The Chapel of St Laurence Fox

It's been a stressy week. Caused even more by the splinter group of Beaker Folk who have now decided to worship Laurence Fox as a saint.

They wanted his image - pierced, St Sebastian-like, by the arrows of snowflakes - to go up in the side chapel of the Moot House. This was of course an impossible demand. Firstly, there was no way a picture of a naked Laurence Fox with metaphorical snow-arrows piercing his lily-tender skin was going in the Moot House. Secondly, the Moot House doesn't have any side chapels. It's round. It has always been round. Through every incarnation of the Moot House, no matter how many have blown up or been dropped into black holes, the Moot House has always been round. Its roundness shows the democratic nature of the Beaker Folk, with no official end where all the important people sit. We have to have a raised dais with the Archdruidical Throne on it instead.

And there was no way Drayton Parslow would let them put it in St Bogwulf's Chapel. Even St Bogwulf doesn't get a statue in therre with that bunch of iconoclasts.

So they've created the shrine of St Laurence the Martyr in the old potting shed. His statue stands resplendent on a pile of old copies of the Spectator and Telegraph. On his right hand is a representation of Toby Young claiming that it's hard to be posh. To this chapel people go to lament the death of white privilege, and wail that it is impossible these days for a posh white bloke like Toby Young, Laurence Fox, James Dalrimple or Boris Johnson to get their voices heard. 

To the side of the potting shed - I mean shrine - has been erected a lean-to containing a statue of Julia Hartley Brewer. Nobody ever goes in there. I reckon it may mean something, but I don't know what.

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