A remembrance service for departed politicians

I am the re-election and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were rejected by voters, yet shall he live, peradventure to return to the world by a by-election, or peradventure to enter the heavenly House of Lords. Failing that, to be blessed with directorships, consultancies, and other means by which the world poureth out money on the otherwise unemployable.

Man that is elected to parliament hath but a short time to serve, and causeth a lot of misery by his meddling. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one eternal government.

Three polticians (two of them also walking dead) remember the fallen.

Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God, in his wise providence, to take out of parliament the souls of our deceased brothers, we therefore commit them to the dustbin of history; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, toast to toast; looking for a general re-election on the last day of the new administration.

We remember in particular the following brothers who have been taken from us:

Edward Edwin Edgar Edmund Balls, he whose testament to the world, "Ed Balls", is forever remembered in "Ed Balls Day". Although his cutting off leaves the House of Commons emasculated, may the holy day of April 28th (or, if the bishops choose, a convenient Sunday nearby) ever be used to remember him; yeah, even when his works have faded into history and the deficit is no more.

Ed Balls, clad in robes of white.

George Saddam Felix Galloway, many times winner of the "most obnoxious man in politics" award. Well, the less said about him, the better. May he be granted seventy-two virgins in Paradise, preferably Jewish ones.

Possibly the last we shall see of George Galloway. I'm an optimist.

Vincent Nijinsky Cable, dancer extraordinaire and politician ordinaire, he who was unplugged before his time; and Mark Lemming Reckless, of whom we never heard until he decided to sing a new song to the Lord, which proved his undoing.

And there are many others, mostly dressed in robes of red and yellow, whose names are already forgotten.

I heard a voice from Heaven, saying unto me: Write, From henceforth blessed are the dead who are thrown out: for they rest, and we have peace from their foolishness.

"Mwahahahahaha!" Sometimes the undead come back to haunt us.

The priest is asked NOT to mention wailing and gnashing of teeth, even though there is a lot of this going on in BBC interviews, etc.

[At this point Messrs Cameron, Miliband and Clegg will lay wreaths at the eight-foot "Edstone". Mr Cameron will endeavour to stop giggling, before departing to visit some more fish markets. Mr Miliband will trip and fall, before leaving to seek spiritual advice from the Venerable Brand. Mr Clegg will depart in a taxi with the rest of his MPs.]

Life goes on: Theresa May teaches liturgical dancing to a group of new MPs.

Eccles is blocked

It has become something of a matter of pride to be blocked on Twitter by George Galloway, Even Tom Chivers managed it by tweeting "booooooooooooooo" at him, which will probably even get him sued. George is a much-misunderstood fellow, who managed to make friends wherever he went, especially if it was Saddam Hussein's Baghdad or a Hamas knees-up. Not many people know that he is a talented cat-impersonator and an expert on forced marriage. Will he be re-elected as Respected MP for Bradford West? Well, that all depends on whether he captures the Jewish vote.

Most likely to say: "Many of my best friends are Israelis."

Still, I have managed to get blocked by many on Twitter in my time. The roll of honour includes another great hero of mine, Richard Dawkins, the distinguished zoologist, theologian, poet and moral philosopher. Originally an expert on chickens, he has now diversified his interested into selfish genes, blind watchmakers, and deluded gods. Professor Dawkins understands that to be a good scientist, you have to have a spiritual dimension to your life. He is a deeply sensitive man, who is anxious never to give offence. If he stood in Bradford West, he would certainly have many Muslims supporting him.

Most likely to say: "Of course, I'm probably wrong."

Many people will be surprised to know that I have been blocked by Professor Tina Beattie, the well-known professor of Money, Life and Health (or something like that). Tina is a Catholic after my own heart - well, after her own heart, actually - and from her I have learned many things about the Catholic faith that no priest or bishop would ever dare to tell me. Her ground-breaking God's Mother, Eve's Advocate, is probably the only book on theology that I could recommend to people who enjoyed Fifty Shades of Grey. O Tina, tell me it was just a misunderstanding!

Correction: I am not blocked. But I thought I was...

Most likely to say: "The important thing is to remain true to Catholic teaching."

Even more puzzling is my cold-shouldering by Damian Thompson, the Spectator's publisher for Religion, Society and Human Flourishing (or something like that). In the good old days of Telegraph blogs, when Friday night was sock-puppet night, we found that we had many common interests, such as Catholicism, custard, and the oeuvre of Gladys Mills. To add insult to injury, once the organ-grinder had spurned me, so did the monkey (Paul Priest), a man considered to be Corby's answer to James Joyce.

Most likely to say: "I think of Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor as my mentor."

And so it goes on. The Diocese of Lancaster blocked me after I constantly praised its bishop's tough line on bloggers. Stephen Fry was so embarrassed by my description of him as the cleverest man of this age or indeed any age, that he humbly blocked me. On the other hand, Catherine Pepinster, Polly Toynbee and Giles Fraser - people who provide me with much quiet amusement - still haven't blocked me, so perhaps there is some hope that they can be saved. Oh, and this man hasn't blocked me, either: indeed, quite the reverse!

Pope Francis writes a tweet inspired by Eccles's blog.

New production of Wagner's Tristram and Odone

Wagner's great operatic love story, Tristram and Odone, was broadcast on the BBC last night, but so far the critical reaction has been hostile.

A more traditional Tristram and Odone.

Out went all the traditional features of this tale of doomed love. Tristram, no longer a heroic figure, was cast as a rather weak character who was terrified of nuns (it is claimed that a nun once called him "gay" when he was five years old).

Eeek! I've just seen a nun!

Odone, the love interest, was played as an Italian princess who had been educated by nuns. She was known throughout the kingdom as a champion of orthodox Catholicism (or at least the bits she agreed with).

The Princess Odone.

Comic relief was provided by Galberich, a Jew-hating dwarf. This is a character borrowed from Wagner's Ring Cycle, and not generally regarded as part of the Tristram legend at all.

Bring on the clowns!

However, the story has been changed out of all recognition. Tristram does indeed die - or at least lose his political career - but little else is recognisable.

Tristram dies of shock when he sees a ship bearing the black "nun" flag.

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Damian Thompson writes...

As a Wagner expert, I felt very disappointed by this production. Still, if it's available as an illegal download, I might just consider getting it!

Damian Thompson, Publisher of Spectator Religion, Society and Human Flourishing.

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Sister Judy Piranha writes...

Coo-eee, Tristram!!?? (That's enough Sr Judy Piranha...)

Eccles answers some burning questions

Dear Eccles, I read somewhere that it was possible to declare one's house a Galloway-free zone. How do I do that, and what are the advantages?

Sometimes our policemen are wonderful.

Eccles replies: A Galloway exclusion zone is generally considered to be a significant asset to a neighbourhood. Indeed, the value of your property may increase by up to 100% if the purchaser can be sure that there isn't a whining Hamas-supporter crawling round your living-room drinking the cat's milk.

To avoid an infestation of Galloways, you could hang an old shoe in your window, since Muslims consider old shoes to be insulting, and Galloways will tend to avoid them. Keeping pigs is another possible strategy, but these animals tend to think of Galloways as "unclean" and will probably be upset by their presence. In Bradford they discovered that inviting a few Jews to visit was extremely effective: despite his mighty rhetoric, the resident Galloway was reported to have disguised himself in a burka and fled to Scotland.

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Dear Eccles, I am a pregnant woman, and very worried that my child may have Dawk syndrome. Could you advise me?

People with Dawk Syndrome are often fond of animals. It's humans they can't stand.

Eccles replies: Dawk Syndrome is not usually a problem for the first 50 or so years of life: people with this condition can often live full and rewarding lives, for example by taking unskilled employment as professors of zoology.

In old age, however, we often see severe psychological problems develop: an obsessive desire for publicity, including the habit of saying nasty things in order to be noticed; a conviction that one is always right, even when the facts have shown that this is not the case; the habit of making gaffes ("unless you are a vegan (most Pro-'Lifers' are not) you are in no position to object to abortion"); and a total insensitiveness to the feelings of other people. It is tempting, if you think you may have a Dawk baby, to abort your child and "try again", but we cannot recommend that course of action. At any rate, the condition is much better understood these days.

Sometimes a 73-year-old will dress like a teenager.

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Dear Eccles, whom are you likely to nominate for your "Catholic bishop of the year" award?

Eccles replies: It seemed at first that Michael Campbell of Lancaster would walk away with the prestigious "golden cake" for his courageous suppression of the far-too-orthodox Protect the Pope blog, and his brilliantly confusing handling of the situation. As devoted supporters of "Mike the Knife" we must remind people that shouting "Pants on fire!" at bishops is rude and naughty, even if this exact phrase is not explicitly forbidden by canon law.

Recently, Kieran Conry has been coming up fast behind him, with his imaginative request for the dissident organization ACTA to hold meetings in his diocese, going as far as advertising them on the Arundel and Brighton website. Well done, Kieran! Give the Vatican a piece of your mind! Just think, in a few hundred years time we may be talking of Conryans in the same way as we talk of Lutherans!

Attacking ACTA? Not in Arundel and Brighton!

What are my human rights?

QUAERITUR: What are my human rights? I have read recently that Judge Dedov, a comedian employed by the European Court of Human Rights, took the (minority) view that Catholic priests had the "human right" to remain priests, even if they disregarded the celibacy rule. Moreover, Michael Fabricant M.P. has just declared that homosexuals have the "right" to give blood. So is there a comprehensive list of rights anywhere?

Do I have the right to a silly mop of blond hair?

Professor Eccles answers: I once read a book by Simone Weil - clever lady - in which she argued that talking about "rights" was silly, and we should be talking more about "responsibilities". So instead of saying "I have a right to a silly mop of blond hair", we should argue "The NHS has a duty to provide me with a silly blond wig". Instead of saying "I have a right to give blood", we might say "The NHS (or Count Dracula, or whoever you wish to give it to) has a duty to accept this bottle of red stuff that I've brought in with me."

"Cliff Richard might get your lot - that'd slow him down a bit."

Human rights have clearly changed over time: originally Ug the cave-man felt he had the "right" to food and shelter - but not necessarily the prime cut of mammoth or the most comfortable rock to lay his head on. The human right to watch Russell Brand on colour television never occurred to him (those were happier times). Even then he might feel he had the right to be a high priest and to participate in the sacrifices that were going on (mostly goats in those days, it seems).

After some thought, I have formulated the Eccles Principle of Human Rights. Human Rights are whatever someone else has that you want.

Jeremy Clarkson has a Mercedes Benz - so it is your human right to have one too!

It is clear that the Eccles principle will improve your life immeasurably. Want a seat in the House of Lords? It's your human right - frankly, the last few appointees seem to have been chosen at random, so you are probably just as suitable. Do you want to be a lady Catholic bishop? It is your right to reassign your gender as "female" (if necessary), and initiate a new career, bullying deacons and posing for narcissistic pictures - or whatever it is that bishops do.

You too have the right to participate in a Dr Who tribute act!

Correction: as we went to press, we learned that you do not have the human right to express your opinion if it offends atheists, liberals, socialists or terrorists. Sorry about that.

Nuns on the Bus sent to Iraq

Sr Christine Frost is the Catholic nun who single-handedly defeated ISIS in East London by tearing down an Islamic jihad flag, where the Police, the British Army, and all the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men dared not venture.

Now safe for policemen once more.

As a result, Barack Obama has decided to deploy the famous American "Nuns on the Bus" in Iraq, as the force most likely to send ISIS fleeing in terror. Said Archbishop Joseph Kurtz, President of the USCCB, "We have long wondered what's God's purpose was for the Nuns on the Bus. They call themselves Catholics, but they reject so much Catholic teaching that most of us think of them as a wacky Protestant sect. I don't know about the Muslims, but they sure terrify me."

"Make my day, Galloway! We won't do things the Allah-way!"

It is thought that several busloads of nuns will be sent to confront ISIS. Said General Sister Simone Campbell, their leader, "We have long wanted the opportunity to put men in their place, and where better to start than with the sexist homophobic anti-liberal men of ISIS? By the time we've finished with them, we'll have them wearing burkhas and doing the cleaning and flower-arranging in their mosques, where the ecumenical Muslim-Catholic services will be taken by liberal female mullah-priests who don't wear traditional vestments of any kind."

The sign of "NUN", used to show support for the nuns.

It is thought that President Obama has offered the nuns more modern transport than the clapped-out buses to which they are accustomed, but these have been firmly rejected by Sr Simone. "It's too late now to call ourselves the Nuns in the Jeep, or the Nuns in the Tank," she says. "Anyway, our marching song, The nuns in the bus go drone drone drone, would have to be rewritten."

Britain's belated contribution: one nun, on a bike.

The Pilgrim's Ogress 8: Getting tough with ISIS

Continued from Part 7.

The story so far: Eccles and his Aunt Moly are on a pilgrimage, and have now arrived in Portugal. Prime Minister David Cameron takes up the story.

I may not care about ISIS but I'm very worried about iced fish.

As Prime Minister, I find that a period of rest and relaxation is a very important part of my job, and so Samantha and I headed for Cascais in Portugal, in order to recharge our batteries by making an in-depth study of fish markets. We were just giggling at an overgrown Scottish Salmond that had run aground and been caught out, when in walked a young man in a red biretta accompanied by an old lady clutching a gin bottle.

"Enjoying your holiday?" asked the rather vacant-looking man, whose name, it later transpired, was Eccles.

"This is a time for difficult, and I may say, unpopular decisions," I replied sternly. "I have a positive vision of what is needed for a fair and just dinner tonight; however, I still have to convince Samantha that our future depends on going for the efficiency and flexibility of a meal based on haddock, rather than the more popular short-term alternative of cod."

"Oh really. Heard the news, by the way?" asked Eccles. "ISIS is committing genocide in the Middle East, Christians are being massacred, and President Obama has responded by getting his golf handicap down to 22."

George Galloway - hitting Israel where it hurts by banning their tourists from Bradford.

"Woeful!" screeched the old lady who, I later discovered, was Eccles's aunt.

"Yes, I thought things had gone quiet," I rejoined. "We seem to have lost someone called Baroness Whowasshe over the Gaza issue - I was never quite sure how she got into my government in the first place - and she was a Muslim woman, so I am going to have to use Google to find another. Also, Boris wants my job again."

"So you don't propose to do anything to help the Christians in Mosul, or the Yazidis on Mount Sinjar?"

"Oh no, I don't think that would be very popular with our focus groups," I explained. "There are no votes in helping Christians - they refuse to subscribe to my core policy of seizing the middle ground between Good and Evil. And although it might be nice on the grounds of equality and diversity to save a few Yazidi refugees with their 'Peacock Angel' temples, this is not going to help me win the 2015 election, is it? I might alienate the Muslim terrorist vote."

No votes in peacock angels.

"Have you no shame? No conscience?" asked Eccles, his originally-placid countenance suddenly as twisted as Vince Cable gets when I tell him his sums are all wrong.

Luckily, I never go shopping for fish without my personal bodyguard - there are sharks everywhere - and Eccles was hastily escorted away. I have a deep conviction that my policies - based on the old legal maxim of caput in arena*, will soon be widely accepted, even amongst the small Christian community, but it is an uphill struggle to convince them!

*head-in-the-sand

Continued in Part 9.

A thoroughly modern Muslim

George de Pfeffel Cholmondeley-Farquharson is one of the new breed of "liberal" Muslims, most of whom were greatly influenced by the "Mecca II" council of the 1960s.

George de Pfeffel Cholmondeley-Farquharson.

When I came to interview him in his beautiful Kensington house, from which he operates London's biggest camel-hire business, he explained that, although culturally a Muslim, his religious beliefs had been much influenced by modern liberals such as Polly Toynbee, George Galloway, and Tina Beattie.

In fact, Islamic belief in Britain is currently in a state of flux, as the so-called "Magic Crescent" of liberal Ayatollahs is anxious to welcome all believers, regardless of colour, race, creed, sexual orientation or even religious conviction. George naturally finds his place in a liberal Mosque, where they even hold "gay" services.

The Mosque where Imam Nichols operates.

George's charming wife Aisha (age 9) was away at the Cat Stevens Primary School when I called round, but she had left a pile of sausage rolls for us to consume with our Château Hamza claret, in itself a sign that George no longer follows the Islamic customs as strictly as his ancestors (the Cholmondeley-Farquharsons of Libya) used to.

Food for a modern Muslim.

I asked him about his praying rituals. Did he make use of a prayer mat for regular worship ad orientem? George explained to me that, since Mecca II, it had become customary for prayers to be held in a west-facing position, so that one had one's back towards Allah. Moreover, the traditional prayer mat had been in urgent need of modernization.

Novus Ordo prayer mat.

George himself is very fond of participating in ecumenical services - for example he attends a Catholic church in the Southwark archdiocese where the deacon welcomes Muslim worshippers, explaining that "After all, we all believe the same thing really."

George has not been on the traditional haj, finding Mecca a little too expensive for a pilgrimage. However, he is shortly planning a two-week stay in Bradford, visiting the Alhambra Theatre, a well-known shrine. Here he plans to hear a Paul Inwood arrangement of sacred Islamic music, played by the ukelele orchestra of Great Britain.

The Alhambra, Bradford, soon to host sacred music from the ukelele orchestra of Great Britain.

Finally I asked George about his cultural traditions. "Well, I am a very ecumenical Muslim, so I feel slighly uneasy about smiting the infidel," he explained. "In our weekly Koran-study classes, we learn that we are promised 72 virgins in Paradise if we go berserk and slaughter a few Christians. But then - who wants 72 mothers-in-law? No, I decided to go for the lesser 'all the sherbet you can eat' option, and this only required me to cut the hands off the local vicar."

Father Cleese, of the Church Militant.

As I said my farewells to George, I reflected that Islam, the religion of peace, is adapting itself very well to modern secular culture. How can anyone find anything objectionable in George's lifestyle?

Bad hymns 19

Today the judges of the Eccles Bad Hymn Award are looking at another unusual hymn. This one is apparently recommended for use on the occasion of the death of a public figure - at least, by nine out of ten munchkins, the BBC, and also George "Respect" Galloway. It is Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead, and we are honoured to have the author, Edgar Yipsel Harburg, with us to discuss it.

I turned George Galloway into a toad and no-one noticed.

EYH: Just call me "Yip," Eccles.

E: Yup. Now, explain this hymn to me, as it's not one I've come across - although my friend Fr Arthur, a liberal priest in good standing, uses it at funerals occasionally if he feels that the deceased did not meet his high standards. Is it a bit like Ding-Dong, merrily on high?

EYH: Well, not really. In fact it originated in The Wizard of Oz, although like My Way it is sometimes chosen for funerals. At least, if the deceased was controversial in some circles.

E: Ding-Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch! Ding-Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.

EYH: Music by Paul Inwood. Only joking... it was Harold Arlen.

E: It's too spiritual for Paul Inwood, Yip, take it from me. Now, I think I get your meaning here: we are all miserable sinners, but it is only proper to ring the passing-bell as we depart this world?

He went and told the sexton, and the sexton tolled the bell - Thomas Hood.

EYH: I hadn't thought of it that way, Eccles. You may prefer another hymn I wrote, about the promise of Heaven: Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.

Somewhere, over the rainbow...

E: Not sure where the rainbows fit into contemporary theology, but I expect that some people do sing that one at funerals. They probably also sing We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz.

EYP: We're off to see the Wizard was sung at the funeral of Lloyd George, the so-called "Welsh Wizard." My father knew him.

The Welsh Wizard.

E: Well thanks, Yip, I'm still mystified about the context for this hymn: did George Galloway sing "Ding-Dong" at his mother's funeral? Will any other politicians get a state "Ding-Dong"?

EYH: Look, Eccles, can we forget this silly song?

E: How can we? Kevin Mayhew Limited want to put it in their new edition of Catholic hymns for the dangerously insane. Still, thanks for coming along, Yip. Your way home is easy - just follow the yellow brick road.

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Previous entries for the Eccles Bad Hymn Award:

Lord of the Dance.    Shine, Jesus, shine.    Enemy of apathy.    Walk in the Light.
Kum Ba Yah.    Follow me.    God's Spirit is in my heart.    Imagine.    Alleluia Ch-ch.
It ain't necessarily so.    I, the Lord of sea and sky.    Colours of day.    The red flag.
Go, the Mass is ended.    I watch the sunrise.    Bind us together, Lord.    Our god reigns.
My way.

Ave! Magazine

Ave! Magazine has the exclusive photos of the 80th birthday party of Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, at which a galaxy of celebrities joined to wish the cardinal Ad multos annos.

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The Sacred

Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor was clearly enjoying himself immensely.

Vincent Nichols sits by his mobile phone. "I'm expecting a man to call about a red hat," he explains.

Mgr Basil Loftus (centre) conducts a simple post-Vatican-II service of thanksgiving for the ministry of Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor.

Pope Benedict XVI (Keeper of the Keys) receives from Arthur Roche (Keeper of the Padlocks) a catalogue of those churches in Rome destined for closure.

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The semi-sacred

Damian Thompson, a Notting Hill journalist, grumbles that the carnival organizers asked him to play his piano more quietly, as they couldn't hear themselves revel.

Tony and Cherie Blair, who generously waived half their normal appearance fee, were the life and soul of the party.

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The definitely profane

Polly Toynbee explains how she went to Tuscany to see for herself how women were being oppressed by the Catholic Church.

"Am I overdressed?" quips Prince Harry, grandson of the Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

The Honourable Member for Bradford West (representing Julian Assange) shows Respect.

Boris Johnson and Kelly Brook arrive by bike. Lance Armstrong wanted to come as well, but is banned from cycling.

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One of the many gifts given to Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor

The Venus de Milo, lovingly restored by a little old lady.