A little reaction to a comment I left on Crawley’s blog first thing this morning. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, made some witless comments about the financial crisis, equating capitalism with idolatry or some such thing, and I remarked:

“I couldn’t object to a single paragraph more than if the devil himself boomed it from hell with flaming nostrils. Williams is wrong, wrong, wrong. He couldn’t be more wrong than if he claimed Clay Aiken isn’t gay after all. He couldn’t utter a more contemptuous statement than if he was telling us that the church planned to raise Harold Shipman from the dead and ordain him as a bishop zombie. The statement is as wrong from right as George Michael is from Albert Einstein. It’s as objectionable as a pedophile in Disneyland. It’s as idiotic as Hitchens being waterboarded. If my own precious five year old child said something like that, I’d spank his face with a Louisville Slugger. It’s enough to make a drunk sober. It’s enough to make Mother Theresa flip a middle finger from the grave. This Rowan Williams. He’s sipping from the Fallacious Cup. He’s eating from the Bonkers Bowl. He’s a maniac. He’s wrong.”

Some responses included: “John, well said, man! I don’t know that I altogether agree … but that is a work of considerable erudition.” “I think Williams has a point.” “John, he wasn’t *that* wrong … Interesting run of similes though! Did you stop for breath?” “John, don’t hold back. Open up and tell us what you really think.”