Week Three of Silly Time
Welcome to the
Third Week of “Silly Time”, The six week period between when the gifts of the
prophets were bestowed upon Britain and when the same gifts were poured out
upon the colonies. This is a time of solemn introspection and
reflection on our lives and their direction.
Please
open your Hymnal to page 3 and join in our processional “O Lord
Please Don’t Burn Us” Verse 1
O LORD, please don’t burn us, Don’t grill or
toast your flock,
Don’t put us on the barbecue, Or simmer us in stock,
Don’t braise or bake or boil us, Or stir fry us in a
wok.
Thank you for that zooming rendition it directed my obedient heart as I prowled to the pulpit. Now please open The Holy Text volume 1 to episode20 page 271 where the prophets say …
Cyril: In the
debate a spokesman accused the Government of being silly and doing not at all
good things. The member accepted this in a spirit of healthy criticism, but
denied that he'd ever been naughty with a choirboy. Angry shouts of 'what about
the watermelon, then?' were ordered by the Speaker to be stricken from the
record and put into a brown paper bag in the lavvy. Any further interruptions
would be cut off and distributed amongst the poor. For the Government a Front
Bench Spokesman said the agricultural tariff would have to be raised, and he
fancied a bit. Furthermore, he argued, this would give a large boost to
farmers, and a lot of fun to him, his friend and Miss Moist of Knightsbridge.
From the back benches there were opposition shouts of 'postcards for sale' and
a healthy cry of 'who likes a sailor, then?' from the Minister without
Portfolio. Replying, the Shadow Minister said, he could no longer deny the
rumors but he and the dachshund were very happy; and, in any case, he argued,
rhubarb was cheap and what was the harm in a sauna bath.
7 hours later
The Minister
of Technology met with three Russian Leaders today to discuss a 4 million pound
airliner deal. None of them were indigenous to Australia, carried
their babies in pouches or ate those yummy eucalyptus leaves. Yum,
yum. That’s the news for wombats and now Attila the Bun!
Please open your hymnal to page 4 and join us in singing “The Lumberjack Song verses 2 and 3”.
I cut down
trees, I skip and jump, I
like to press wild flowers
I
put on women's clothing, And hang around in bars
(Repeat with
“he” in place of “I”)
I'm a
lumberjack and I'm OK
I sleep all night, and I work all day (repeat with “he” in place of
“I”)
Now please open The Holy Text volume 2 to episode 45 page
338 where the prophets say …
Attenborough: (slapping the side of a tree) Well
here it is at last ... the goal of our quest. After six months and three days
we've caught up with the legendary walking tree of Dahomey, Quercus Nicholas
Parsonus, resting here for a moment, on its long journey south. It's almost
incredible isn't it, to think that this huge tree has walked over two thousand
miles across this inhospitable terrain to stop here, maybe just to take in
water before the two thousand miles on to Cape Town, where it lives. It's almost
unimaginable, I find - the thought of this mighty tree strolling through
Nigeria, perhaps swaggering a little as it crosses the border into Zaire,
hopping through the tropical rain forests, trying to find a quiet grove where
it could jump around on its own, sprinting up to Zambia for the afternoon, then
nipping back ... (a native whispers in his ear) Oh, super ... well,
I've just been told that this is not in fact the legendary walking tree of
Dahomey, this is one of Africa's many stationary trees, Arborus Barnbet
Gaseoignus. In fact we've just missed the walking tree... it left here at eight
o'clock this morning... was heading off in that direction... so we'll see if we
can go and catch it up. Come on boys.
Homily Parishioners,
an article recently caught my attention, it was from Mother Jones, the
marijuana people. In their story they
claimed that dogs are “environmental villains” ( https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2025/04/bad-news-for-mans-best-friend-dogs-are-environmental-villains/)!
They even went so far as to say that dogs are “multifariously” bad for
the environment. The fact that the “Rope
headed”, hash headed, reefer ravens at Mother Jones managed to work “multifarious”
into a sentence correctly almost took my breath away. So I checked the sources they included in
their story.
Naturally, it
turns out that the Mother Jones article is nothing more than a reprint of a
Guardian article out of Britain (https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2025/apr/10/pet-dogs-have-extensive-and-multifarious-impact-on-environment-new-research-finds).
Right down to the use of “multifarious”, the hemp brigade had simply
semi plagiarized The Guardian, now that made a bit more sense, especially the
proper use of the term “multifarious”!
But this did not answer my original question of what sources were they
using for this outlandish claim. So I
checked The Guardian’s sources.
It turns out that The
Guardian article is based on a single study conducted in Australia published in
an obscure Australian science journal (https://www.publish.csiro.au/PC/PC24071).
But as is the case with obscure articles in obscure journals, the
Australian “study” did not actually do any “science” on their own, they were
instead drawing from other, actual “scientific” studies. So when I dug further I found that all the
actual research originates in an article co-authored by that infamous dog
(especially beagle puppies) hater, Anthony Fauci (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0092867420313866)! So
back in 2020, instead of studying Covid-19, or thinking through the pandemic
plans better, or doing anything useful about the pandemic, Anthony Fauci was
busy publishing a paper that claims dogs are bad for the planet based on their carnivorous
diet! I guess we can all see why the
pandemic response, managed by Fauci, was so haphazard and scatter brained, his
focus was elsewhere!
Amen
Please
join us in our recessional on page 3 of your hymnal “O Lord Please Don’t Burn
Us” second verse.
Oh Please don’t lightly poach us, Or Baste us with hot
fat,
Don’t fricassee or roast us, Or boil us in
a vat,
And please don’t stick thy servants, Lord, In a
Rotissomat.








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