You don’t have to be flagrant about it. We recently had Ronald McDonald to our campus for a franchisors’ workshop and he didn’t mention the Golden Arches once. But he reeked of the griddle and slipped fries vouchers down the cleavage of our skankier co-eds and there was a stampede for Quarter Pounders at lunchtime that left one lad with torn shorts.

I realise once you spend the quarter billion you’ve saved on science on Special Religious Instruction that priests will be at a premium, so I’m getting my order in early. When I was at school, we had an old vicar for religious instruction who had become so disillusioned trying to sell Jesus to juveniles he took to playing Pink Floyd records and staring glumly at his own crotch. When we stole all his Floyd, he played the Ronettes and two girls became pregnant. We don’t want some old sad sack like that here at Cameron College. Send me a young crusader who can spit in the face of reason while smiling. Someone like Cory Bernardi, unafraid to make the obvious link between pillow-chewers and sheep-shaggers. Kids are as clueless as Aztecs, impressed by mindless braggadocio, and we must go among them like Cortes.

I offer up the example of little Tito Ng, a lad in year 12 at Cameron College. Tito’s dad is unemployed, on the sofa sucking the ice pipe and waving a Bowie knife at Kylie Minogue. His mum’s selling her arse for pho-dough on Victoria Street and his little sister has ADD and an STD.

Given all this, Tito’s taken to moping, and is unable to concentrate on his calculus. The research-backed ‘‘wisdom’’ of the social behaviourists wasn’t going to cut through Tito’s knotty domestic scenario, Chris. Only towering historical miracles were going to bring little Tito to the light. So I told him how Jesus once expelled a group of devils from a lunatic and that group of devils took up residence in a herd of swine that thereafter fell into a lake and drowned, every last one. Through that mass drowning of demon-ridden swine, Tito saw the solution to his father’s ice rages and his mother’s prostitutions. The kid bucked up. Tell that to your BSocSci apostates.

Tomorrow, Tito is borrowing the mini bus to take his family on a road trip to a local abattoir to see if he can offload some of their demons on to the porkers before they take the high jump. Keep your fingers crossed. And, if all goes well, you might want to replicate the abstinence of our Jewish/Islamic friends pork-wise for the next few months. The rashers could taste a bit, well, demonic.