In the form of a dialogue in the car on the way home that both illuminates the Byzantine structures of the Presbyterian Church and the absurdity of Mel Gibson’s latest pseudo-fascist violencathon.

Me: “Wife, if the Moderator tried to poison me with radioactive gases would you avenge my death?”
Wife-unit: “If I knew who was responsible, I would hunt him down.”
Martha, My Personal Chauffeur: “You could never catch the Presbyterian Church in Ireland because you’d have to go through seventeen committees before you got to Stafford.”
Your Correspondent, Does not believe the present Moderator is trying to kill him. Yet.




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