Bin Dei – God of Temporal Confusion

December 29, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Bin Dei is the God of those befuddled days between whichever great midwinter festival you celebrate and New Year’s Eve. The time of the chronic background hangover, when you are full to bursting with chocolate and fine fromage and haven’t got a clue what day it is. He is the deity who renders the words “weekday” and “weekend” meaningless. He is said to have originated in ancient Rome sometime between Dies Natalis Solis Invicti and Kalends.

Although there are regional variations, for many the great annual festival of Bin Dei or “Crimbo Limbo” commences on December the 27^th. During this period followers will consume only turkey curry, satsumas and cheese. Normal routines and rules of self-restraint are suspended, and a great deal of alcohol is often consumed. Throughout the period they will also harbour a nagging background anxiety about whether this was one of the days when they were meant to be at work. His festival ends at dawn on January 2^nd with a shrill alarm and a horrible reality shock.

Bin Dei is glad to take your unwanted items and receive them as precious offerings. Offerings are usually collected weekly by a team of Collections Priests. However, only the correct kinds of offerings will be accepted on each collection day, and even then they must be presented at the kerbside in the correctly coloured “Offering Bin”. Confusingly, the colours of the offering bins and what kind of offerings should be placed within them vary wildly by area. For example, your black lidded bin full of tin cans and glass will be gladly accepted in Rotherham, but would be rejected out of hand just a few miles away in Barnsley! Regardless of which part of the world you live in. The lid of the offering bin must close fully.

The sacred text or “Offering Collection Schedule” of Bin Dei is delivered to every household annually. However, by some malevolent magic, it always somehow vanishes before it becomes current. Even if you bloody well nailed it to the kitchen noticeboard. Fortunately, a Lay Brother of Bin Dei resides on almost every residential street in the country. They alone know on which day the offerings should be left out, which kinds of offerings should be made, and in which colour bin. Their principal sacred duty is to put their offering out early, so that everyone else can copy them.

The current High Priestess of Bin Dei is Miss Collette Shun. Her principal role is to handle complaints about the services that the priesthood deliver. Her standard response is tell callers to leave their offering out for an additional collection (which never happens) and she files their call in the paper recycling centre. In her eyes, sinners who miss leaving out their offering to Bin Dei at the correct time must do their proper penance by making a pilgrimage to “The Tip”. This is not, usually a pleasant experience and those who undergo this ritual cleansing often feel pretty down in the dumps about it. Followers of Bin Dei believe that they must complete this arduous journey or else in the afterlife they will be eternally suffocated under old wrapping paper, cardboard boxes, wine bottles, old turkey carcasses and left over sprouts. (Although, there is a rumour that one can wriggle out of this by making a small thoughtful gift (or even just a thank you card) to your noble team of Collections Priests in the run up to Bin Dei’s festival each year. This small gesture will mean you are a lot less likely to return home later in the year to find that your entire offering has been rejected due to a single stray piece of plastic in the glass bin – which has obviously been put there by a passer-by as you don’t use K-Y Jelly).

The temple of Bin Dei has huge imposing gates, through which a fleet of hundreds of offering collections trucks roll daily. Inside, the main buildings are carpeted with a thick layer of brown pine needles, walnut shells and satsuma peel. There a numerous temple cats who run around the place chasing discarded Ferrero Rocher wrappers. All the clocks within the temple have either stopped, or have no hands. All the calendars in the temple are for next year, this year’s calendars having been accidentally prematurely discarded.

Idol Scribblings Volume Two
Coming out 30th November 2020

Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
Pre order before November 14th 2020 for a special early-bird discount and to get your name included in the book as a patron.

Pre order here https://idolscribblings.blog/the-book

Idol Scribblings Volume One

A collection of 52 deities, ancient and modern, for all occations from Idol Scribblings. Produced in 2019-2020.

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https://idolscribblings.blog/the-book/

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Thank you for reading. If you have enjoyed this deity, please feel free to share it with your friends. New deities are published weekly. You can get alerted to new deities via Facebook through the Idol Scribbling Page or on Twitter by following @IdolScribblings . Catch up on the Pantheon so far here.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Glor-or-or-oror-oor-or-or-or-or-oror-ooor-or-or-or-oror-oria – Goddess of Over Achieving Carol Singers

December 24, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Glor-or-or-oror-oor-or-or-or-or-oror-ooor-or-or-or-oror-oria (let’s just call her Gloria for short) is the Goddess of all those people out there who love the festive time of year and love to sing. Especially those who actually poses some genuine singing ability, and therefore stick out like a wise man on Jeremy Kyle’s sofa amongst their fellow carollers. Though, I should make it clear, ability is not necessarily required to follow Gloria. Enthusiasm, however, is essential.

Gloria herself presents an imposing figure with huge….erm…lungs. She has a magnificent operatic soprano voice which, like bagpipes, is best enjoyed at a safe distance. Her impressive vocal projection is capable of warning any three ships that may happen to come sailing in away from any treacherous rocks hidden by fog. She often gives the impression that this avatar is merely a seasonal gig, and that she might spend the rest of the year ferrying the souls of warriors from the battlefield to the afterlife*. Her followers believe that whenever they gather to sign yuletide songs, if they raise the roof high enough, Gloria herself will descend from the heavens and join in.

Followers of Gloria strictly confine their acts of worship to the month of December. Singing the songs of Gloria outside of this time is only permitted by the inner circle of the priesthood within specially defined rehearsal spaces. In fact the only way one can spot a follower of Gloria during the rest of the year is if they attend a birthday party. They will be the one adding a harmony on the last line of “Happy Birthday to You”.

The true and proper words of the songs of Gloria are set down in her sacred text, The Uxbridge Book of Carols. Deviations from these verified scriptures is anathema to them. There is said to be a forbidden “Dark Text”, which contains heretical versions of Gloria’s hymns. These are rumoured include references to the transportation preferences of eastern monarchs, shepherds’ laundry night and Batman’s body odour affliction. This iconoclastic tome is known as “100 Carols for Pariahs”. If you are caught with a copy about your person, you will be ritually ostracised. This is done by the priesthood singing the “Being Sent to Coventry Carol” , before turning their parker clad backs on you.

Gloria’s temples are quaint Dickensian cottages surrounded by holly bushes and intertwined with ivy. The warm flicker of firelight glows through the mullioned windows, and the roof if always coated with a light dusting of snow.

Unusually, worship does not take place inside the temple building itself. The congregation will gather outside the temple door at twilight in their boots and bobble hats to sing the goddess’s praises with great gusto. Sometimes they will stand in a crowd around the porch, at others they will arrange themselves in single file (this is known as the sweet carol line). The flock carry the community spirit with them (in a hip flask). Only once a rousing rendition has been recited will the priesthood throw open the temple doors and invite the worshippers inside for a shared celebrative feast of wassail, mulled wine, mince pies, figgy pudding and special psychoactive substance laced Ding-Dongs which will get you merrily high. The doors are only opened once the priesthood judge that the congregation’s performance has been satisfactory. Sometimes wayward congregations have been known to get cold and impatient and begin belting out “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” with its passive aggressive demands that the clergy bring the refreshments out to them instead (and they won’t go until they get some).

Noviciates for the priesthood of Gloria are chosen and initiated into the noviciate at a very tender age. The senior priests attend every possible school nativity play and carol service, searching for any child who, when it comes to singing, gives zero fucks and belts out Silent Night like a Prima Donna. Despite the fact that the rest of their classmates are murmuring into their hymn books as they quietly die of embarrassment. (Incidentally, followers of Gloria have a special name for those heathen dissidents who whisper or merely lip-sync along to carols. The call them the “NÖel Cowards” dear boy.)

Christian based religions may be more familiar with this goddess as the pre-congregation Saint Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.

Whatever form you venerate her in, ultimately Gloria’s is a religion of joyful celebration, overcoming your inhibitions, joining in and bringing diverse people together in four part harmony. In that spirit, Gods rest you merry one and all!

With lots of love from Idol Scribblings. Xxx

*Well I suppose everyone needs a hobby.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Pyromess and Frisbee – Gods of Property Boundaries

December 15, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Some say that these two may be amongst the first of the gods. For as soon as there was more than one deity, then there must be a boundary between their dominions. It is said that where they drew the line, a mighty supernatural hedge of 100 meter high leylandeii sprang up. It remains there to this day throwing shade between the divine neighbours. They are also the gods of horizons and long running Australian soap operas. Maybe they could be the best of friends or even lovers in other circumstances, but they just can’t find any common ground.

Frisbee is a Goddess of Nature, and likes nothing better than to dry her washing and cavort au natural amongst the flowers in her garden. Just beyond the border Pyromess likes to use his garden to raise his sacred fire and choking smokes. His garden also houses a pet lion, kept purely to discourage Frisbee from popping over to get her celestial sphere back. In revenge, Frisbee purchased a large cock to wake him up in the mornings. In retaliation Pyromess kept racing pigeons (but gave it up when the pigeons kept winning). Then Frisbee started to refuse to trim her garden and developed a wildly overgrown bush which straggles onto Pyromess’s side. The climax of hostilities came when Frisbee stormed around complain about her underwear going missing from the washing line. She was so terrible in her ire that Pyromess almost pooped her pants. To be fair, Frisbee usually tries to discus things reasonably, Pyromess always tries to inflame the situation. They are both musical deities. Pyromess plays drums and Frisbee is a virtuoso on the bagpipes.

Temples of Pyromess and Frisbee are always built abutting one another, yet separated by a thin noise-transmitting wall. Inter-sects relationships between the clergies are permitted, but must be conducted through a single small hole in the party wall, made for this purpose. This ancient tradition is deeply revered, and before embarking on a conversation, one must first kiss the hole out of respect. As the divide between the temples is a Party Wall, it is furnished with a full PA, lights, a cocktail bar and a smoke machine. Sacred sounds are very important to both religions, and they often listen to each other’s music all night.

The Temple of Pyromess houses large, continually burning holy pyres on which green brambles, polystyrene packing and damp leaves are constantly piled. The Temple of Pyromess is always situated upwind of the Temple of Frisbee. Every Saturday morning his priests rehearse their chainsaw ensemble at 7am, which is worth seeing (if not hearing). In the Temple of Frisbee, the clergy all practice naturism at all times. Some Priests of Pyromess are angered by this, some are on the fence.

When visiting either temple it is customary to make an offering of a cup of sugar. If you attend their annual dual festival of “Hedgecutting”, you should bring an offering of Nescafe Gold Blend. This beverage is traditionally scarified to the deities on this day every year in the hopes that one day they will stop arguing and get it on. For the last two hours of the festival, the temples are subject to a ritual power cut with the same aim in mind. Perhaps it is best that they never procreate. They would probably spawn a hundred gobby offspring, with foul mouths and loud toys.

The ethos of both the faiths is to “Love thy enemy as much as thy neighbour, for they art probably the same person.”

Thank you to Dave Redford for suggesting Pyromess and Frisbee.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

Beelzebuble – God of Commercial Christmas Music

December 8, 2019October 18, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Beelzebublé is the ancient deity of festive music. He was born in a Holly Wood, the son of the Dryad of a Norway Spruce tree and Dansette the God of Pop Music. He is made entirely from saccharine and sleigh bells and subsists on mistletoe and wine. He is loathed by all workers in the retail sector, but his mellifluous tones, twinkling eyes and benign countenance make it a high probability that he is your grandmother’s favourite deity.

Beelzebublé’s divine province is all commercial seasonal music. Throughout the millennia he has represented the sounds of many different festivals. These have all tended to occur in that drear but somehow magical mid-winter month. In the last millennia (and especially since the twentieth century) he has focused mainly on Christmas related music. Whilst his music is usually deeply traditional sometimes, to try and freshen things up a bit, Beelzebublé will team up with another artiste. The guest artist will loudly recite rhythmic poetry during the bridge of the song inciting listeners to “Slap Yo Glitz Up”. This distinct genre is known as “Wrap Music”.

The Temple of Beelzebublé is located on the Slade Roade in Birmingham, right next to Spaghetti Junction. Its grounds preserve a remnant of magical ancient forest known as “Roy Wood”. Constructed from gingerbread, the temple has a single high tower which soars above its roof. Each year on December the first, the high priest Noddy Holder will ascend the tower and yell out “IT’S CHRIIIIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAAS!” to call the faithful to prayer. It’s not all fun and games for the high priest though. Above his ceremonial snow covered throne hangs a long and wickedly sharp blade, suspended from a single slender thread of lametta. This is the Sword of Whamocles. If so much as the first bar of the song “Last Christmas” is heard in the temple, the tenuous tinsel thread will snap.

In the centre of the Temple of Beelzebublé hangs their most holy relic, The Golden Fleece Navidad. This sparkling pelt is said to be from a sheep that lived in a random stable in the middle east somewhen between 6BCE and 4BCE. This golden sheep was said to have broken out and wondered the streets of the town one day singing out season’s bleatings to everyone it met. Astounded by this miraculous musical ovine, the townspeople promptly sacrificed it. Because that’s just what you did in those days. Its fleece was later “liberated” and installed in the temple by the mythical hero Jason of Erinsboros. It is displayed draped over a Nordmans Fir and guarded by a Tinsle Snake with huge bauble eyes. This sparkly serpentine guardian cannot sleep. It is too excited because Santa is coming.

In the tiny Cornish village of Porth Noel, Beelzebublé has a workshop filled with song writing elves. During the Christmas hit heydays of the 70’s and 80’s they used to be esteemed, well cared for and cherished. As a result they would regularly turn out a genuinely catchy, uplifting and original festive hit song.

In the last decade the relentless drive of run-away capitalism has meant that these elves have seen their working hour’s increase, their sherry benefits evaporate and their pensions quietly siphoned away. It’s plum duff being an elf these days. These dreadful conditions have extinguished the last sparks of creativity from their souls. They are reduced to laboriously churning out album after album filled entirely with arrangements of festive covers which aren’t quite as good as the original. These albums always include one predictable paint-by-numbers attempt at a new seasonal opus. Thrown in to make it look like they tried. Budgets are squeezed so tight that they have pawned most of their instruments and now they have to rely on samples from the 1970s. Please, please spare a thought for these pitiful wretches this season when you are buying your Nan a copy of “The Christmas Present”.

There are three sub-groups of elves who receive special treatment. The first is comprised of mutant elves who have super-elf gifts and so are chosen for the elite team. Their task is to write or arrange the song that will be released by that year’s X Factor winner. Due to their elevated status, these X-Elfs are deeply unpopular with the rest of the elven populous, who have scathingly nicknamed them “The Sycos”. The second sub division are the elves who edit down songs into a convenient soundbite for the John Lewis advert. They are known as the Jingle Elves. The third are the Union elves who are being punished for the incident when they raged against the mainstream music machine. They have been yoked with the Sisyphean task of finding an inoffensive two syllable rhyme for “Maggot” which doesn’t sound stupid. These poor souls are in constant Poguetory.

Beelzebublé lives in constant fear that his reign as number one may be ended at any moment by a heart-warming community choir or by some bloke singing about sausage rolls for charity. However, the years when Beelzebublé does not do well are few, and in those years we are usually living in a mad world.

Beelzebublé had nothing whatsoever to do with “All I Want For Christmas is You”. He may be a little bit evil, but he’s not a total monster.

Thank you to Sarah Shepton for the idea for the Sword of Whamocles.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.

The Exhibition and Book Launch

December 4, 2019 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Idol Scribblings the Book and Idol Scribblings the Exhibition were both launched on Saturday. The launch was a lot of fun, made so by all the fantastic people who turned out to get their hand on a copy and to enjoy the art and mince pies.

Here are some pictures and a video of the event to give you a taste of the exhibition.

Photos of the launch party by Lana M Louise photography (Twitter: @lanamakesart )

Video by Josh Matkin of The Pickle Jar ( Twitter @ThePickleJar3 )

Photos by Kris Hudson-Lee (Twitter @nomenloony )

If you couldn’t make it down on Saturday, the exhibition is running until 14th December at The Coterie Gallery, Riverside Precinct, Rotherham.

You can order your copy of the book here https://idolscribblings.blog/the-book/

Special thanks to:

Anthony at Coterie Gallery for inviting me to launch my book here and put on the exhibition, and for all the art lessons along the way.
The fantastic Cos-players Sam and Wendy who brought Latrine Goddess of Music Festivals and Sithee God of South Yorkshire to life brilliantly.
Josh from The Pickle Jar for doing filming and editing the video of the event, and to everyone who agreed to be in the video.
Lana and Kris for taking photos (Lana’s photos to follow).
John Brailsford Printers in Parkgate, Rotherham for turning my Scribblings into a proper book so beautifully.
My wonderful friends who kept egging me on to do this and my fantastic family who have helped me through the stressy bits.
Everyone who came along to the launch event to help make it a wonderful day.

Hernia – Goddess of Over Exertion

December 1, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Wherever life cruelly tries to make one bear more than one is capable of, Hernia is there. Often she will pop up in your life when you least expect it. However, it is said that if one wants to actively find Hernia, one should look under a lot of heavy rocks. In this way one can “find the Rapture”… …sorry that should be “find the Rupture”.

Her cult is a highly evangelical one. Her followers mesh together into a well run operation to plug Hernia almost constantly. They are somewhat monotheistic, believing that other deities aren’t a patch on Hernia. Sadly, her followers are sometimes known for being a bit xenophobic. In fact adverse reactions to foreign bodies are common.

The upper echelons of Hernia’s priesthood can be recognised by the way they always move with restraint. This is why every light bulb in her temple hangs blown but un-replaced. A common saying amongst them is “It is better to curse the darkness than curse in pain.” They are a very law abiding religion. It’s members live in fear of having to do a stretch.

The temple is generally in a worrying structural condition overall. There are many unsightly bulges in the walls. A visitor can receive hospitality there though, as round the back there is a hostelry known as the Lum Bar.

If you attend a rite at the Temple of Hernia, be warned. You won’t be receiving a sacrament or making a libation. Instead, at the key point of the ritual, the congregation queue up with their trousers round their ankles to stand before the High Priest, turn their head and cough. The current High Priest of Hernia is Father Buster Gutt. Being the High Priest of Hernia is considered to be a high risk job, as so many previous incumbents have been strangulated. Father Gutt is certainly often obstructed by the political schisms amongst his church.

If you ever turn up to find the temple closed, this is because the priesthood are celebrating the festival of Hiatus Hernia. During this time they take a break from all other priestly duties to play on their slip-and-slide and quaff flagons of Gaviscon.

If you have a suggestion for a deity, you can suggest it by clicking this link. Alternatively, get in touch over on Facebook or Twitter. All due credit will be given.