The Archbishop of Canterbury on Being Glad James Corden’s Career Abroad Is Going Well
Waking with a hangover so severe that even a fish tank’s worth of water hardly helps, I find myself reflecting on recent events. A few weeks back, as part of an ecumenical experiment, I heard Tony Blair’s confession. Not long after, I received a message from Keir Starmer’s office asking whether he too might confess his sins.
I agreed, and soon the prime minister knelt before the screen in the confessional booth, gauze separating us.
“Bless me, Archbishop, for I have sinned,” he began. “I admit that in the grandeur of high office, I too rarely mention my modest roots. My father, for example, was a toolmaker.”
“No,” I interrupted, “he owned the factory and ordered others to make the tools. But continue.”
“My other sin,” he said, “is that I sometimes focus too much on delivery — delivery for British families and workers. That is my confession.”
“That’s all?” I asked in disbelief before unleashing a tirade so scathing it could strip paint — questioning his ascent to leadership, his political allegiances, and his moral standing. I then offered conditional absolution and dismissed him.
Later, shaking off the memory, I sat down to a light breakfast and opened a magazine. There I found that Ricky Gervais had been releasing a tongue-in-cheek series of mock adverts for his own vodka brand, after Transport for London had supposedly rejected his original pitch.
Author’s Summary
In a satirical monologue, the Archbishop recounts confessions from political figures and muses over a humorous news item, blending irreverence with biting commentary on public life.