Bugle 207 – UN-believable

This is a podcast from thebuglepodcast.com

The Bugle, audio newspaper for a visual world.

Hello, Buglers, and welcome to issue 207 of the universe's foremost transatlantic Satira newscast come weekly dance anthems encyclopedia.

Later in the show, show, which club classics would Hitler have liked if he'd been a raver?

And should those tracks be banned and their creators prosecuted?

But first, the bugle for the week being Monday, the 1st of October 2012, with me, Andy Zaltzmann, live in London, a city still reeling from the revelation on the Letterman show that our sainted Prime Minister David Cameron does not have a full command of conversational Latin.

How the f is he going to patch up our differences with the Catholic Church?

We cannot let this guy stay in charge.

And in New York City, North America, it's the pepper grinder of mercy himself, John Oliver.

Hello, Andy.

Hello, buglers.

And Andy, I'm afraid we must start this bugle on a very sad note, because it was brought to my attention this week that a musical tragedy has taken place.

Chris, if I could just have some sad music, please.

The artists, philosophers, and leopardskin pant wearing duo LMFAO are no more.

The duo, Red Foo, and Sky Blue, actual names, have decided to go their separate ways.

And buglers will know that this strikes right at the heart of everything Andy and I believe in.

Ever since I found out that Bashar al-Assad had bought I'm Sexy and I Know It from iTunes, I knew this band was something special.

Their lyrics were inexplicable, but they had that special something that could be enjoyed by 14-year-old girls and murderous dictators alike.

They released only two albums in their brief but ridiculous career.

The first was called Party Rock and the second was titled Sorry for Party Rocking, making them the only band whose second album seemed to be an explicit apology for their first.

They dressed like Japanese teenage cartoon characters and they made the same amount of sense.

But what a canon of work they leave behind.

Their first single, I'm in Miami, bitch, was a needlessly aggressive song alerting everyone to their current location.

The B-side, I'm in Nebraska now, motherfer, was less popular, but equally as good.

How does a man end up as an adult male writing lines like, this is how I roll, animal print all out of control?

Good question.

Well, Red Foo is apparently a former day trader on the stock market.

Why not?

Nothing about this ludicrous brand surprises me anymore.

I wouldn't bat an eyelid if it turned out that Sky Blue was a molecular biologist.

These are, after all, two very strange men.

So why break up now?

Why not release any more than two albums?

Because they don't need to.

That's why.

When you created perfection, you walk away.

Neil Armstrong didn't need to walk on the moon twice.

He did it once, and he knew that he nailed that f ⁇ up.

Besides, this is not a time for sadness, Andy.

This is a time for celebration.

You're right, you're right.

I'm trying to get this in perspective.

You're right.

And let us remember them with a reading from one of their pieces of three-minute poetry.

Any question you may have about life and the world, you should be able to find the answer to in this piece of catchy nonsense, which incidentally should have been the title to their third album if they'd ever made one.

I give you LMFAO.

When I'm at the mall, security just can't fight them off.

When I'm at the beach, I'm in a speedo trying to tan my cheeks.

This is how I roll.

Come on, ladies, it's time to go.

We headed to the bar.

baby, don't be nervous.

No shoes, no shirt, and I still get service.

What?

Just brilliant, Andy.

Where were his shoes?

Where was his shirt?

We don't know.

They may both be metaphors, although probably not.

He probably just lost them in a street.

And now we have lost LMFAO.

Godspeed, you pointless lunatics.

That's like when

T.S.

Eliot and W.H.

Orden split up.

It's exactly like that.

Ironically, it turns out they don't work out.

This very sad bugle for the week beginning Monday the 1st of October 2012.

55 years, John, since the first appearance of the words, In God We Trust, on American banknotes.

They clearly didn't trust him in him 100% and put a coverbit on trust again, overwhelming military firepower and economic imperialism as well.

Took a bit of heat off the big guy.

And 104 years since the first Model T-Forge went on the market, priced at $825.

That was just for the basic model, didn't have GPS or a CD player, but you could get a qualified navigator and a harp player installed in those days.

Bumped up the price to $995, but of course, there were hidden running costs, having to feed them and stuff, and they really restricted your visibility through the windscreen, sitting on the dashboard with their maps and harp.

104 years ago, today, 207.

This issue of the bugle, the number of peasants Mitt Romney would have personally executed if he'd been an 18th century French landowner.

Also, the number of times Mitt Romney has woken up from a dream about being an 18th century French landowner and been disappointed by reality.

Also, 207, the number of fatalities suffered before scientist Ernest Rutherford finally accepted that goldfish are not just mammals who love swimming.

Get out of your comfort zone, he would often shout, whilst another little fishy flipped out on his desk.

And as always, a section of this this audio newspaper is going straight in the bin.

This week, a special French cheese review section.

As the French cheese market struggles like all other industries in the economic downturn, we look at some of the new products on the market in 2012, including the Camon Bear.

Part soft white rind cheese, part cuddly toy.

The Camon Bear is the ideal entry-level cheese for children unsure of whether cheese is for them or not.

Shaped like a conventional teddy bear, but made of unpasteurized cheese, the camembert comes complete with an electronic microchip.

That's when you bite into the cheese, cutely chirps phrases such as, I love you, cuddle me, and try me with a caramelised onion chutney.

Also, we review the Saint-Philippe Celaro Wi-Fi-enabled cheese that can receive emails but not display them.

The manufacturers claim that if you eat the cheese, you will get a vague idea of what the content of the emails was.

Been described as like a cross between a ripe Santa Gor and an iPhone 2.

Comes on a standard three-day contract, rendered void if the cheese is kept in the refrigerator.

Also the Flumiolette, the world's first pornographic cheese, shaped like a copulating couple with a deeply erotic washed rind.

The

Flumiolette is currently available only as a soft cheese, although hard and blue versions are in the pipeline.

And finally the Henri Le Conte tennis cheese.

To retain its shape for a full set of tennis, the Le Conte is a flamboyant cheese matured whilst wrapped in unwashed tennis kit worn by the former world number five and French Open Finalist Henri Le Conte.

That section in the pin.

Top story this week.

You're UN Believable.

You're UN Believable.

Oh, Dupa.

And the.

You really went for that.

You really went for that.

I took two bats into the on-deck circle there, Randy.

Andy, Andy this week has been the UN General Assembly here in New York and it's been easy to tell that it's been going on by the hundreds of screaming teenage girls outside whatever hotel Secretary General Ban Ki-moon is rumoured to be staying in.

I think they all call themselves mooniacs, Andy, and they're big fans of the 68-year-old diplomatic dream boat.

The General Assembly is a big deal.

Not so much in terms of what they get done, which is usually absolutely nothing, but in terms of the attention they get, which is usually quite a lot because they put on a show Andy this is the big stage it's basically the Olympics of talking each nation gets to have their moment on the big stage having had months to prepare and not only that but they do it all in front of the most inexplicably disgusting green marble background imaginable.

It's as if the UN had to decide on a background where no one would look good.

And this was the only one they could all agree on.

Because there is not a pigment of human skin tone on the planet which swamp green marble augments pleasantly.

Perhaps it's actually a way of undercutting everything that's said on the podium by making every single speaker look slightly ill.

Oh that's some very interesting points about the Middle East.

What a shame it looks as though you're coming down with something.

The pedigree of the UN General Assembly comes from what has happened there in the past.

Khrushchev addressing the assembly.

Hugo Chavez referring to George Bush as the devil and claiming that the podium smelt of sulphur.

So many highlights.

Who can forget just a few years ago Colonel Gaddafi when he he was significantly less dead than he is now, going through two translators because one could not keep up with the length, breadth and speed of the bullshit he was firing out across the room like an industrial strength cop crop sprayer.

These are big, crazy clownshoes to step into.

And Barack Obama, John, seems to get a bit of criticism for taking the opportunity of all the world's leaders being in New York to meet none of them and instead go on a teleshow.

Yeah.

I mean, I guess you can sort of see it from an equality point of view, John, because if you meet one world leader, well you just feel obliged to meet them all.

It's like weddings.

If you invite someone, you feel you then have to invite their spouse or their partner or then their children, their parents, their accountant, their lawyer, their bank manager, their postman, their next door neighbour, their dog and cat, personal trainer, vicar, the Facebook friends, TV personalities they like, all the other people from their town, their fellow countrymen and women, other members of their satanic cults.

And then, well, by the time you've done that, I mean, the seating plan is a fing nightmare.

so you can see why he backed out of it john it got it got a lot of uh attention over here that he took no one-on-one meetings with foreign leaders that's the first time apparently the u.s president has not had any meetings in 20 years but again it's classic of politics that instantly we leap to the negative let's think about the positive side andy that left world leaders with a lot more time to go to times square and have their photo taken with a six-foot alcoholic elmo so you know as one door closes another one one opens.

That's what I'm saying.

And also, you know,

the show's ABC's The View, which I'll admit I'm not, you know, a regular viewer of in Britain.

But, you know, if the presidents of Nowhere Istan and Irelovania wanted to meet the king of the free world on John, they should have got themselves booked on the same episode of The View.

That was open to any of them.

It's just laziness on their part.

Or guarantee that during the meeting with the president,

you also give the president a chance to meet Whoopi Goldberg.

If you're not offering that, then he's going to go to the view.

President Obama is knee-deep in the election sewer at the moment.

This was his last major speech on the global stage before November, and he had a tricky needle to thread while walking across his personal electoral tightrope.

He needed to respond to the attack on the American embassy in Libya that killed a US ambassador, but he also needed to do it in a number of ways.

He had to be stern enough to deflect criticism from the Romney camp that his foreign policy projects weakness.

Although that's a slightly strange charge to lay at the feet of a president who's killed quite as many people through unilateral drone strikes as this current one has.

But he also simultaneously needed to be encouraging of the Arab Spring so as not to fan the flames of the anti-US demonstrations that have been going on for the last few weeks.

And that's a tricky balancing act.

That's like standing on a tightrope in the middle of a tornado while juggling three hand grenades, a watermelon and a tiger.

Not impossible, but undeniably tricky.

So he stated stated in his speech, the attacks on our civilians in Benghazi were attacks on America.

There should be no doubt that we will be relentless in tracking down the killers and bringing them to justice.

All the while giving the room a look that said, don't finging push me on this one.

Know one thing about me.

I have an itchy drone finger and I literally won't think twice about using it.

I order drone strikes like I sneeze.

Loudly, spectacularly, and with very little warning.

and aggravated in springtime by high policy camp

he was also criticized for uh not uh discussing the middle east syrian civil war afghanistan or iraq and instead did really major on trying to stop people going off their stage managed politically incited rockers over a sub shit youtube posting he said it was unrealistic to expect america the nation the political entity to control all the output of its 300 million plus citizens at which point the rioting protesters around the world put down their flags, doused them with fire at Arden Foam, and said,

actually, he has got a point.

This really is totally unreasonable.

And what's more, it is bad for the environment.

And now I come to think of it, the Quran does, in places, go in pretty big on the whole peace and tolerance for views and beliefs of others shtick.

I'm going to cancel my subscription to Rabble Rousing International magazine.

It's not doing me any favours whatsoever.

Yeah,

he did use a lot of his address to sell the virtues of America's America's freedom of speech saying as president of our country and commander-in-chief of our military I accept that people are going to call me awful things every day and I will defend their right to do so and for that he received cheers across the room but it wasn't exactly clear what those cheers were for was it oh yes great point about freedom of speech meaning tolerating comments even about yourself that you may find offensive that is admirably intellectually consistent or was it oh yeah great news cuz I've got some horrendously offensive things to say about you and I'm going to take what you just said as a green light to let rip.

Here's one.

Are those your ears or did your head just grow handles?

Boom!

You're right.

This freedom of speech thing is fun.

Obama also said in response to the wild reaction to the aforementioned YouTube video, burning an American flag does nothing to provide a child an education.

Well, with respect, Mr.

President, that does actually depend on how you burn it and what observations you make whilst it is burning.

If you burn a flag as a controlled scientific experiment, it could actually be extremely educational.

You can analyze at what temperature and speed different fabrics burn, with what colour flame they burn, and what this might reveal about the chemical composition of the dyes used in the flag and how much they cost, which in turn raises interesting economic questions about the nature of modern manufacturing in the context of a globalized commercial marketplace.

And of course, the history of dyeing fabric is in many ways a history of Western economics in general.

Plus you've got the effect of wind and meteorological conditions on the flames and also you can infer how this knowledge could be applied in ensuring safety in forest fires or indeed fires in flag factories.

Also might help educate the child in why flags became such important and emotive political symbols of national, political and religious identity at a time when people were looking for unity and social control.

In fact the history of the flag is in many ways a history of civilization itself and the stars and stripes specifically expresses the history of a modern nation emerging proudly from its colonial past to forge a new independent character for itself in a changing world which of course with the upheaval in the Arab world in the last years is actually an extremely valuable object lesson in the reformation of nation states and you can also find out why when you burn an American flag it's always the star representing Alaska that burns first and the last stripe left is always Connecticut so if you burn and burn it if you observe a burning American flag properly it's basically worth three years in school

good point Andrew.

Thanks, John.

Sorry, did I say good point?

Long points.

Long point.

Long points.

Aren't long points always good points?

Well, I think that is usually the case.

The fact that the General Assembly is in America is a great example of freedom of speech in itself, because throughout history for the US, it's basically meant inviting all the leaders of the world to come to your country and talk shit about you to your face.

But I do think that rather than articulating a reasoned case for freedom of speech, you really should have just proved it.

Don't just tell them how great it is.

Show them.

Open your speech by saying, good afternoon, f ⁇ Knuckles.

Now, guess what kind of trouble I'm going to get in for opening my speech like that?

None.

That's how much trouble.

Zero.

I'm covered due to freedom of speech laws.

So with that in mind, here's some more.

I think all Asian people are at least 30% magic.

Can I back that statement up?

Of course I can't.

Did I just say it anyway?

You f ⁇ ing betcha.

So, like the way the freedom of speech sounds?

Of course you do, you bunch of dick bags.

If you need me, I'll be in the White House.

Peace out.

Unfortunately, he didn't do that andy and consequently not everyone responded to his freedom of speech argument positively uh the new egyptian president mohamed morsi rejected uh the freedom of speech sales pitch and argued that although egypt now embraces democracy and human rights it was not going to tolerate categorical free speech and would not tolerate insults to religion he said egypt respects freedom of expression one that is not used to incite hatred against anyone one that is not directed toward one specific religion or cult.

You see,

that is the problem there, because that is very much the spicy garnish to freedom of speech that gives it its special taste.

It's easy to support freedom of speech when you like it.

It's much harder when it's coming out of a mouth that you'd ideally like to have sewn shut in front of you.

Take the Westboro Baptist Church here in America, Andy.

They are people whose speech suggests that they would each benefit greatly from having a series of golf balls forcibly shoved down their throats.

But under freedom of speech laws, you merely have to console yourself with telling them to go themselves as loudly and as often as you can.

Well, it is a very, you know, I think we're very lucky to be in countries where free speech is sort of accepted.

You know, even if I were to say on a bugle, hey everyone, listen up.

That

you all think is so great.

Well, let me tell you,

was nothing but a who sucked

and

with his

and frankly his supporters that

are even bigger

than the

himself.

Well, if I said that, which let me make absolutely clear I have not said, then I would expect that man's devotees to be rightly offended.

But I would also expect them in a free country to be able to take it on the chin.

It's a simple fact.

Tim Henman wasn't that good.

They should be able to accept that without getting all hit up about it.

Imagine even Henman himself would acknowledge my right to talk about him like that.

And he was a very good player.

And I wouldn't say that anyway, John, because, you know, I don't like to offend people gratuitously.

And I liked Henman as a player.

He was an old school stylist.

And if anything, he overachieved during his career in an era of power tennis.

But the point is, I'm allowed to say it.

Mitt Romney spoke in New York at almost the same time as President Obama and made sure to draw big distinctions between his foreign policy plans and the current administration.

I was interested to hear what solutions he had, Andy, that didn't involve forcibly buying any country that was a problem to the US, gutting them of their natural resources, paying himself a huge bonus and then letting them declare bankruptcy down the line.

As it turns out, that wasn't a million miles away from what he actually suggested.

Because he made the case for foreign aid that focuses not on government, but on the private sector and which focuses on building entrepreneurship.

I mean, you can't hand it to him, Andy.

He really thinks the private sector can sort everything out, doesn't he?

Which begs the question, why the f ⁇ hasn't it then?

It's certainly sorted out a lot of problems that it's perceived to be an issue such as the problem of the wealth gap not being wide enough it sorted that out admirably

but the president's speech was an extremely measured affair and to be frank that is not what any fans of the UN General Assembly have come for they've not come for calm reason reaching out across country lines Andy.

They've come for verbal fireworks being let off in a confined space.

And a clear fan favourite when it comes to verbal flamethrowing is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, a true pyromaniac of the prose.

And this was sadly to be his last annual address as he'll be stepping down from power before the General Assembly next year.

So how was he going to handle this farewell speech, Andy?

Was he going to put his finger under his nose to signify a Hitler moustache and then goose step around the stage?

Was he going to screen the lyrics to Crazy Train after jumping on the back of the Prime Minister of Greece and demanding that he gallop around the auditorium?

Possibly, but sadly no.

Did he at least treat the crowd to a walk down memory lane with a medley of his greatest hits?

Israel must be wiped off the map.

America is the great Satan.

All your favourites.

He should have done that, but he didn't.

What he did instead was deliver a boring, tepid, borderline, polite speech.

And the true measure of what a letdown it was, Andy, was this.

Guess how many people were in the audience at the end of his speech?

I'll tell you, Andy, exactly as many as there were at the start of his speech.

Oh man!

No walkouts, Andy!

None!

It must have been so weird for him to look up from his script at the end and see everyone still sitting there.

I'm surprised he didn't just drop the n-word at the end or something just to walk a couple of people so he could at least feel like he'd finished.

This is how bad it was.

He referred to 9-11 as a tragedy and at one point he said, this is a direct quote.

I do not believe that Muslims, Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists and others have any problems among themselves or are hostile against each other.

At this point, I started wondering whether the real Ahmadinejad was gagged and chained to a radiator in his hotel room and this was actually some hippie imposter, especially because he then went on to rail about the immorality of American campaign finance.

Despite what big political parties claim, the money that goes into election campaigns is usually nothing but an investment.

And you do not ever want to find yourself listening to Ahmedinejad and saying, yeah, good point there, Mahmood, boot, with your hundred percent on that one.

If that happens, either you or he have changed to a frightening extent.

Earlier this year, Fidel Castro said some choice words about American politics, particularly about the US Republican race, which he wrote, the selection of a Republican candidate for the presidency of this globalized and expansive empire is, and I mean this seriously, the greatest competition of idiocy and ignorance that has ever been.

He's right.

Strong words, Fidel.

The bearded Bolshevik himself.

He's never been the biggest fan of America, to put this in context, or in particular the Republicans.

I don't know why, John.

I think it's something to do with no president having had a beard for well over 100 years, or

maybe just they don't like smoking off cigars in America.

Could even be a fundamental irreconcilable difference in political philosophies exacerbated by decades of mutual political goading.

Or maybe he just finds the accent annoying.

I'm not sure.

But the greatest competition of idiocy and ignorance that has ever been...

That is a big claim john because that is a hotly contested title molten hot particularly with the unending eruption of volcanic stupidity that has cracker toad out of the world's reality tv industry in the last decade plus he's clearly never watched the now-defunct daytime british tv quiz show turnabout

Although, I gotta say, Andy, I'm inclined to agree with him there.

So that means in the space of one bugle, I found myself agreeing with both Ahmedinejad and Castro.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to get deported for this.

Incidentally, those same words, the greatest competition of idiocy and ignorance that has ever been, were used by the UK Education Secretary Michael Gove about the current GCSE exam system.

Before he dressed up in a wig and breeches, brandished a whip and shouted, Right, let's get British education back to its roots.

Poor kids up the chimneys, rich kids, trousers down.

Right, line up.

Quiet at the back.

What are those girls doing here?

Get them out of my sight.

Right, Jenkinswap, come here.

You are one more snigger away from being given a fatal dose of cholera.

Do I make myself clear?

Oh, Balls, Hopkins Slay just just popped his clogs.

Little blighter deserved it, spelling strange-looking mucus wrong on his health form.

There's no O in it.

There's no O in mucus.

Other news now, and a thief was caught with 20 mobile phones in his underpants.

He was caught

when a tracking device on one of the phones located him in a fast food restaurant, possibly eating a battered rat, or a mashed up whale scrotum, or the barely cooked, half-rotted spleen of an endangered Patagonian lizard tiger or just a regular burger and fries, we don't know.

Police called one of the stolen phones and it rang from inside his trousers.

He was caught with 20 of the popular devices which have now largely superseded their communication predecessors, the wired phone, the telegram, the shout across the street, the sword fight and the grunt.

And it's a tricky one to talk your way out of.

Being caught with 20 mobile phones down your trousers.

Yeah.

Yes, officer, I was roosting.

I think one of them might have been about to hatch into an old-fashioned wired phone.

Perhaps you might go with, I thought my new wire fronts were a little bit uncomfortable.

That would explain it.

Well, I've learned a valuable lesson, officer.

Never buy underpants off a door-to-door salesman.

Or perhaps even, thank you, Officer.

I was wondering where my last 19 mobile phones had got to.

Or perhaps even, you're telling me I can get a vasectomy on the health service, so I've been irradiating my Glasdon and Disraeli for nothing.

Oh, balls!

It does look guilty, John.

He looks guilty.

Feature section now and religious elections.

Andy, it's not just elections to lead countries going on at the moment.

It's elections to pick leaders of religions too.

Not the ultimate leader, of course.

That title belongs to God, whoever he, she, or it may be.

But in any religion, there is a chain of command, and you need a good branch manager to keep things ticking over.

In England, a new Archbishop of Canterbury and spiritual leader of the 77 million strong Anglican army is about to be chosen.

Army might be overstating that a bit.

Maybe 77 million strong afternoon tea circle might be a bit closer to the truth.

The Crown Nominations Commission will deliberate at a secret location.

In an effort to find a successor to Dr.

Rowan Williams, who announced earlier this year that he is stepping down after a decade in office.

He described the job as one of immense demands and said that his successor will need the constitution of an ox and the skin of a rhinoceros.

Wow, it sounds like he had a great time over the last decade, hasn't he?

That's like selling someone your house and handing them a key saying, yeah, good luck with that.

I think it's haunted.

There might be some crack addicts in the basement.

And don't strike any matches because there's a pretty serious gas leak in the kitchen.

Bye.

So that is a weird thing to see on a job advert.

Must have good communication skills, 180 words per minute typing, and the skin of a rhinoceros.

The literal...

It's like one of Hercules' task to guess.

To prove you have what it takes to wear wear the big pointy hat of truth in Canterbury, you have to personally hunt, kill and skin a rhinoceros.

Only then can you get the right caliber of man.

Yes.

There's a list of probable candidates for this position, but I think my favourite is the Bishop of Norwich, who said in an interview with the BBC that he is, and I quote, hoping and praying that God does not choose him as the next Archbishop of Canterbury.

He said the role carried lots of expectation but relatively little power and was probably a job for a younger man, explaining his concern by saying you don't apply you're called by the church to do this job I'm fairly sure the whole process will lead I hope and pray to God choosing someone other than me and when he was asked what he would do if he was chosen he replied I shall pray a lot more now I didn't realize that was how the system worked, Andy.

No applications, no announcing an exploratory committee and immediately launching it to fundraising mode.

You just wait and hope that no one asks you to do it.

I think I like that process, and I think America could learn a lot from that.

Maybe they should think about trying that system over here for their next presidential election.

It's guaranteed to save at least a couple of billion in campaign expenses, just have the whole country sit by their phones on the first Tuesday in November, begging that it doesn't ring.

I think that's how they choose the panelists for mock the week over here as well.

One day, one day.

Waiting by the phone.

The

Bishop of Norwich, as you say, Grammy Jones, a big cricket fan, John, so he's the official bugle candidate for Archbishop of Canterbury.

But it's interesting to see, having hoped and prayed that God does not choose him, if he does get chosen.

And he said, oh, as you said, ask what we do if he was chosen.

I shall pray a lot more.

And presumably with some fairly choice language.

Dear God, what part of I don't want to be Archbishop?

Were you struggling to f ⁇ ing understand?

I'm cross with you.

Amen.

Cross with me?

I'll give you cross with me, my boy.

Oh, it feels so good to say that again.

Always a personal

So, a quick rundown on the runners and riders for the Archbishop of Canterbury Post.

First up, Johnny Sentamu, already got some top-quality archbishoping experience under his belt with a stint as the God Gaffer at York Minster.

Born in Uganda, but fled because he didn't like Idi Armin, which does seem quite reasonable.

And also, you know, there's...

There's previous for this in the church.

Jesus, after all, pissed off into the wilderness for 40 days when he got winned that the fuzz wanted to book him for being messianic in charge of a donkey.

And Idi Armin was, at best, a difficult man to deal with.

An aggressive aggressive conversationalist who did not list compromise in his top 10 hobbies.

Sentamu writes for the Sun newspaper.

I'm not sure what bits he does.

I think it's the horse racing tips, the mildly erotic George and Lynn cartoon, and the little biogs for the topless models whom the Sun has heroically plastered over page 3 for the last 40 years in a selfless effort to raise public awareness of the health benefits of breastfeeding.

Then there's Bishop of London, Dickie Chartre.

Strongly opposed to women priests.

He's refused to ordain any in his bishoping career.

He said, I can't forgive them for what Eve did in the Garden of Eden.

They'd probably eat an altar if you let them in a church.

There's little Justin Welby, the Bishop of Durham, formerly worked in the oil industry, so well aware of the capacity mankind has for glossing over 100% of Jesus' teachings while it's economically expedient to do so.

He has five children, which suggests that he has God-endorsed balls.

Christopher Cockworth, the Bishop of Coventry, pluses, he's called Christopher Cockworth,

minuses.

There are no minuses.

David Bowie, the rock icon, is thought unlikely to throw his hat into the Canterbury ring due to touring commitments, but could offer a way back in to the Church of England for disillusioned 1970s glam rock fans.

Jessica Ennis, the Olympic Heptathan champion, is probably magic and could easily cure the sick with one touch of her highly honed fingers.

Already de facto Queen of Britain, she would be the most popular choice, and those abs would look absolutely awesome under those capes.

She might prefer, however, to wait until after the Rio Games of 2014.

Pope Benedict, well, agents have been agitating for a big money cross-faith transfer for the experienced Pope, but would the fans accept him?

Could be like Louis Figo joining Real Madrid from Barcelona, but more so.

And finally, Lewis Hamilton, the 2008 Formula One World Champion, rumoured to be interested in leaving McLaren to join the Church of England, although his salary demands were thought to be a stumbling block, as were his concerns about the competitiveness of the Archbishop of Canterbury's racing hearse.

I just heard this morning he has in fact joined the Mercedes team instead, where he will be number one driver and Bishop of Cologne.

And lost, and possible outsider, Thomas Abeckett, controversial 12th century archbishop, roomed to be considering a return to the job he left in such controversial circumstances when controversially assassinated in 1170.

On the plus side, he's a high-profile celeb who could boost public awareness of the Church of England.

On the minor side, he's now been dead for 140 years.

There was one job advert listed in the Daily Telegraph newspaper for Archbishop of Canterbury.

It read as follows.

Ideal opening for ambitious professional priest.

Must be able to repeat the same thing over and over again for years on end, have appalling musical taste and a willingness to wear ludicrous dressing gowns and silly hats in public.

Plus, must be able to deal with an occasionally irascible boss who will remain largely incommunicative and out of touch with the business's core stakeholders.

Must have read the Bible, cover to cover, even the really boring and weird bits, and trust the journalistic integrity of unregulated hacks from 2,000 years ago.

No girls.

Girl smell.

Must avoid smitting in public, even if he's seen footballers do it on tele and thinks it looks cool.

Must be able to avoid saying in public, well, God might well have a reason for wiping out 100,000 of his fans and yet another natural disaster, but has he told me what the f it is has he f and cancer for children give me a fing break what kind of shitbrain public relations gaff is that besides we're all just dust in the wind of history right let's sing hymn number 216 it's musically and lyrically simplistic and the organist is 85 so it'll probably sound shit anyway no time wasters salary 18 000 pounds per annum plus 100 000 pounds a month clothing allowance and get a new cloak for every service plus complimentary vesper piaggio scooter and performance related eternal bliss

Your emails now, and we have a sensational email from a man whose name I'm now going to change for reasons that will become obvious.

Let's call him Dr.

Philip Pedoodledoodle.

Dear Andy, John, and Chris, in order of who is most likely to get me struck off the medical register, I'm a GP in I'm also going to redact his location.

Here we go.

When one of my patients sadly dies at home, I sometimes have to go to their house and examine them to confirm that they are dead.

Often these patients have had illnesses like cancer, chronic lung disease or degenerative neurological disorders and they've been nursed at home by their families, often in pain, until finally they pass away.

I always strive to be as professional as I can be when making these examinations as well as being supportive and sympathetic to the families.

I have a 30-minute drive to my surgery and I often listen to the bugle on my commute.

This is where this story starts getting tricky.

This morning I was listening to the bugle episode 206 when I heard a call from my surgery to tell me that a patient of mine who'd been suffering with lung cancer had died in the night.

His family were very keen for me to see him as soon as possible so that the undertakers could take him away, so I agreed to visit before my morning surgery.

Unfortunately, my professionalism in carrying out this visit was tested to the absolute limits and was found to be wanting.

I was still listening to Bugle Episode 206 as I arrived at the house, just as Andy launched into his piece about a vicar in a replica

vicar in a replica grim reaper kit shouting death-related football chants to a funeral congregation.

Through their living room window, the grieving family were treated to the sight of me, shaking and bent double as I laughed uncontrollably for a full minute before I finally regained my composure and entered the house to examine them

to examine

their dead father.

Enter the house to examine their dead father.

I'm now waiting for the call from the General Medical Council

summoning me to my disciplinary hearing.

Thanks very much, doctor.

There's no way I'm reading his name out.

Glad to be of service.

Oh,

Andy sent me that email

late last night, and when I read it at about one in the morning on my own,

I cackled with laughter like a bad witch.

Oh, tremendous, tremendous email, Dr.

Eve, ever.

Thank you very much.

This one comes in from Andrew Strong, who writes, Dear Andy and John, I recently went to the Save the Bugle page on your website and was met with a choice that troubled me.

There were two selections to donate to the Bugle.

Those were the correct ones, by the way, buglers.

And if you have not yet done so and you want this podcast to die, well, good luck to you.

But please do.

We are basically trying to ensure the long-term future of this indispensable guide to 21st century life.

I mean, the world would be...

It's hard to see how the world would be able to go on without it.

You know, it's providing balance and stability in a world of chaos.

We did a good job of that as well.

On thebuglepodcast.com, there were two sections to donate to the bugle.

Then a third selection stating, No way, losers, I hate the bugle with a passion and wish upon it the miserable demise it so richly deserves.

I don't see, writes Andrew Strong, why these have to be mutually exclusive.

While I may hate you all and wish nothing but your downfall until the eventual rise of Chris and his eloquent stories of losing marathons and puppy torture, my hate is what makes me want to donate to your eventual demise.

Seeing that the trend of ousted dictators was the pride they held, knowing that they are sexy and they know it, and seeing how both of you are likely use the same LMFAO ringtone, too soon, mate.

Too soon.

The outcome seems inevitable, but that doesn't mean I don't sadistically want to hear it, so please let me both donate and hate you.

So we'll have to.

Oh, God.

That just I can't believe they're gone.

That just

feels like hearing I'm on top of the world looking down on creation after Karen Carpenter had passed away.

Yep, just like that.

We also got a lot of emails suggesting fake horse names after last week.

I mean, look, Andy, you don't say send in emails about fake horse names and not expect a f ⁇ k load of emails about fake horse names.

Really chum the water with that request

some

emails here one from Mark C Bunting respectfully submitting for our consideration Burley's bedunker dunk

pretty good well this one comes it came in from Arfmed who wrote dear team bugle long long time bullshite first time bull shit

nicely put surely the only possible name for a Randy horse is Silvio Burless Pony oh

well done.

I think that's it.

Yeah well um Derek from Bangor in

America, not Bangor in Wales.

So what's ME, John?

What state is that?

Maine.

It is yeah it is.

You should know you're American.

He also suggested he suggested Burlusk Pony.

Burlusk Pony.

I think I prefer Burlus Pony.

I prefer an army.

The extra C.

Yeah, Silvio Burlus Pony.

Thanks for all your help.

I mean, it's going to be pretty much impossible to beat Silvio Burlus Pony for his name.

It's almost worth buying a racehorse and calling it that.

We can do this.

Well, if you keep contributing to the Bugle

business fund, then we will be able to buy a Bugle racehorse and call it Silvio Burlus Pony.

Enter it in the Grand National and sell its remains to the nearest available French restaurant.

Do keep your emails coming in to

info at thebuglepodcast.com.

And don't forget, you can check out our SoundCloud page,

soundcloud.com/slash the hyphen bugle,

where you can still get all the Olympic bugles, which are no longer available on iTunes.

Is that right, Chris?

That is correct.

Bingo.

Everything stays in SoundCloud.

Sport now, John, and it's that time again, that biennial occasion where our two great great nations, America and Europe, clash on the golf course for global supremacy, the Ryder Cup, as traditionally 24 of the world's most tedious sportsmen gather together to actually represent something other than themselves and their sponsors.

And it does get quite exciting.

Is there much excitement about it stateside, John?

Actually, I haven't seen much about it, Andy, but you know, they'll usually get excited as soon as they start seeing their wives in

Star-Spangled Banner pants suits.

All in identical

smart pant suits, but might as well have on the back in massive letters, know your place, ladies, know your place.

Yes.

And it's an interesting phenomenon, the Ryder Cup here, because it has quite big supports here.

And it is basically the only time that Britain is positive about Europe.

And I'm sure loads of those golf fans will be cheering on Sergio Garcia and will walk straight home and say, Brussels has taken us over.

I think we need to make a choice, John.

Golf or politics.

And on that note, Buglers, it's time to say goodbye.

Thank you for listening.

Do keep your emails coming in and do not forget to take out your voluntary subscription.

Five years of free bullshit, Buglers.

Five years of free bullshit.

Yes.

Let's have five more years of slightly paid-for bullshit.

Let's keep spewing.

Goodbye.

Bye.

Hi, Buglers.

It's producer Chris here.

I just wanted to very quickly tell you about my new podcast, Mildly Informed, which is in podcast feeds and YouTube right now.

Quite simply, it's a show where me and my friend Richie review literally anything.

So please come join us wherever you get your podcasts podcasts right now.