Ordain a Lady!

Dr Who scarf Stole and purple chasuble: that'll annoy the traddies!

We asked some distinguished commentators to give us their views on the hilarious video Ordain a Lady! produced by the Women's Ordination Conference.

For those who missed it, it contains the strongest arguments for the ordination of women, that we've heard so far, including the self-effacing:

Don't listen to St Paul,
'Cuz I can lead the way.

---

Father Zorro, priest and hero.

The picture of the women dancing contains so many liturgical abuses that I won't bother to list them, but I should point out that the lady at the front is improperly dressed for Mass (apart from omitting the biretta and wearing a stole above her chasuble) since she is clearly not carrying any concealed weapons. Where did she put her swordstick, her automatic pistol, and her hand grenades?

At this time many priests in good standing (i.e., not liberal ones) will now be ordering fresh supplies of land mines, tanks and atomic bazookas for use in the rite according to the Extraordinary Form. Could you please order them from Amazon via my website? Thanks.

---

Pope Mommy I.

My ministry is growing.
Excommunication? I'm still glowing.
M.Div, chasuble flowing,
Where you think the Church is going?

Damian Thompson, blood-crazed ferret.

We should respect the lady above because she has a real M.Div. rather than a silly doctorate like Éoin Clarke (Doctor of Irish Jokes) or Richard Chartres (who doesn't really have a doctorate at all). However, the inside sources to which I have exclusive access suggest that Archbishop Vincent Nichols is unlikely to ordain her in the near future.

Possibly the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has had a hand in this. Look how the fortnightly Soho "Gay Masses" are to be driven underground and replaced by weekly Mayfair Gay Masses. If Vincent Nichols cracks down much further expect them to be driven underground completely, surviving only as daily Gay Masses at the Oratory.

Do let me know what you think. Unless you are on my little list of enemies, when my moderators will delete your comments in double-quick time!

Paul Priest, On the side of the angels.

Look, we all know what Chesterton, Newman, Dostoyevsky, Pope Pius XI and Mae West had to say about the hermeneutics underlying this video. However, there's no need for me to quote their words, as nobody else round here would understand them except me. It's important not to place two antagonistic hypotheticals together into one paradigm. Remember that if it were not for Damian Thompson, the Catholic church would have collapsed, for it was Damian who single-handedly prevented Cormac Murphy-O'Connor from ordaining his own aunt.

---

Through my most grievous fault...

My call is a fact, but some Pope in a hat,
Closed discussion on that, and now he's in my way.

Deacon Moanin, the most miserable man on the Internet (in biretta).

I wear a hat, and I am in the same job as the Pope, so I know you're getting at me again, Eccles, just because I am an orthodox Catholic, and not a tradinista like you.

---

Giles Fraser, comedy vicar.

I am quite prepared to go to prison on the issue of women priests. Or anything else. It will do wonders for my credibility with Guardian-readers. Please send me to prison. All I ask is a humble cell with internet access and a BBC broadcast team. In my next Guardian column I ask: Is it OK for women to pretend they are men in order to become bishops?

---

And finally...

A young Catherine Pepinster (R) explains St Thérèse of Lisieux's hatred for the Pope.

The Guardian: bringing dark desires to light

The Guardian newspaper has a circulation of approximately 200,000: this suggests that approximately 0.5-1% of the British population could be suffering from Guardophilia.

A logo used to attract Guardophiles. But are they dangerous?

Far from being the loathsome monsters as which they are normally portrayed, it has recently been suggested that Guardophiles are ordinary members of society, who simply need our moral support. It is true that you would not wish vulnerable people to be exposed to the Guardian, with its relentless diet of indecent and immoral articles, but there is little evidence that Guardian readers themselves are a serious danger to society.

A dodgy cartoon by Julius Streicher of the Guardian.

In these days of moral relativism, some say that the Guardian provides a valuable public service in giving ordinary people a vision of Hell, a place where the damned slave over their computers, churning out socialist propaganda on a daily basis.

Protection agencies are divided in their opinions as to whether exposure to the shocking material in the Guardian (for example, an atheist rant by Polly Toynbee) can cause permanent psychological damage. It is the view of Alan Rushbridger that many people survive the Guardianwithout too much emotional scarring, and that they are afterwards able to lead almost-normal lives.

Alan Rushbridger: "Don't drive Guardian-readers underground!"

We can help keep people safe, Rushbridger argues, "by allowing Guardophiles to be ordinary members of society, with moral standards like everyone else," and by "respecting and valuing those Guardophiles who choose self-restraint." Only then will adults tempted to read revolting newspapers be able to be honest about their desires, and find support from the ordinary Telegraph-reading public.

Genome Style

For those who aren't familiar with rapping, the idea is to take a repetitive and rather trivial lyric and recite it to an even more repetitive and dull beat. An example which springs to mind is:

Lord, the light of your love is shining,
In the midst of the darkness, shining.
Jesus, light of the world, shine upon us,
Set us free by the truth you now bring us.

Got that? Then let's start, kiddos!

We're doing a rap in da Genome Style,
We're saying all Catholics are vile!

I left New College, and I went back home,
I wrote a book attacking Rome -
Now I'm dashing off another tome - 
Yo! Dudes, I'm called da Selfish Gene-Gnome!

Selfish gene! My pen is scribbling!
Selfish gene! My mouth is dribbling!

Now stretch those arms to left and right,
We're gonna be rappin all da night!

I was getting tired of biology,
So I thought I'd switch to theology -
I confused it with mythology -
But you aint gettin no apology.

We got Genome Style! I keep on screaming!
We got Genome Style! My head is steaming!

When you're getting old, just a little se-nile,
You gotta sit down to do da Genome Style!

As I was rapping round da Quad,
I thought of something rather odd -
I said "There prob'ly aint no God."
They told me: "You're a silly sod!"

Selfish gene! God's a delusion!
Selfish gene! That's my conclusion!

Tell your kids of Christ, that's child abuse.
Teach them Genome Style, that's much more use!

Then for many years I lived in hope,
Dat I was gonna arrest da Pope
And tie him up with a big big rope,
But dey all said "Dawkins is such a dope!"

Genome Style! Oh I'm misbehaving!
Genome Style! Don't tell me I'm raving!

Genome Style!

The Westminster Iron Tonic

After drinking Westminster Iron Tonic, I became an Olympic cyclist.

Are you a pathetic "Magic Circle" bishop, unwilling to take a stance on any issue at all? Do Telegraph journalists kick sand in your face? Are you fêted by the Tablet as someone who will never do anything to shake the liberal consensus?

TAKE WESTMINSTER IRON TONIC!

A spoonful of this daily, and you'll soon be noticed!

A satisfied customer, VN of London, writes:

I was a puny seven-stone archbishop, upon whom everyone looked down with scorn. They praised my macho friends Philip Egan and Mark Davies, while saying that I lacked backbone. But then my life changed...

The day I beat "mad dog" Williams in the archiepiscopal arm-wrestling championships.

My friend Tony Mennini told me to take a spoonful a day of Westminster Iron Tonic. I did so, and felt the iron rush through my bloodstream - yes, I had ferrous-crazed blood! In next to no time I had:

• Told David Cameron to get lost with his same-sex marriage proposals;
• Fought with a pack of rabid dogs;
• Kicked the gay masses out of Warwick Street, Soho;
• Bitten through an iron bar with my teeth;
• Welcomed the Ordinariate into a new church;
• Said "make my day, punk!" to Catherine Pepinster;
• Become the darling of traditional Catholics;
• Received a friendly telephone call from the Pope, promising me something red for my birthday.

I now train daily at the Olympic stadium.

WESTMINSTER IRON TONIC - YOU'LL BE A CARDINAL IN NO TIME!

The Boat of Fools visits Soho

The Boat of Fools.

In this, the first of a new series, our "Mystery Worshipper" makes an incognito visit to a church service and reports back.

---

This week I visited the church of Our Lady of Soho, for one of its final masses under the Very Extraordinary Form.

What was the name of the service? Massykins.

Did anyone welcome you personally? Yes, in fact a little too personally, really. "Ooh, here's a handsome lad, we haven't seen you before. Ooh, I just love that mask, sweetie! Versace, is it?"

The mystery worshipper attempted to blend in discreetly.

Was your pew comfortable? Not really. The pews were covered with soft furnishings, and I was told, "Leave the coverings on, gorgeous, we don't want to scratch those super pews, do we?"

How would you describe the pre-service atmosphere?Very gay.

What were the exact opening words of the service?Hello, super to see you! [And super to see you, too!]

What books did the congregation use during the service?There was a specially printed pink sheet with all the words of the hymns and liturgy, together with advertisements for unusual objects and services, and details of the church's other activities.

Did anything distract you?Yes, the man in the pew behind, who kept nudging me and saying "Everything all right, duckie?"

In a nutshell, what was the sermon about?There was a man named Vincent who cruelly betrayed the gay community simply in order to "gain Rome approval," as St Catherine the Popehater so eloquently expressed it. The woe and suffering of Soho was likened unto the torments of the damned in Hell. Vincent Nichols was a combination of Belshazzar, Judas Iscariot and St Paul - definitely "not one of us."

Vincent Nichols drives the gay community out of Soho.

What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?Three men offered to take me out for some "pastoral care."

How would you describe the after-service coffee? No coffee, just crème de menthe, and some lovely fairy cakes.

From the service itself.

---

Next week, the mystery worshipper reports from Blogfen, the church to which only bloggers are admitted.

No exemptions for Christians

Following a brilliantly original High Court decision by Mr Justice Langstaff that keeping holy the Sabbath day is not a "core component" of Christian belief, and that Christians may henceforth be forced to work on Sundays, we asked a few other High Court judges to explain Christianity to us.

Mr Justice Dredd.

"A prohibition against killing isn't a core component of Christian belief," explained Mr Justice Dredd. "Trust me, I'm a judge, I know these things. If an employer asks a Christian to murder one of his competitors, then the Christian has no right to object on grounds of conscience. It is true that under company law, murders are only permitted if the details are fully disclosed to shareholders at the annual general meeting, but this is not usually a problem."

Judge Dredd went on to explain that he was a great fan of the James Bond films, in which Bond, a pious Catholic, had been given a licence to kill. He had observed that Agent 007 never let his faith stand in the way if it became necessary to blow up the underwater lair of a crazed megalomaniac whose aim was to take over the world, and so he knew exactly what Christianity taught about murder. For that matter, adultery was also occasionally part of the job...

This is all the Law and the Prophets.

Another judge was quick to concur. "There's this commandment about worshipping graven images. Well, we can't give Christians any exemption there, either. Suppose they want to become Conservative cabinet ministers, a noble calling if ever there was one. They would need to kiss all sorts of things en route, including a graven image of David Cameron. They can't expect some sort of exemption, can they?"

Bow, bow, ye lower middle classes! Worship me!

Finally, we asked a Very Senior Judge indeed.

A Very Senior Judge indeed.

Speaking up for Judge Langstaff, a Very Senior Judge indeed agreed that He also expected His employees to work on Sundays; indeed, it was a popular myth amongst the laity that many of His priests only worked on Sundays.

It's no use, Father. You'll have to work Sundays from now on.

So there we have it. Our Lord Langstaff's Summary of the Law is backed by the highest Authority indeed.

Guest blogger, Snowball the pig

Snowball the pig, star of Animal Farm.

Today we are pleased to be able to print an abridged version of the Telegraph blog by Snowball the pig, winner of the prestigious Orwell prize for his role in Animal Farm and his pioneering slogan about marriage: One man bad, two men better!

---

What cheek! Vincent Nichols invoked the spectre of an Orwellian, totalitarian state in his Christmas Day sermon, when he referred to the Government's attempts to bring in same-sex marriage. Christmas is a time for preaching a message of love and sex, for getting drunk and watching The Wizard of Oz on the television, and for wearing red hats with white trimmings. It is NOT a time for talking about morals, for trying to explain good and evil, or for mentioning controversial figures like Christ.

If Vincent Nichols had merely done what most priests do on Christmas Day: talked in vague terms about Father Christmas, and elves, and perhaps told us what Christmas presents he'd received, then nobody would have taken any notice. But he deliberately outraged non-Christians by taking a moral stand.

My partner, Napoleon, agrees with me.

What makes it more outrageous is that the Pope is an ex-Nazi - yes, he is, he is, he was a personal friend of Hitler, I tell you. That alone should stop him from condemning totalitarianism, fascism, dictators, or anything else. Bog off back to your bunker, Ratzinger, what makes you think you have any authority? Did you get an Orwell prize like me, or Polly Toynbee, or even Johann Hari?

The Pope, in the uniform of the Hitler youth, does a Nazi salute.

Well, that's put the Catholic church in its place - as the paramilitary wing of the National Socialists - so let me drone on a bit about Clause 28, that infamous piece of legislation which said that every day schools had to conduct a compulsory Two Minutes Hate for homosexuals. My own school didn't do this - in fact, they didn't mention homosexuality at all, except in geometry lessons, where some of the diagrams taught me how to find a loving life with another man.

Clause 28 banned diagrams like this, which taught me about sex.

Gosh, we had enough trouble reducing the age of consent to 16. You may say that boys of 16 aren't ready for sex, but of course the person they have sex with is often a fat man 20 years older, and he's not only ready, he's dying for it! Anyway, we won that battle, and now we're ready for the final battle - the complete take-over of marriage.

The Archbishop's relentless campaign - which lasted all of ten minutes - makes me more determined that the change must come. As I'm typing this I can hear the howling winds, still, loudly outside my window; the waves crash onto the shore, and the rocks on the beach are slowly worn down. Which is very odd, as I'm in a padded cell in London. I think I need more medication. Nurse!

Beasts of England, Beasts of Ireland...