AI takes over the Catholic blogosphere

Paying people to write spiritually nourishing content is so old-fashioned. I produce my stuff without being paid, and even the Jesuit America Magazine only pays peanuts - which is quite appropriate as its writers are an army of monkeys with typewriters.

We have stumbled across an AI program that will do the tedious writing bit for us. Its address is https://narrative-device.herokuapp.com/createstory in case you want to play with it. You give it a couple of themes, and it does the rest. Thus: "Pope Francis" and "Pachamama" gave me this:

Pope Francis was in a good mood as he walked into the Amazon rainforest. He had just finished a speech to the crowd of indigeneous people who lived there. "Pachamama," he called out to the goddess of the earth, "thank you for the generous gift of this land. I vow to protect it and to always be grateful for your blessings."

That could be taken straight from Where Peter Is and nobody could tell the difference, especially if it went on to explain how Pope Francis was totally right.

As an homage to Damian Thompson, let's give it "Arthur Roche" and "ice-skating".

Arthur Roche was an accomplished ice-skater. He had won many awards and was a member of the best ice skaters in the country. One day, he decided to try out for the national team. He was nervous but hopeful. He skated his best, and even though he didn't make the team, he was proud of himself.

This looks like something from the old Telegraph blogs, or possible the Catholic Herald. Next, what can we say about "Dr Faggioli" and "beans"?

Dr. Faggioli was an odd man. He loved beans. He loved beans so much, in fact, that he would eat them every day, no matter what. Some people found his obsession strange, but Dr. Faggioli couldn't help it. He loved beans.

"Father James Martin" and "bridge" are the heroes of our next piece, which is simply a news item.

Father James Martin, a Jesuit priest, was on a bridge over a river when he saw a man who appeared to be drowning. He jumped into the water and pulled the man to safety.

It may even be true - who knows? Next, a horror story combining "Austen Ivereigh" and "pope".

In an age when the papacy was rocked by scandals and just as the Church was losing its grip on the hearts and minds of its followers, a new pope was elected. His name was Austen Ivereigh, and many people were excited to see what he would do to restore the Church's reputation.

Pope Francis dreams of his successor.

And we'll give "Pope Francis" and "Latin Mass" the final word. Somehow, I think our correspondent has got his wires crossed:

Pope Francis has called for the return of the Latin Mass, the traditional Catholic Mass which is celebrated in Latin. Many Catholics are excited about this change, believing that the Latin Mass will help them connect more with the Church's history.

Well? You heard it here first.

Traditionalist Gaslighting

A special guest posting from Mike Lewis and Stephen Ferry, which originally appeared on the ultramontanist website Where Pacha is.

In his wonderful motu proprio Trads Cussed, Francis, the greatest pope who ever lived, points out that all those who celebrate the traditional mass are extremists, fascists, and altogether not good Catholics like he is, along with his friends, Blase Cupich, James Martin SJ and Joe Biden. HE IS RIGHT.

Mike Lewis (nobody has heard of Stephen Ferry: he may be a sockpuppet).

Lots of extremists have contested the Very Holy Father's claims. We mention Raymond Burke, who, to the great disappointment of Pope Francis, seems to be recovering from the deadly virus Vatic-2. Burke wrote a piece in which he said "Well, actually, TLM worshippers are not schismatics at all." Regular readers of Where Pacha is (both of them) will remember that Burke was one of the four Dubia cardinals who nearly caused the greatest schism in the Church's history by asking Pope Francis to clarify something he said!

As papal biographer Austen Ivereigh Tower, author of "Pope Francis - the great redeemer", "Go away Austen, I'm trying to sleep" and the new best-seller based on Archpope Francis's teachings, "Forget the past - they're all dead people", puts it, "For many bishops the call to wake up and think about Catholicism was the last straw!"

"If anyone calle me schismatic again, I'll go and found my own Church!"

There are lots of very evil people out there. Dr Joseph Shaw, chairman of the Latin Mass Society of England and Wales, and contributor to such scurrilous publications as Extremist weekly and Schismatic News, may be an intellectual giant, but is obviously not in the same league as our friend Austen Ivermectin - how many hagiographies of St Pope Francis has Shaw written? This devotee of the Extremist Form Mass has publicly denied the divinity of Pachamama (even though she's a LATIN American goddess). He also endorsed those dreadful Dubia cardinals who insisted on trying to square Supreme Pope Francis's teachings with those of dead people such as Pope Benedict XVI (oh, isn't he?), St Paul and St Peter. We discard him utterly.

Pachapapa Francis has pinpointed the centre of all evil - the Extremist World Television Network EWTN. It was founded by extremist Mother Angelica; her friend Raymond Arroyo plays an influential role with his extremist programme The World Over Live, which devotes all its time to reporting on the tantrums of Pope Francis the Humble. Last week they even invited the blood-crazed ferret, Damian Thompson of the fascist Spectator magazine to say rude things about Francis, the Fourth Person of the Trinity.

Enough said!

I think I've made my point. The opponents of Trads Cussed are possessed, diabolical, schismatic, extremist (have I used that word already?) and possessed by diabolically schismatic extremism! No wonder Pope Francis hates their guts finds it difficult to accommodate them. Does Vatican II mean nothing to them? Did she die in vain?

Pope Francis has said that EWTN is the work of the Devil. Pope Francis is always right. We can also reveal that the Devil is an extremist. Need we say more? Yes, this is just the first in a 94-part series...

Hark! The Herald's writers sing

A little Christmas carol to commemorate the Catholic Herald's cutting its ties with Mary Kenny, Fr John Zuhlsdorf and Fr Dominic Allain, to complete its transformation into a less intellectual version of HELLO.

Editor Dan Hitchens can only gasp in amazement, since from now on its owner, William Cash, is expected to publish more articles of the I'm not a Catholic but hey! aren't chasubles cool? variety, together with the probing analysis of Cash's Auntie Doris's postman, Not many people know who that dame with the baby is on the Christmas stamps, and Cash's old mate Major "Blotto" Smythe-Farquharson-Vodka's contribution I've always been scared of gargoyles since one fell on my head.

The important thing is Cash.

Hark! The Herald's writers sing,
"William Cash, where is thy sting?"
Catholics all sent away:
Father Z and Mary K.
Torkington and Allain too
Now have met their Waterloo.
Holy Smoke and Coppen fled,
Hitchens just a figurehead.

Hark! The Herald's writers sing,
"William Cash, where is thy sting?"

How to deal with a schism

This is the latest in our series of self-help guides on "How to be a good Pope", designed for any of our readers who are one day thrust into a white robe, shoved onto the balcony in Rome, and told to SMILE.

A man in white discovers that he is the new Pope.

After a few years of poping, making up new doctrine in aeroplanes, thinking of insults for the faithful, appointing random dropouts as cardinals, and teasing everyone with new improbable synods, the thought may occur to you: IS THERE A SCHISM IN THE CHURCH?

Schisms can be identified by a variety of signs. It could be clericalism, moral problems, black cassocks and Saturno hats, for example. It can be no coincidence that the arch-baddie in the Bible is called Saturn (memo: check spelling). But mostly it's AMERICANS.

Of course, there are good non-schismatic Americans. Think of Cardinal Tobin, who tweets "Nighty-night baby" to each of his seventeen sisters, as well as any unemployed actors in the neighbourhood. Or Cupich. Or celebrity campaigner Fr James Martin LGBTSJ.

But there are others, far more sinister. Michael Voris, who used to be a friend of yours, until he discovered Catholicism and turned against you. EWTN, which, according to your great pal Dawn the Merciless, is run by Nazis. Worst of all is Cardinal Burke, who constantly does provocative things such as saying nothing to criticise you, preaching boring old Catholic doctrine, and meekly accepting all the insults that come his way. No wonder Austen Ivereigh can't stand him.

You haven't lived until Dawn has called you a Nazi.

Luckily you will be able to reunite the church with yet another synod, this one based on the wisdom of the tree-spirits of the Amazon (Hum-Mes, Czer-Ny, Mara-Di-Aga, and Spa-Da-Ro), as interpreted by your friend Rhino Marx. You will see semi-naked tribesmen, painted in gay colours, dancing before you - and those are just Fr Martin's friends from New York. Poisonous darts will fly in all directions - but that's just Ivereigh exerting his charm.

Yes, finally the Catholic Church will be united (with very few exceptions) in saying "THIS SYNOD IS A LOAD OF RUBBISH!"

Rhino Marx in his film role as Captain Wolf J. Piranha, the Amazonian Explorer.

Damian Thompson quits the Catholic Herald

Following a take-over of the Sovereign Order of the Catholic Herald, its Grandmaster-in-chief, Fra' Damian Thompson, has quit his position because of "a difference of opinion". Commentators have been asking whether the "blood-crazed ferret" has been biting the bishops of England and Wales too hard, in view of his criticism of their lordships' response to the decision of hanging judge Mrs Justice "Blood! Cut! Sever! Aagh!" Lieven to force a woman to abort her baby (a decision now overturned).

Pope Francis and Grandmaster Damian, in happier times.

Fra' Thompson's "In some ways, possibly, well, one might argue, without making too much of this, that the bishops' response to the court decision was less than it might have been had it been more than it was" was itself a watered-down version of what he originally wrote, namely, "Ye brood of vipers, who hath shewed you to flee from the wrath to come?"

We have not yet determined who the new owners of the Catholic Herald are, although George Soros, who recently added the Vatican to his portfolio, is the most likely candidate.

Two photos of George Soros, the new owner of the Herald.

So who will be the next Grandmaster-in-chief of the Sovereign Order of the Catholic Herald? The owners will clearly want to go for a "Catholic Lite" journalist, such as Austen Ivereigh, Robin Mickens, or Christopher Lamb. (Fr Thomas Rosica is tipped to take over the U.S. edition, although other sources say that he is retiring to a medieval monastery to work as a copyist.)

I'm Austen. Please, please, please, let me be editor!

Austen is already showing the charm, tact, and diplomacy for which he is notorious, in his reaction to the Dame's departure.

How to win friends and influence people, by Austin Powers.

The latest revelations of Archbishop Carlo Maria Viganò have also proved too hot for the Herald to handle. They're a bit sordid for a spiritually nourishing blog such as this one, but we are happy to vindicate Pope Francis against claims that he runs a gang of pickpockets in Rome, robbing the tourists; likewise, it is unlikely that he personally set fire to Notre Dame; finally, he is totally innocent of charges that he goes out at night and kicks kittens. But all the rest is probably true, including the heresy.

Cardinal Fatty Shame.

Finally, we celebrate the removal of Cardinal Fatty Shame of New York from Joe's "All you can eat" diner (after a prolonged lawsuit, in which the cardinal argued that he still wasn't ready to go). The cardinal has been removed to St Patrick's Cathedral, in order that he may be prepared for his new role as Blessed Grandmaster of New York Pride. Well done, there!

Ernst Stavro Blofeld SJ - hero or villain?

A Damian Thompson special. Already Austen Ivereigh and Robert Mickens are rushing to Blofeld's defence, so it must be good.

Ernst Stavro Blofeld SJ is a priest living in New York, who has cornered the market in heresy and world domination. As editor-at-large of the SPECTRE magazine, he is the most famous Jesuit in the United States; probably the most popular, too. And also the most disliked. Hated, even.

Fr Blofeld, author of The Jesuit Guide to World Domination.

What is there to dislike about this scrupulously polite Jesuit? Compared with the activist Fr Goldfinger ("You expect me to talk? No, Cardinal Bond, I expect you to die.") he is not particularly liberal. Yet, in middle age Fr Blofeld has moved to the left, and embraces the fashionable consensus on almost every issue that alienates conservative Catholics.

Although he does not have a good head of hair, I know that Fr Blofeld is fond of custard and the music of Gladys Mills, so... I'm sorry, I thought I was still writing for the Telegraph. This is the Catholic Herald, isn't it? Start again.

"You only live twice" - a typical heretical teaching from Fr Blofeld.

Blofeld's sex life (I thought that would get you reading again) is a mystery to all. When he joined the Jesuits he was asked whether he was a virgin and said no. However, he has not been known to sleep with members of either sex, although he has expressed himself anxious to build bridges with the LGBT community (this is an obscure Jesuit expression, and nobody would explain to us what it means).

The truth is that Fr Blofeld is, like many of us, a victim of the culture wars. His obsession with world domination has caused him to ally with the destructive side in every Catholic debate, alienating himself from Catholics who honestly disagree with his political opinions. This is not the true nature of Ignatian spirituality, which rarely concerns itself with firing nuclear missiles, destroying satellites, or holding the world to ransom.

"The name's Martin. James Martin." (You're getting confused, Damian.)

If the engaging Fr Blofeld really cannot see the problem, then perhaps he should be learning, rather than teaching, fearless methods of self-examination.

Vatican to host Winter Olympics

There have been snowfalls in Rome this week, a direct result of a billion faithful Catholics taking the papal advice in Laudato Si' seriously, and thus saving the planet. Accordingly, St Peter's Square has been transformed into a venue for winter sports, which are so much more popular than papal audiences these days, and it has now been agreed that the Vatican will host the 2022 Winter Olympics.

Cardinal Nanook of the North stands by the dome.

The Catholic Church is very strong in certain events, such as snowball fights - it will have a natural advantage when the referee shouts "Let him who is without sin cast the first snowball" - and building snowmen, especially ones that look like saints.

Graven images are OK, but don't worship them!

These traditional sports are likely to replace some of the sillier Olympic sports such as Curling (feel free to disagree). We are happy to give our readers a preview of what we may expect at VAT2022.

Traditionalists in a snowball fight with the Modernists, but versus populum not ad orientem.

Archbishop Arthur Roche was a renowned ice-skater in his youth (yes, I now know this is a lie invented by his admirer, Damian Thompson), and he is anxious to shine as well. However, things have not gone well so far.

Archbishop Roche wonders what went wrong.

When it comes to the more "artistic" sport of ice-dancing, there are some strong contenders, and here we see four eminent Catholics waiting to be measured for their tutus.

"I'm used to skating on thin ice," comments Fr Martin.

Finally, the Holy Father himself will be only 85 at the time of the Vatican Olympics, and he is also planning to take part in his Popesleigh^TM.

Going downhill very quickly... is this a metaphor for something?

My night of horror with Damian Thompson

By Milo Yourehopeoulos.

I'll never forgive my parents for naming me after a chocolate drink.

I owe a lot to Damian Thompson. Without him I would just be a talentless nobody who wears silly glasses and stands alone in the corner at parties. As it is, I am an internationally-renowned blogger with a keen following amongst the illiterate Tuttifrutti tribe of the Amazon jungle.

But there is a sinister side to Damian, as I discovered the night he invited me to stay at his castle in Notting Hill. Things began badly when he insisted on plying me with cupcakes and custard, no doubt in a vain hope that this would cause me lose control. He doesn't drink alcohol, and I didn't find that his home-made non-alcoholic hemlock wine "Château Blood-crazed Ferret" was much of a substitute.

Damian spends many weekends at the National Custard Museum.

"I've got a DVD called The Life of Brian," said Damian. "It's the in-depth story of Haversack Brian, the 103-year-old composer who wrote three symphonies before breakfast every morning. My friend Stephen Hough has arranged his longest symphony, the eight-hour Vandal Symphony, for playing on the piano with one finger."

We put on the DVD, but it turned out to be a religious film about some prophet called Brian, so Damian angrily ripped it from the DVD player and threw it at Cormac the cat. Resisting my host's increasingly aggressive demands that we should stay up all night singing Bach cantatas together, I retired to the spare bedroom.

"Dear Mr Cleese, I wish to complain..."

There were approximately 500 copies of Damian's magnum opus, "The Fix" in the spare room, so I picked one up and soon found myself sleeping peacefully. However, at around 3 a.m. I was woken by a knock on the door.

"Moli, I mean Milo," said Damian in a whisper. "Would you like to come and listen to my collection of Gladys Mills CDs?" I knew that my host had been a fan of Mrs Mills from an early age, and that he sometimes sobbed himself to sleep listening to her masterpieces. But at 3 a.m. this was really too much.

A young Jorge Bergoglio receives a cake from Gladys Mills, watched by Damian Thompson.

"Go away, Damian," I groaned. "I want to sleep!"

"Just one CD, Milo," pleaded Dr Thompson, and then, when it was clear that I wasn't going to take part in his disgusting rituals, "all right, you'll see. I'll ruin you. You'll never work again! You'll become a second Austen Ivereigh!"

So as you see, that perpetually-smiling face conceals the heart of a fiend.

I'm sorry to have to put all this on record, but people have started to forget who I am, and it's important for gay Catholics with no talent to stay in the news. Ask Fr James Martin.

The Tablet seeks a new editor

Yes, 2016 has proved a truly grim year. We lost Mother Angelica, Andrew Sachs, David Bowie, Terry Wogan (fill in your own names here), and now Catherine Pepinster is leaving the Tablet, or Bitter Pill as it is known to many Catholics. It will be hard to fill the shoes of the woman who brought you top-quality theology from the likes of Hans Küng, Tony Flannery and James Martin!

Mrs Pepinster interviews the last surviving Marx brother for the showbusiness page.

Over now to the Tablet offices, where they are in the process of choosing a successor.

Right, the first application is from Damian Thompson of the Spectator and Catholic Herald. He's promising us some hard-hitting Catholic journalism (all gasp), as well as in-depth analysis of the likely front-runners for the next papacy. Is Cardinal Sarah ruled out because of his bad hair? Is there any cardinal apart from Dolan who really understands custard? Burning questions, I'm sure you'll agree.

Also, which pope had the worst drink problem? Plus a stable of new writers such as Cristina Odone, Dan Hodges and Mary Riddell. No, we really can't accept that.

Who's next? Ah yes, Thomas Rosica of the Salt and Vinegar Corporation. He's a Basilian (of the St Basil of Fawlty branch). He says he has this wonderful plan to reduce the subscription to zero by blocking all the subscribers he doesn't like. No, I don't think that would work.

A keen Tablet reader looks in vain for something Catholic.

Then there's someone who describes himself as "Father Z". He reckons we can obtain sponsorship from the Numinous Nun Coffee Company, and says he should be able to hit the "target readership" from 100 paces. Also, he plans to publish the newspaper in Latin. Well, we'll keep him on our list for the moment.

You know... this isn't really getting us anywhere. Did someone put "Catholic" in the job advert by mistake? For the last 12 years we've been trying to rebrand ourselves as a clone of the Guardian, and now they want to take us back to the bad old days. Does Amoris Laetitia mean nothing to you? Did she die in vain?*

*Old Tony Hancock joke, adapted.

Oh, hang it. Give the job to Tina. She'll make sure the magazine stays firmly in the 1970s.

---

Personally I'm finding the Tablet Advent Calendar a little disappointing.

Pope puts world on journalism alert

Police worldwide have declared a state of red alert, after Pope Francis, in an audience with, er, Italian journalists, decided to charm them by telling them that journalism based on rumours and fear is terrorism.

Fr Rosica explains that he never spreads gossip, rumours, or indeed interesting news.

Apparently, there is a genuine danger than innocent members of the public will be assailed by journalists, who after uttering a fanatical cry such as "Daily Telegraph!" or "Spectator!", will proceed to ask them what they think Amoris Laetitia means, and whether they think Pope Francis is about to abdicate in favour of Cardinal Tagle. Said Inspector Vincent "Vin of the Yard" Nichols, "If you suspect that someone may be a journalist, do not approach them directly, but keep your distance and dial 999. Our anti-journalism squad will do the rest."

Madeleine Teahan of the Catholic Herald. Wanted for gossiping about the Pope's pizza-addiction.

Said Anjem Choudary, the radical cleric sentenced for supporting ISIS, "These journalists make me sick. Take Damian Thompson, for instance. Rather than going out and slaughtering a few people in a train, like an honest man, he makes snide remarks about my hairstyle and my love of custard. No wonder the Ecclestone Square boys can't stand him."

Superman also has a secret identity as a Tablet journalist. Don't tell the Pope.

"Rumours and fear" is of course a direct reference to the reception given to most of the Pope's recent pronouncements. Did he really say THAT? Is he trying to change Catholic doctrine? Was he misquoted? Why can't he give a straight answer to a straight question? Be afraid... be very afraid.

The suit and tie bloggers have lost

A special report by Damian Thompson.

It started at the Telegraph, moved on to the Catholic Herald, the Spectator, and ever onward: the demise of the professional "suit and tie" blogger, who was actually paid for writing his or her piece for a newspaper or website. For it was discovered that the "pyjama" or "underpant" commentators, who offered their services for free, had so much more to say, even if they were never allowed out of their bedrooms.

"Would you care to write a blog for us, your Majesty? Any old rubbish will do."

Originally designed as learned essays on matters of common interest, in the tradition of Bacon, Swift, Chesterton, Orwell and so many others, the professional blogs gradually declined, as people were invited to read them and comment on them. Would Francis Bacon have written a piece on whether James I ate too much custard? Would Chesterton have criticised Cardinal Vaughan's haircut? Did George Orwell have a crush on Judy Garland? No, these were heavyweight essayists.

Scarecrow, Dorothy (Judy Garland), Lion and Tin Man in the Izzard of Oz.

In the end, it was not necessary to write a full blog post in order to generate the valuable "clicks" that so delighted the advertisers. A simple one or two-word title, such as "UKIP" (mysteriously written "Ukip" by the Telegraph), or "Islam", or "David Cameron", or - in the great days of "Holy Smoke" blogs - "Vincent Nichols", would guarantee pages and pages of mouth-foaming nonsense, as shelf-stackers, donkey-obsessives, drunken journalists, sinister deacons, bad-tempered Australian grandmothers, mollusc-molesters, implausible priests, and perverts from Stockport would tumble over each other as they rushed to issue insults, to suck up to the blog's author, to dump the contents of their brains, to explain why the Catholic Church was damned and they alone were saved, or to tell tedious anecdotes about life in Adelaide. Or perhaps it was just one person using an army of sockpuppets.

Of course, an army of semi-literate "muddlerators" was required to keep them in order. Sometimes the blog author himself was muddlerated, sometimes rival bloggers would drop in to join the fun.

"I see they've moderated my comments about giving communion to adulterers."

Curiously, the Guardian, a newspaper that will be totally forgotten by about 2025, took an entirely different approach. To write for Comment Shall Set You Free, you had to buy into the liberal consensus, where men could become female just by putting on a dress, where an abortion was considered to be every woman's dream, where Shami Chakrabarti was actually taken seriously, where a man could marry another man - or his mother - or indeed his pet hamster, and where Keith Vaz was regarded as a saintly character of irreproachable morals. Then, any comment below the line other than "I agree with you, Fr Fraser" (or whoever the writer was) was rewarded with instant banishment and accusations of "hate crime". But nobody read the Guardian so it didn't matter.

The fate of "professional" bloggers was inevitable. The best writers went off and wrote their own spiritually nourishing blogs, in a world where deadlines did not exist, the writer was not obliged to produce any old tosh if he or she didn't feel like it, and no money changed hands. Hence there were casualties among the professional bloggers: Fr Dwight Longenecker's family starved to death when his own blog was drowned in a sea of rivals; Fr Zuhlsdorf had to sell coffee to make ends meet; and as for that huge army of brilliant Telegraph bloggers - Thompson, Delingpole, Hannan, Hough, Mary Riddell no not Mary Riddell - they disappeared without trace. Although sometimes you may see Ed West selling matches in Trafalgar Square; he still wears a suit and tie.

"You will leave the EU..." Hannan has a new career as a stage hypnotist.

P.S. Comments are welcomed. They're usually better than anything I have to say, anyway.

Kim Jong-Vin bans sarcasm

In the dictatorship that is the Archdiocese of Westminster, its ruler, Kim Jong-Vin, has banned sarcasm, because he fears that people only agree with him ironically.

This follows a spate of implausible compliments in the Catholic blogosphere, such as "Nichols - a giant of Catholic orthodoxy" (Mundabor), "Dude, Vincent Nichols has saved the Catholic Church by his rejection of the ironically foundational communicologies of individualizing syntagma that result from the concept of Kantian neo-structuralist progressivism" (Paul Priest), and "I wish my hair were as good as that of Cardinal Nichols" (Damian Thompson).

"Go on, you're having a laugh, aren't you?"

There has also been a distressing tendency for priests to read out Pastoral Letters from Cardinal Nichols at Mass, prefacing them with the words: "Instead of a homily today, we have a letter from the greatest thinker of this age - or indeed of any age - Cardinal Nichols. My own humble sermon on marriage is as but chaff in the wind compared with the document in my hand, which will surely be regarded as one of the great landmarks of Catholic thought."

Likewise, when several faithful and learned Catholics who wrote to the Vatican asking whether Pope Francis could explain certain passages of Amoris Laetitia, "because it's all Greek to us", woke to find horses' heads in their beds, they laughingly shrugged this off by saying that the Holy GodFather had "made us a doctrine we can't refuse".

"All I said was, 'Can we lose that infamous footnote?'"

All these distressing signs of sarcasm are now banned, at least in the diocese of Westminster, along with jokes about how God prefers priests to turn their back on Him when offering Mass.

So, it's agreed then? Vincent Nichols is papabile, if anyone ever was.

Catholic Herald bans comments

To the shock and dismay of the entire Catholic blogosphere, Luke Coppen, editor of the Catholic Herald, has announced that the online CH will no longer accept comments. The explanation offered was that moderating the feedback was too time-consuming; however, it is believed that the real reason was that the CH fileservers were unable to cope with the weight of comments from one particular contributor who must remain nameless.

The CH spent so much time muddlerating comments that nobody wound the clocks.

As a compromise, Mr Coppen has promised that the print edition of the CH will, from now on, include a blank page on which readers can write their own comments. Subscribers will also be given a green biro for this purpose. A request from Paul Priest, Archbishop of Corby, that a dozen blank sheets be provided, has been turned down.

The main person affected by the CH's draconian decision.

Paul Priest writes:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! OH GOOD GRIEF! WEEBLE WEEBLE!!!! I'M A TEAPOT!!!! You poor fools, you're shutting down the only medium by which orthodox Catholics (and I am the only one left) can express their opinions. How else are we supposed to tell the bishops of England and Wales, the cardinals, the pope, and even some of the saints that they are out of touch? First, Catholic Voices didn't want me - and I could have given some splendid 5-hour soundbites on radio and television. Then you refused to publish my series of articles Apologia pro vitis omnium ceterorum (Apology for everyone else's lives), subtitled "You is not orthodox, only I is orthodox."

The only person who ever listened to me is Damian Thompson - God, how I love that man! No, I don't have a crush on him, but it's no secret that it was due to my efforts that Damian won the Catholic Lovely Legs Contest last year, narrowly beating Professor Tina Beattie.

Tina - lost out to Damian on the "swimsuit" round.

Well, we know who is to blame. Phil, the ex-Telegraph troll with his army of implausible sockpuppets (this is true, E.) and also mad Eccles and his friends. Oh Eccles you think you're so wonderful because you have friends and I don't.

Well, the Catholic Herald is doomed now. I went round six Asda stores yesterday and not one of them had a CH on sale. In contrast, I asked the assistants "Do you have any Tablets?" and they all replied, "Yes, try the pharmacy section." I rest my case. What is clear is that Catholic Herald journalism is going to die out. For example, I know already that Fr Lucie-Smith is planning to give up writing - he only posts his 500 words in the expectation of receiving a 20,000 word response from me, politely correcting his errors and telling him what a nincompoop he is.

Even in Corby Cathedral, orthodox worship has almost disappeared.

Worse than that, the Catholic Church in England and Wales is doomed: there is a systemic catholic dispossession and disenfranchisement, to the extent that outside the major cities catholicism will cease to be, within the next generation - and what are you doing to help? Stopping me from putting forward the orthodox viewpoint, which nobody else is prepared to defend, not even Damian Thompson (see, Eccles, that proves I am not in Damian's pocket!)

Meanwhile His Holiness thinks some sort of balance needs to be redressed... putting the trads back in their box, accusing them of being pelagian, jansenist, ultramontane, anti-conciliar and anti-conciliarity, donatist, pharisaically legalistic, sexually prurient, uncharitably insensitive, coldly insular and alienating... and allowing the more liberally 'pastorally aware' to be given some fresh air and some lebensraum to inspire them to rebuild the Church and bring the lost home... with verbal support in every soundbite and media opportunity... I blame Austen Ivereigh and...

Afraid we'll have to cut you off there, Paul. Sorry!

Now, which sockpuppet shall we use today?

Don't equate Catholic Voices with violence

Flying back from Kraków, Pope Francis became tired of reading the souvenir magazine, Pole Dancing for Catholics, so he stood up and gave yet another impromptu off-the-cuff press briefing. This was instantly seized on as either a fundamental change to Catholic teaching or yet another non-event, depending on whether you read the Tablet or else some of the Catholic papers.

"I do not like it when people associate Catholic Voices with violence," asserted the Holy Father. "I know that Austen Ivereigh is greatly feared in Catholic circles, but he is basically a peace-loving man, even if he does occasionally come out with statements about Islam that would turn Damian Thompson's hairpiece white."

Francis (protected by a barrier) "reaches out" to Dr Ivereigh.

Every day we read in our newspapers, or see on television, signs of people being intimidated by Catholic Voices. The amazing Caroline Farrow, who has spoken out on Catholic issues on so many television and radio programmes that we have lost count - these include Strictly Come Dancing, Match of the Day, and even Midsomer Murders - can reduce a secularist to a quivering heap of jelly in 30 seconds flat. Even the Archbishop of Corby hides under the baked bean shelves at ASDA when he hears Mrs Farrow on the radio.

However, Pope Francis claims that such people are essentially peaceful. "Take Greg Daly," he said. "Yes, do take him. He tells me he's the only man in the world who understands the Irish question, and occasionally people have fallen into a coma when he tried to explain it to them. But people can fall into comas for other reasons, you know, and one should not blame Catholic Voices for that."

Young people playing Pokémon Go manage to miss the Pope entirely.

In another announcement, Pope Francis commented on the success of World Youth Day. "From now on, we're going to have similar smaller-scale events in every town in the civilised world. They will take place on Sunday mornings, mostly, and involve much smaller gatherings of Catholics for Mass. Obviously, I can't be everywhere, so I am appointing a group of deputies to do the 'Hey, I'm the big superstar' bit. I've even thought of a catchy name for them - priests!"

Here we think Pope Francis may - for once - have gone a little too far.

The legend of Telegraph Blogs

From the Daily Telepath, April 3016.

It is strange to think that 1000 years ago mankind was unable to communicate by instant telepathy, as we do today. Historians tells us that there were miserable people who sat in front of boxes containing electronic equipment, laboriously typing their thoughts into something called "blogs", which were then read by other sad people, also sitting at (or at least holding) boxes. (Less "progressive" people read "newspapers", which were apparently produced by cutting down "trees" - a form of life that became extinct in the 27th century - and writing on them.)

The tradition is that the readers would then "comment" on the blogs: this was generally done by means of trading insults or (in the case of one commentator known only as "On The Side Of The Angels", but believed to be the then archbishop of Corby) writing incoherent essays, longer than the original article, on a vaguely related subject.

However, recent excavations at the remains of "London", the primitive city now known as Corbyngrad, have revealed a "cache" of "Telegraph blogs", which our ancestors tried to suppress in 2016.

There is evidence that this man was worshipped as a god.

Looking at the writings of the Telegraph blogs' supreme being, Damian Thompson, we see some of the questions that concerned our distant ancestors. Religion was one such issue: these were the days of Pope St Francis I, who was not universally loved. He was to be succeeded by Pope Francis II, our own Vincent Nichols, who introduced "gay" masses and the writings of Mother Tina of Roehampton into the Vatican. Nichols is also mentioned in the blogs, although not in respectful terms.

Francis I, later the first Dalai Pope.

Now, for us who live in the reign of Pope Richard XIX, it is odd to think that the saint after whom he is named, St Richard Dawkins, was in in those days a fierce atheist. However, Damian, whose prophecies were invariably correct, foresaw Richard's conversion and eventual canonization.

St Richard, in his "unsaved" days.

In those days something called "politics" was a matter of great interest. Nowadays, of course we are looked after by a benevolent Big Brother, who reigns in Brussels, chosen by a computer that telepathically reads our minds and finds the most suitable candidate. However, in those days the leaders were selected by voting. One such person, who disappeared mysteriously in the summer of 2016, was known as "Dave". For reasons that our analysts are still trying to discover, the big political issue of 2014 - according to Damian - was whether Dave consumed too much custard.

Dave, who disappeared mysteriously in 2016.

It is fascinating to learn of 21st-century culture from the blogs of Damian Thompson - cupcakes obviously played an important part in the everyday life of 21st-century Britain, as did the music of Gladys Mills (believed to have been a teacher of the great Stephen Hough) and the dramatic efforts of Dame Noele Gordon, a Shakespearean actress known for performing the play "Crossroads" which has not survived to the present day.

Damian foresaw that orange juice would kill millions in 2025.

We are still investigating the Telegraph Blogs find, and attempting to make sense of it. For example, there was also a writer called James Delingpole who warned of climate change just 10 years before the New Ice Age began and Scotland was destroyed by glaciers (this seems to have gone largely unnoticed at the time). Also a man called Dan Hodges the Hermit, who was ridiculed for his always-wrong prophecies. Odone the Odd One, Lean the Fathead... yes, archaeologists, historians and psychiatrists will be investigating this find for years to come!