Haemorrhoid – God of Sitting Down Very Gently

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

Haemorrhoid is a god of the nether world and of things you can’t kiss better. No one is sure what he stands for, but he stands none the less. He was cursed to never, ever sit down comfortably again by one of the winter goddesses for daring to sit on her cold stone throne. Haemorrhoid is said to have two sacred animals. One is a mythical giant lizard known as the Megasaurarse, and an obstreperous donkey who is a real pain in the ass.

If you attend a ritual, you will find that the standing areas of the temple fill up first. Arrive too late and you’ll find it’s sitting room only. When the priest in the Temple of Haemorrhoid says “Let us be seated” to the congregation, what follows is a drawn out ballet of gentle pliés to the accompaniment of a chorus of muted groans. This is despite the fact that every pew is generously cushioned. At the end of every service the congregation leap to their feet and give the priest a standing ovation. Up on the high altar a small bunch of sacred grapes rests on an inflatable donut-shaped cushion. In fact the decor of the entire temple has a “grapey” theme.

Haemorrhoid is worshipped by almost everyone at some point in their lives, with the exception of perfect arseholes. Giles is the most popular given name for Haemorrhoidian boys, and they often grow up to become farmers. Emma is the most popular girls name. Infants are inducted into the faith by being baptised in the “Chalfont”.

Astrology is very important to Haemorrhoidians. Their predictions and calendar are based around the movements of Uranus. It is considered to be the most significant of the planets to observe because Uranus is so large and gassy. They watch the skies especially carefully for the significant and rare phenomena when a mysterious red streak appears in the sky near the planet. This event is known as Uranus Bleeding. Their astrologers and seers have predicted that the world will eventually end with a giant assteroid impact.

You are advised never to provoke a priest or priestess of Haemorrhoid. The constant standing, itching and general discomfort turns them into very short tempered bad asses. They have been known to fly into states of red misted fury known as a “Haemorrhoid Rage”.

You may be surprised to learn that the priestesses of Haemorrhoid run a chain of “Gentleman’s Clubs”, the proceeds of which support their church. Here, for a generous tip, they will perform an unusual form of erotic entertainment known as the Pro Laps Dance.

Worshippers of Haemorrhoid gather annually at the summer solstice. On this occasion a specially brewed beer called a Pilesner is consumed. At the climax of the ceremony the priests stand together to watch the sun rise and greet the red eye of the dawn with the cry “Arise Oh Anusol!”

Thank you to Janet Hudson for suggesting Haemorrhoid.

Idol Scribblings Volume Two
Coming out 30th November 2020

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

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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.

Afrodite – Goddess of Fabulous Hair

October 13, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Afrodite is a goddess who knows how to work what her mother gave her. Legend has it that she stepped naked from a sea shell (Although when I tried this I was asked not to come back to the Sealife Centre. Double bloody standards if you ask me).

Afrodite has several different sects that worship her. The Pantenes, The Tresemmes, The Wellas, The Herbalessences and the oldest sect, The Vosenes (who consider themselves head and shoulders above the rest). Regardless of their affiliation, the priests and priestesses wear distinctive long black nylon robes, tied at the neck, which completely cover their other garments. This is topped off with a towel draped around the neck and secured with a plastic hair clip.

You may know her most popular hymn:

She is D divine
She is I incredible
She is S straightening
She is C curling
She is O oh, oh, oh

Key to the observances of all the different sects are the hours spent in meticulous ritual grooming. It is believed that a meditative state of a higher altered consciousness is achieved in the hairdresser’s chair. At her temples one can purchase meditation CDs of hairstylist conversation. Such as the classic “Have you had your holiday yet this year?” or “What did you think of last week’s Strictly?” to help you achieve this state of nirvana.

At the initiation ceremony into the faith Afrodite, the postulate will be anointed with warm sacred oil, and wrapped in a heated towel for fifteen minutes before being leaned backwards and ritually lathered and rinsed in the font (the last two steps will be repeated as needed). Then a priest or priestess will hold a mirror up behind them to scare away any demons they may be facing. At this juncture the neophyte will speak the words, “Great, cheers, thanks. What do I owe you?”.

Followers of Afrodite believe that when they curl up and dye they will climb the hair-way to heaven, provided they have been pious. The unkempt and unvirtuous will be condemned to Hairdes where they will be forced to forever style their Barnet with hair styx.

Afrodite’s sacred text is called “The Little Book of Clam”.

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.

Dicenysis – God of Board Games

September 8, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Dicenysis is the God of Board Games and a psychopomp. You may think that the phrase “dicing with death” is just a saying.

It isn’t.

Until 1957 Dicenysis was just a standard skeletal psychopomp, helping shuffle hapless souls to the underworld. Everything changed with the release of the classic film “The Seventh Seal”. Suddenly everyone wanted to gamble on a game for another chance at life. In a very short time Dicenysis became familiar with, and supremely skilled at, all known table top games from around the world. The world of gaming became his Dominion. Well, we can’t have the mortals getting away with that kind of thing.

Worshippers believe that, upon death, Dicenysis appears to us all. If you are not a worshipper of Dicenysis, you have to challenge him to a board game for your life. Therefore, Dicenysis gets to choose the game. He is said to favour an unusual form of Kerplunk! where he will impale himself through the rib cage with a bundle of skewers and then drink several of gallons of marbles. When in a mischievous mood, he will challenge you to a round of Twister (being able to disassemble and rearticulate your own bones as required is a bit of an unfair advantage). If you lived a particularly amoral life, he will make you play an extremely gory version of Operation where you are the playing board (if your nose lights up, it’s all over). If you lose, no matter how often you say sorry, Dicenysis will give you a ticket to ride to the afterlife.

If you are a devout and devoted follower, Dicenysis will extend the honour of challenging you to a game. This gives you the advantage of choosing the board of battle. This doesn’t really help most people, but it’s nice to get to choose your last game. (It is a bit of a risk to go for a strategic game though.) There are a few of the holy mystics of Dicenysis who appear to be incredibly ancient. The way they achieve this longevity is a closely guarded secret, but I will reveal it to you now. When you are almost dead, and Dicenysis appears to you and offers you the challenge of a game, the game you should choose is Mousetrap. As this game is infuriatingly, engagingly impossible to complete, Dicenysis will get fed up, give up and allow you safe passage back to the corporeal realm. Actually. That is all lies. The game that Dicenysis is really playing is “The Game”, and you just lost it.

Despite accepting that they will ultimately be defeated, worshippers of Dicenysis will spend their entire lives honing their board gaming skills. They see life as a journey of spiritual preparation and practice for the “One Great Game” that they will play when their mortal thread is about to be severed. To this end, they will gather to perform the ritual of playing together, often late into the night.

A rite commences with the ritualistic laying out of the board upon the altar and “the gathering of the snacks”. The cards and pieces are ceremonially checked to be all present and correct. Each ritual is usually officiated by 2-6 Priests (Ages 8-80). At the climax of the rite, some sheep will be burned on a ritual pyre in sacrifice to Dicenysis. At the end of the rite the game board and the altar are ceremonially flipped over. The pieces are scattered everywhere, and the priests scrabble to pick them up. The temple’s sacrifice stores are always kept well stocked these days. No one wants a repeat of the incident when they ran out of fuel for the pyre. This left a massively embarrassed Priest running around, asking all the congregation whether they had wood for his sheep. Another time they couldn’t get any sheep and ended up trying to stick cotton wool on some porkers. This attempt to pass the pigs off did not succeed.

Dicenysis’ faith is a popular one. There are temples all over the world and the largest of them is located in Carcassonne. The roofs of Dicenysis’ temples are all tiled with letters. Sadly, like the lead flashing on the roofs of other religious buildings, these letter tiles are prone to theft. Z and Q are stolen the most often. Another notable feature of Dicenysis’ temples are their doorbells. They are comprised of a clear Perspex dome containing a pair of dice. When you press the doorbell, it makes a satisfying click, and the dice dance with. If you want do look inside or attend a rite, you must roll a six to enter. Inside, Temples of Dicenysis are pleasant and welcoming places, furnished with large tables and comfortable chairs. The walls will be lined with an impressive library of board games. The priesthood will be in attendance to counsel you and help you negotiate the rules of this game of life. The way of Dicenysis is said to be excellent for teaching conflict resolution and fair play. For example, when two Dicenysians bump into one another trying to get through the same doorway, they will throw a dice to see who gets to go first. However, sadly, they are not very tolerant of other religions. The priesthood of Dicenysis like to have the monopoly. The current leader of the faith is High Priestess Kathryn Anne (known as Kat). She was not the first choice when the previous incumbent left the post, but they settled for her.

The faith of Dicenysis contains small parts and is not suitable for children under 3.

Thank you to Clare Starkie and Rebecca Stothard for suggesting a deity of board games, and to Clare Starkie for coming up with the name Dicenysis.

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.

Termes – God of Back to School

August 17, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Termes is a children’s deity. He watches over all youngsters during their years in full time education. Termes came into being in 387 BCE, the year of the founding of Plato’s Academy.

Temples of Termes are either leaking old complexes of buildings, haphazardly expanded over the years, or befuddling shiny new monoliths of baffling progressive architecture. Which also leak. Uniformly displayed in every temple are dozen pictures known as “The 12 Stages of the Education”. If you tour the temple and view them in order, in each one, Termes is depicted as a year older than in the previous. The first scene always depicts Termes in short trousers. At stage 7 there is a sudden, complete change of costume, and in the final scene he is show waving two fingers at his shite-hole home town as he heads off to university. The innermost sanctuary of the temple is forbidden to all but the priesthood. This mysterious realm is known as “The Staff Room”. No one knows what happens in here, but those who have passed the door have reported hearing quiet sobbing from inside. When choosing a new High Priest or Priestess they will select the one with their faculty still intact.

In the religion of Termes, it is the congregation which have to wear ceremonial vestments, not their parents or the priesthood. The uniform of each temple is slightly different, and only available from a few select retailers at conveniently extortionate prices. All clothing comes in one size, known as size “you’ll grow into it”. Any member of the congregation found to not be wearing their uniform correctly at the temple will be immediately sent home with a note.

Termes’ sacred day occurs on the 1^st of September. It is known as the “First Day of Termes”. This festival is loathed by all Termian children and priests, but loved and longed for by Termian parents. Let me describe a Termian child’s typical “First Day of Termes” for you.

The preparation for this special day usually begins in July when supplies for the celebration start to be stocked in the shops. A fraught and hectic family shopping trip will take place to purchase all the necessary accoutrements and vestments. Traditionally, mothers will take their children on this annual venture. However, from time to time, brave fathers have stepped into the breech. According to the folklore of Termes this yields mixed results. There is a famous myth told of a male guardian who took his young charge back to school shopping. Sure, he got the books and the clothes okay, but he also forgot to get their broken glasses fixed and brought the child an owl. (In modern times this attitude is considered by many Termians to be old fashioned and sexist and parents will undertake the duties equally). Children will also usually receive their annual shearing at this time in readiness for the festival.

The night before (known by Termians as “The Longest Night”) is a flurry of activity to try and ensure excellent organisation, followed by eight dark hours of restlessness. By strict tradition, parents will yell at their children exactly one hundred times to “Pack their bag”. Also by strict tradition, their children don’t. At dawn on the big day the children are roused early, scrubbed to within an inch of their life, forced into their new vestments and lined up in front of the fire place to be ritually shot for Instagram. Thus their tender dignity is sacrificed to Termes. Once the moment has been captured, the children are allowed to break their fast. They weren’t allowed to eat before “in case they got something on it”.

Next the children will leave the house to go to the temple in a ceremonial rush. In ancient times they made this journey on foot. Nowadays these processional routes* are jammed solid with honking Land Rovers and Audis. This change has come about because over time all schools have been re located up mountains. It is a modern tradition for the children to fling the doors of these vehicles open without looking, for the parents to leave the engine running and for the vehicle to be left parked diagonally on the yellow zig-zags whilst someone has a chat. As the children enter the compound, the temple bells will ring shrilly to mark the start of the new year.

At the temple, the children will gather in the hall to hear a short address of welcome from the Head Priest. This will also contain messages of inspiration and dire warning for the year ahead. Following this, worshippers engage in the traditional activities of colouring in time tables, catching up with friends, covering books in wrapping paper and getting lost. Then they will write an essay of meditative reflection known as the “What I Did On My Holidays”. Sometimes the priesthood may hold a little pop quiz, which really bursts everyone’s bubble. Older children will be introduced to a variety of new subjects to study. Every style conscious Termian child hopes to have Geography on the First Day of Termes, because Geography is where it’s at.

The day ends at around 3pm, when the weary youngsters will wend their way home. When their parents enquire how their day went, the answer will always be “Ugh, alright”. When asked what they did, the answer is always, “Nuffin”.

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.

*Note for Classicists: The route to a Temple of Termes is marked by distinctive statues known as Terma (or Terms). Terma consist of a vertical stone cuboid plinth topped with a sculpted head of the god. The front of the plinth is decorated with a carving of an Oxford Maths Set 15cm perspex ruler and a couple of protractors. It is considered pious and good luck to touch the carving of the ruler as you pass. They say if you have pleased the god it will turn into a 30cm ruler.

Piccaeolus – God of Flautists

June 13, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Piccaeolus is a musical deity with equivalent avatars in the pantheons of many cultures. He is also known as Kazooka, Flautulus, Djethro and Flautingale. He watches over all wind musicians, particularly the little baby piccolo players. The story of his origin states that he was a mortal war child (yes, he was living, in the past) from Rock Island. He shot to fame with his musical performance in a benefit Passion Play. Whilst out one night on storm watch, he was wearing the crest of a knave and a broadsword. This attracted a lightning strike which scorched him and the tree he was stood under from roots to branches. He was resurrected by a remorseful thunder god and elevated to the godhood to serve as minstrel to the gods. Initially the thunder god wanted to keep this under wraps, but Piccaeolus couldn’t wait to stand up and was soon bursting out.

The Temple of Piccaeolus is located in Galway. It is a tall, narrow, cylindrical stone tower with nine ovoid windows. It is carved from silvery andesite and features elegant fluted columns. It, perhaps sensibly, does not have any glass in the windows. At all times within the temple there will be two flutes being played by a minstrel in the gallery. They play the sacred music of Piccaeolus in unison with a minor second interval. There are no temple cats. If there were any they fled long ago. The temple has never ever been cleaned inside, although the outside is very shiny. Hidden to the rear is a constantly dripping outflow tap from which a clear, slimy substance drips constantly.

At the Temple flautists can partake in lessons from the priests. The priesthood are renowned experts in tonging and you will marvel at their fingering technique. You cannot help but improve under their tutelage. They can even teach you the techniques of “Survival Musicianship”. For example making emergency flutes carved from cucumbers. These makeshift instruments are known as Pickle-os. The sacred text of Piccaeolus “Songs from the Wood” will form the core of your syllabus. Be sure to be attentive and keep up in lessons. You don’t want them to think you’re thick as a brick. (Sadly Piccaeolus himself is illiterate. He doesn’t reed at all.)

The priests and priestesses of Piccaeolus also often act as trusted, secure couriers of valuable and sensitive items. They place the items in their care into flute cases, as this means they will never, ever get stolen. However, should you attempt to intercept them, beware! They practice a deadly martial art which involves firing darts from transverse blow-pipes whist standing on one leg to confuse the enemy. The priesthood and more devout followers of Piccaeolus can be recognised by the wearing of the traditional “Soul Stice” prayer bells around the feet. The most devout sect of all go everywhere riding heavy horses and wearing aqualungs.

The followers of Piccaeolus are renowned for all being a little eccentric. In truth every one’s a fruit and nut case. Within the faith of Piccaeolus it is possible to marry one’s musical instrument. In fact, many senior priests do this as an act of devotion. This unusual wedding ritual is very beautiful and moving. Guests will often tear up when the High Priest says “I now pronounce you Man and Fife”. The faith of Piccaeolus is for life. You are still welcome in their community when you’re too old to rock and roll.

Piccaeolus is a joint effort between Wendy Barrows, Pascal Harper, John Kennard, Carey Anne Boyce and Ju Haynes. Thank you for your puntastic assistance. We would jointly like to send our humble apologies to Mr Ian Anderson for the liberties we have taken.

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.

Barclay Spank – Goddess of Financial Dominatrices

May 12, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Barclay Spank is an extremely English deity. She is a goddess of finance and fantasy, and she always has a passion to perform. She came into her present form in the 1980’s amid the hedonistic days of Thatcher cuts and Yuppie excess. Originally a deity of public sector workers, she looked for a career move that would mean she got screwed less, and representing the sex industry seemed ideal. She was so popular with financial sector workers, that she is now irrevocably associated with them. He Temple, or should we say “Secure Vault”, is at a secret location somewhere beneath in the Square Mile.

The ethos behind the cult of Barclay Spank is that all powerful men in suits are just revolting, naughty little boys who need to be punished. That enlightenment and betterment of the soul can be achieved through total immersion role play and a good spanking. This is an exclusive church only for the affluent. If you wish to join the church of Barclay Spank, one must undergo financial scrutiny. The capital, number one question they will ask you is “What’s in your wallet?” If you pass this test, you must then invest in her “Bonds” to become a full member. You really do have to get into her stocks. Conversely, the richer you are, the lower you will rank within the faith. Billionaires can expect to be on shoe licking duty at the door.

There are a number of different types of “service” one can attend at a Temple of Barclay Spank. Each costs a differing fee to partake in. For the lowest fee, one can visit the temple for a little light humiliation and TSB until you say “Yes!”

The premium rate service involves being roughly picked up by a burly priest in black leather, restrained and transported to the temple in the back of an armoured van. They will collect you from anywhere in the world for a standard rate. (Except Halifax. That’s extra). Once at the temple, her priestesses and priests will restrain you on a St Howard’s Cross, tied at the ankles and wrists using metal bobble chains with pens on the end. Suspended here, one will have opportunity for meditation, being scourged of one’s sins by being beaten on the behind with a business banking chequebook, and begging the goddess for forgiveness / more. This rite climaxes when the officiating priests and priestesses pour a sack of sovereigns over your head. This part of the ritual is known as “The Golden Shower”.

Many worshippers have become slavishly devoted to Barclay Spank. Given the high fees demanded, they are regularly strapped for cash. If you are wondering where all the money went from the losses of the Noughties Banking Crisis, all I can say is that the goddess has bulging coffers.

It is important to remember that all practices in the cult of Barclay Spank are “HSBC” – Hopefully Sane, Bountiful and Consensual. If you need out, you just have to shout out “Equivoque”. This is the safe word pun.

Barclay Spank is accompanied everywhere by her consort Lloyd Spank – God of Bodyguards. (He is always by your side). Her most celebrated prophet was “Master Card”. He was a contortionist and founded the cult of Barclay Spank so that people could access her divine blessing. He was famously a Switch. He is often referred to as her “Flexible Friend”.

I would tell you more about Barclay Spank, but I think you’ve had enough pun-ishment for today.

Barclay Spank came about when we realised how many terms banking and kink shared. The puntential was too much to resist. Thanks to Pascal Harper for his excellent bankink pun suggestions.

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.

Philtrum – God of Things That Are Right Under Your Nose

May 7, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Philtrum is normally associated with Monday mornings, but he also does post bank holiday Tuesdays. He is especially worshipped by persons over the age of forty and stressed people. Philtrum specialises in keys, pens, phones and anything you just put down a moment ago. He also does glasses on foreheads. One time when he couldn’t find his laurels, he was resting on them.

Temples of Philtrum are designed on a theme of “Lost Halves of Pairs”. The floor is carpeted with a quilt of odd socks, and the curtains are made from a textile collage of lost gloves. It is illuminated by chandeliers made from single earrings and cufflinks. There are many comfortable sofas upholstered with a fabric woven from shoelaces. The defences around the temple are fortified against infidels by having thousands of lost, single knitting needles set into the top of the wall pointing skywards.

The correct procedure for visiting a Temple of Philtrum is to walk in, stare blankly into space for a moment, meditate upon what it was you went in for, and then leave again quietly with the minimum possible embarrassment. If you do decide to stay a while, take a seat on one of the comfy sofas and contemplate what you are searching for. Then try reaching down the back of said sofa. Seek and ye may find if Philtrum sees fit to answer your prayers.

The priests of Philtrum are known as “Searchers”. They aspire to achieve vagueness in all things. The idea being that if you don’t know where anything is anyway, do you ever truly lose something? This only applies to the personal life of a devoted acolyte though. The priests also serve to help the lay congregation find what they have mislaid.

The sacred Book of Philtrum is called “The Libro de Claris”. The original copy has not been seen in years. They may have lent it to someone. The following is a short extract from the text:

Perdue, a man of the town, cried in his torment, “Oh mighty Philtrum! Have you seen my wallet? I know I had it only a moment ago.” And Philtrum replied, “Well, where did you last have it?”. Perdue said, “I put it down on the kitchen table, oh Lord, but it isn’t there now.” In his wisdom Philtrum spake, “Have you tried looking in the fridge?”. Perdue looked in the fridge, and by a divine miracle against all the physical laws of the universe, lo there was his wallet by the sausages. He cried, “Praise be to Philtrum! For now I shall be on time for my date and I am on a promise.”

Followers of Philtrum indicate their membership of the faith by carrying extra large ceremonial handkerchiefs… …which they can never find when they need them.

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.

Pondus Custoda – Goddess of Diet Clubs

May 4, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Pondus Custoda is the Goddess of those who seek a slimmer figure and of couples that have decided that “We” are going on a diet. In reality, she is more efficient at taking Pounds off you than at taking pounds off you. Worship of Pondus Custoda is incredibly popular for about three weeks every January, but then tails off throughout the year. There is often a brief resurgence of popularity in May. Groups of neophytes who join at this time are known as “The Summer Body”. Her divine consort is Jim – God of Memberships Which are Only Used Once.

Pondus Custoda does not have any dedicated temples. Instead groups of her followers will gather at a set time every week in a hired space. These spaces are sometimes within the temples of other Deities! The priestess brings with her the accoutrements of the ritual, including the Scales of Judgement, The Banner of Corporate Identity (bearing her motto “Numquam Relinquere”), and the Stall of Sacred Foods.

Should you attend a ritual of Pondus Custoda, it is advisable to drop any children you may have with you off at the pool first, and to wear light clothing. This will grant you the inner space and lightness of being required to fully appreciate the proceedings. As you enter, you first have to pass over the Scales of Judgement and be counted. Once one has completed this ordeal, one must then run the gauntlet of the Stall of Sacred Foods for sale. These are produced by the clergy. Due to their holy and blessed nature, these treats command a premium price. Each food is carefully calorie counted. Here you can purchase a chocolate bar that is only 90 calories. It is only 90 calories because it’s f***ing minuscule. However, since it is only 90 calories, you can probably have two. If one requires something fractionally more substantial, they also have their famous “Sawdust Bars”, “Salt and Vinegar Polystyrene Flakes” and “Bags of Dust – Teriyaki Flavour”. Should you miss this stall as you enter, do not fret. Your attention will be directed to it frequently though out the rest of the service.

Once the brief social period is concluded, the worshippers will gather on hard plastic chairs for a sermon by the High Priestess. This will contain highly questionable dietary advice and clumsy use of amateur psychology. Subtle erosion of the self-confidence of the congregation will also take place, to try and ensure they are not too successful in achieving their goals, and so keep coming back. Then the worshippers will form a “non-judgemental circle of judgement” and confess their syns to one another in a group therapy style. At the end of the service, the congregation usually stampedes to the nearest curry house or chip shop (the faster they run, the more points they earn to be consumed on arrival). These souls live in hope that they can expunge the effects of this “treat day” by the time of next week’s service.

One aspect of the rite, much loathed by followers, is the compulsory sacrifice of a piece of fruit to the acolyte who has lost the most body mass that week. This practice is so derided that, at one chapter in Yorkshire, they have been exchanging the same tin of Lidl Plum Tomatoes every week for over a year in protest.

Should an acolyte be spectacularly successful in achieving their goal weight against these odds, they will be lauded and feted by the church, and accede to a status akin to saint-hood. They will often be turned into a life sized cardboard cut-out icon (literally) and exhibited to inspire the flock.

In theory, religious service to Pondus Custoda is open to all genders. However, I have only ever seen priestesses. All priestesses are former acolytes who have gone through the programme and previously been successful, even though that success is not always well maintained. This is considered adequate training, and formal qualifications in nutrition, psychiatry and health care are not required. One tradition of the clergy of Pondus Custoda is their quirky pronunciation of the word “alcohol” as “alker-roll”.

The church of Pondus Custoda is often perceived as something of a cult. Join for a free trial, and you’ll soon be weigh in to it. Try to stop going, and you will receive an avalanche of post cards saying “wish you were here”, to send you on a guilt trip back to the true path. On return, you will have to pay a fine for your absence, the amount increasing for each week you were away (holiday weeks must be booked in advance). They take religious attendance even more seriously than Queen Elizabeth I did in 1558, and the fine is much higher than 12 pence a week. If you really want to leave, it is probably just easiest to move house.

Pondus Custoda was suggested by Di and Garth Oxley-Wilden. Thank you for this genius idea and for all your contributions to her development.

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.

Brabantia – Goddess of Tidiness

April 27, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

Brabantia has the most immaculate temples, which have a place for everything and everything in its place. The walls are lined floor to ceiling with shelves of storage caddies full of utensils. The grounds are gaily adorned with rotary prayer airers, which spin gently in the wind. Perhaps the most striking feature of the temple is the collection of 288 waste bins.

Followers of Brabantia believe that carrying out mundane household chores induces a transcendental meditative state through which wisdom and insight may be gained. Sacred music is used to accompany these tasks, and help achieve the desired state of mind. Her most famous hymns are “Another One Fights the Dust” and “Killer Clean”.

Upon death followers of Brabantia have their cremated remains neatly stored within the temple. Families can choose between a Roll Top or Fall Front “Dead Bin” in Metallic Mint, Passion Red, Clay Pink or Daisy Yellow.

The vestments of the clergy are always immaculately laundered and pressed. Their cleanliness is inspected before each ritual by a group of 3 senior priests known as “The Ironing Board”. They’d better wear them right, a priest who fails to meet the standards will do penance on the “Dish Rack”. Despite the threat of this, many youngsters aspire to be priests of Brabantia. One key duty of a priest is to clean the temple mirrors, and this is something a lot of young people can see themselves doing.

There are various sub-sects of Brabantia. One notable order is a desert dwelling group who practice abstinence from alcohol. They are known as “The Dry Cleaners”. All the various groups are overseen by the current High Priest, the Most Hygienic Bruce Springclean. He has absolute authority amongst his flock, everyone knows he’s the boss.

Should you transgress in the faith of Brabantia, you may be put on trial. In these trials, the priest or priestess will hold up the accused for the assembled congregation to see and say, “Does this still spark joy?”. Should you be found guilty the congregation will reply “NO!”, and you will be sold in a charity shop.

Brabantia resides in the mythical citadel of King’s Laundering where she sits on the “Ironing Throne”. (When you play this game of thrones you spin or you dry).

The motto of Brabantia is “Don’t put it down, put it away.”

Thank you to Ken Page for suggesting Brabantia.

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.

Drax – God of Power Stations

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

Drax is a huge, grey and imposing deity from Yorkshire. His most striking feature is that his skin is laced with and intricate web of blue-black coal dust tattoos. He is said to be one of the most powerful and efficient of all the gods. You might pray to him for the energy to cook your lunch, or for light to see your way in the dark. Initially he was not a very benevolent deity, raining his corrosive emissions on the just and the unjust alike. Then it was discovered that he could be somewhat pacified if they gave him plenty of scrubbers to help keep his flue nice and clean.

Drax was one of the later born deities and there was much speculation amongst the other gods about his paternity. They were all talking about his generation. Drax often thought of his unknown father and cried out to the heavens “Who are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?”.

The church of Drax is divided into two sects who work cooperatively. The Sect of Generation work to gain power for the organisation and the Sect of Transmission evangelise and spread the word. There are six levels of the hierarchy in the clergy of Drax, a structure that was established in the early days by the Viscount Weir-Wolfe. There is a single supreme head of the church “The 400kV” who ultimately joins all Draxians together. (The current 400kV is Daniel Ratcliffe, who succeeded Richard West-Burton.) The next step down are the 275kV High Voltage Priests or “Pylones”. They each serve a wide area and support and supply the lower grid of 132kV Priests who are responsible for serving smaller regions.

The lowest and largest order of the church are the faithful mass of domestic subscribers known as the 230V. Should you get the calling to serve Drax you have to complete three phases of training* as an AC-olyte and achieve harmonisation to become an 410V priest. If you are a powerful preacher, you might be “transformed” to become one of the 11kV priests who preach on an industrial scale. Recently, the Church of Drax was shocked by a scandal, when it was discovered that the AC-olytes from the Washington DC branch had been performing unsanitary acts for low remuneration.

There were many temples of Drax, but their numbers have dwindled to just seven in the UK. The principle, and largest of these temples is a mighty citadel called Khuling Towers, located conveniently just off the M62. Should you visit the temple to ask for a blessing, one must bring a sacrifice to burn. Skinflints might bring a sack of cheap lignite, but they should beware. Drax is likely to be displeased with this offering and make acidic emissions to show his chagrin. Should you be asking for something big, it is advised to not stint and bring a bag of finest anthracite (please don’t bring any coke, we don’t want him to develop a habit). For most everyday sacrifices, Drax is said to be happy with a nice bit of nutty slack. There have been recent moves towards sacrificing vegetable rather than fossil based offerings at rituals. These “Bio Masses” are increasingly taking over from the more traditional votives. During the rites one can enjoy the sacred music of Drax, much of which is composed by Brian Ferrybridge.

Temples of Drax are often surrounded by acres of Under-Glass horticultural industry. They use the second hand heat from the temple to ensure bumper crops. This agricultural anomaly is known as “The Greenhouse Effect”.

Occasionally Drax may do battle with the raging winds of the Sun God. The light from these battles sometimes illuminates the northern skies. Whilst he is engaged in battle, Drax may temporarily withdraw his power from our world. When these outages occur, worshippers of Drax will spontaneously light candles and engage in the impromptu fertility ritual called “Wellwehaventgotanythingbettertodo”.

The Sun God’s main weapon against Drax is Hydro the Renewable Dragon. Simultaneously a Water, Earth, Fire, Air dragon, it has multiple heads to accommodate this. It is said that the heads will regenerate if severed, making Hydro pretty much invincible. However, Hydro is not always around when you need them. Followers of Drax pessimistically believe that their God will eventually be defeated by Hydro, as his power will eventually run out before that of the Sun God. The previously mentioned Bio Mass experiments are an attempt to circumvent this prophecy and ensure Drax is there for years to come.

*you can complete these in any rotation.

Thank you to Pascal Harper for suggesting Drax and to Kate Karnage and John Kennard for further character development.

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.