Tuesday, 7 February 2017
The disappearance and presumed death has been announced of Derek Edward Dunnock (1920-2014)
As our photograph clearly shows, Mr Dunnock is not in his usual set in the King's Legs Public House. Looking on are Mr Ted Groper (left) and Mr Arnold Cripes. Said Mr Cripes: "Oh, I knew him - we all did. Never said much, then one day, he just wasn't there."
Mr Groper confirmed this, saying "Aye, that's right - 1961 I think it was. I'd just brought him his hat - he used to suffer from a cold head - and he simply wasn't there."
Our investigation shows that Mr Dunnock led a quiet life, had no siblings, and never married, although local rumour linked him romantically with Elspeth Nudge (Glossop Queen of the May 1954) - and was occasionally employed at Glossop String Works as a knotter.
Local coroner Dr Edith Hugething is on record as saying, "Well, we've looked high and low for the bugger, without success, so I guess he must have bought the farm."
Monday, 30 January 2017
Hullo, Justin here,
Like everyone else in the country, we here at the Palace are trying very hard to keep warm. Why, I myself am wearing long combinations issued years ago to a small group of clerics of which I was a member, which visited the Inuit people well inside the Arctic Circle, to try to persuade them to stop clubbing seals, killing whales and being generally beastly to anything with a pulse. I am also sporting hand knitted half-mittens. My lady wife has produced quite a few of these winter warmers for Palace staff.
Our problem is an elderly central heating system which appears to have given up the ghost. Despite the often expert attentions of Mr Hassan, it simply will not work and we appear presently to be overrun with heating engineers from “Warm’n’Kozy” who keep switching everything off – including the electricity (hence the brevity of this missive) and shouting down hot – air grills, “Anything up your end?”
But before there is another interruption to the power supply, I must just offer a word of support to our Prime Minister, the doughty Mrs May. Recent media reports have made much of her apparently holding hands with President Trump. In fact, my lady wife thought that this was a sure sign of a “special relationship”. I begged to differ. I noted that it was Mr Trump who reached for HER hand, and not vice versa. At that point and under the gaze or the world’s press, Mrs May could hardly have snatched her hand away whilst growling, “Get off! I’ve heard of men like you!” Which, I like to think, is what Jesus might have done .I must go. Two hefty chaps in high-visibility jackets bearing tool-boxes have just arrived at my door.
Monday, 14 November 2016
Dear friends, I must admit that I’ve been a little slow off the mark with regard to the USA’s choosing of a new president. Here at the Palace I have been beset by all manner of opinion. But as the young man with the wire in his ear tells me - notwithstanding some British politicians wanting to ban Mr Trump from U.K. shores, sooner rather than later that will be brushed aside and I will have to meet him. What WOULD Jesus have done?
Whilst I know that Our Lord met quite a few out and out rotters in his time, try as I might, I can find nothing in the Scriptures to help me. On the other hand, staff here at the Palace have been only too willing to offer advice. Even my lady wife has remarked on Mr Trump’s expressive hand movements and became embarrassingly coquettish when mention was made of Mr Trump’s fondness for ladies’ bottoms. The young man with the wire in his ear positively waxed lyrical at the thought of the weaponry probably carried by Mr Trump’s bodyguards.
However, Mr Hassan was far more down to earth and suggested that Mr Trump was little more than a “rich foreign git”. Rich and foreign I understand. “Git” evades me somewhat. I shall pray for guidance.
But I must also offer guidance to the Palace Christmas Arrangements Committee. We are only a little over a month away from that joyous season and whilst as far as Christmas is concerned, I am a self-confessed traditionalist, I do recognize that I must move with the times. However,the local heavy-metal Christian band, “Jesus is Better than Heroin” has offered to open our Christmas service with its latest hit, “ Kick Ciaphas” and I think I must decline. Mr Hassan has offered to arrange a power cut.
What would I do without him ?
Wednesday, 19 October 2016
Justin here... and my apologies for my being away from my Thought for the Day desk recently. Truth be told, I have been involved in not a little Church diplomacy, consulting with my French, Spanish, German and Italian counterparts about Brexit and whether the UK can regard itself as a Christian country after we leave Europe. I did try to point out that Christianity is just ONE form of belief amongst many here, but Monsignor The Reverend Pierre Panique was of the opinion that all the different belief systems tolerated in Europe merely led to unrest. The Italian representative agreed and suggested that I, as head of the most numerous Christian congregation in the UK should declare all inhabitants of these islands Christian. After all, the Spanish bishop said – there is only one God.
You might imagine my shock and disbelief. Even the young man with the wire in his ear sniggered loudly at this point. Up until then he had been content with trying to work out what sort of side – arms were being carried by my contemporaries’ bodyguards. (One Beretta, two Browning Hi-Powers and the inevitable Glock, apparently).
Consequently, upon my return, I was very anxious that details of my Church Brexit discussions did not leak out, considering especially the fact that my Muslim colleagues are awfully keen on the one God thing. What would Jesus have done?
In fact I need not have worried because the Palace was buzzing with ideas about what form our Christmas celebrations should take. I did suggest that it is still only late October. My lady wife actually called me a killjoy and Mr Hassan laughed heartily. I have never been clear as to what his religious beliefs are, so I asked him. He replied that it didn’t matter and that there was only one God anyway and besides, the main thing about Christmas is getting presents and drinking a lot.
I must admit that at this point I left, pleading tiredness and a headache after my international discussions. As I headed up the wooden hill to a steaming mug of Horlicks. I heard the young man with the wire in his ear and Mr Hassan discussing the practicalities of installing a Bethlehem bouncy castle in the Lady Chapel.