Wednesday, 3 June 2020

The Ultraviolet Enema Kit

Bit weird. Yesterday we had a large orange man turn up outside the Moot House for a photo shoot. He told us he was looking to co-opt our faith to support his war on "people who think black people are also people".

Had to tell him that black people are also people, as much as orange people. Which disappointed him. On the bright side, I managed to sell him an Ultraviolet Enema Kit. It's a brilliant concept. It releases fluorescent nanoparticles into the bodily functions where the sun don't shine, disinfecting at the molecular level. If it don't cure your Covid 19, at least it takes your mind off it for a bit.

I must say, these kits are going like hot cakes. Sold one to some bloke the other week who was on his way to Durham to take Covid up there with him. He phoned me up to say it worked, but it made his eyes go funny. Well yes, it would. That's an overlarge siphon tube Young Keith included, in my opinion. But when he said he "passed Barnard Castle", apparently that was a route direction, not a side effect.

Anyway, the orange bloke went back to a place which apparently he needs to make great again, again. But due to time differences, he called me at 2am UK time to ask me what to do with it.

So naturally I  told him.

Ah, the old ones are the best. 

Tuesday, 2 June 2020

Liturgy for Thomas Hardy's Birthday

Yokel 1: It's that Thomas Hardy's birthday then.

Yokel 2: Aye. Dead and gone as we all shall be.

Y1: Shall us go to the Pure Drop?

Y2: It's closed for lockdown.

Y1: Shall us go for a drap o' sommat at Peter's Finger?

Y2: Closed for lockdown.

Y1: What about the Quiet Woman?

Y2: Closed for lockdown.

Y1: Dree Mariners at Casterbridge? I hear they had a pretty drap o' tipple.

Y2: Closed for lockdown.

Y1: Shall us go jump off Durdle Door? 

Y2: Aye, it's a sunny day. Wi' all my heart. 

Y1: What's the point o' being the village idiots if we can't act like it?

Y2: Shall us get Tranter Cummings to take us in his cart?

Y1: What? Wi' his eyesight?

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Saturday, 30 May 2020

Litany for Watching a Facebook Service Upload on a Saturday Afternoon

Oh how many are my woes
All week long have I worked at this service and sermon
For it is given that for six days shall we labour
working out the best camera angles
wishing we had a proper camera, like unto All Saints Northampton
and not just this Chromebook
which maketh my face look like unto the pumpkin
and my voice to sound even like Kermit which is called the Frog
and splicing musical interludes
and contributions from members of the congregation
into a liturgical tour de force
a performance to make even Angela Tilby proud. 

And I have checked the copyright laws
even for the eighty-third time.
And on the seventh day shall I sit looking at a bar that saith "processing: 40%"
and all day long have I held out my hands 
at the computer screen
saying "How long, O Lord?
"How long shall I be trapped in this study
worrying that if I look not at the screen
the upload shall crash
under the strain of thousands of clergies
all over the world
all uploading their worship at the same time?"

And I think to myself - shall I trust instead unto Zoom?
And I think - probably not after the other week.
I'm not having that happen again.

And so shall I sit and weep
and pour out my tears upon the desk
and wait for the coming of the little red box
on the notification bell
that tells me that my work is complete
and I can enjoy my Sabbath rest
until the emails come in tomorrow
telling me it isn't working.
Surely this will be my life all the days of lockdown
and I shall abide in my study 
looking at the sunshine outside the window
until the summer is gone
and this video is not saved.

Better start again.

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Friday, 29 May 2020

A Site for Sore Eyes

Thanks for all the help we've received from our new Beaker Person, Barnard Castle.

It was a surprise when Barnard pulled up in his camper van, with his wife, Beaumaris, and his young sons, Dudley and Warwick, a week into lockdown. We'd no idea they were coming but apparently they were acting on instinct.

And who'd have thought, at a time like this, that we would be lucky enough to acquire an optometrist! I'm not sure that Barnard's technique is altogether orthodox. But he's right. If people can get round that obstacle course without crashing their cars, there's nothing wrong with their eyesight.

Barnard's clinic will reopen once we've cleared the debris from the drive. Meanwhile Beaumaris is busy writing an article on their experiences here for the Beaker magazine: "Our Lockdown in East Grinstead".

Saturday, 23 May 2020

"Durham Town" (to the tune "Cummings")

I've got to leave old Durham town,
I've got to leave old Durham town.
I've got to leave old Durham town,
Cos this copper says I'm breaking Lockdown.

Boris went down with a cough
Next day I was feeling off
ran down Downing Street and then headed north
Cos we were leaving, leaving, leaving....

I've got to leave old Durham town,
I've got to leave old Durham town.
I've got to leave old Durham town,
Cos this copper says I'm breaking Lockdown.

Driving from the big city
Your rules don't apply to me
Classic Dom does just what he wants
But now we're leaving, leaving, leaving...

I've got to leave old Durham town,
I've got to leave old Durham town.
I've got to leave old Durham town,
Cos this copper says I'm breaking Lockdown.

With apologies to the great great Roger Whittaker.

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Thursday, 21 May 2020

New Beaker Hymn Book Out

When you're locked down, what helps to pass the time away more than tweaking a few words in some old hymns and repackaging them as a whole new concept?

And that's why we're really delighted to announce the launch of our new Beaker hymn book.

Its features include

  • More unnecessary modernisation resulting in terrible rhymes.
  • The complete removal of the word "rapture".
  • Some terrible new songs celebrating God as scientist, astronaut and celebrity chef. 
  • Removing any theology suggestive of penal substitution.
  • Some songs that don't really work about social justice that will probably be really popular with theological courses.
  • The beautiful Christmas carol for the liberal minded, "Snowflake for Jesus (I wanna be a)".
  • No martial images. So "Onward Christian Soldiers" is now "Onward Christian Plumbers". "Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory" now has God's truth "plodding on". And "Stand up for Jesus" now refers to "ye holders of the cross". 

The New Revised Complete Collected Updated Collated Modern Authorised Comprehensive Ancient & Prehistoric Sounds of  Living Pebbles (Anglicised) For a New Generation of Beaker Worship Part III.

Now only £32.17 from the Beaker Online Bazaar. Buy three and get a free pack of tea lights.

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Ascension Day

Can I thank Hnaef for doing his best to keep our liturgical life as normal as possible in these strange times.

Now if anyone has any ideas for a socially-distanced method of getting him off the Great House roof, I'd be really grateful. 

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Monday, 18 May 2020

Safety Fears as Wetherspoons Carpets Dry Out

As the Government attempts to placate Telegraph columnists and offshore trusts by loosening lockdown, new concerns have been raised for the safety, after restrictions have been released for pubs, of the customers of Wetherspoons.

Analysis at a number of Wetherspoons outlets have revealed that, after unseasonably good weather throughout two months of lockdown, their carpets have dried out. This has not happened since the drought of 1976.

"We're really concerned about our customers when they get back in," said red-faced spokesscarecrow Tom Witherspoon. "It's like when Formula 1 teams are trying to pick the right tyres. In effect, the spongy, damp conditions underfoot have meant that our customers have always had plenty of grip. And all of of sudden, it's like they're going to be on slicks. The carpets are now stiff and unforgiving, it's suddenly like playing on a really dry cricket wicket, and we're worried that our customers, unused to the speeds they can now achieve, are going to smash straight into tables and other customers.

"Worst of all, we're worried that if the crusty top surface the carpets have developed gives way when cornering at speed, our customers could end up sprawled headlong on the floor. And without the usual spongy, damp texture, they might do themselves some real injuries instead of just laying there, complaining about Jean-Claude Juncker."

Wetherspoons have been experimenting during closure with dampening down the carpets with water or a thin Marmite solution. But nothing appears to give the same traction as spilling a trail of Ruddles Best nearing its best-before date repeatedly over the famously individual floor coverings. It is really hard to simulate the same adhesive effects as accidentally knocking Swedish cider on the floor.

"It's a really worrying time for our customers," Mr Witherspoon concluded. "It's already been a weird experience for them. Trapped in a thing called "the outside world" during the hours of daylight, and instead of the Germans they've had to blame the Chinese for things going wrong. It's a strange and scary world for our customers at the moment, and if they have to learn how to walk on normal carpets without the assistance of our familiar "walking on the moon" experience, we may see some serious casualties."

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Sunday, 17 May 2020

The 5G conspiracy goes Further Than We Imagine

Brothers and Sisters, you must forgive me for putting up this post on a day of Sabbath rest. But let me explain.

Formerly, before the Government inspired lockdown to control us all so they can microchip us with vaccines made from the horcruxes of Bill Gates, I used to go across to the house of the so-called Archdruid Eileen to post my occasional inspirational messages. But since the Government, to further the interests of the capitalist-lizard-illuminati-vortex has decided that we cannot leave our houses or go within 6 feet of any other human being apart from our awfully wedded spouses and other relatives who live in the same house, this is no longer possible.

Since it is clear that the so-called coronavirus is both non-existent, artificially created by the Chinese in association with the FBI, and caused by 5G radio waves and not a virus at all, Marjorie and I have been living under the lead roof of Bogwulf Chapel. This has protected us from the baleful influence of the 5G waves, but has also meant that we have spent the last two months living on a diet of orange squash, bad coffee, and shortbread biscuits. You will note that we eat only of the shortbread biscuit, the plainest and most godly of the biscuits. We have no truck with the luxurious fleshy indulgences of custard creams or the bourbon.

But today we have returned to the Manse. This is not because we have confidence that the dreadful 5G has been switched off. But rather, we have run out of biscuits. And returning to the Manse, I now have access, when Eileen chooses to switch on the network, to the internet.

Brothers and sisters. I had a vision that I need to share with you. It came to me on the evening of the Lord's Day last week when, having drunk of black coffee made with rainwater and indulged in half a packet of hobnobs - our special treat of a Sunday evening, but only of the plain oatmeal. We eat not of the chocolate-chocolate chip - I had a dream.

In my dream I was lifted up to heaven. And I saw that honest people of all beliefs were coming together to protest against the 5G and the imaginary coronavirus which definitely does not exist, but which it causes. To come together in parks all over these islands, and stand nervously shoulder to shoulder and say "no. We will not tolerate your 5G and we do not believe in the coronavirus which it definitely causes and we demand the right to rub noses with Piers Corbyn in greeting."

And I realised, Brothers and Sisters, that these gatherings are themselves a part of the Master Plan for the Enslavement of the World. For in gathering in parks - without buildings to surround them or roofs over their heads - are not these innocent people not putting themselves at maximum risk of exposure to 5G waves from Elon Musk's satellites above their heads? And in using megaphones to protest - as surely as day follows night, a Corbyn in an open space will use a megaphone - do they not know that these are weapons of mass virus dispersion?

Believe me, Brothers and Sisters. When, in three week's time, these brave people are suffering from catching the imaginary coronavirus, it will not be because they have chosen to protest against the lockdown. It will be because, without his even realising it, Piers Corbyn has been spreading non-existent virus to all his followers through his innocent use of a megaphone, even as they have been bathing accidentally in the rays of the 5G radiation - a whole G more damaging than 4G radiation - and thus causing the virus to spread.  And this was all planned by Barack Obama.

We will not cease from our mental strife to make fools of ourselves. Because we are British. It is our birthright.

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