The Portsmouth liturgy survey

Paul Inwood explains the thinking behind his work.

We in the People's Republic of Portsmouth are very angry about the new translation of the liturgy, which goes right against the dumbing-down tradition we have followed all our lives. Indeed, the new version attempts to get closer to that heretical Latin missal which has blighted the Church for so many years.

A humble pie chart. The ICEL told me to eat it.

For the full document, you will need to go to this source, but here are some of the more striking results.

Q1. What do you think of the new translation of the Mass?

(a) Even better than the Sermon on the Mount (2%);
(b) OK (88%);
(c) They should have got Paul Inwood to do it (10%).

As you can see, 98% of the people who responded are totally dissatisfied.

Personally, I think some of the words are too difficult.

Q2. How much training were you given in its use?

(a) None at all - I'm quite capable of reading the new words off a piece of paper (30%);
(b) Some practice before the service (67%);
(c) A three-week intensive "boot camp" where I was fully indoctrinated. (3%).

As you can see, 97% of worshippers feel that they were not adequately prepared.

A boot camp; here, worshippers are learning the correct posture for prayer.

Q3. Traditional Catholic worship dates from the 1960s. Which of the following composers do you think best represents the 1960s?

(a) Bach (2%);
(b) Beethoven (2%);
(c) Paul Inwood (96%).

As you can see, a staggering 96% of people replying believe that Paul Inwood is the greatest composer who ever lived.

Bach - 98% of people think he has a silly hairstyle.

In addition, we asked people completing the survey to write down as many abusive epithets for the new translation as they could. Comments included:

* Blasphemous;
* Foul-mouthed language - too vile even for the BBC;
* Roche? Isn't that the French for "rock?" I suspect that the Pope's behind all this;
* My granny came out in spots the week after using it; that can't be a coincidence;
* Encourages paedophilia;
* Totally ignores the theological advances made by Richard Dawkins;
* I had to shoot my parrot when it started saying "consubstantial";
* Worse than anything Hitler ever did;
* Look, I'm a professional builder and any roof I make is fit for a King to enter under;
* Treats God like some sort of divine being rather than our best mate;
* I would have used "will" rather than "shall" at this point; clearly Arthur Roche is an illiterate savage;
* Has severely affected the sales of my music. Oops!

Arthur Roche - taking us back to Roman times.

Sorry, ICEL, you got it wrong. We in Portsmouth will continue to sing Paul Inwood's immortal anthem "Ying-tong ying-tong, ying-tong ying-tong, ying-tong iddle I po" and don't you try and stop us!

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If you disliked this article, you will certainly not want to read these:

An audience with Paul Inwood    and    Bad hymns 9 (Alleluia Ch-Ch).

New Hymns 3

Well, Advent is with us, the commercial impersonators of St Nicholas are in the shops, and the streets have been ringing with Christmas carols for about three months now. So we felt it appropriate to invite Charles Wesley here, to participate in an Eccles master-class on how Hark! The Herald Angels Sing could be adapted for modern worship.

Charles Wesley: willing to learn from modern hymn-writers.

Eccles: Charles, nice to see you here, today. I was at the Tablet Christmas party last week, and the guests joined in with a version of your hymn that began:

Hark! The Tina Beattie sings:
"Blame the Pope for everything!"

CW: Thanks for inviting me here, Eccles. In fact, my original version began:

Hark! How all the welkin rings:
Glory to the King of Kings,

so I'm quite used to people altering the words.

E: Alas, welkins have been done to death in that famous song Whelk, whelk, whelk in the light, by Damian Lundy.

A whelk in the light.

CW: So, in our improved version, shall we stick with Mendelssohn's tune? After all, it's the one used throughout the whole world.

E: Except in Portsmouth, apparently, where some local chap has got the hymn banned in favour of his own repertoire. Sing me a few lines, so that we can see what it's all about.

CW: Hark! The herald angels sing:
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled."

A herald angel, off duty.

E: Stop, stop, stop! I can see what you're doing wrong. You've got at least one new idea in each line, and none of them repeated. Why, Graham Kendrick would have started off with Hark, angels, hark and spun out the first line to a whole verse.

CW: It's good of you tell me this, Eccles. We can all learn from modern masters.

E: Let's give the Hark! motif more prominence. How about:

Hark, hark, hark! The angels sing.
Hark, hark, hark! The newborn King!
Hark, hark, hark! We're meek and mild.
Hark, hark, hark! We're reconciled.

Hark, hark, hark! We're meek and mild.

CW: I see, what you're doing there. Cutting out most of the theology and making sure the song is really about us, not God.

E: There's still something wrong, though. "Reconciled" won't do. It's a long word, and might distress the congregation.

CW: How about Hark, hark, hark! We won't go wild for the fourth line?

E: Yes, that's much better. The only way the song could be improved now would be by changing "Hark" to "Ho". Nobody says "Hark" these days, especially not post-Vatican II angels.

CW: So we arrive at the final version, which is much more Christmassy!

Ho, ho, ho! The angels sing.
Ho, ho, ho! The newborn King!
Ho, ho, ho! We're meek and mild.
Ho, ho, ho! We won't go wild.

E: Perfect! Well, you can finish it off, Chazza.

"Ho, ho, ho!" The true message of Christmas.

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Earlier masterclasses: John Henry Newman    King David.

An audience with Paul Inwood

Having read the startling comment from Paul Inwood, the Prostecnic Vogon Jeltz of Catholic worship, claiming that Pope Benedict - a mere novice in these matters - had made an incorrect statement about liturgy, I hurried down to Portsmouth for an audience with the great man.

Pope Paul VII.

The palace of Pope Paul VII is truly magnificent, as one would expect from a man of his distinction and importance (he told me). I entered and knelt before "the man who put the 'litter' in 'liturgy.'" Paul was sitting on a golden throne, and he graciously allowed me to kiss his ring. In one corner of the room, there stood a choir of mystic monks, intoning a solemn and dignified Gregorian chant. This surprised me, as I had been expecting a choir to be singing "Alleluia Ch-Ch" in one-part harmony, but it was later explained to me by an aide that "round here, Inwoodian chant is business, Gregorian is pleasure."

Hell - one place where you are sure to hear Paul Inwood's music.

So I asked the man they call the Head of the Caterwaul Church about his relations with his great rival in Rome. "Benedict is fundamentally a good man," he said, "although of course he is not an educated man like what I is, and he does not have access to an army of advisers as I do. No wonder he made the blunder of denying that Pope Paul VI had abrogated the EF Mass. Benedict evidently hadn't read the Encyclical De Musica Vulgarissima in which it was specifically asked that all content be removed from the liturgy, and that henceforth we should sing jolly songs involving finger-snaps and animal noises."

A modern congregation appreciates the music of Paul Inwood.

Knowing that Paul Inwood's pronouncements are generally believed to be infallible, I decided that here was a case of Pompeius locutus est, causa finita est.

"So how are you getting on with the new Bishop of Portsmouth, Philip Egan?" I asked. "I hear that he's something of a traditionalist."

"We get on very well," said his Howler-ness. "He is very concerned that I may be tired through overwork. The Bishop sends me all sorts of interesting literature about retirement schemes, and he suggests that a holiday home in Beirut would suit me down to the ground. It's good to be appreciated."

Before I left the holy presence, I persuaded Pope Paul VII to give me his blessing. "Bless you, bless you, bless you, Ch-Ch-Ch! Snap-Snap! Here a Moo, there a Moo, everywhere a Moo-Moo," he sang, making me feel at one with the beasts of the field with these simple but well-chosen words. Yes, I had been in the presence of a great man, or at least, "a man who grates."

Where ever you go, the music of Paul Inwood is to be heard

Witches' coven claims religious persecution

It was reported that witches in Stockport were claiming religious persecution, having been forbidden from using Catholic church premises for their own rituals. However, they have decided to fight back, and we can reveal that they have now obtained planning permission for a "gingerbread house" of their own.

St Sycorax's - soon to be open for worship

Said a spokesman, Lady Jadis of Charn, "We are traditionally called 'White witches,' which means that our doctrines should be fully compatible with modern Catholic thought. It is true that I do occasionally get excited and turn people into stone, but this does at least stop them fidgeting in church."

Mrs McGonagall conducts the choir

Fr John Joyce, a spokesman for the diocese of Shrewsbury, was less enthusiastic. "If these ladies wish to use our premises, there are several theological stumbling blocks that we need to overcome:

1. Women officiating at services. This is a problem we have had with the Anglicans too.

2. Gratuitously turning people into amphibians. It is true that Father Ogg seems to be greatly improved in appearance since his interview with Mrs Morgan le Faye, but he now finds it very hard to serve at the altar.

Fr Ogg (blessings be upon him)

3. Liturgical differences. Looking into a mirror and saying 'Who is the fairest of them all?' may be all right for the Baptists, but it is not a form of words authorized in the new translation of the Liturgy.

4. Dancing round cauldrons singing 'Eye of newt and toe of frog.' Acceptable in Portsmouth maybe, thanks to Paul Inwood, but not really done in the Shrewsbury diocese."

Would it help if we sang "Alleluia, Ch Ch?"

Liberal elements in the Catholic church have pressed the Pope to "reach out to our separated sisters in sorcery," but Vatican insiders do not think there is much hope of any agreement at this stage.

The delegation sent to Rome foresees little but "Toil and trouble" ahead.

Bad Hynms 9

Today the Eccles Bad Hymn Award judges are honoured to welcome, hot-foot from Portsmouth, the one and only Paul Inwood.

Gregorian Chant bad, Inwoodian Chant good.

E: Great to see you here, Paul. I see that on your website you say of yourself: "He has extensive liturgical knowledge and experience, dynamic musical skills, and a commitment to a wide range of styles in liturgy and liturgical music."

PI: I'm also known for my ease in communicating with people and my wonderful sense of humour, Eccles.

E: Ah yes. So I see from your hymns. Shall we start with this one, Alleluia Cha-cha?

PI: Er, it's "Ch-ch," not "Cha-cha," actually.

Pardon me, boy. Is that the Alleluia choo-choo?

E: I see. Isn't "Ch-ch" rather meaningless? Why not make it "Alleluia Beep-beep," or "Alleluia Oink-oink?"

PI: Well, I was drawing on my extensive liturgical knowledge and experience when I wrote this hymn, Eccles.

E: Of course. Well there aren't many other words in the hymn, although I see that later on it goes "Alleluia, Alleluia-Ha." Your wonderful sense of humour, eh, Paul?

PI: I develop the "Alleluia" theme further in another hymn, Finger-Snap Alleluia."SNAP! Alleluia."

Could this also be a Paul Inwood hymn?

E: Yes, that's wonderful, Paul. I see that "Finger-Snap Alleluia" is a copyrighted hymn.

PI: Yes, anyone snapping their fingers has to pay me royalties.

E: Now the last hymn I wanted to discuss with you has actually got some original words. It's Go and tell the world.

PI: The birds and the mammals are His.
The fish and the reptiles are His.
The millions of insects are His.
The germs and the microbes are His.

E: Well, Paul, your last line seems to suggest that God has a nasty illness, but I dare say there are other interpretations.

PI: Yes. Note that I left out amphibians, though. We in Portsmouth often ask ourselves, "Are newts His? Are frogs His?" So, to play safe, I omitted the amphibians.

And are the axolotls His?

E: Now, here's a spiritually moving couplet:

Our sisters and brothers are His.
Our fathers and mothers are His.

Er, what about other relatives? I have this great-aunt... is she His?

PI: I'm working on some more verses, Eccles. What do you think of this?

Our spots and carbuncles are His.
Our great-aunts and uncles are His.

E: Magnificent, Mr Inwood. You have single-handedly done for liturgy and music what nobody else has ever done.

Paul Inwood, weighing up the relative merits of "Alleluia, Ta-ta" and "Alleluia, Pip-pip."

Internet addiction and Monsignor Ban O'ffee

By Damian Thompson (no photo available)

What the Internet can do to you - an addict in January and July 2012

One of the problems we have at the Telegraph is an addiction to the Internet. As can be seen from the pictures above, in the space of a few months it can turn a glamorous young woman into a raddled old harridan whose natural home would be the Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud's. Luckily, I have found a solution: by writing dozens of tedious blogs about addiction I have managed to cut the readership of my own blog down to a handful of die-hards. A few more well-placed insults should soon get rid of them as well.

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Mgr Ban O'ffee

Those who think that Paul Inwood's contribution to the musical and liturgical life of the Portsmouth diocese should be classed with Jack the Ripper's contribution to the night life of London are pleased that an arch-traditionalist, Monsignor Ban O'ffee, has been appointed as the new bishop. Mgr O'ffee is expected to ban all celebrations of the Mass in English, which he regards as a barbarous modern tongue.

Paul Inwood's own songs, of which the most famous are those deeply spiritual works:

The God on the bus goes round and round, all day long,

Pontius Pilate sat on a wall, Pontius Pilate had a great fall, and

Bread-of-life Bread-of-life Jesus, man, bake me some bread as fast as You can,

will certainly not be wasted, as they will be recycled as episcopal toilet-paper.

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Please buy this book, so that I can feed my addiction to CDs

Damian Thompson (under the pseudonym Sophie McKenzie) has written The Fix, a thrilling crime story. A stranger offers Damian cash to fix a football match. Will he do the right thing? This is a gripping football thriller, particularly suitable for struggling, reluctant and dyslexic teen readers (e.g. people who post on his blog under pseudonyms such as "phil_evans," "Markus River" and "Sanctimony").