Do You Have any Brains in that Head?

Taking a break from expounding on the virtues of integrating Sharia into the British legal system, the Archbishop of Canterbury, at the General Synod of the Church of England, contributed to a "Debate on a Covenant for the Anglican Communion." Here are but a few sentences from opening of that address but they are more than sufficient to convey its tone.

I wanted to make three points as briefly as I can, partly in response, partly to open up one dimension of the language of covenant itself. The first point is what we heard concerning mechanisms of exclusion. That is a very unpleasant term, and I agree with those who said that they feel that discomfort and that unpleasantness in it. Behind it lies the very difficult but I think unavoidable question 'Are there limits plurality infinitely extendable?'

A question so many of us have pondered, your Grace; here's hoping you'll share the answer with us someday.

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Every time the foolish Archbishop open his mouth or puts pen to paper, your Bloviator is reminded of a sketch from the British comedy revue of the early 'sixties, "Beyond the Fringe," where Jonathan Miller (who wrote the sketch) impersonates a feeble minded intellectual forebear of Rowan Wilson, Bertrand Russell. The sketch was in the guise of a BCC radio program of the time.

Presenter: This is the BBC Third Programme. We have in the studio Bertrand Russell, who talks to us in the series, “Sense, Perception, and Nonsense, Number Seven: Is this a dagger I see before me?" Bertrand Russell.

Bertrand Russell: One of the advantages of living in Great Court, Trinity, I seem to recall, was the fact that one could pop across, at any time of the day or night, and trap the then young G. E. Moore, into a logical falsehood, by means of a cunning semantic subterfuge. I recall one occasion with particular vividness. I had popped across and had knocked upon his door. “Come in,” he said. I decided to wait a while, in order to test the validity of his proposition. “Come in,” he said once again. “Very well,” I replied, “if that is in fact truly what you wish.” I opened the door accordingly, and went in. And there was Moore, seated by the fire, with a basket upon his knees. “Moore,” I said, “Do you have any apples in that basket?”. “No,” he replied, and smiled seraphically, as was his wont. I decided to try a different logical tack. “Moore,” I said, “do you, then, have some apples in that basket?” “No,” he replied, leaving me in a logical cleft stick from which I had but one way out. “Moore,” I said, “do you, then, have apples in that basket?” “Yes,” he replied. And, from that day forth, we remained the very closest of friends.