The soldiers of Modernism, proclaiming communion for divorced and remarried, mounted their wooden horse, named "Synod," while others pushed the giant wooden beast, crawling with cackling cardinals and bishops into the Holy City. "Heigh Ho, Synod!" cried Cardinal Kasper while the Pope looked on benignly.
The woodland creatures, watching from the Big Hill of the Forest, were dismayed as the prelates leaped off of the horse in their companies, followed by artists and chroniclers to record the coup.
"They're not going to change anything," said the Bear.
"But look, they've been preparing for months! They've gotten inside," cried the Badger.
The Bear just shrugged and ambled away to find something to eat.
Lo and behold, by the end of the Synod, nothing had changed.
"Hoorah!" shouted the Beaver. "You were right! Nothing has been changed! Everything is just as it was before."
The Bear rumphed deeply, and ambled away to find something to eat. That night, he returned to the Big Hill and stared down at the Holy City. There the moonlight revealed, abandoned and unnoticed, the horse. The Bear shook his head and ambled away on his solitary nightly patrol. For the kind woodland creatures were no match for their clever enemies.
Quick commercial for free, no-strings-attached gift of a professionally produced audio book of Judging Angels, Chapter 1: Last Things, read...
The Pope and the Pinch I'll never forget the day I saw the Pope sitting on the toilet. He was in full papal regalia, having a wonde...
I am Timothy Capps, Esq., the attorney and "human agent" for the writer of this blog, St. Corbinian's Bear. It came to my att...
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be n...