Friday, September 5, 2014

Forward Prayer Control.

Well before Tavern opening time, I was busy today. As the dawn's rays touched the turret wherein the Old Knight sleeps and the chorus of sparrow's farts woke me from my slumbers, I had to hurry. The fight was afoot.

Yesterday my friend Graham won a modest victory in Court and, within hours, after a cuppa, he was opening up a new front line, out on the streets of the Hilary Village (you know, the one it takes to raise a child) of Hobart. Except in this village we have an abortuary where children do not even get the chance to be born. They are dismembered.

Graham was already on station when I arrived.  He was positioned by the very busy road full of morning traffic as people were streaming into work in the teeming metropolis, the sinful city where the bright lights shine, red, amber and green and back to red again. 

My task was to be the 'Forward Prayer Controller', bringing down the Powers of Angels and to target specific enemies as they came over the hill. (OK, the slope of McQuarie Street). I was armed with my Rosary Beads. He was armed with two posters.

Not this time. 

Graham was already under attack. Three armed police (Glocks at the ready; tasers primed and buzzing) in their yellow-vests. Two chap cops protecting a chapess cop, as is common in Hobart.  Nothing quite like equal opportunity is there. A 'discussion' was taking place and Graham was not budging.

He was backed up by a chap in bare feet who had walked a league across the bridge to be at his side. Staunch fellow, Jim, and every inch a Tasmanian hermit. Now there were Three of us, too.

(I have to admit, I rode down my mountain on my trusty Toyota station wagon).

I put it down to my calm eye and accurate targetting details, because it took only the opening Apostle's Creed and an Our Father. Oh, and a short word or two to the cops. I told them that the anti-free speech law was unconscionable and that as adults they should call upon their Integrity to guide them. 

Kathy carried her message on her back. Fine Woman.

An Angelic direct hit was achieved within minutes and the cops backed off and scattered to the safety of their war-wagon. 

I followed through with the rest of the Rosary recitation, of course. Can't have the job half-done, can we. And we were joined by Kathy and one of her team of children who had been at Mass just up the road. 

Five of us now. A Platoon! 

I think I saw Graham crack a smile.

But the respite did not last long. The Evil One sent a minionette who stood 'up-road' from us holding a sign too. All about her of course. She was quickly joined by a chap-minion who first tried to disrupt us by standing infront of our posters and waving his arms. I blessed him and thanked him for drawing attention to us. He moved off to the protection of the girl and to hide behind a tree.

The press arrived. Cameras, action. 

Yes, I am multi-tasking: smoking my pipe and directing angel-fire at the same time.

Graham had twenty seconds on the TV news last night. (They even squeezed in a momentary appearance of the Old Knight and Tavern Keeper coming down the court steps on unsteady legs).  Graham managed to get a few words broadcast.

I am hoping he has a more solid appearance tonight. Maybe I will even get an invitation to appear on 'Praying with the Stars'. But hopefully Graham will get  a better showing and a better hearing. HE is the Star of this show.

Graham's leadership puts many Church leaders to shame in Tasmoania. 

He has torn a huge hole in the 
pro-abortion legislation banner 
and the anti-freedom of speech 
one too. 

It is up to the rest of us to run a squadron of tanks through the gap.

Come on down Archbishops. Bishops, Priests. Layfolk all.

Now, I have filled the bar top with free glasses of fine Grace. Drink your fill.

Go and FIGHT.



  1. If it takes a village to raise a child, then it certainly requires the whole village to save one. Hire a locum for the tavern and keep up the good work, my brave friend.

    1. Thank you. Are you any good pulling pints and making fine cocktails? I can lend you the keys to the cellar if you promise to say a small prayer when you go near the Crypt. :) Amd maybe mop the floor.

  2. This did bring a warm smile to my face Amfortas - jolly fine job. I wish I had the opportunity to wield my walking stick with you!
    Peter H.

    1. Hahaha. I whack'em there, I whack 'em here. But I mostly prefer to serve fine beer. I might just get to come over there in November.

  3. I'm gobsmacked!! Cometh the day. cometh the man!

  4. Obviously the mere hint of a blessing made that young chap uncomfortable... He seems to have gone incognito with his hands in his pockets.

    1. A water carrier.Not much use for anything else, is he. He does a good skulk though.

  5. Wow - it'd a veritable battle front.

    1. And so it continues. The Police and the Minister of Justice are 'in discussion' now. And our protests will be maintained until someone is charged under the Act. Monday shows promise.

  6. Oh well, well, well done, Chris, Graham, Kathy and Jim (bare feet 'earth' the body and very healthy as long as they're not pierced by broken glass). You are proclaiming the truth to Tasmanians and how about a poster that says "No, it's my little body and you deny my choice to live". Go, you warriors for life.

    1. Maryse, we try. We endure. And it is the good WILL and efforts of fine people like you that encouragse us. My days of smiting the enemy with sword and lance are long over but I can still STAND. and I will. And more.... I can pour a fine drink of Grace for you. God Bless.


Ne meias in stragulo aut pueros circummittam.

Our Bouncer is a gentleman of muscle and guile. His patience has limits. He will check you at the door.

The Tavern gets rowdy visitors from time to time. Some are brain dead and some soul dead. They attack customers and the bar staff and piss on the carpets. Those people will not be allowed in anymore. So... Be Nice..