Well, obviously it doesn’t take a whole lot of anything for those handling the reins of our government to descend into swirly chaos. Not that I’m judging or anything, I mean I bet that it’s totally super difficult to keep all the various cogs of power ticking over in just the right way. Especially as certain events from this year are bound to have complicated matters in a manner that was almost definitely pretty unexpected and therefore rather difficult to plan for.
Even so, it’s something of a powder keg ready to go off at barely a moment’s notice. Perhaps I’m not being fair. However, it’s worth noting that things have descended into a readily discernible right old flap within the last twelve months alone over the Brexit vote, the plunging nature of the pound, certain people getting into office and electing other less than qualified folk for positions to which they have precisely zero right and far more things I can’t come up with right off the top of my head.
Anyway, the latest slice of panic comes courtesy of that bastion of sanity, organised religion. In any usual social situation, ending up face to face with a bishop might be what you might consider to be a total drag (I’ll admit it, I’ve never been forced to share a conversation with one, I’m sure they’re delightful but I’m trying to make a point and being insulting is a relatively easy way to get it done).
These fellows, however, happen to be heroic bishops. They rescue cats from trees and divert catastrophic meteorites away from collision courses with our fragile planet. When they choose to wear capes it’s not ironic in the least. Anyway, they’ve decided to band together Avengers-style to have a crack at fixing some stuff and healing some wounds. So while No10 is panicking I think we should just let the bishops be in charge from now on.