Monday, 29 February 2016

Thought for the Day, with Justin Webly, more or less Arch of Cant

Justin here. A few days ago, my lady wife and I returned to the Palace, with her looking forward to the Six Nations Rugby, whilst I, invigorated by a few days brass-rubbing, fondly anticipate penning the following few thoughts.
First, I must thank the young man with the wire in his ear for standing in during my absence and whilst our writing styles may differ, I am in broad agreement with his thoughts on Europe. In this modern world of wall-to-wall toothpaste adverts and Facebook, this island cannot stand alone as it once did in the dark days of 1940. And I ask myself, what would Jesus have done ? Well, I for one believe that Our Lord would preach forgiveness. He would forgive foreigners for being foreign, driving on the wrong side of the road and refusing to understand even when shouted at. He would even forgive some of the more questionable European sausages. 
But I am heartened in my Christian preaching by the re-emergence after ten long years of refurbishment of The Flying Scotsman, that singularly beautiful Gresley locomotive. I heard it described during television coverage as being “alive” and seeing it hurtling northwards amid clouds of smoke and steam, I think that is most apt. Of course, I have no wish to cast aspersions upon our excellent diesel and electric motive power units, but the romantic in me does wish that they could be as dramatic as The Scotsman when delivering their undoubted tractive efforts.
I am resolved therefore to reinvigorate my preaching style; to appeal to my flock’s sense of drama; to counsel forgiveness certainly, but to do so far more assertively. I might even raise my voice.

As ever,

Pip, Pip,


Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Thought for the Day, with Justin Webly, more or less Arch of Cant

Justin here…
Whilst I remain firmly of the opinion that Church and State should remain separate to look after the secular and spiritual issues facing us, I am more than aware how our ever-increasing communications abilities are blurring hitherto clear divisions. 

Recently I became aware of an extremely rich American person called Donald Trump. Apparently Mr Trump would like to be President of the United States. He has already stated that he would, given the power, ban Muslims from entering the US and, presumably, because he is a Republican, he supports an odious organization called The National Rifle Association, once the favourite club of Charlton Heston – he of the cold dead hand – and star of several Hollywood versions of the nature of God. 

Mr Trump tends to appear in public with a youthful female person who I had assumed was his granddaughter. My lady wife assures me that this person is his wife. The young man with the wire in his ear assured me that this was indeed the case. Initially, I found this quite touching – that such a young woman should want to sacrifice her youth in order to help a far older man to achieve his lofty ambition. Then the young man with the wire in his ear told me that this was not the case and that she was “in it for the money”, which I found profoundly disappointing.

In the unlikely event of Mr Trump becoming President, he will hold sway over things secular and spiritual. Worse than that, young people might even start to copy his hairstyle which appears to stem from an exceptionally low crown beginning at the base of his neck.

Things follicle remind me of the passing of Sir Terry Wogan – the great communicator and champion of toupee wearers everywhere. Sir Terry’s hairpiece really did not matter. Whether sporting it whilst ridiculing Eurovision nit-wits or helping to raise millions for Children in Need, it was simply a perfectly acceptable part of who he was. Oh how I wish there might have been an interview between said Trump person and Sir Terry. A gentle demolition of greedy, narrow-minded pomposity. Sadly though, Mr Trump would not have understood the jokes.

Pip! Pip!