‘Professor’ Toby Richards sneaks out of a secret summit
NOW look here: One is not at great liberty to divulge the exact location of the gathering, nor the precise reason for such an extraordinary assembly; for extraordinary it most certainly is in the way of these things. It would equally be a deed of the utmost perfidiousness if one were to divulge – whether in or out of one’s cups – intimate details of the discussions and debates within these hereditary hallways, stairwells, even sculleries or, indeed the dining room and other living or sleeping rooms. Most certainly not the library, at all costs.
Probably somewhere in the region of York , or possibly Yeovil – it all depends upon your perspective – the ancestral home in which we are gathered positively hums with hubris, resonates with recollections and shudders at the sibilant secrets shared. The personages herein assembled would, one is certain, describe themselves among the Great and the Good of our slightly jaded nation. There are peers, prelates, professors, politicians and a few of those interlopers from the Fourth Estate who are self-dubbed ‘Press Barons’, when it is quite clear to even the most mentally myopic student of civilized society that the term is nothing but an oxymoron.
The nation’s ramparts of reason and respectability are shuddering
The Straits of Hormuz, the Bosphorus or Gibraltar, individually or collectively, are positive seas of tranquility and moral certainty compared to the dire straits of our increasingly Disunited Monarchdom. The nation’s ramparts of reason and respectability are shuddering under the siege mounted from all quarters: Homosexuals want to get married; women want to be bishops; homeless people want shelter; the low-paid working want food; the workless want work; the Education Secretary, Michael Gove, wants mittimus (according to Unionistic teachers); Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne, wants more money and a new set of drapes, and increasingly, the foreign-born want to live here at all costs. If all the above were not troublesome enough, the Scots are being urged to go-it-alone: no wonder white-on-white racism is on the increase between them and the English!
Why; what have we done? Seems like a reasonable question to ask in the face of unreasonable requests being made of the most reasonable of peoples, wouldn’t you say?
Notwithstanding, our assembly here is committed to debating these pestilential problems, not in order to resolve them – we’re not that stupid – but to agree upon the terms, conditions and language of dealing with them. Definitively. Once and for all. We do not expect to hear of or from them again. Is that clear?
Sorting out the sheep from the goats
Ill-disciplined students and/or teachers? Send in the army to deal with the former; fine the latter. That should work, what? Sorting out the sheep from the goats – the ‘shirkers from the workers’ and the ‘strivers from the skivers’ – seemed pretty straightforward at first utterance until Lord Gadfly remarked indolently that, as far as he was aware, neither his son nor his daughter had done, or ever intended to do, a single day’s work in their lives. “They’ll never need to,” he boasted, “enough money in land and investments to last out their days. No fear of them becoming scroungers! Dash it all!” Which rather set the atabled Big Cheeses with a dicey dilemma: if the skivvies are scullering while their superiors are slumbering, who precisely has the moral high ground? And; what have goats ever done to anyone?
Obviously, I cannot possibly divulge precise particulars of words spoken, thoughts iterated or decisions actively arrived at, any more than a communiqué subsequent to an Economic Forum in Davos, a gathering of the G20, COBRA, an EU summit or a Masonic meeting. With spin doctors these days about as functional and useful as their medical cousins, it is incumbent upon such ones as us to speak the unspeakable, and unsay the said, so to speak.
It’s extremely complicated and not at all assisted by those tine-tongued tattlers from Media – a place I have come to realise is as disturbing, dangerous, decadent and divisive as, I don’t know; the Church of England?
Which is, in itself, also an oxymoron if recent developments are anything to go by.
Antidisestablishmentarianism is fighting a fierce rearguard action when all is said and done, as sane people argue that the Church and State cannot be conjoined any more than chalk and cheese; to be a follower of Christ was, by definition, to put one outside the bounds of the state; to lobby by example in word and deed for the Kingdom of Heaven; to render unto Chancellor Caesar what is his and unto God what is His. As far as most of us are concerned: He’s welcome!
And then you’ve got the Roman Catholic Church, symbolised by the Vatican, which is, in short, a Church State. Unbelievable. Mind you, if the Roman Church is, as some of Christ’s alleged followers have asserted, the Whore of Babylon, then the news that Benedict the Brothel Keeper has opened a ‘Twitter’ account should ensure swelling members of ‘followers’ there too. Or is that a swelling of the number of members following? Great blubbering bishops! Some things unsaid should be said; and vice versa. Harrumph!
The ‘Professor’ has now posted guards on the borders with Social Media.
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