The Eighth Week of Extra Ordinary Time

 

Welcome to the Eighth week of Extra Ordinary Time. Year Six

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 to all who carried me to the altar on the litter, I am still working on setting up for my youngest’s grad party and my back is a shambles.  I was not sure I could walk the whole way. 

Please open The Holy Text volume 1 to episode 20 page 269 where the prophets say …

Assistant	Professor! What is it? What have you seen?
Professor	Look - there, in the doorway.
	Cut to doorway: through it is animation of a huge sheep with an eye patch.
Assistant	Urghhh! Arthur X! Leader of the Pennine Gang!
	ANIMATION: perhaps even mixed with stock film - as the fevered mind of Gilliam takes it - sheep armed to the teeth, sheep executing dangerous raids, Basil Cassidy and the Sundance Sheep, sheep with machine gun coming out of its arse etc. At the end of the animation, cut to studio. A narrator sitting in what could be a news set at a desk.
Narrator	But soon the killer sheep began to infect other animals with its startling intelligence. Pussy cats began to arrange mortgages, cocker spaniels began to design supermarkets...

Open your hymnal to page 1 and join us in singing “Do What John?”

Do what John? Come again do what?;  Do what John?,  Do what John?

Do what?,  Do what?;  Do where John?,  Do where John?

Why, what, wiv whom and when?,  Triffic, really triffic!;  Pardon?,  Come again?

Now please open The Holy Text volume 2 to episode 32 page 126 where the prophets say …

Newsreader	The Minister for not listening to people toured Batley today to investigate allegations of victimization in home-loan improvement grants, made last week (photo behind changes to close up of another faceless minister) by the Shadow Minister for judging people at first sight to be marginally worse than they actually are. (photo changes to exterior of the Home Office) At the Home Office, the Minister for inserting himself in between chairs and walls in men's clubs, was at his desk after a short illness. He spent the morning dealing with the Irish situation and later in the day had long discussions with the Minister for running upstairs two at a time, flinging the door open and saying 'Ha, ha! Caught you, Mildred'. (photo of the Houses of Parliament) In the Commons there was another day of heated debate on the third reading of the Trade Practices Bill. Mr Roland Penrose, the Under-Secretary for making deep growling noises grrr, launched a bitter personal attack on the ex-Minister for delving deep into a black satin bag and producing a tube of Euthymol toothpaste. Later in the debate the Junior Minister for being frightened by any kind of farm machinery, challenged the Under-Secretary of State for hiding from Terence Rattigan to produce the current year's trading figures, as supplied by the Department of stealing packets of bandages from the self-service counter at Timothy Whites and selling them again at a considerable profit. Parliament rose at 11:30, and, crawling along a dark passageway into the old rectory (the camera starts to track slowly into the newsreader's face so that it is eventually filling the screen) broke down the door to the serving hatch, painted the spare room and next weekend I think they'll be able to make a start on the boy's bedroom, while Amy and Roger, up in London for a few days, go to see the mysterious Mr Grenville.
	SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'TODAY IN PARLIAMENT HAS NOW BECOME THE CLASSIC SERIAL'
Newsreader	He in turn has been revealed by D'Arcy as something less than an honest man. Sybil feels once again a resurgence of her old affection and she and Balreau return to her little house in Clermont-Ferrand, the kind of two-up, two-down house that most French workers throughout the European Community are living in today.
	SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THE CLASSIC SERIAL HAS NOW BECOME THE TUESDAY DOCUMENTARY'

Homily: Parishioners, Lord Starmer recently received the first taste of hi political come uppance when his party suffered what can only be called a catastrophic defeat in local elections (https://www.zerohedge.com/geopolitical/farages-reform-uk-storms-historic-gains-2026-local-elections-labour-suffers).  To Lord Starmer’s greater chagrin Nigel Farage’sreform party led the victory. 

Naturally Lord Starmer has a plan to rectify things he is launching a preschool campaign to target racism (https://www.zerohedge.com/political/uk-nurseries-urged-report-racist-toddlers-police-ps13m-scheme)!  Because logic knows Lord Starmer has NOT done enough to help the boat people to of England. 

Meanwhile the Labourats of England problems are not restricted to Lord Starmer.  “Sad Diq” the mayor of London has also been working on his case of “foot in mouth” disease.  Most recently he had a most interesting take on people saying that there are problems in London (https://www.zerohedge.com/political/mayor-sadiq-khan-claims-london-devolving-shthole-just-ai-driven-rage-bait).  “Sad Diq” proclaimed that talk of London declining under his administration is just “rage baiting for foreign actors”!  And I guess that means that the grooming gangs he still participates in denies exist are really just “self help groups” for lonely men. 

With such ongoing states of affairs, it is no wonder that Visual Capitalist recently found that where they still exist in Europe monarchs are significantly more popular than the elected politicians (https://www.visualcapitalist.com/cp/europe-monarchs-vs-politicians-popularity/).  The protest industrial complex over here may chant “No Kings”, but where they still exist they may be making a comeback! 

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.