Hannah is the author and artist behind the Idol Scribblings cartoons.
Hannah is also the lead vocalist, percussionist and songwriter with the folk band Ethryll.
She lives in Yorkshire, UK. For more visit https://idolscribblings.blog/about-the-author/
It’s the festive season again. Boy that snuck up on us didn’t it! So I though it was high time to take a short break from scribbling the “top secret project” to wish you all a very merry midwinter celebration and a very happy new year.
Once again I was honoured to produce an image for the Christmas card that Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust sent to their members and supporters. This years image depicts Good King Wrenceslas is setting off though the moonlit snow with his fledgling page. I would like to thank my Mother in Law Janet for a suggestion which lead to me coming up with this image.
Times are tough right now, but if you are able to spare some support for an organisation which does so much to protect our wild spaces, then do consider joining or donating to your local Wildlife Trust. You can look up the trusts which covers your area here https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/get-involved/membership
Work is continuing of the TOP SECRET PROJECT. In the mean time, there is a new way to stay in touch with Idol Scribblings. You can find me at on Mastodon at https://ohai.social/@IdolScribblings . Come on over and say “Hi!”
Hello Idollers everywhere! I can finally tell you why I have been away for a while, and why Idols Scribblings and Second Bestiary are going to be on a break for a while longer. The reason is very exciting. A couple of months ago, a local community organisation approached me and asked whether I would illustrate a project for them. It is going to be an educational children’s book. Since then, the last couple of months has been a whirlwind of creating characters, deciding on styles, producing test pages.
I had to keep absolutely quiet about this project until some funding was secured for the physical production of the book, and we knew it was definitely going to happen. I still can’t tell you much more about it! The book is going to be pretty much unique in the niche it will fill. As well as creating an educational resource, the organisation would like to raise money from the sale of the book to fund the education groups they run and hopefully produce more resources in future. They are worried about the concept being copied by a publisher. As we all also have full-time jobs, this is probably going to take us about a year to complete, so a publisher could easily beat us to produce a similar book first. Therefore, until we are almost ready to publish, I cannot say any more about the project. When we are ready, I will be shouting about this from the rooftops, but for now it is hush-hush, nudge-nudge, wink-wink, say no more. What I can do is show you a couple of the illustrations that I have done so far, which are too obscure to give anything away! (The book is not actually about birds).
I will be dropping in here every now and then to update the blog and let you folks know how things are progressing, and maybe share a few more teasers without giving anything away! Rest assured that, once the project is completed, the Gods and Goddesses will be back! Until then, there is an extensive back catalogue pf divine beings to browse through at https://IdolScribblings.blog/the-pantheon-find-a-deity/ . My normal stream of eccentric drivel will continue on Twitter, follow me @IdolScribblings if you don’t already. Oh, and if you like your deities printed and bound, I still have a few copies of both of my books left (not many now though), available exclusively at https://idolscribblings.blog/the-book/
Stay fabulous! See you all soon. With love from the Idol Scribbler.
Irs was not born from a union of between Gods, Elementals or even Mortals, but of political expediency. She originated during the Old Kingdom Period of Ancient Egypt. In order to fund the building of royal tombs, the Pharaoh established her sect and appointed priests to raise revenue from his subjects. They were under immense pressure to complete this task for their king, for without a generous income, H.M. got arsey. This was a massive undertaking. So, these priests recruited a team of collectors who would gather the payments on their behalf, each keeping a small percentage of the revenue raised as payment. These collectors were overwhelmed with the magnitude of the task of visiting every household in Egypt, and so themselves recruited teams of underlings who pocketed an even smaller percentage. Thus both taxation and the literal pyramid scheme were invented simultaneously.
The concept of taxation gradually spread around the world, and the worship of Irs alongside it. She was readily adopted by the nascent democracy of Athens to help them fund their military campaigns and elegant public buildings. Eventually, the world’s population grew to the point where it was not possible to individually judge what every person should pay. This led to a seismic theological shift in the faith of Irs. Their religious philosophy became one of self assessment and honest judgement of one’s own worth. This goddess doesn’t judge you. You judge yourself, and then she decides whether you did it right. This is why, when they die, her followers are buried with their accounts, receipts and bank statements from the last five years, and an anxiety attack. Hopefully, all will be in order, and their soul will be allowed to fly west to the Isle of Tax Haven. Some scholars of mythology believe that the legends of the Isle of Tax Haven grew out of early seafarer’s tales of Isle of Man.
When a young person is inducted into the sect of Irs they undergo a ritual similar to baptism. Only, instead of using a font, they use a VAT. Many years of study lie ahead for the neophyte. First they must become familiar with the Book of Acts and the Tax Codex. These are anthologies of the scriptures which outline the rules for calculating what each citizen should pay, but they are written in an arcane language, comprehensible only to the cognoscenti. The Book of Acts has chapters with mysterious titles like, “The Income Tax Act 2007”. These students must also master the skill of tax-calculus, a branch of mathematics so fiendishly difficult that it is reported to have reduced students of Kabbalah, theoretical physicists and Carol Vordeman to tears. Tax Calculus is used to derive the assets under the mattress. Finally, they must develop a perfect perpendicular posture by going around with a pile of ledgers precariously perched on top of their polls. Being able to balance the books is the most important skill of all. Eventually Irs’s worthy acolytes graduate to become Chartered Priests. A few of the more esoteric types will join “Outland” sub-sect, who mainly concern themselves with excising ancient customs and enjoy the privilege of being religious duty free when they travel abroad. The most gifted students go on to be appointed to the highest echelon of her cult, the Inspectors. Those who fail their final exams are considered to be a write-off.
The temples of Irs are known as “Treasuries”. They are recognisable by their portcullis entrances with the Crown of Irs carved into the stonework above (known as The Government Gateway). The floors inside were originally tiled with black and white flagstones in a chequer pattern, but this has now fallen out of fashion, so they are now ex-chequers. The temple cats of Irs are renowned for being phenomenally fat felines. Heckin’ chonks. Absolute units. They live by skimming off as much cream as they can from the temple’s milk supply before getting caught. Each temple is presided over by a high priest or “Chancellor”. Irs has two major and four minor “quarter” festivals each year. Their most important festival occurs on January 31st, the sacred day of Self Assessment. It is traditional for Irsians to send one another greetings cards with the message, “Many Happy Returns”. On April 5th they celebrate their New Years festival by closing their books.
Some folks mistakenly think that they can win the favour of the goddess by paying their taxes with a smile. They are incorrect. Taxes must be paid with cash. The adversary of Irs is a demon who gets people out of paying their full taxes in return for a piece of their soul. Lou Pole and his wealthy followers, “The Evaders” are to be feared and thwarted at every turn. They are the origin of the old Irsian saying, “It is easier to pass a camel through the eye of a needle, than it is to get a rich man to pay his taxes.” He is aways depicted in sacred art snatching school dinners from hungry children and medicine from the sick. Irsians believe that Lou Pole can be banished by loudly singing the, “Audit Domine”.
Whilst the existence of many deities is open for debate. Irs is one we can be certain of. For there are but two inevitable things in life. Death and Taxes. Unless you’re Queen Elizabeth II, who does not pay tax and, so far, appears to be immortal.
A huge thank you to @ladysixa for suggesting Irs, for being a loyal supporter of Idol Scribblings and for being one of the loveliest humans on Twitter. I am sorry it took so long, but I had to do your excellent concept justice.
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
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 Pageor on Twitter by following @IdolScribblings . Catch up on the Pantheon so farhere.
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.
If you want to enjoy the magic and artistry of Royal Ballet tomorrow, you’d better show your support for the children of Mrs Postlethwaite’s School of Dance today. One way to do this is to give praise and offerings to Inspirouette, the goddess of budding ballerinas and ballerinos. She is the goddess of the grace-roots of dance. If, during your tender years, you ever dreamed of twirling in a diaphanous costume before an enraptured audience as the divine music holds you all in it’s spell, then Inspirouette has touched your soul at some point. In some traditions she is considered to be one of the nine muses of childhood creativity, along with her sisters, Glitterpenelope, Colouringin, Recordercide, Dressup, Chromadachtyla, Mudpiemeni, Crayolamural and Diyhaircut.
The high priest or priestess of Inspirouette is elected by a ballotté, and the winning candidate is celebrated with a rousing cheer of, “Hip-hip- bourreé!” The incumbent high priest(ess) gets the privilege of driving around in the official sacred car, which is a rather snazzy coupé. Leading the faith is a role that demands great stamina and aplomb. Therefor the post is not held for life. At some point the incumbent will retire and join the council of senior advisors, known as the “Grand Pas”, who are all in the golden age of life.
The vast majority of Inspirouette’s temples pop up once a week in village halls, community centres and all-purpose sports halls. The barre is the back of a chair, you have to be careful not to crash into the folded ping-pong table, and the changing room is a toilet. This may all be far cry from the glamour of Covent Garden, but they still have a fantastic turnout. Her neophytes dress in a strict uniform of leotards, tights, ribboned slippers and a wrap-around cardigan in cold weather (you don’t want to catch the dreaded dancer’s malady, the Baryshni cough). Legwarmers are strictly forbidden as there is no scientific evidence that they work (and, “you’re not one of the cast of Fame”).
A kindly priestess presides over each pop-up temple and teaches her young charges how to move in the faith and the steps to heaven. They are the only known teachers who demand that their pupils give them an Attitude. These priestesses are all members of the regulatory, “International Dance Temple Association”. Once a year, the association will send out a member of the Ballet Police (a Cop Pelia) to oversee the neophyte dancers taking their grades and delibes-erate over their marks. A ceremonial brass bell is rung before each exam to appeal to the goddess to guide the steps of the young dancer. It must work to some extent as, in the end, almost everyone graduates with a 2:2. Whilst most attend their temple purely for the love of dance, occasionally one of the neophytes may show exceptional skill, ambition and dedication and wish to pursue the religious life. Then their priestess must counsel them about the difficult road ahead. That there may be more bar work than barre work, and they may often cry, “Oh debt!” before they get to dance Odette (and even after).
Inspirouette has a handful of dedicated temples around the world, located in the major cultural centres. They usually have grand facades and slightly crumbling interiors. Each temple has a sacred spring in the temple garden known as the Margot Fountain. (The water of the fountain is never imbibed, they get their drinking water from the Saddler’s Wells). The fountain feeds into the temple lake where the sacred swans glide. These swans are kept as a symbolic reminder of the fact that, though they may look gentle and graceful, a Ballet dancer has the requisite strength to break your arm. Easily. Due to the presence of the swans, cats are not allowed in Inspirouette’s temples. It’s strictly ne pas de chats. Inside the temple you will find a series of spacious studios, each with a sprung polished-wood floor, walls of gilt framed mirrors, a piano and a faint whiff of rosin and feet.
One unusual tradition that the worshippers of Inspirouette observe is “Giselle Day”. It is a kind of cross between a Day of the Dead and Rag Week. Great dancers of the past are remembered and honoured, and the students will enjoy a rare feast of Pavlovas and Isodora Duncan Donuts. Once darkness falls, they dress as balletic ghosts and go around the town raising money for charity. It turns out that giving people the Willies can be quite an effective fundraising technique (and no one was better at this hustle than Darcy Bustle). The night usually ends with the dancers craving chips and stopping by a greasy fish dive on their way home.
Inspirouette has inspired many ground-breaking experimental ballets. You may remember the all-male production of Swan Lake. Less well remembered were the cockney ballet-buffa, “Chassé et Dave” (with the infamous Dance of the Rabbits), or the Christmas Ballet, danced entirely by builders, plumbers and electricians, “The Buttcracker”.
Inspirouette is dedicated to my wonderful Mum who celebrated a milestone Birthday this week. She is a passionate lover of Ballet, and spent many years helping young dancers (including me) take their first steps in a local village hall, accompanied by music from her trusty Fidelity HF31 portable record player. A very Happy Birthday to you Mum!
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
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.
A long time ago, in an allegory far, far away, Travesty the God of Misrule would amorously pursue minor goddesses and nymphs. On one such excursion, his wondering eye fell on Achnestasia and Frizzella, the Goddesses of Ill-Favoured Siblings. In order to conceal them from his jealous wife, he killed a passing cow and took it’s hide for the sisters to hide inside. To further the subterfuge, Travesty then took the form of a goose before engaging in a highly unconventional menagerie a trois. All his efforts were to no avail though. For his suspicious spouse found out and cursed the unfaithful God. Once cursed, Travesty found himself unable to change back out of his goose form! And so he remained until, with much honking, he laid a painfully large golden egg. Now, restored to his original form, Travesty incubated the egg in the warm cinders at the side of his hearth. At the stroke of midnight, on the bleakest day of midwinter, the egg cracked and Comedia Dell’Farté burst dramatically forth in an explosion of song, laughter and glitter. Within a wave of a wand, she had taken her place amongst the pantheon as the deity of jollity during dark days. The Goddess of Pantomime.
The temples of Comedia Dell’Farté resemble great palaces from the front, and tumbledown 19th century tenements from the rear. Whilst the congregation enter through imposing doors at the top of sweeping marble staircases, the priesthood must enter through the stage door, under a leaking gutter, off a urine-scented alley around the back, (I think it is something to do with maintaining spiritual humility). Inside the temple you will find a great auditorium, lavishly decorated, with intricate gold leaf coated plasterwork and wine-dark upholstery. Catholics may be big in guilt, but the followers of Comedia prefer gilt. The temples all have their own clowder of temple cats, who are always shod up to the knee. In fact, these cats are known to be very particular about their footwear. They look fabulous strutting around the stalls in their knee-high Mioawnolo Blahniks and Jimmy Mews. Unlike other places of worship, Comedia’s temples do not have any bells. For, if the bells ring, all the Dicks turn around, and that can be a very distressing experience.
The rituals of Comedia Dell’Farté take the form of humorous apologue plays performed by the priesthood. Officially, there is a cycle of 12 sacred pantomime plays (there are some who argue that Robin Hood is not an official pantomime, but they’re just splitting arrows). One of the few hard rules of this religion is that you must never, ever mash-up pantomime plots. No one wants a repeat of those dystopian nightmare productions, “Jack Boots” and “Sleeping in the Woods”. Audience participation is essential in these rites. An experienced acolyte knows when to boo and hiss, when to cheer, and when to warn the protagonists about a stealthily approaching ghost. These acolytes may be of any age, but the many are little children (who come unto Comedia, no suffering required). The service always concludes with a community sing along for the whole flock, and a wedding.
The Dame Role in all the plays is reserved for the High Priest. Therefore, the High Priest must be a well-respected Thespian. So, every year, the church must send a mission to Thespia to drag one over. For the continued popularity of the faith, it is essential that they find a High Priest that has-beans, not a has-been. Whilst playing the role, the high priest will don outrageously flamboyant vestments and a pair of specially sanctified outsize prosthetic mammary glands known as “Biggins”. A great High Priest can directly channel the spirit of the deity, a phenomenon known as, “Dameonic Possession”, which causes them to speak in puns. The high priest is ably assisted by their second in command, Deacon Billy Buttons (who, before joining the priesthood, was a naval seaman).
In addition to carrying out the rites of Comedia Dell’Farté, the priesthood produces a faith discussion podcast called, “Jack and the Beans Talk”. They also run an ecclesiastical court whose judges all wear wigs as white as snow and robes as black as ebony, and are celebrated for being the fairest of them all. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so for recreation the cult of Comedia field a National League football team. “The Giant Killers” are renowned for regularly knocking Premier League teams out of the FA Cup in the early rounds. However, they always get defeated in the quarter finals because Cinderella keeps running away from the ball, their coach is a pumpkin and Mother Goose gets sent off for fowls.
If you love pantomime, Comedia Dell’Farté will always be behind you in everything you do. Some heathens say, “Oh no she isn’t”. However, Boys and Girls, we all know, “OH YES SHE IS!”
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
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.
In 2020 I was given the honor of drawing the artwork for Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust’s member’s Christmas Card (The Wraptor). You can imagine my delight at getting another opportunity to produce the Christmas Card artwork again in 2021. This year we chose one of the most recognisable and beloved of all UK birds, the Kingfisher. These three wise and noble Kingfishers are on their way to visit a stable somewhere east of here, with gifts of Frankincense, Myrrh and Goldfish.
Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust do amazing work in my local area making a space for wildlife to thrive in a picturesque, but heavily industrial part of the country. Their 15 reserves are open access and are located in a variety of habitats from the city centres to the moorlands. Throughout the repeated lockdowns, these beautiful spaces have remained open to all. Somewhere to enjoy exercise and fresh air and restore the soul with plenty of space to do so safely. Their education team do essential work supporting schools and teachers, and creating experiences which engage young people with nature and their environment. Not only this, but they work on a larger scale with other Wildlife Trusts to campaign protect our environment as a whole and fight environmental crime.
Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust’s reserves at Blacka Moor, Centenary Riverside and Greno Woods and many, many more.
If you have a few quid to spare this festive season, may I suggest joining or donating to Sheffield and Rotherham Wildlife Trust (or your own local area Wildlife Trust). You can also gift membership. It makes a wonderful present! Click one of the images below to find out how. You can also follow their work on twitter through @WildSheffield and @WildlifeTrusts respectively.
Thank you for reading Idol Scribblings in 2021, and for all your support, social media likes, retweets, plugs and shares. You are the best supporters an artist could have. Merry Yuletide and a Happy New Year to you all.
Idol Scribblings Volume One
A collection of 52 deities, ancient and modern, for all occations from Idol Scribblings. Produced in 2019-2020. Order your copy here https://idolscribblings.blog/the-book/
Hooteninny is the God of “Business Meetings”, and never have a pair of quotation marks been so heavily weighted. In fact, his followers make the “air quotes” hand sign when they say his name, in much the same way as a Catholic would genuflect.
Hooteninny is the son of Hujanus the “Do As I Say Not As I Do” demon and Incontigate the Goddess of Embarrassing Leaks. He started out, sometime in the 1980s, as a minor deity of liquid “business lunches” and even more fluid “executive team-building weekends”. In the 1990s he branched out into watching over “fact-finding trips” and “corporate gifts”. If the activity in question breaks a few rules, then that just makes it a greater expression of devotion to the god, and more fun. It was during the 2020 pandemic that he finally came into his own as a major deity when the ranks of his cult were swelled by a flock of political aides who just wanna have fun. Hooteninny’s is an easy religion to follow, as you don’t need to overly concern yourself with following the rules and, usually, it is others who make the sacrifices.
The sacred winter festival of Hooteninny is also known as, “The No-Masque of the Blue Death”. It is held clandestinely somewhere in a central government building. The threshold must be guarded by a phalanx of the Metropolitan Police’s finest, who have absolutely no idea what is taking place inside, or who is in there. Despite being in charge of door security. How these brave officers manage to discharge their duties despite being deaf, blind and greener than a Brussel sprout, I don’t know.
To set the right mood for the ritual, the priesthood will festoon themselves with tinsel and put on a playlist of their sacred “Hip-hopcracy” music. You may know some of the more famous tracks, such as, “Simply Having a Meeting with Cheese and Wine”, “Fairy-Tale of New Pork Pies” and “Christmas Time (Let’s be a Bell End)”. They put out a good buffet spread, with the savoury dainties artfully displayed on paper Steven Doylies. The ambiance is further helped along by draping festive decorations elegantly over the CCTV cameras. If a few grieving covid-bereaved relatives and traumatised NHS workers can be seen sobbing in the snow outside the window, so much the better. It really adds to that Dickensian theme.
To warm up the congregation and break the ice, the senior priesthood will lead them in a series of games. Sorry. “Essential training exercises”. These exercises include old favourites such as Musical Cabinet Reshuffle, Pin the Blame on the Immigrant and Sajid Says. All this generates an atmosphere of, “Whilst the cat’s away, the mice play.” Which somehow persists even after the cat shows up to lead the quiz. The quiz questions are pitched at quite a low level. Such as, “What is three hundred thousand, and thirty-four, nine hundred and seventy-four thousand plus one?” (You must remember that the majority of Hooteninny’s followers have the unfortunate educational disadvantage of having attended Public School). If the “cat” had a bit more wit, he might have slipped in a question like, “For 20 bonus points – Name five MPs planning a leadership challenge in the New Year.” Which would have made planning the “quick-fire” round much simpler.
The proceedings end with a presentation of awards to the worthiest worshippers. Each follower hopes to be recognised as this year’s, “Spin King” or “Best Pressed” or perhaps win the “Best Dead Cat Distraction” prize. Some of the awards are more tongue-in-cheek, such as “PM’s Pet”, “Cabinet Clown” or “Most Likely to Mysteriously Avoid Jail”. If you see someone stratton’ around Westminster wearing a small bronze lapel pin in the shape of the door to Number 10, you’ll know they were a winner.
Now, the first rule of Hooteninny’s Cult is that you don’t make jokes about Hooteninny Cult, on film, at a mock press conference. Should the general public find out about one of these rituals having taken place it looks very, very bad. The attendees have to decide whether to admit to being at a prohibited gathering, or to boozing on the job. Either way, not a good look. In this instance, the two priests who officiated the rite must sacrifice themselves by falling on their own swords. One must do this immediately when the story first breaks, and other has to wait until the official inquiry report is released.
If you are considering following the way of Hooteninny as a good example of how to live your life… …please, please choose a better example.
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
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.
Broomhilda is the answer to the question, “Quis custodiet ipsos maleficis” or, “Who watches the witches?” Witches may make appeals to a wide range of deities whilst practicing their craft, but Broomhilda is the overseeing goddess of the craft itself. The sect of Broomhilda is known as the Office for Standards in Charms, Rites, Occultism, Necromancy and Enchantment or “OFCRONE”. In order to become a certified witch, one must become a member and adhere to the high standards they set. Any witches who fail to adhere to the Codex of Practice are exspelled from the faith or as they call it, “Hexcommunicated”. They also police the prohibition of certain potion ingredients considered unethical in more enlightened modern times. For example, the use of eye of newt has been banned since 1727 when the notorious witch Nic Peepyrs was caught in Westminster Abbey going at Sir Isaac’s newly sealed tomb with a cronebar.
OFCRONE also provides a degree of protection from harassment for its members. Thanks to them, most of the witch burnings that happen these days are when two wiccans have a roast battle. OFCRONE organise security patrols around all rituals where members may choose to worship sky-clad to prevent the local perverts from hiding in the bushes and getting an eyeful. Due to the high chance of being turned into an amphibian if caught, these degenerates are known as “Froggers”. (The witches are not completely merciless. They run a support group for anyone doing “pond penance” called “Amphibians Anonymous”.) OFCRONE also work to promote occultural diversity. Alongside this, they educate the general public about witchcraft. One of the ways they do this is via a live streaming platform where anyone can watch real Yorkshire witches practice the dark arts, called T’Witch. The sect also has a scientific research arm which funds a project searching for signs of Dark Magic in the universe, the Mildred Hubble Space Telescope.
In order to raise sufficient money to fund these activities, the sect of Broomhilda runs a number of commercial ventures. The longest established of these concerns manufactures high quality sacred candles and delivers them direct to your door. Next time you have a power cut, consider placing an express order with, “Something Wicked This Way Comes”. They also own a company, based in the North Riding of Yorkshire, which blends and sells fine teas. The best seller in the range is their, “Great Heck *A* Tea”. Their latest, and perhaps most entertaining, venture is a service where you can hire a troupe of five elderly witches to dance erotically at your birthday party or pre-nuptial night out. If you are a best man with a stag night to organise, you may want to consider ordering a Pent-a-Gran.
When a neophyte joins the cult of Broomhilda, they must spend years training at a school of witchcraft or “Unicurseity” (and if you have been to a real school of witchcraft, you will know the subject taught in the greenhouses is not called “Herbology”, it’s “Occultivation”). During their time at Unicurseity the students will keep a scrapbook of newspaper clippings and memorabilia of Hank Marvin, Bruce Welch and Brian Bennett known as a “Book of Shadows”. Once they graduate and have been inducted into the highest echelons of Broomhilda’s priesthood they become privy to the deepest secrets of the craft. In order to prevent these secrets from being betrayed to the uninitiated, the cleric is now locked into the sect for life. The only way to leave, other than by reaching the end of one’s mortal thread, is to be declared insane, but this is notoriously difficult to prove. One witch who wished to leave the cult tried keeping more than twenty pet felines in an attempt to appear deranged. However, the faith leaders decreed that they’d be mad not to love kittens, and so the unfortunate witch remained in the sect forever. This incident became known as the Cats-22 situation.
Whilst there are many spurious tales about witches, they do in fact favour broomstick transportation. However, the technology has advanced beyond recognition in the last 20 years. The most popular current model is a self-driving e-besom known as the “Broomba”. As e-besoms are virtually silent, when they first came out there were multiple collisions with hapless owls and other aerial wildlife. Now e-besoms must be fitted with a small speaker to put back the “broom-broom” sound, and a seat belt to prevent the pilot from flying off the handle.
Throughout most of their lives worshippers of Broomhilda will use their skills to maintain a glamorous and beguiling appearance. They have a very broad and body positive definition of beauty (and have, on occasion, been known to poke random blonde, slim women with a sharp finger in the hope that all the Barbie doll toys around the world will feel a twinge of pain). Towards the end of their mortal existence, some witches choose to embrace the aging process and “go full crone”. Not all witches who choose this path are able to get their complexions to become suitably haggard. One option they have is to undergo a cosmetic aging procedure. The international centre for this form of surgery is based in the Balearic Islands. An unnaturally youthful looking witch in her 70s or 80s may make a visit to the Warter in Majorca so she can look like what she ought-ta.
If you happen to meet a worshipper of Broomhilda, whatever you do, do not touch her bubbling cauldron of green liquid. That’s HER absinthe. Get your own.
Happy Hallowe’en and Samhain to Idollers everywhere! I am much better and it’s good to be back. The cartoons may not be every week at first, but I am getting there. I hope you all have a fun and spooky time tonight.
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
Even more deities for every eventuality with a foreword by Gary Brannan of the Technical Difficulties ( TechDiff.co.uk )
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