Hollow Chocolate Bishops

“Within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court.”
-William Shakespeare

Good morning boys and girls,

As we approach Lent, the Toad has been busy emptying the liquor cabinet. Alright, bunky, the Toad is always busy emptying the liquor cabinet, but that’s his business. Capisce? Good.

For some weeks, this old Toad, fueled by several cases of Old Overcoat, has been thinking about the direction of this little corner of dyspepsia. Church parody, particularly satire involving the shenanigans of “continuing” Anglican bodies, has worn thin. I mean, how many pseudo-seminaries can one write about? (Fine, the answer is “more than grains of sand on a beach.” Who are you people? Saint Augustine?)

In fact, these little groups “continue” to be their own best satire. Witness the recent grand ecumenical event to generate, you guessed it Toads and Toadettes, more continuing Anglican bishops. Rawk!*

Yep. For a group called UECNA (we’re not even trying to figure out acronyms anymore) numbering 300 to 600 there are three, count ‘em three new bishops. There was a big whoop in doing this because of the “ecumenical” dimension to the effort. The “consecration” was aided and abetted by the episcopal presence of two other “jurisdictions”-the APCK (est. 2,500 members) and the ACC (est. 3,000 adherents). While it is a bit difficult to for the Toad to figure out, that makes a rough total of about 13 U.S. bishops for maybe about 7,000 people in the ACC, APCK and UECNA. Wow, mater, get me a bowl of alphabet soup! I need something to cut the effect of the Old Overcoat.

When the Toad heard this, he thought it was simply his choice of adult beverages clouding reality like Lamont Cranston on a busy afternoon. But, no, there are actual pictures of this event. Strangely, there’s not much biographical information out there with it—you know, stuff like whether these gents actually saw the inside of a legitimate seminary or other more interesting episcopal tidbits, like how many living spouses there are among the crowd. Hey, at least nobody’s gay like in those other churches, right? What matters is service! And at about one bishop per member, you can bet there’s service aplenty. (Ok, that’s an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

The Toad suspects that there is a conspiracy among vestment makers to keep this stuff going. The rings alone will keep the children of both Duffy and Quinn in grad school for at least two years. And check out the assortment of copes, miters, rochets and chimeres. Gee, boys and girls, the Toad doesn’t want to think about the implications of the theologies behind those rigs.

It’s probably unfair to point at these little groups on the matter of the number of bishops they are putting out, much less what’s under the miters, or zucchettos or, whatever. Nosiree. Recent Anglican fragments have been cranking out the prelates like Mickey Ds does burgers. (“Look ma, it’s the episcopate of all believers. Or is that the priesthood of all bishops.”)

Now the big question is coming. Who gets to be in charge? Perhaps they’ll rotate it on alternate Thursdays. Or, they can put ‘em all in a locked room with a box of straight razors and a bottle of port and see who eventually phones out to Almy for an archbishop’s get-up. Rawk, rawk, rawk.*
Well, now there are more of these guys to bounce around their “pro-cathedrals”, make sovereign proclamations (never mind that authority thing) and “evangelize” by hucking other continuing Anglican parishes. The number of spottily-educated and, worse, unformed clergy will be turned loose to form “parishes” consisting of three old woman and a cat, who eventually will form their own “jurisdictions” and get themselves the miter they have so long deserved, all the while solemnly pronouncing their “catholicity.”

Toads and Toadettes, you heard it here—it’s all miter and no bishop. It’s like getting the big box of liquor-filled candies, and finding no thing inside—not even old overcoat. It’s more like getting a hollow chocolate bishop—the outside bits look real good, but there ain’t much working in terms of innards. At least those of the candy variety give us pleasure in their arrival and sadness when they’re gone, and not the opposite. Rawwwwwwk!*

So, the Toad is going to shift focus. Stop whining, bunky. He’ll still post the occasional nonsense about hollow bishops (chocolate or human), fake seminaries and religious scams. It’s like those potato chips or Old Overcoat, you can’t just have one. But look for a broader selection of craziness to be taken down in these pages. After all, there is so much to bark about, and so little Old Overcoat.

As you gear up for Fat Tuesday, the Toad recommends the Bishop Cocktail. HE particularly likes the fact that it’s decorated with various fruits. C.M. Almy, eat yer heart out. Rawk*

Bishop Cocktail recipe

Scale ingredients to 1 serving

juice of 1/4 lemons
juice of 1/4 oranges
1 tsp powdered sugar
Burgundy wine

Shake juice of lemon, juice of orange, and powdered sugar with ice and strain into a highball glass. Add two ice cubes, fill with burgundy, and stir well. Decorate with various fruits and serve.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,



“Bishop” Roy Aldous Toad,DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil.
Prelate-Holy Catholic Orthodox Anglican Church and Pancake House-Original Jurisdiction (C'mon--you can't prove it's not real!)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Masonic Musings


"But if any of you could put in a word for me I'd love to be a mason. Masonry opens doors. I'd be very quiet, I was a bit on edge just now but if I were a mason I'd sit at the back and not get in anyone's way....I've got a second-hand apron...I nearly got in at Hendon."-John Cleese, "The Architect's Sketch"


Ok, Boys and Girls,

The Toad is back at it. We begin with a little test--no, it's not the one you get from a fake seminary. This one is for free. Today’s quiz relates to Who’s Satanic Now? Our first question comes from Mrs. H. Bristols in Cheapstowe who asks, “Who’s that devilishly hairy fellow running the Church?” Well, Mrs. B., surprise, it’s old Nick himself! (And we don’t mean Jolly Old Saint, either.) It is the hirsute one-Mr. Eyebrows himself. (That's right, bunky, go to a real school and you'll learn words like "hirsute". Rawk.*)

Now it seems like Rowan the Druid, Rowan the Moslem, Rowan the Anything-Goes-But-Christianity, doesn’t like Freemasons. Doesn't want the clergy to learn the secret handshake either. By the side of the average CofE parish these days, Freemasons seem quite innocent. Next thing you know, he'll be telling us that the world is run by a gang comprised of the Illuminati, the Trilateral Commission and the Skull and Bones Society. Ok, the last part is true, but not the Freemasons. They couldn't organize a get-drunk in a brewery.

Oh, yeah, sure they can do those intricate patterns in the little go-carts with 300 pound fez-sporting hefties zooming about, frightening the children. And it is rumored that they can put on a dandy evening of intricate "ceremony" that usually has someone in an apron insulting another similarly clad about how, "this wasn't done in the old days when people knew their ritual." Shades of the Tridentine Mass crowd or at least a fruiting-good, high-church Anglican whoop-de-do with pink gin in the sacristy after. But, Satanic? The bearded clown of Canterbury ought to leave the low-rent, amateur gnostics like the poor Freemasons alone.

The Toad thinks its just too easy. You don't have to be a certain vitriolic, Kiwi, semi-baptist with a spurious D.D. degree to play "spot the demon" with old Rowan. No sireee. This would be the same Archbishop of Canterbury who caused just a wee bit of controversy by praising the Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials - a work that is anti-Christian, at best. A mere bagatelle. This would be the guy who paints himself blue for a little innocent pagan ritual. Oh, yes, he's also the fellow who heads the purportedly Christian denomination with transgendered priestesses. (The Toad notes here that he once owned a '68 Pontiac Lesbitrangay--couldn't keep it going in any one direction.) This would also be the same Rowan Williams who frets over how to accommodate his alleged church to Moslems. When faced with all of this, a spokesman for the Church of England quickly replied, "As far as we are concerned, there is no incompatibility between Christianity and our organisation whatsoever."


But, as the Toad sips his "Masonic Cocktail", he supposes that there must be some responsible thinking on the subject of Masons outside of a Chick Tract or Tony Alamo website. Well, Toads and Toadettes, the predecessor to the Orthodox Church in America has had bad news for the "Craft" since the '50s. It cautions members, especially the pastors, of the incompatibility of membership in the saving Church of Christ and simultaneously membership in Masonic Lodges, which are a mixture of pagan and other religions with certain secret "initiations" as a fixed ritual of the order...." Ooops, that would be "pagan" with a capital "p" that rhymes with "d" and that stands for "damned". And this would differ from "mainstream" Anglicanism how?

but wait, there's more. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, then Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, issued a declaration that the judgment of the Church on Masonry remains unchanged, because the Masonic principles are irreconcilable with the Church's teaching ("earum principia semper iconcilabilia habita sunt cum Ecclesiae doctrina"), and that Catholics who join the Masons are in the state of grave sin and may not receive Holy Communion. Yeow! Stick a fork in you 'cause you are sacramentally done, Mason-boy.



There you have it--two out of three, with the Grand Bard of the Mystic Grove counting as an actual vote in favor of remaining in the "Brotherhood". Better give up that Masonic ring or get a pop up thermometer to tell when you're done. At least it's not Uncle Rowan telling you to lay off the secret handshake. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

As for the Toad, he refrains from any club that would have him as a member, although he is partial to the fez as headwear. So, the Toad plans to start his own "Morgan Affair." (Look it up, pally!) How about this for a ritual that leaves you a mindless...well...Zombie...

- 1 oz Light Rum

- 1 oz Anejo Rum

- 1/4 oz 151 Proof Rum

- 1/2 oz Apricot Brandy

- 1 oz Pineapple Juice

- 1 oz Lime Juice

- 2 oz Orange Juice

- 1 cup Crushed Ice

- 1 tsp Superfine Sugar

- Garnish: cherry, orange slice, mint sprig

All served up in a Cocktail Glass, fez boy. It will put you Plumb straight. And that's on the Square. Raaaawwwwwk!*

Yr. Obed. Serv.,



Right Worshipful Bro. Roy Aldous "Albert Pike" Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)
Mystic Lodge of the Sea, No. 1313
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

FRIENDLESS



“FRIENDLESS, adj. Having no favors to bestow. Destitute of fortune. Addicted to utterance of truth and common sense.”-Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Hello, Boys and Girls,

It's been awhile. I've been away, and the where, what, and why are none of your business. Capisce? Who do you think you are, anyway? Mike Wallace? Well, the Toad's got your sixty minutes...I got it right here, pally.

Needless to say, we've been rusticating someplace warm, lamenting the fact that satire brings us no friends at all. Only the little guy in the white monkey jacket by the pool who keeps bringing those drinks with the little umbrellas in them. Well, the Toad was happily sucking down Caipirinhas and other tropical cocktails made with un-aged cachaça (for you untutored grads of mail-order academe, that's fresh sugarcane juice that's fermented and distilled), when my agent called and reminded me that if I didn't satirize something soon, I'd lose the extensive royalties I get from this column. That and the only addiction stronger than cachaça--utterance of truth and common sense--brought me back to the upper southern midwest faster than fake clergyman to an offering plate.

Egads, toads and toadettes, in my absence fake seminaries have grown like mushrooms, there are at least 40 or 50 new "catholic" denominations, not to mention an assortment of other wing nuts, and the "mainstream" has not diasppointed. Nosiree! Just look here.

The Church of England will tomorrow officially apologize to Charles Darwin for "misunderstanding" his theory of evolution. In what has been called a "bizarre step" (and aren't t hey all of late), the good ol' CofE will address its contrition directly to the Victorian scientist himself, even though he died 126 years ago. The move was greeted with derision last night, even before the Toad could put electronic ink on the page. Darwin’s great-great-grandson dismissed it as "pointless" and other critics branding it "ludicrous". Rawk, rawk, rawk!* What an understatement, boys and girls.

But, wait, there's more. Terry Sanderson, president of the National Secular Association,-that's the National Secular Association-said: ‘It does seem rather crazy for an institution to address an apology to an individual so long after his death. ‘As well as being much too late, the message strikes me as insincere, as if there is an unspoken “but” behind the text.

Yes, boys and girls, there is an unspoken "butt" behind the text--the bespectacled, bearded pagan who is the trainmaster at Crazytown Station--Rowan "Mr. Muddle" Williams. It's all about being nice, though, isn't it? Just like the imposition of Sharia Law is "inevitable" in Britain. That's going to cut into the Toad's travel plans.

Of course, "a less critical tone was struck by Horace Barlow, 87, from Cambridge, who is Darwin’s great-grandson." Grand old Horace thought it would be spiffing for his ancestor "to hear the Church’s apology." (Let's be clear, here--the "Church" being the CofE, not to be confused with a Christian denomination.) "They buried him in Westminster Abbey," said Mr. Barlow, "which I suppose was an apology of sorts." Here's the clincher from Monkey boy's progeny: "‘Darwin was very concerned about offending other people as his wife Emma was a committed Christian..." As to Darwin's commitments, Horace-baby doesn't say. bunky.

It's this kind of narcissistic crapola that has revived, enlivened, and even emboldened the Toad. That and the drink pronounced 'KIE-PUR-REEN-YAH', popular among international crowds as on Copacabana Beach. Traditional caipirinha (and, by heaven, the Toad is "traditional") is made with cachaça, sugar, and crushed limes, served over ice. It is always muddled (not like Uncle Rowan, but crushed with a masher or the blunt end of a wooden spoon). Boys and girls, make sure to muddle in a shaker or a sturdy, non-breakable glass. You can also try replacing lime with about 1/2 cup of fresh tangerine, star fruit, passion fruit, peach, pear, pineapple, plum, orange, mango, grape, guava, figs, etc.Caipirissima is a cocktail like caipirinha, mixed with rum instead of cachaça. If mixed with sake instead of cachaça, the drink is called caipisake--although, haven't we had entirely too much of that sort of thing. I think a number of Caipisake C-100s sank the USS Lexington--or at least it provides the Toad's new ground transportation. Check it out and don't get in the way.



So, there we are. Friendless. Truthtelling and common sense-advocating. But, you know, I gotta' bike and a pitcher of Caipirinhas (pronounced "KIE-PUR-REEN-YAHS"). And you don't.

As for the the Toad? Well, he's as hot among international crowds as he is on Copacabana Beach.

So we're back. Pokin', jabbin', low blow hittin' and always, always takin' time out to savage a fraud, fake, poseur, mail-order clergyman, the "school" that trained him and the "bishop" that ordained him. We also aren't beneath taking a shot or three at the silliness of the "mainstream" church. So, be advised, be warned and be very afraid. The Toad is back, and he is satirized for your protection.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

Roy Aldous "Capisake" Toad,
DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)
Guest Degree: DD Laud Hall (C'mon--you can't prove it's not real!)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

But Where Are the Pancakes?
"We're playing to our authenticity ... We're building from the ground up, and we're transmitting to the world something that nobody else can recreate."
-Anyonymous, About Zydeco at the Grammys

Good morning, Toads and Toadettes,

Your truly, Dr. Roy Aldous Toad, has been taking a little time off of late. However, some things just really goad the Toad, and even winter hibernation (ok, snocking a few on the poop deck of the S.S. Toad in sunnier climes) can't keep him from jacking up a fraud. In this case, it is a fraudulent "Zydeco Mass" perpetrated by...you guessed it...the Episcopal Church.

Here's how they did it at St. Paul's Cathedral in San Diego: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGLpmSZBemY

Just a little rum and sacrilege for Shrove Tuesday. The knave...oops...nave altar is the least of their worries. Puts a new spin on the giving of the peace, eh, bunky? Rawk, rawk, rawk!


Yr. Obed. Serv.,


Roy Aldous "Zydeco" Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Make a Deal with the Devil

“The Blues IS Life.”
-Brownie Mc Ghee

Happy New Year, Toads and Toadettes,

Out in the frozen upper southern Midwest, the toad pond is…well…frozen. What did you expect, bunky? Central heat in a pond? Heated “water features” are only available to seminary patrons in California. The rest of us have to make do with Velicoff® vodka (available in stylish 1.5 liter jugs) and episodes of “Real Desperate Housewives” to stay warm. No trickle down at this level of the ecclesiastical food chain, boys and girls. The cheery warming glow of the Grey Goose effect is confined to the Olympian reaches of the church where the mystique of the episcopacy remains very well-preserved. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

So at the outset of a bright new year, the Toad is lounging about in his smoking jacket, a chilled glass of Velicoff® with a twist of lemming in hand, pondering the target list for the year upcoming, and we have to say that the field is a rich one indeed. Fraudsters, fakers, fools and outright felons are in abundance, and the ordinary buffoonery of presumptuous prelates already has the Hubrisometer (pat. pending) redlined.

But, it’s still Christmas, and what passes for charity in the Toad has not yet subsided, so the flame still is burning on low, largely fueled by Velicoff®. (How do they make a profit on this stuff $7.99 a gallon?) And, the Toad, himself, is not unaffected by the downward emotions that follow on the holidays. After a vigorous New Years round of Bite the Head Off the Bishop (a little divertissement we’ll address in another column), and a little more Velicoff® brand vodka, the Toad got out his blues collection and cranked up the Victrola for the annual end-of-year depression fest.

Following 24-hours of high-volume blues-musing and several visits from the local constabulary and an amphibious film crew from COPS, the Toad began to write a script for the ultimate blues movie. That is until he found out there already is one. The Crossroads…a proposed animated blues film based on the legend that Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil to become a great blues musician. The struggle of the movie revolves around the lucky mojo above and the soul of a man. Lucky mojo! Wow, that’s even better than Velicoff® in the economical demi-tanker size!

Here’s the plot, boys and girls. Two up and coming blues bands meet at the International Blues Challenge in Memphis (which is sort of near St. Louis) to compete for the best blues band award. It turns out the bands know, and can't stand, one another. They performed a few times at blues festivals and got into fights, and by chance they both wind up at the Memphis contest and decide to settle the score.

Before you know it, the bands are spying on each other and eavesdropping on conversations…and then they both overhear something that sets their souls on fire... two old bluesmen get into a hell of an argument whether or not Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil... they're both stone drunk and start yelling at each other, “Did So! - Did Not! - Did So! - Did Not!...”
The Toad was devastated. A great plot, the blues, fighting among the bands playing the same music, the devil all wrapped up in an animated format. And the Toad thought he was the only cartoon character hereabout! Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Lubricated with ample quantities of Velicoff® (Toads tend to dry out at this time of year) and after a hearty meal of Cheeze Whiz® and Saltines® (you were expecting flies?), the Toad sat down to pen his own version of the best blues movie ever done, replete with cartoon characters, or, at least vagante clergy and purported seminary deans.

Here’s the new plot, boys and girls. Our scene opens in St. Louis, a bastion of the blues and home of W.C. Handy, Louis Armstrong, Bessie Smith…well, you get the picture.
A whole bunch of Episcopalians be suffering from the Dipping Women Torn Up Ol’ Prayerbook Blues. They are bluer than blue, ‘cept maybe the hair on a bunch of them. There on the banks of the Big River, weighed down with woe, they start the Original, Original Province St. Louis Blues Band Contest. It’s dedicated to playing the old tunes, the real tunes, the familiar tunes, and there’s only supposed to be one band.

But, that ain’t the way of the blues, and it sho’ ‘nuff ain’t the way of the St. Louis Blues. Sorry, the Toad slipped into Blues vernacular. Like Blues authority, DJ Kool Karl says, “You don't have to write Blues songs in Ebonics, but it helps.” It must have been the Velicoff® talking—that and the Blues.

So, here we, go. We done got a big crowd full of the little "b" blues out on old St. Louis (they'd never use a big "B"), and they want one band to fire up playing their favorite tunes, and they set up a bunch of band leaders: James, Dale and Robert. What kind of blues names are those? Blues names for men are Joe, Willie, Joe-Willie, Little Willie, Big Willie, Blind Willie, Blind Joe, Muddy, and Leroy. James, Dale and Robert can’t sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

I mean if you want to sing the blues you need a good Blues singer’s name. First take the name of a physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame) Then add the name of a fruit (not that kind of fruit real fruit-Lemon, Melon, Cherry). Then tack on the last name of a President (Johnson, Jefferson, and the like). You can even use an ecclesiastical title, preferably Deacon or Bishop (see, e.g. Elvin Bishop). Blind Deacon Washington, or Leroy “Little Bishop” Jefferson are kickin’ blues names. You can gather ‘round names like that.

Then there were audience problems. While St. Louis has always been one of the best Blues cities in the world, these were just not people with a right to sing the Blues. “Who, Toad,” you may ask, “does have the right to sing the Blues?”

According to DJ Kool Karl, soon to be named an archdeacon and dean of the East St. Louis Catholic Orthodox Anglican Seminary and Embalming School (Original Province) says, you can sing the blues if: You older than dirt, You blind, You "shot a man in Memphis", You "can't get no satisfaction", You a "Back Door Man", You named your guitar after your ex-wife who left you for your best friend. (Ok, many in the audience fit the bill.) But you can’t if, You have all your teeth, You "once was blind but now can see", The man in Memphis lived, You have a 401K or trust fund, or you “amicably left your wife for another man having discovered your true sexuality”. Heck, you can’t sing the blues if you left anyone and a razor was not involved.

Even worse, there were few Blues-appropriate beverages like Ripple, Rye Whiskey or Bourbon, Muddy Water, nasty black coffee, Old Style beer or Velicoff® vodka in the 1.5 liter size. You ain’t gonna’ make it drinking Perrier, chardonnay, Grey Goose Vodka, “The Glenlivet” or anything with “glen” in it, Bombay gin, or any kind of imported beer.

They even had the wrong transportation. Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Blues cars are Chevys, Fords, Cadillacs and broken down pickup trucks. Jet aircraft and company cars ain't even in the running. Blues don't travel in BMW’s, Mercedes or Sport Utility Vehicles. This was not looking good.

But, maybe it was the place that overcame the Blues odds. Pretty soon the one band was three or four, and then twenty, and then…well…there’s a new one in every garage. And the big three or four bands, well they began to talk about just who had made that deal with the devil, and who might be a “backdoor man”. Yeah, they make it to a few blues festivals (they play St. Louis a couple of times, some burg called Bartonville, Deerfield Beach for the spring break crowd, and a small venue called Fond du Lac), but they always be gettin’ in fights. And drink? They proved that if you just drink enough chardonnay, Grey Goose Vodka, anything with “glen” in it, or Bombay gin you can have chops like Blind Lemon Jefferson.

Trouble was, these self-proclaimed bluesmen never really got the Blues themselves. They sang something that sounded like them, but the audience only came away with the little “b” blues. Maybe it was the clothes. No one will believe it’s the real Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old ethnic person and you slept in it... for two weeks...in a Greyhound Bus station. The best clothes for the blues is torn overalls, or a prison uniform, and, of course you should be wearing a cool Blues hat. But these guys dressed for the show in coordinated natty purple shirts, and purple gloves and purple socks and lots and lots of lace. Either there was pimpin’ going on, they actually were the Rondelles or they was the “other woman” somebody shot in Memphis. Maybe it was all three. Something in the script just wasn’t right.

But, then more traditional Blues patterns emerged. There was lyin’, cheatin’, adultery, stealin’, fightin’, fakin’, posin’, adultery, guns, liquor, cursin’, prison and, of course, adultery. Man, it’s like that song Aretha sings, “Who's zoomin' who, take another look, tell me baby…Who's zoomin who...oh…”

But, in the end, it resonates with The ViceBishops’ (yes, that’s their name) tune, “the party's over And the guests are gone You know it's time to be movin' on.” After all, the real Blues is the thing. Fake Blues on an air guitar don’t float the boat. And, the audience is flat tired of hearing who made a deal with the devil.

Sorry, boys and girls, it’s just the Velicoff® talking.

So the Toad will close this New Year’s reverie with B.B. King’s Actions Speak Louder Than Words. It pretty well sums up the state of things Blues-wise, authority-wise and just plain people-wise. Ponder the lyrics.

And, if you don’t know of B.B. King, bunky, you should immediately: tear up your application to on-line seminary, drink a 1.5 liter bottle of Velicoff® brand vodka wrapped in a paper bag, sleep in a black suit for the next two weeks, and move to St. Louis. You’ll thank the Toad…really. Happy New Year, pally. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

Roy Aldous Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)

Bluesman Extraordinaire

*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Actions Speak Louder Than Words-B.B. King

You won't listen to nothing I tell you, baby
You keep on doing just as you please
Hey, you won't do nothing I tell you, baby
Keep on doing as you please
I've taken as long as I can, baby
When is this foolishness gonna cease

I've worried myself crazy, baby
Cried both night and day
I said I've worried myself crazy, baby
Cried both night and day
You don't believe me, baby
But I'm gonna leave one of these days

Well, you told me that you love me
But actions speak louder than words
Oh, you said you love me, baby
But action speaks louder than words
I won't be fooled no longer, baby
That line everybody's heard

Well, If you're gonna change, baby
You better do it real soon
Hey, If you're gonna change
For the better, baby
You better do it real soon
Because you'll wake up one of these mornings
Find yourself in a empty room.

We're Back! Where are the presents?

(at left, Dr. Toad and staff member at office party, Christmas 2007)

Christmas is a time when everybody wants his past forgotten and his present remembered. What I don't like about office Christmas parties is looking for a job the next day.-Phyllis Diller

Good Morning, Toads and Toadettes,

After a bit of time off, all of it well deserved, pally, we are back and barking. As we approach the Nativity, the Toad is pondering Christmas presents--for him. And so it is that our good friends over at Ship of Fools give us the Twelve Days of Kitschmas which you can find here:

http://shipoffools.com/kitschmas/index.html

These are billed as "twelve righteous and deserving products, plus a special item for the 13th day" of Christmas. The Toad is deeply torn among the St. Sebastian Pincushion (ouch!), the 512 Mb. Maria Memory Stick ("Oh, Blessed Maria, keep my data safe."), or the "Coffin Glamour Calendar".
Yes, here it is, boys and girls, "the frankly sexy Padre Pio casket, hand-crafted in Italian oak with a fully adjustable interior lovingly tailored in crepe. It's a shame that a model accidentally wandered onto the set and got in the way of seeing this baby in all its glory." As Ship of Fools urges, this Christmas "Think outside the box! Order your copy of the Coffin Glamour Calendar for your church vestry." It's just 9.30 Euros. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Other contenders include the Pope's Cologne, Holy Toast, and a Hip Flask Bible. They were thinking of a matching Hip Flask Book of Common Prayer, but they couldn't decide between the 1662 and the 1928. So you'll just have to rely on the usual your trusty Cane Flask and Pocket Flask to see you through that Christmas Vigil and first Mass of Christmas. After all, we do like to stick with traditional liturgical appointments. Rawk!* The folks at the Prayer Book Society will have it sorted out by next Christmas, or at least a Study Committee appointed to prepare a report to begin to explore the issue. (This, of course, will be made available on their website for a mere 8.40 Euros.)

The Toad supposes that this is all more harmless than buying your loved one a fake seminary education and the Bishop's Quality Vestment Assortment (light-up crozier not includes) this Christmas. (244 Euros + VAT). The Toad supposes that other gift possibilities (for him, not you), would include the Footballing Jesus Figure (just $20 plus postage), Armor of God PJs (only $39.95 plus shipping), or the non-stick coating, Jesus Pan ("puts the image of Jesus RIGHT ON FOOD!"). Yeow!

The Toad, though, who has quite enough swag, has decided that the most appropriate gifts (for him, not you, ok?) are comestibles. Specifically, a case of William Wilberforce Freedom Ale from Westerham Brewing in the UK ("Amazing taste! How sweet the round...") or God's Wallop Christmas Brew would be nice. Or how about some He'Brew "the chosen beer"("This Chanukah, candles won't be the only thing getting lit!")? You can visit the sites here http://www.westerhambrewery.co.uk/ and here http://www.shmaltz.com/

And, there you are. You have some truly great Christmas gifts to send to me, Dr. Roy Aldous Toad. Now, it's back to the office party where this year's holiday theme is "A Smile, A Song, A Lawsuit". After sufficient quantities of He'Brew brand Genesis Ale from the fine people at Schmaltz Brewing Company, we'll be back. We have a few things to bark about before the end of the year as well as our donation checks to certain seminaries, and we want to be in the true spirit of Christmas for the effort.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,


Roy Aldous Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

What’s In a Name?

"What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."
-Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Good evening, Toads and Toadettes,

How do you spell hubris? Ok-for those who have had a bit too much Grey Goose® vodka (the Toad likes his with a twist of lemming), the word means, according to its modern usage, exaggerated self pride or self-confidence. It is an overbearing pride, often resulting in fatal retribution. Well, that would fit the Toad to a T. But how about the “former” Archbishop of a certain continuing jurisdiction? He’s retired. Really. He's not running things anymore. Right. Pay no attention to the man in front of the library. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

So, it was with no trepidation (ain’t defining that for you) at all, that the Toad heard about a little building program going on. At a seminary. At a seminary in a continuing church jurisdiction about which it’s “dean” boasted that other major seminaries have weighed in-it's national material. Whooooo! Chum on the water! (Ok, for the Toad it’s more like “flies in the air”, but it just doesn’t ring right style-wise capisce?)

Some informed reader anonymously mailed the Toad a suave brochure entitled “St. Joseph of Arimathea Library.” As a fundraiser, it was very slick—lots and lots of money slick, with a proposed look of the biblioteque on the front, a floorplan in the interior, and, so help me, an “axonometric view” on the back. Yeow! The presentation’s gotta’ cost a bundle, and, given the stiffing this particular jurisdiction has given to its clergy, you’d better hope that the mailing is a donation. Otherwise, might be some ‘splainin’ to do. Ooops…sorry, it was done by the wholly- unrelated “St. Joseph of Arimathea Foundation”, which is completely unconnected to, oh, say, the Anglican Province of Christ the King. That would be the ever-decreasing body of oh, say, 1,800 folks is not mentioned anywhere in the brochure, at least in the copy sent to the Toad.. Get that, donors? Not anywhere.

Never mind that the website of that very same body counts this as “the seminary of the Anglican Province of Christ the King, a nationwide body of Christian Churches dedicated to maintaining traditional Episcopalian faith and practice in the United States.” Boy, the Toad could go a whole lot of places with that name "Episcopalian" (note the capital letter, rawk, rawk, rawk!*) And he will. Later. But, let’s turn to the moment to the front graphic of this little flyer. The crack technical staff at the Barking Toad has scanned it for your delectation.

What venerable, white-haired figure do you see in the foreground with hand extended Moses-like? Could it be the “retired” archbishop of the APCK? Say it isn’t so! No one could be possessed of that much hubris. It must be a cleverly-generated computer homunculus of some white-maned, gent in clerics standing outside of a non-existent building in Berkeley, California in which his office is located. Sure looks like a certain past-prelate. And we really like the limo in the foreground. Mercedes? Of course, always go top shelf, bunky!

But now to the meat of the reinvention of this seminary, now being subtly pushed as an adjunct to the University of California (fraudulizer® alert!). The priest who passed this to the Toad once was a contributor to this seminary--gave real jack to it and hucked his people to do the same. He has a number of good buddies in black who got out of it intact, with a pretty good education. (Many didn’t stay in one piece, but, that is a for another time, boys and girls. Wait for it.) It was supposed to be a two-year S.T.B. (not STD-that would be another problem) program to support a traditional Anglican Church. Non-accredited-ok, we’ll spot that-but residential and with a chapel and a real faculty. Oops, boys and girls! Guess the windows weren't closed against that rarified Berkeley air.

Lots of men started rolling through on the “battlefield commission” standard. You know, show up two weeks and be a priest. Different from St. Table Tops’ how? Oh, yeah, you get to drink in the "mystique of the episcopacy for two weeks".

Formation? Naw. Verification of ability? Naw. Green card? Not necessarily (at least says the palooka who sent this to the Toad.)

What we’ve got is a collapsing continuing church that’s trying to reinvent itself as a seminary and “campus ministry”-that would be the rowing team at old U.C., noted for their devotion to…well…something. Don’t look too closely out there at foundations or ownership or management stuff.

The Toad, who has been accused of going too light on “mainstream” continuers whoever they are, was challenged to confront this. Well, over some dry gin and moist towlettes we confronted the rest of the solicitation and faced the inevitable image: Tim and Tammy Bakker. By what name do you call hubris? Let’s pick a few.

You can have “Naming Opportunities” for this pile of rubble in Berkeley (Native--American for “Pay Too Much For Living With Godless Dopeheads”). Here are a few from the flier:

Solarium/reading Room $200,000
(that’s a lot of sun)
Kitchen $150,000
(hope there’s a ‘wave)
Courtyard $200,000
(we don’t have to build anything)
Water Feature $ 40,000
(Toad don’t wanna’ know)
Bookcase $ 20,000
(Ikea? Heard of it?)

The bottom line is an ambitious program for a continuing church that couldn’t even raise matching funds to meet a most generous matching grant to build parishes--er, build parishes..Great Commission...anyone out there? All of this comes a at a time when some in that “jurisdiction” came to their senses and sought to get away from a cult of personality. (Look at the figure in the picture. Can anyone say “Lenin’s Tomb”?)

So here it is, boys and girls. A once noble effort, admittedly with some fine graduates, abandons its roots to become a “seminary” and “student ministry” with no mention of “continuing Anglicanism” or even “Episcopalianism”. It’s trying to raise swag at $20k a bookcase for an operation that has how many full time students? And the Toad just knows that the big gun donors will be lining up…as long as they are off their medication.

Below-Not a Seminary (yet)

By all reports, the big cheese in this is a student of Russian history. Toad ain’t no ecclesiastic, but he is a political sort in the pond. Lessee’…Lenin, and later Stalin, gulls Western investors into plunking money into the Potemkin village of Russia. (GM, Armand Hammer…anyone listening?). Money is used for whatever purpose the leader deems. (How much is left over on a $20k bookcase?)

Peasants, kulaks, middle class and personal friends are killed off or exiled.

So, here it is. The second part of the name hubris-the older sense. In Ancient Greece, “hubris” referred to actions taken in order to shame the victim, thereby making oneself seem superior. Check out the guy in the courtyard in that first picture. He’s never done that. Or anyone on his board.

Boys and girls, hubris was a crime in classical Athens. It was considered the greatest sin of the ancient Greek world. The category of acts constituting hubris for the ancient Greeks apparently broadened from the original specific reference to molestation of a corpse (God knows, we don't want to molest or annoy our jurisdiction), or a humiliation of a defeated foe, to molestation, or “outrageous treatment,” in general. Let’s check the tally from the Continuum site: Edwards, Novak, Nalls, Hart. The Toad knows of more. But, what more do we need?

What’s in a name? The name is well...you know who he is...and it ain't Moses. And you can add your name to the mausoleum in the hope that amid the whited sepulcher, a few more good men are raised up. The Toad bets you can even have dinner at the Faculty Club.

When you are done, the Toad wants to put up a seminary close to home. Ann Arbor’s relaxed marijuana laws make it a great place for fund raising. A little of the old incense and the donors will name a hash pipe “Vince” for ten grand and not remember in the morning. At least they don’t want to remember. Rawwwwwwk!*

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

Roy Aldous Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

GLORY, LAUD AND HONOR

“Behold, I am become a reproach to thy holy name, by serving any ambition and the sins of others; which though I did by the persuasion of other men, yet my own conscience did cheek and upbraid me in it."
-William Laud

Good evening, Toads and Toadettes,

The Toad is working on a double-header tonight. He received the e-mail below from astute reader Dr. Jonathan E. Larkin via the Toad’s Latvian ISP (their motto “servers for those who just don’t want to be found”). Dr. Larkin identifies himself as an “Adjunct Professor TLCGSM” at http://www.tlcgsm.com/ The link leads to a the site of “Trinity Learning Community Schools of Ministry”, “a non-profit educational institution located in Southern California that can help you find your place in the Bigger Story of God.” Whoa, there’s a big claim!

Apart from helping you know your place, TLCGSM, which appears to be attached to three “Vineyard” churches, offers a Bachelor of Christian Studies and a Master of Ministry through its website. A decidedly Protestant, evangelical operation, this seminary has more letters in its name than the average continuing church. It does, though, have a tie to St. Stephens University which is chartered by the Canadian province of New Brunswick to grant Bachelor's and Master's degrees. These guys actually appear to require some time on a real campus, and not just sitting round the big table at Ho-Jo’s on Clam Night. One problem: their faculty list doesn’t seem to include Dr. Larkin. Perhaps an oversight. Rawk!*

So, it goes, boys and girls. But Dr. Larkin does provide a defense of sorts (reprinted in its entirety below) for Laud Hall Seminary, the seminary of the United Anglican Church. Dr. Larkin identifies “Laud Hall as…simply a distance learning program that offers various degrees.” He goes on to note that Old Laud “is authorised by the State of Florida to grant their degrees, as you are probably aware State Licensing is the what makes a degree legally valid or not and in most states operating a school which grants degrees without state licensing is a criminal offense. State Licensing is also the prerequisite to becoming accredited, now Laud Hall it is not federally or regionally accredited which it emphasizes on the their web page but is allowed to grant degrees based on their State Authorization.”

Say who, say what? Ok—it ain’t accredited regionally or by the feds. The website of Old Laud actually admits that. And the Toad hates to differ, but state licensing does not “make a degree valid”. State licensing is just that-a ticket to do business in a state. (Oh, yeah-get over the British spellings, gang, they irritate the Toad’s spell check when he uses it.)
Ahhhh, but Old Laud’s “programs and degrees are theological and ministerial, not secular and academic. We wish to train ministers of the Gospel, which is our primary mission and task.” Very laudable. Just don’t try trading on that degree outside of your…well…denomination...sect….whatever…

Beyond a laudacious website, there’s not much on this one, gang. However, almost all of the warning lights on the “Seminary Fraudulizer” are blinking like Britney Spears in a cop’s flashlight. Rawk, rawk!

So, the Toad printed out the Laud Hall catalogue for a little perusal after reading this month’s issue of Amphibian Today. Let’s check ‘em off, boys and girls.

--Degrees can be purchased. (Seminarian to priest in five easy payments)-No proof of this here.

--There is a claim of accreditation when there is no evidence of this status.-At least these guys don’t make this claim or make a claim of accreditation from a questionable accrediting organization like, oh, say, the Confederazione Nazionale delle Università Popolari Italiane (CNUPI).

--The operation lacks state or federal licensure or authority to operate.-They laudably admit that.

--There is little if any attendance required of students, either online or in class. (Our school motto: “You never have to show up”.)—Well, they are, after all, a correspondence school.

--Few assignments required for students to earn credits.-No evidence either way here. Perhaps we can hear from an alum or two on the comments page.

--There is a very short period of time required to earn a degree. (“Our one-week M.Div. program allows for post office delays with your check.”)-Again, any of you Old Laud matriculators want to step up and be counted?

--Degrees are available based solely on experience or resume review. (“Siding salesman? You can have an S.T.L. in spirituality!”)-To their credit, no evidence of that.

--There are few requirements for graduation.-Well, they do have the catalogue…
--The operation fails to provide any information about a campus or business location or address and rely, e.g., only on a post office box?-There is an “Administrative Office” located at 1702 McKinley St., #9 Hollywood, FL 33020. Of course, as the website notes, Laud’s got legs, and has moved about a few times—even across state lines! Whoops!
--The operation fails to provide a list of its faculty and their qualifications.- Old Laud advertises, “Well qualified Faculty and Staff”. Other than the dean, there’s nary a prof in sight, much less a c.v.
--The operation makes claims in its publications for which there is no evidence.- Well, now, doesn’t this fit even a number of accredited institutions!

On the whole, toads and toadettes, there doesn’t seem to be much there, there. There’s the customary impressive big list o’courses, but the big board says that this one is another paper tiger.

Of course, the Barking Toad would love to hear from alums, faculty, neighbors with photos of the annual graduation barbecue, and such like. If they meet the Toad’s threshold (which is quite low), they’ll even get posted.

Meanwhile, the Toad is off for a little laudanum! (And maybe some blue vitriol Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Yr. Obed Serv.,
Roy Aldous Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States University)

*The sound of one hyper-educated Toad barking

The Letter (Reprinted Without Change)

Hi Dr Toad,

I saw you list of seminaries, particularly Laud Hall Seminary.Laud Hall Seminary is the Seminary for the United Anglican Church which part of the continuing Anglican movement, as you are probably well aware the continuing Anglican Movement is rather fragmented and changes depending on splits and union etc. Laud Hall as it exists today is a simply a distance learning program that offers various degrees.

It is authorised by the State of Florida to grant their degrees,as you are probably aware State Licensing is the what makes a degree legally valid or not and in most states operating a school which grants degrees without state licensing is a criminal offense. State Licensing is also the prerequisite to becoming accredited, now Laud Hall it is not federally or regionally accredited which it emphasizes on the their web page but is allowed to grant degrees based on their State Authorization. There degree's are typically, three years for the MDiv or MTh with a prerequisite of Bachelors Degree or their own Licentiate program. There Doctoral program is generally 3-5 years with the appropriate prerequisites of an undergraduate qualification and a Masters Degree.

Below is a history of the Seminary

Laud Hall Seminary was chartered in 1962 to serve the Anglican Church as a vehicle for training Clergy and Laity. In the 1980s it was transferred to Texas in the Diocese of the Southwest of the Anglican Episcopal Church of North America. It was moved to Florida when the former President of the Seminary placed it under the direction of the Traditional Episcopal Church. In 1996, the Seminary was restructured, a Board of Regents was added, the schools and Faculty were expanded and the curriculum was completely revised, with the specific purpose of bringing the school into the 21st Century, placing it online, and making it a full degree-granting institution. This move was accomplished in early 1998 when all the final documents were signed and the State of Florida authorization was conferred. Following the union of the Traditional Episcopal Church with the Anglo-Catholic Church in the Americas, the Seminary came under the jurisdiction of the United Anglican Church in 2001.

I hope that this is of some use,

Regards,

Jonthan E Larkin

Dr Jonathan E Larkin

Adjunct Professor TLCGSM

http://www.tlcgsm.com/

Mother Lode for the Toad

Good evening, Toads and Toadettes,

The Toad has finally done it. No more will you have to shell out real dollars for fake degrees. You are free from having to deal with tabletop seminaries and having to suck up to specious scholastics. You won't have to wonder whether that suspect sheepsin will surface after you've hit the PayPal button for the St. Doenitz Seminart of the Holy Catholic and Apostolic Anglican Celtic Church of North America (Original Province). Nosiree, bunky!

Now you can go right to the source and get the whole magilla-diploma, transcript and letter of recommendation. The basic can be had right off the net, and the deluxe (and everyone wants the deluxe, right, boys and girls?) for a low, low price. How low, you ask? Well, let's look at the adert for Magic Mill at http://www.boxfreeconcepts.com/download/index.html:

Introducing the breakthrough concept in personal documents management!
Download 100% customizable templates and create impressive, precise credentials on your own PC! Fake Transcript Template*
Create perfect "transcripts"! Our off-line version of the Magic Mill fake transcript does it all:
• Easy to use-- opens in Microsoft Word
• 100% customizable-- change any words, numbers
• Makes both Bachelor's and Master's transcripts
• Prints on blank, "OFFICIAL" or "COPY" background
• Available immediately, just download
Transcript Template $6.00
Combo Deal-- get transcript template and diploma template for $8.00

But, wait, boys and girls, there's more!
Fake Diploma Template*

Create fantastic looking "diplomas" (view):
• You dream it up-- any fake universities, grad schools or degrees
• Enhanced version of our diploma for liberal arts colleges with the same great graphics
• Couldn't be easier-- open in Microsoft Word, type information and print
• Available immediately, just download
ALL PURCHASES ARE NONREFUNDABLE

The Diploma Template is $5.00 or you can get the "Combo Deal"- a transcript template and diploma template for $8.00. Want even more realism? Consider the Super Diploma Template!

But, why stop there? You can get other fake diploma templates:
Want diplomas for two year Associate Degrees?
Looking for high school diplomas, not college?
Undergraduate (Bachelor and Associate) or Graduate (Master and Doctor)?
Get 'em all at Magic Mill!

Don't have MS Word? Download the RTF Fake Diploma Maker.
Need it really large? Make giant 11 x 17 diplomas with the Mill's cheap and easy software.

The Toad tested these out, and came away with a new Doctor of Philosophy fron Carolina Coast University and a full undergraduate transcript from Suothern States University. The Toad even managed a 3.93 GPA with a major in philosophy and a minor in geology. Rock, rock, rock...er....Rawk, rawk, rawk.*

If these babies are good enough to fool the average employer, how impressive will they be when you trot 'em out on the average vagante bishop looking to add respectability to his operation. For that matter, you'll have a better fake degree than he does so you can just start your own church.

The Toad was most impressed with the recommendation letter he received from Prof. A.T. Buckpeshal in the Philosophy Department at Southern States U. (lovingly reprinted below) It brought a tear to the eye realizing how much old Bucky would do for his first and only amphibious student.

Of course, "by clicking the purchase button you agree to limit the use of your fake transcript and/or diploma template(s) to off-line activities solely related to entertainment. You agree the template file(s) will remain in your possession only and will not be copied for the purpose of selling or giving to others. You specifically agree that all 'educational institutions' typed onto a template will be limited to fictional entities created by you." Yeah, right. And Almy doesn't sell vestments to fake clergy either. Rawk, rawk, rawk.*

So, have at it, boys and girls. No need to bother with that pesky schooling at all. Just stop down to the old Magic Mill and you'll be preachin' and reachin' (into the pockets of the faithful) faster than you can say, "Buckpeshal"!

Yr. Obed Serv.,

Roy Aldous Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, D.Phil. (Carolina Coast University); B.A. (summa cum laude)(Southern States Iniversity)
*The sound of one very educated Toad barking

Southern States University
Chapel Hill, Virginia
Philosophy Department

To whom it may concern:

Let me take this opportunity to glowingly praise Roy Aldous Toad. I had the pleasure of teaching Roy in several classes and got to know him quite well. I found him to be industrious, intelligent and very pleasant. Roy is an enthusiastic individual. He is considerate of others, always patient and blessed with a real ability to lead. In fact, in all my years of teaching here at Southern States University, I've never encountered a better all-round student.

If you are considering Roy for a job opening, I can assure you that you won't find a more earnest, loyal, hard-working or fair-minded employee. He is that rare person who was born to excel.

Sincerely,

A. T. Buckpeshal

A. T. Buckpeshal
Professor of Philosophy

Proliferating Bishops

“OLEAGINOUS, adj. Oily, smooth, sleek. Disraeli once described the manner of Bishop Wilberforce as "unctuous, oleaginous, saponaceous." And the good prelate was ever afterward known as Soapy Sam. For every man there is something in the vocabulary that would stick to him like a second skin. His enemies have only to find it.”
-Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary

Good afternoon, Toads and Toadettes,
There’s big news out of the group CANA (Continuing Anglicans (are) Not Anglican) and their ceaseless toil for church unity. Among other things, Archbishops Peter Akinola in Nigeria and Gregory Venables in Argentina vowed to continue to defend parishes and dioceses seeking to leave the Episcopal Church. Surprise.

And here’s another surprise, four Episcopal dioceses are considering switching allegiance to foreign primates in protest against their church's support for homosexual “bishop” Gene Robinson, despite threats of disciplinary action from the Presiding Squid-Watcher if the ECUSA. (If you don’t get the reference, pally, you’ve been living in an other dimension. Rawk!*) With lots of references to Pastor Luther (nothing about “snow covered dung” though), the boys are cutting loose.

Ahhhh, but here’s where the road hits the rubber. The Virginia-based CANA (Continuing Anglicans (are really) Not Anglican) has announced that Akinola will consecrate four new bishops there in early December. These wheel re-inventors ultimately will have eight bishops for 30-35 churches.

Whoa! And you guys for years had a major jones about “all of the bishops” in the continuing Anglican churches? Who do you think you are, you bunch of Soapy Sams? Continuing churchmen have the franchise on bishop proliferation, and don’t forget it, pally!

The Toad received a copy of a helpful comment from one Fr. Blake Greenlee who says, “I'm sure that those planning the future of CANA have a plan and that they are now implementing it.” Yeah, Fr. G., and that would involve making enough of their buddies bishops so they have Episcopal throw-weight. (“We’ve got more bishops than you, nyah, nyah, nyah!”)

At the same time, all of those guys who’ve had a miter in the closet that they would try on in the privacy of their own rectories, can now get the prize they were so long denied in the old place. They can now emerge from the Episcopal closet-in the figurative sense, of course, since these jokers are all “orthodox”. (Say there, sport, is that hairspray on your hands? Rawwwwwwk!*)
With all of this rampant Lutheranism, perhaps they’fe just come up with a new formulation, “The Episcopate of All Believers”. Or, maybe, the “Priesthood of All Bishops”. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

But, wait there’s more! One writer had this to say: “I agree…that consecrating more bishops shows how foolish both Abp. Akinola and many US priests are.” And, yet another fellow asks, “Why does CANA, with 4 bishops already for 30-35 churches need four new ones?” But, then he answers his own question, “Everybody wants to be a bishop. How silly, self-preening and off-putting.”

Whoa, there! Self-preening? Is that like self-basting? And the Toad thought he had the corner on barbed commentary! Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Here’s what it boils down to, boys and girls. Everybody does want to be a bishop. It’s just due. Whether it’s the pathological need to be “in charge”, a messiah complex (“I am the only one who can save Anglicanism, reunite the East and West, and put Gondwanaland back together.”), or just “getting’ one’s due”, the purple derby has to stop.

The only thing that the Toad can say about this latest bit of bishop proliferation is that the candidates may have seen the inside of a legitimate seminary at some point. Of course, they’ve all been hanging out in ECUSA all this time, but, hey, pension trumps truth, and you can always grab a funny hat on the back end.

Well, the Toad has discovered the ultimate solution and has stolen it completely (with a minor modification or two) from the website of “John Not the Apostle”:

Inflatable Lifelike Mail-Order Bishop!

Are you having trouble getting the sort of episcopal supervision YOU want?Does your parish want the freedom of congregational rule without the stigma of COMING OUT as congregationals or presbyterians? Are you tired of bothering with those who disagree with you? Almy has heard your prayers and solved your problem! Now you can buy your OWN inflatable bishop, specially installed with download options to YOUR specifications! This bishop is guaranteed to say NOTHING which can surprise or offend!

NOW you can retain the HERITAGE and DIGNITY of episcopal visitation without worrying about heresy! The inflatable bishop comes with a sophisticated speaker system (activated by a remote control in YOUR hands!) programmed to pronounce absolution and benediction and words of confirmation and ordination--but only to those of whom YOU approve. Made of lifelike rubberite, the port-a-bishop has special velcro hands which attach to heads of confirmands and ordinands. Bishop deflates for safe, easy storage. Two models, to better accessorize your faith:

(a) Model 1928-AC. THE ANGLO-CATHOLIC, complete with 5 beautiful removable cape and mitre sets. $300.00
(b) Model 1928-lowprot. THE EVANGELICAL MODEL; left hand raised in warning, holding lifelike leatherette Bible. $150.00 (Please specify business suit or tweed jacket with oxford cloth clerical shirt in cheerful colours.)
Model 1928-lowprot is endorsed by the Prayer-Book Society.

PLEASE SPECIFY DIALECT OF YOUR EPISCOPAL VISITOR. Currently available: Oxbridge, Texan, Old South, Artistic Lisp*, and Rwandan *Model Discontinued.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Tank the Skank

Good morning, Toads and Toadettes,

There are many things that goad the Toad. He has some has some serious anger-management issues on a lot of things ranging from fake clergy, specious seminaries, and the outrageous claims of church “jurisdictions” (original or not) and “provinces” consisting of twenty “bishops”, their wives and house pets. (Or is that “animal companions”?) Did we mention specious seminaries? Where's my harp seal bat?

Only kidding. No harp seals were injured for this column, although we are thinking vestments--furry vestments...

Well, there are, in fact, other things that really get in the Toad’s wick. Most of them we don’t share because, frankly, pally, it’s none of your business. However, an alert reader sent an article to the Toad that bears on Halloween and the moral state of things.


It seems that bawdy Halloween costumes have become the season's hottest sellers in recent years. Not just for women, but for girls, too. Very young girls.

The Washington Post, about as valuable a moral arbiter as oh, say the Episcopal Church, reports on one 11 year-old who wanted to dress up as a sports referee for Halloween. The outfit she liked is described as having a “micro-mini black skirt and a form-fitting black and white-striped spandex top held together with black laces running up the flesh-exposing sides, thigh-high black go-go boots that could be bought as an accessory, and a little bunny on the chest. She also liked the Aqua Fairy, a vampy get-up with a black ripped-up skirt, black fishnet tights and blue bustier that comes in medium, large and preteen. A medium fits…wait for it…a child of 8.


There's a message in a costume like that, and that message is: "Hello, sailor!"


Or, how about the “Fairy-Licious Purrrfect Kitty Pre-Teen”, which, according to the package, includes a "pink and black dress with lace front bodice and sassy jagged skirt with tail. . . . Wings require some assembly"? (Seems to be a lot of fairies around this year.)


Boys and girls, your little one could also go for such girl and preteen costumes as Major Flirt in army green, the bellybutton-baring Devilicious and a sassy, miniskirted French Maid, pink feather duster included. (Didn't the Toad see this last one at a clergy convention? Rawk, rawk, rawk!*) Fishnet tights, once associated with smoky cabarets or strip joints, now come in girls' sizes and cost $3.99. What about the ghost costume made out of an old sheet with eyeholes?


Americans are expected to spend upwards of $5 billion this year on candy, ghoulish decorations and costumes. That’s more than most vagantes spend on e-bay vestments or seminaries!


The hottest trend in costumes, retailers say, is sexy. And young.

Suggestive costumes for girls have become so big that there is a separate pre-season fashion show. The Halloween costume trend is just a part of a far larger trend that young girls are becoming sexualized. Task forces of psychologists study the trend. Now, THERE'S a solution.


Maybe we can all just blame the teen movies like Mean Girls: "Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it." Or, maybe it’s the advent of skank culture in America-pushed by our constant saturation and fascination with big name sluts (kind of an honorific of late), or giving into products like the ubiquitous Bratz dolls that lead to little girls dressing up as “Bar Wench”, or “Cocktail Hunny-the half-angel, half-devil”, or “Hot Flash, a nurse with thigh-high garters.” Nice. Very nice.


Here’s a clue, toads and toadettes, if you all weren’t buying it, they wouldn’t be selling it. Get out the sheet and scissors.

In the meantime, there are a number of “clergy” out there doing their own version of dress up. (And, you were wondering how the Toad would get around to them, weren't you?) Don’t bother with formation or study. Oh, my, no bunky! Just go down to the costume shop…er, the liturgical supply house…and dress up.

The Toad’s personal favorite costume includes the purple gloves for prelates that can be taken on and off during the “liturgy” at appropriate dramatic moments, with the accompaniment of a tray bearer for the gloves and the episcopal ring. The Toad has heard from at least ten people who saw the continuing church bishop too did this is and is ready to name names. After Halloween, of course. Wouldn't want to mess about with the dress up.

Are these the "men" the ones to address the problem of a rapidly growing “skank nation”? Or, are you boys just skanks yourselves with higher-priced costumes that you can wear year-round? Rawk, rawk, rawk.*

Beware, for thus spake Toad, “If you are playing dress up, take ‘em off and put ‘em away. You are part of the problem, and the Toad is coming for you.”


As for the Toad this Halloween, he’s going for the Big Daddy self-adhesive hairy chest kit for $6.99. (He’s a Toad, it’s the only way to luxuriant chest hair.)

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

Now that's a real cannon of the Mass!

-from Dr. Toad's entry to the Ship Of Fools caption contest.

Good Evening Toads and Toadettes,

Looking for a little militans in your ecclesia? Here it is, boys and girls. No clown liturgy, fraudulent clergy or specious seminaries in the Diocese of St. Attila (Original Province). No, siree! And we have a coffee hour that will blow you away!

More caption fun at http://www.ship-of-fools.com/

Ship of Fools: The Magazine of Christian Unrest.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT

Of Clowns and Kings

"Then suddenly the Roman liturgy disappeared as we knew it."
-Richard Morris

Good afternoon, Toads and Toadettes,

In response to a comment from Rev'd Up, the Toad went trolling to bring you the absolute best of bad liturgy. These are guaranteed, uncut (well, mostly) amateur films of (well, mostly)Catholic liturgy. We have not been able to relocate the Franken-Mass, but these ought to have you buying a new monitor, pally.

First, the Toad has for your delectation an "Halloween Mass" replete with a corpulent devil distributing Holy Communion. And you all were worried about female acolytes? Take this from a little corner of the Church, boys and girls! Just so you know where to write, it took place at Corpus Christi Parish, Aliso Viejo, CA, Diocese of Orange, Bishop Tod Brown.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WadbbxPoBlk&mode=related&search=Oakland%20Diocese%20Clown%20Mass%20Catholic%20Heresy%20Halloween%20Liberal%20Homily%20Liturgical%20Abuse%20Barney%20Blessing%20Orange%20Tod%20Brown

Now, here's the same Bishop "Toddy" refusing the Sacrament to a kneeling woman until she stands up. The mariachi makes a great accompaniment. The Toad had to run for a Cuervo infusion just to get through this one. Rawk, rawk rawk.*

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0yfdbxr7qM&mode=related&search=Oakland%20Diocese%20Clown%20Mass%20Catholic%20Heresy%20Halloween%20Liberal%20Homily%20Liturgical%20Abuse%20Barney%20Blessing%20Orange%20Tod%20Brown

Then there is the full on clown liturgy in the Diocese of Oakland shown in the picture above. Love the stole, padre! The explanation of the colors of the clown face as the "full embodiment of the Salvation story" is absolutely priceless. However, the invitation to vocation and the comments on celibacy by one of the clown-Mass team takes this little gem to a new depth as does the homilist.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsC4wRPybpA&eurl

And finally, a little point and counterpoint, bad Masses juxtaposed against...well. just watch. Warning, there are scenes from Episcopal services in this one. The flaming-bowl-goddess-worship has, however, taken place in a Catholic seminary near the Toad's Abode. (And, no, he ain't telling you where that is, bunky! Just watch the film.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roPPBpk4vcA&mode=related&search=

Now, the Toad is going to take a hot shower, a cold drink and try to forget about clowns. They always frightened him, anyway.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT
*The sound of one Toad barking

On Fire for God

“Remember in elementary school you were told that in case of fire you have to line up quietly in a single file from smallest to tallest? What is the logic in that? What, do tall people burn slower?”
-Warren Hutcherson, Stand-Up Comedian

Good evening, Toads and Toadettes,

The Toad likes miracles—really, he does. He also believes in the phenomena of miraculous apparitions granted by God to strengthen and sustain the faithful. He’s God, pally. You know, the Big Guy. He can play ‘em as he sees ‘em.

And, you know, old Nappy B. once said, “Great men are meteors designed to burn so that the earth may be lighted.” But, just as the Toad has doubts about certain seminaries, “churches” (particularly anything called an “original” jurisdiction, denomination or province), and other ecclesiastic ephemera, the Toad just can’t get behind stuff like the Madonna of the Cheese Sandwich. As well, he has a hard time getting his arm around clergy reincarnated as a briquette, or, for that matter, reincarnation at all--unless, of course, the Toad can come back as some spoiled, rich Hollywood type who can wrap his car around a busload of nuns and merely get sent to celebrity rehab.

This is why the Toad just had to check out an e-mail from an alert reader with too much time on his hands. It seems as though the late Holy Father, JPII, complete with his right hand raised in blessing, was spotted during a ceremony in Poland to mark the second anniversary of his death. It seems as though a bonfire was lit during a service at Beskid Zywiecki, close to John Paul's birthplace at Katowice, southern Poland, on April 2 - the second anniversary of his death. (The Toad questions the liturgical use of the bonfire unless it is being used for purposes of heresy adjustment, but, hey, it isn’t any worse than the Halloween Mass conducted by a priest in a Frankenstein costume last year. We did think, though, that we are trying to cut back on flamers in the Church, though. Rawk, rawk, rawk.*)

It seems as though hundreds attended the ceremony, and one Gregorz Lukasik, the Polish gent who took the snaps, said: "It was only afterwards when I got home and looked at the pictures that I realised I had something. I showed them to my brother and sister and they, like me, were convinced the flames had formed the image of Pope John Paul II. “ Absolutely no vodka was involved in this evaluation, no sirree!

Details of the late pope flambé appeared on the Vatican News Service, a TV station in Rome which specializes in religious news broadcasts. Then, pictures were broadcast continuously on Italian TV and also posted on religious websites, some of which crashed as thousands logged on to see for themselves the eerie figure formed by the flames.

Well, boys and girls, the Toad will leave it for you to decide. Is it the late JPII making a pilgrimage from the Larger Life? Or, was it a slow news night on Vatican TV that resulted in a bonfire of the inanities? The Toad prefers not to think of the Late Holy Father as a Marvel Comics character or a novelty drink called "The Flaming Pope." You know some hotel bartender already has thought of it.

As for the Toad, the whole thing reminds him of Hank “Walden” Thoreau, who wrote, “ Write while the heat is in you. The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with. He cannot inflame the minds of his audience.”

So, now that you all are suitably inflamed, go cool off.

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT
*The sound of one Toad barking

Gangsta Rap and the Ecclesiastic Life

I'm not a gangsta rapper. I rap about things that happen to me. I got shot five times. People was trying to kill me.
-Tupac Shakur (gangsta’ rapper, killed at age 25 in a drive by shooting)

I don't have no fear of death. My only fear is coming back reincarnated.
-Tupac Shakur

Good morning, Toads and Toadettes,

Out in Washington, D.C., Rep. Bobby Rush (D-Ill.) held a little hearing. Nothing unusual there: Congress holds more hearings then there are fraudulent seminaries and hokey prelates, although the latter may be more honest than many secular leaders—and better dressed. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

While the Toad usually stays away from readings of the Congressional Record, Bobby’s hearing, titled "From Imus to Industry: The Business of Stereotypes and Degrading Images," caught this amphibious one’s eye. Inspired by the furor over fired radio host Don Imus and his “ho” talk, the Bobster decided to get down with the problem of the cultural debasement by the makers of sexually depraved and racially charged rap music. The Toad doesn’t suppose a similar hearing could be held on the effects of the “pro-choice” industry on the culture, but, hey, we’ll take what we can get!

The Toad gives the congressman credit for a countercultural stand when he said this music of violence and degradation has ''reduced too many of our youngsters to automatons, those who don't recognize life, those who don't value life.'' He was unequivocal. “There is a problem -- a deep-seated, deeply rooted problem in our country,” he said. “The paycheck is not an excuse for being part of the problem.”

Well, it isn’t the cash paycheck that is the problem with the “roll your own catholic church” crowd, boys and girls. Nosiree! But it is some sort of emotional and spiritual payback that causes a pipe-fitter to play priest and a busboy to be a bishop. There must be something that makes a guy put up a website hawking a “seminary” offering “degrees” and asking the guy who woke up this morning and felt a “vocation” coming on for bucks to quench that spiritual fire. (Or, was it the refrieds you had last night while watching EWTN and complaining about modern liturgy?)

Maybe, it’s simply like the late Tupac said, “Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real.” The Toad doubts it, though, but he ain’t no Continental philosopher-he’s a toad—the Toad—and the Toad knows metaphysics, the laws of supply and demand and a few other things he ponied up some good beer money to learn. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*

Nope. Even, for those who have some sort of theological training, there’s gotta’ be a return in declaring that their “jurisdiction” is the true church and ‘dissing the other folks. This ain’t psychology, it’s economics; it’s return on emotional capital. You want psychology, bunky? Do what the Toad does and call Dr. Phil’s radio show. (A word to the pathological, Dr. Phil only lets you call in once every couple of weeks, but Dr. Toad will let you comment your heart out. Just send me money—right now.)

But, here’s the rub for you “big” (and the Toad uses that term advisedly) “legitimate” continuing Anglicans, as well as you roll your own catholics who happen to have a bit of real training-what “authenticity” are you after? This seems to be the lynchpin for your existence, and is the basis for many florid and lengthy pronouncements, concordats and musings. The Toad is particularly fond of the lengthy exchanges by one continuing Anglican group (you know who you are) and its crafty minions questioning the authenticity of other groups. C’mon gang, this is a bit like Phillippe Dauman, the president of Viacom extolled the vile rantings of the gangsta’ piously pronouncing, “We have a responsibility to speak authentically to our viewers.” There you go, it’s all about a little authenticity.

The Toad suspects that much of this involves authority. Tupac summed it up when he said, “I think I'm a natural-born leader. I know how to bow down to authority if it's authority that I respect.” There you have it. I am a leader, but you know I just don’t respect the authority of those other guys, so I’ll get a website, a couple of fake degrees, some fancy duds and, I am my own authority. Gangsta’ church.

Well, boys and girls, “due to a growing feeling that the gangsta’ rappers have grown far too negative,” rap sales slid a whopping 21 percent from 2005 to 2006. Does that word “negative” ring a bell? There’s no negative in the gangsta’ church-just carefully worded statements providing a somewhat erudite veneer for dissin’ other Christians, followed by the old retreat and sneer. In the toad’s neighborhood, that will result in someone busting a cap in your ecclesiastic…well…in your Belgian lace surplice.

How about taking a look at those numbers among practitioners of drive-by Anglicanism, gangsta’ church or, for that matter, those who just believe “pimpin up da’ church” with e-bay frippery is the path to salvation? And what of the ecclesiastic equivalent of the gangsta’ name—you know, the “venerables” and “arches” and “doctors” that are the substitutes for “Ice-T”, “Snoop Dog”, and “Murder One”?

Well, the Toad is going to be after those numbers, and is going to post them here to bust that cap…at least in an editorial sense. And, bunky, you can make all of the internet statements about “numbers not being important” you want, but if you can hold church in your chopped Chevy, maybe you need to find another tune to sing. If gangsta’ church is a sickness, the public seems to be getting immunized, and the Toad aims to help. Why? Because, as St. Elvis said, “Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain't goin' away.”

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT
*The Sound of One Toad Barking

SPECTATOR SHOES

Know, first, who you are; and then adorn yourself accordingly.
-Epictetus

A man hasn't got a corner on virtue just because his shoes are shined.
-Anne Petry

The spectator shoe is also known as the "co-respondent."
-Wikipedia


Good morning, Toads and Toadettes,

You know, boy and girls, the Toad is all about style. After all, isn’t that what the church style aspires to? Whether it’s a fancy get up snared after heated E-bay combat, or that retro martini shaker in on the empire drinks cart in the rectory, flash says cash even when there might be no “there” there. As Tommy Carlyle once pointed out, “The first purpose of clothes... was not warmth or decency, but ornament.... Among wild people, we find tattooing and painting even prior to clothes. The first spiritual want of a barbarous man is decoration; as indeed we still see among the barbarous classes in civilized countries.” And it looks like there are barbarians enough to go around.


You know what we are talking about—some of you out there reading the Toad are even living it. Whether it’s the fake sheepskin on the wall or the sumptuous vestments clothing the wolf, there are too many hanging on the trappings of the faith, and not building it up. Clothes, particularly clerical attire and vestments, can suggest, persuade, connote, insinuate, or, indeed, lie and apply subtle pressure. The result is written in the courthouse records or in Anson’s Bishops at Large or, in the event of the more outré cases, both.


It was in the course of this clothing-based reverie, the Toad pondered his spectator shoes-you know, two-tone beauties, a bit like saddle shoes. Mine are black and white, just like truth and falsehood, or the difference between fake and real clergy. Spectators are a theological and ecclesiological paradigm in footwear.


The Toad is reliably informed that other colors of spectators are not unheard of. One John Lobb, the famous English boot maker (and suspected seminary dean), claims to have designed the first spectator as a cricket shoe in 1868. They became popular as dressy sports shoes, after the Duke of Windsor adopted them. And, hey, if the Duke of Windsor is wearing them, well they have to be right.


Mind you, bunky, the Toad ain’t giving up his sense of aesthetics particularly on clothes. After all, it is a Dickensian axiom that, “Any man may be in good spirits and good temper when he's well dressed.” And, the Toad, while never in good temper, is always in good spirits. In the Toad’s view, though, just like fake seminaries, the more covering one sees on one of these ecclesiastic swells, the more Toad wonders what or who or how many folks are lurking under them. Rawk, rawk, rawk!*


It is the difference between a spectator and a co-respondent—a light and darkness motif in shoe leather. Now, you remember, co-respondents, don’t you boys and girls? They were those oily guys with the pencil-thin moustaches, slicked hair and natty suits who were essential to the English divorce case. After all, ‘twas a time when you needed adultery to get unhitched, and, whether photographed climbing out the window or caught in flagrante, the co-respondent was a vital player in the drama. In fact, a cottage industry arose to deal with those divorce cases in which adultery wasn’t present. Specious adulterers would be commissioned to provide the necessary condition to get the parties unhitched, sometimes appearing in several cases a week, in sporting attire right down to the co-respondent shoes.


The point is that like the Toad’s spiffy spectators, which either can glide him across the dance floor or get put where the sun don’t shine, church aesthetics can be used for good or bad. A snazzy cope can clothe the devout priest or bishop, or it can camouflage the scoundrel. Just cruise on over to the links on Anglicans Online http://anglicansonline.org/ or one of the Independent Catholic Movement http://www.ind-movement.org/ (sort of free-range “catholics”) pages and check out the finery. There’s a lot of trimming on those ecclesiastic trees. The Toad particularly likes the onion dome miter for evening wear.


Maybe it’s just the case that, when you can't do something truly useful, you tend to vent the pent up energy in something useless but available, like snappy dressing.” Perhaps fashion is like the id: it makes you desire things you shouldn't, like pretending to be a fully-formed and trained deacon, priest, bishop, archbishop, archimandrite or cut-rate pope. Or, maybe, it is just a matter of spectators gone bad, and turned into co-respondents.


The Toad may be cynical, after all he has been around the ecclesiastical block once or twice. The Toad philosophy is not as cynical as good, old Hermie “Where’s me leg?” Melville, who noted, “Stripped of the cunning artifices of the tailor, and standing forth in the garb of Eden - what a sorry set of round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, crane-necked varlets would civilized men appear!”


Nevertheless, we just have to bark about the folks who dress up like Spanish madrigals and construct internet “jurisdictions”, “communions” and “seminaries” clad with similar electronic finery, all sprinkled with the initials of hoked-up degrees and whole-cloth religious “orders”. (On this latter topic, if you are a married, 350-pounder with a day job at Wal-Mart and ESPN on the cable, you ain’t no monk, pally. so take off the faked-up Cistercian get-up already or the Toad’s gonna’ come for you!)

The co-respondents have gotten so bold as to trade on their trappings in the public arena. Just this week the toad learned of one skeezer who, in addition to having more e-Bay acquired religious accessories than Barbie® has outfits, has obtained a public office trading on a masters and doctorate obtained from a now closed diploma mill, and a purported undergraduate degree from an institution that never has offered a major in that discipline. Geez-don’t people do background checks any more? But, he looks marvelous!

If that weren’t bad enough, the Toad also received a noxious bit of e-mail reporting on an “Anglican continuing church priest” who really took it downtown. Seems that he was holding himself out as a physician and was writing scrips and giving injections. Guess he needed a “tentmaker” job to keep up on the Almy payments. Rawk, rawk, rawk!* (Left) R. Vilatte, Bishop Co-Respondent and Man About Town

Bottom line, gang, if you are wearing co-respondents, at best you are harming the faithful and putting your own soul at risk. Find a better hobby than playing church (or doctor), or at least pony up for the premium cable package to keep you off the street. Better that than getting found out, and, find you out we will, pally.

Meantime, the Toad is polishing up the spectators for a night of gin and skittles at the ballroom dance competition. At least unlike the co-respondent wearers of “independent catholic
land”, he knows that the 1940s are over and his zoot suit with the reet pleat and snap brim are fashion accessories to a fantasy.

As for you alleged clergy who are fakin’ it through, “Those who make their dress a principal part of themselves, will, in general, become of no more value than their dress.” (William Hazlitt, On the Clerical Character, 1819). Or, in the words of Sam Spade in the Maltese Falcon, “The cheaper the crook, the gaudier the pattern.”

Yr. Obed. Serv.,

R. Toad, DD-VS (Very Specious), LSMFT, TIAD**
*The sound of one Toad Barking
**Truth Is an Absolute Defense