The Anglican chief archbishop had almost a nervous breakdown, when he heard about that a certain she-wannaby-somebody-you-truss was thinking about to move the British Embassy from Tel-Aviv to Jerusalem.
Moving or not moving might be a Hamletian question, but the Anglican Church should be a bit less preoccupied with embassies. However, by definition, it can not be not preoccupied, because its church-history is embedded with asses, a situation termed by John Newton the slave trader priest as Jerusalem Embasses.
In Canterbury there might be a millennium old tradition of a festive processional march on every Palm Sunday, when the actual Archbishop of Canterbury himself, impersonating Jesus, rides a donkey, meanwhile the canons following him barefoot.
That is how the title of archbishop originated. The bishop, who is riding on the processional ass, that is the assbishop, by its darwinist definition. In order not to confuse the donkey with the human rectum, Henry VIII ordered the Church of England to change the official title of the head of the church from assbishop to archbishop. Henry knew exactly, what he was doing, because he was a colossal butthead, himself and literally, as he became so fat, that mechanized cranes had to move him.
The tradition of following an ass barefoot came from the Gospel, for Jesus said, that happy are those who follow me with their shoes on, but happier are those who follow me barefoot not minding the dust, the stones, the thorns, the splinters and the whores on the road and roadside.
Nonetheless, the happiest are those who step into the donkey dung, because it is known as holy shit. At the end of the march the canons had collected the remnants of the holy donkey shit, even the crumbles, and it was called as canon fodder for they mixed it with flower to bake the mass wafers.
When somebody stepped in the puddle of the donkey pee, it was a privilege well, as well, as it came from the holy ass and deemed as holy, consecrated pee, and it was also used for holy tea in the monasteries before Henry VIII the Monster nationalized the cloisters.
And the non plus ultra of the march happened when the holy donkey farted right into the face of the barefoot canons, sounding sometimes like a mortar cannon often mortifying the never innocent mortal bystanders. When the escaped donkey wind came in forte, it was often able to extinguish the candlelights on the top of the giant candles carried by the front row, but occasionally the donkey-fart became a flamethrower, the highlight of the day, the flames of the holy wind.
Thus, as a regular privilege the crowds used to get Hussar horseshit from the king , from the politicians they get mere bullshit all the time, only Christianity gives a donkey crap about the wellfare of its followers, where the masses of the pleb get the canon fodder crumbles in the wafers.
Nonetheless, the Roman Catholic Church did not accept orders from Henry VIII or ordinations per say, as it is declared in the Papal Bull of Apostolicae curae (“Of the Apostolic care”) by Leo XIII in 1896, that all Anglican Holy Orders null and void. It meant of course that the Anglican archbishop were and are considered still an assbishop by Rome.
Of course that the unionized English bartenders and soccer hooligans created a united front in the kingdom registering themselves as ardent arch supporters by wishing well Leo XIII in Hell. Even the Sex Pistols hinted that their punk rock formation was deeply rooted in the tradition of the Canterbury rock tales, though it was never among their intentions to use the shrine of Samuel Beckett as a public urinary.
However, moving from assbishop to archbishop did not happen overnight. Even Henry VIII became a monster only gradually. The mediating step was the morpheme of arsebishop. This caused a revolt in England among the luminaries, the free-masons, the plutocrats, the oligarchs, the privateers, the agents of foreign countries, the descendants of the out of wedlock sons of Julius Caesar in Britain, dr. Watson from the Scotland Yard and the ghost of the meandering Merlin.
They all expressed their disappointment regarding the inappropriateness of calling an assbishop arsebishop. For it was well known that the donkeys are not dummies, but one of the wisest creatures of God on Earth compared to the university professors especially in Oxford, and according to the popular TV series Merlin the dragon whisperer called Arthur Pendragon an arse, once, and it was intended to be a descriptive insult. Thus, the assbishop eventually became archbishop, retaining the right to ride on asses as a Palm Sunday rite.
So, in summary, the Anglican Church is not able to be not preoccupied with the Ass of Jerusalem, for this tradition deeply shapes its identity. The solution might be that the Church should unmount the Ass of Jerusalem, and the archbishops should stop impersonating Jesus, and by so doing, stop the preoccupation.
It is not an easy task, because it would mean, that there will be no more holy shit.
VERSUS PAUL 