God and Churchmen Reconciled

As the nation braces itself for the storm of saccharine and faeces which will inevitably choke the time between today and the funeral of that nasty old woman, another major participant in the ceremony has politely cleared its throat. The funeral will take place at St Paul's Cathedral, an apposite enough venue given the cathedral authorities' famously sympathetic attitude towards the City of London; and it will include a generous dollop of Falklands-oriented military kitsch which, among other things, will serve to remind the Church of its place. It was the old bag herself who, furious at Robert Runcie's call to remember the Argentine dead, foisted the ludicrous George Carey on the Anglican Communion as its spiritual leader beneath God, the Queen and Mammon, thereby accelerating if not precipitating the Church's descent into a laughing-stock. Since Carey's successor was the dithering hypocrite Rowan Williams, the Church of England at present is known mainly for warming a few free seats in the Lords and for its writhing sexual contortions, the latest example of which bulged forth today. The Church has announced once again that some forms of love are less equal than others: homosexual relationships "fall short of marriage" and are unworthy of the Church's blessing. It would be difficult to think of a more appropriate offering with which to propitiate the now divine perpetrator of Clause 28.