The Deaver is a dramatic aquatic mammal. Known for being temperamental, with a tendency towards flouncing. The Deaver doesn’t give a dam what you think.
Thank you to Tom Overrill for suggesting the Deaver.
Oxymoron is the god of military intelligence, and watches over all spies, agents and analysts who play the espionage game. He is the perfect deity for anyone who was born yesterday, but thinks they were Bourne yesterday. The ethos of the faith is that, if we all know each other’s secrets but pretend that we don’t, an uneasy peace on earth can be maintained. Despite all their efforts, the devotees of Oxymoron have experienced many embarrassing failures in their missions over the years. Such as the time the Australian sect were resoundingly outwitted by a herd of emus, or all the time that the American branch watched too many Wile E Coyote cartoons and tried to assassinate Fidel Castro with an ACME exploding cigar. (However, Oxymoron’s followers cannot really be blamed for the “Bush Shoe Throwing Incident”. After all, the assailant was inclognito.)
Oxymorons believe that the first time they die they will be reincarnated. Just the one time though, as you only live twice (or so they say). Upon their second death they believe that their souls will go to Double O Heaven (which is just like normal heaven, but at a scale of 1:76.2). It is said that the faith was founded by Agent Ian Flemming, a theological operative who was so stealthy that, to this day, most people think he discovered penicillin. Oxymoron’s sacred animal is the mole.
Each country has its own sect or “Agency” of Oxymoron. These separate organisations rarely officially interact and are deeply suspicious of one another. In reality, some agents of Oxymoron work for more than one country’s sect. It is very hard to discourage people from becoming double agents. Mainly because anyone opting for this route ends up getting twice the pay for half the work.
The British agency of Oxymoron is known as MI6 (they decided not to number the agencies with roman numerals after it was pointed out that MI6 would then be easily confused with a popular strawberry ice cream lolly). It is led by a high priest who holds the title of “Premium Bond”. Their temple is located somewhere near the remote upland village of Dalton Moore. The main entrance to the temple is vigilantly guarded by a heavily armed punk agent with a plethora of body modifications. Anyone trying to invade of infiltrate the temple will have to get passed Pierced Brosnan. Therefore, you will not be surprised to hear that very little is known about the inside of the temple. The one thing I can tell you, is that in the centre of the temple stands a beautiful Aspydistra, which was a gift from a visiting ambassador. It is known by the members of the faith as “The Obvious Plant”. The temple upkeep is paid for with money raised by manufacturing and selling dried pasta quills, which they call “Money Penne”.
Potential new priests or “Agents” of Oxymoron are usually recruited over a quiet glass of sherry and must then undergo years of rigorous training. The first lesson they must attend is Camouflage and Disguise 101 (anyone marked as present on the register automatically fails). Then they must decode the sacred texts of Oxymoron, memorise the contents and then eat them. Teamwork is essential, so throughout their instruction, the novices get regular nights out together at casinos and cocktail bars (these Bonding moments are so important). Once they have passed the initial basic training, each agent will receive a plain white suit. The neophyte agent will be surprised by this, as the regulation garb of an agent of Oxymoron is a plain black suit. The confused trainee often asks, “Do you expect me to wear a white suit?” The response to which to which is always, “No. We expect you to dye.” The agent then usually asks if this needs to be done today, only to be told, “No. Dye another day.” Once they have graduated to full agents, it is common for priests of Oxymoron to travel around their target country in the guise of a company of actors, dancers or musicians on tour. This tactic popular tactic is known as “thespionage”.
Even less is known about the churches of Oxymoron in other countries. However, I can tell you that the Russian branch of the church is said to be headed by Cardi B’s sister Cagey. Also, I have heard chatter that the American priests of Oxymoron have spent the last eight years focusing their attention on an allotment in North Wales. I think they are hoping to track down source of the Snowden Leeks.
With thanks to @ladysixa for bringing it to my attention that IdolScribblings.blog has been blocked on US defense servers and to Kat Collier and Alex Smith for subsequently requesting a deity of military intelligence and generally egging me on.
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Wigan, the deity of Pie and Pi, is without pier amongst the gods. He, and his divine consort Ashet exist in a pattypantheon of their own. Beloved by mathematicians, bakers and gourmets alike, who see him as the sauce of all goodness (mint sauce to be precise). He is the only god who has managed to calculate the circumference, surface area and volume of the celestial spheres. His followers have no time for other religions, they believe that only their god is pukka. They believe that Wigan created the first man from pastry dough, and then crafted the first woman from one of the man’s kidneys. Later in the tale, the woman is tempted to eat the Apple Pie of Knowledge by a serpent. This is known as the Snake and Kidney theory of creation.
The cult of Wigan is divided into two sects. The high church for the upper crust, and the low church (affectionately known as Greggs) for everyone else. What all followers of Wigan agree on is their violent opposition to anyone calling some stew with a little puff pastry hat a “pie”. According to them, this dish should more correctly be called an “Anathema”. They also strive to reject and thwart the upstart false idol “Tau” at every turn. (Tau thinks he’s twice as good as the God of Pi).
The priesthood of Wigan are renowned for their great pie-ety. A neophyte must study baking and mathematics for many years before being accepted into this circle. Their final assessment hinges on writing a scholarly paper about pies with sweet fillings, known as a “dessertation”. Many lay folk think that someone must be irrational to want to train as a priest of Wigan. In truth, they are just really turned on by geometry or, as the Wiganites describe, it “pisexual”. The priesthood are led by a triumvirate, currently these leaders are Sir Cumference (also known as Number 3), Ms Di Ameter (Number 1) and Mr Ray Deus (Number 4). They are the three significant figures of the faith. Other important figures in the cult are Pontius Pielot (whose job it is to make sure worshippers wash their hands before breaking a crust together), Magnum Pi (who is their head of temple security or “crustodian”), the Pied Piper (head of music) and Crustifex Maximus (the chef de cuisine). In their quest to push the boundaries of human knowledge, the priesthood of Wigan divided the circumference of the moon by its diameter, and the circumference of the earth by its diameter. They were disappointed to discover that there was absolutely no difference between Earth Pi and Moon Pi.
Circus clowns are considered to be paladins of the faith, and a custard pie fight is a holy war. Many famous painters have been inspired to depict the devastation that ensues. So at least it puts t’art on t’walls.
The temple of Wigan is similar in shape to the Royal Albert Hall. Unlike the Albert Hall, an elegant ceramic chimney pot rises from the centre of its roof which is styled to look like a singing bird. When the priests are baking, the smoke of their ovens rises from its upstretched beak. The architecture is decorated throughout with little fleur de lys motifs. As you enter you will see a sign by the door that says, “No Pies Are Left in This Temple Overnight”. Once inside you will see that the interior is dominated by a large statue of Wigan which urinates hot, rich gravy. This holy work of art is known as the “Mannequin Pi”. In front of this fountain stands the altar. A two legged stone table, with one leg straight and the other elegantly curved. If you plan to visit the temple, be advised that all worshippers are required to leave an offering on the altar in a small disposable foil tray. You are also strongly advised to wear a wipe clean hat as the temple is also home to Wigan’s flock of four and twenty sacred blackbirds.
The great festival of Wigan is celebrated on the 14th of March every year. This involves a rite where many pies are brought forth to be shared by the congregation. Before they are eaten, the officiating priest chops 1 and 1/3 of the pies into square chunks (in other words, 4/3 Pie are cubed). This is all done to the accompaniment of a choir singing the holy number (a performance which never ends). The ritual ends with the priest declaring, “Rejoice! Crust is risen! Go in mushy peas.”
Happy Pi Day everyone!
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
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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.
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It surprises many people to learn that there is still a place for religion in the normally rational minds of the scientists and engineers who explore the universe. It turns out that when you are attempting to land equipment worth $2.7 billion on a hostile lump of rock 33.9 million miles away which is hurtling through space at five and a half thousand miles an hour, even the most hardened atheist REALLY needs someone to pray to. Percy is universally worshipped by the members of space programmes all around the world, and as a result has many different names such as Chang’e in China. Percy is believed to have first originated in the former Soviet countries in 1957 where he was known as ‘Nik. In those early days there wasn’t so much a “word of god” as a “pattern of bleeps of god”. This could be detected for three weeks until the batteries ran out. Kind of like an orbiting celestial smoke alarm.
Whilst any space enthusiast may worship Percy, achieving entry into the high echelons of the faith is tough. Other than a scientific mind, the three character traits that you are required display are curiosity, seizing opportunity and perseverance. These senior members are the ones who design, build and guide the missions, lead by their High Priest, J. Peal. Worshippers of Percy consider the first probe sent to any planet to be a sacrifice. It’s first purpose is to appease the god and secondly to send back just enough data before it’s hard landing to enable his followers to build a second probe which is able to survive. It took many sacrifices before mankind was able to come in peace rather than coming in pieces.
Despite their intrepid nature, there are some corners of the solar system which followers of Percy fear to explore. The planet of Venus was considered cursed after its acidic atmosphere, high temperatures and atmospheric pressure destroyed mission after mission. When potential chemical signs of life were eventually discovered there, excitement had to be tempered, as scientists realised that these organisms may well have been carried from earth on the first failed probes. From this we can infer two things. Firstly that some bacteria are evidently more resilient that our early space engineering, and secondly that humanity may have inadvertently created a completely new kind of venereal disease. The other planet in our solar system that the worshippers of Percy have never sent a probe to is Uranus. The sole reason for this is that they know the world’s press would be unable to resist calling the project an “Anal Probe”, and no one feels like giving them the satisfaction.
One of the driving ambitions of the followers of Percy is to find evidence of life elsewhere in the universe. To this end the priests of Percy inscribed a gold disc with sacred sigils which, if decoded, will guide the reader to earth. Then they sent it forth on a voyage through the universe. It may be a very long time before any alien race gets in touch as a result of the information on that disc. Partly because of the astronomical distances involved and partly because it will take even the most intelligent species about a millennia to decode it*. When, finally, we do find evidence of other life in the universe, we may need to broaden our definition of a living thing. Who knows? Maybe some of the bodies we thought were just lumps of rock flying through space are actually living entities! If so, let me be the first to raise my voice to campaign for meteor rights.
The priests of Percy don’t have much truck with the idea of an afterlife. They believe that when they die, their papers will be secured by the government and kept secret for thirty years.
*If they manage to listen to what’s on the other side, they may arrive on Earth saying, “Take us to your leader, Johnny B. Goode”.
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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.
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Everyone knows at least one person who is always complaining that they feel cold. These folk are known as, “The Nesh*”. Chilly Sanders is the god who watches over these perpetually parky people. You don’t have to be cool to worship him, but it helps. If, whilst on the beach on a scorching summers day, you spy someone bundled up in a duffle coat and tartan travel rug, they are very likely to be a disciple of Chilly Sanders. If you were to say, “Winter is Coming” to his acolytes they would look at you askance. For them, winter is already here. Despite their sensitivity to the slightest chill, you will still find his followers out and about at all the big events. They like to feel the freeze and do it anyway.
Chilly Sanders’ mythology is said to originate all the way back in the last ice age, which his sacred texts refer to as “The Age of Shivery”. He is said to be the progeny of the Arthrites the God of Aches and Stiffness and Zephbrrrr the Goddess of Cold Drafts. Sadly, his parents’ relationship did not last long following Chilly’s conception. The deal breaker was that Zephbrrrr kept putting her cold feet on Arthrites whilst they were in bed. Statues of Chilly Sanders always show him to be (like Theseus) hypolispos, or “buttockless”. This is said to symbolically represent the fact that he is always freezing his arse off.
The temple of Chilly Sanders is in Burrrrrrrlington, Vermont. When a non-believer enters the temple of Chilly Sanders their face will instantly melt. This is not due to any Indiana Jones style ancient curse. It is simply because the temple is always maintained at a toasty 38oC by the gargantuan five jet Robinson-Willey gas fire, in which burns their sacred eternal flame. On entering the temple, each worshipper is greeted by the priests with a rousing chorus of, “Put the wood in the hole! Were you born in a barn?” The worshipper will then hang their cap on one of the impressive temple hat pegs. The priesthood can be recognised by the sacred giant knitted mittens which they must wear at all times. The church undertakes lots of good works in the community. These include supplying hot meals daily to the vulnerable. They fund this endeavour by manufacturing much sought after t-shirts bearing the image of the god.
Whilst worshippers of Chilly Sanders may be of any age. However, the majority of the flock are either of the venerable persuasion or hail from warmer climes. The only people excluded from the faith are teenagers who whinge about being cold but won’t put a sweater on. People from Newcastle-upon-Tyne are technically welcome to join. It’s just that none of them ever have.
Members of the faith who are still of working age are afflicted by a terrible curse which follows them throughout their careers. In any office where they are employed, they will always somehow end up sat at the desk next to someone who is menopausal. The most common cause of premature death amongst Sanderians is touching the thermostat.
The faith of Chilly Sanders has many famous philosophical proverbs. Perhaps the best known is, “Cast ne’er a clout. Period.”
* Nesh = A norther dialect word meaning someone who is susceptible to feeling cold. There is no other synonym for this word in English! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nesh
Idol Scribblings Volume Two OUT NOW!
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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.
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Solobrate is the celestial guardian of anyone celebrating their birthday under quarantine conditions. Her followers are sensible, ordinary folk who make small personal sacrifices for the protection of their loved ones and community. This may sound dour, but in fact the faith encourages it’s worshippers to enjoy their special day in any way they safely can. Solobratians have a saying, “Don’t go out. Go all out!” Naturally, this deity has no temples or shrines. Her faithful never gather together. The rite to praise her is always practiced alone (or with your bubble) and at home.
In order to carry out the Solobrate Birthday Ritual you will need a little forward planning. You are going to need to purchase some fizzy wine for the libation. Make sure you order this to be delivered well in advance as a frivolous last minute trip to the shops could get you proseccocuted. Be sure to select a good vintage, aged to perfection, like yourself. Many people decorate the sacred space for the rite with balloons, cards and flowers sent by long distance loved ones. (However, if you are lucky enough to be locked down with a significant other, you may want to suggest that instead of spending their breath blowing balloons, they blow you instead.)
On the day of your birthday, don the fluffy ceremonial robe and seat yourself comfortably in your favourite spot with the “Sceptre of Ultimate Power” (a.k.a. The Remote Control) grasped firmly in your hand. Alternatively, one can wear one’s Birthday Suit (this is probably the only year since the age of three that you are going to be able to get away with it). Some of the most devout followers will paint their faces for the ritual using a special deep cleansing paint made of Dead Sea Mud and kumquat extract*. Next it is time to order your favourite take-away and feast like a really peckish Roman. Make sure your food order is over £20 to ensure you receive the free poppadoms or prawn crackers. You can use these unsolicited sundries as an offering to the goddess. The feast should conclude with a luscious cake consumed entirely to oneself. This cake is sanctified by lighting the sacred flame of Solobrate atop it for a few moments whilst singing “Happy Birthday to Me”. (Traditionalists will bake and eat a cake shaped like a clock for their birthday. I am told this is a fun and time consuming activity.) Now open the wine you ordered earlier and toast yourself until you could melt cheese on your forehead. At this stage of the proceedings, many worshippers get a little emotional. Missing absent friends and loved ones. Remember, it’s okay to not to be okay. This is your ritual and you can cry if you want to. The ritual concludes when you pass out in a satiated soggy heap.
This year, don’t worry about whether getting older makes you wiser. If you have the sense to stay at home for your pandemic birthday, you are already very, very wise.
*Rinse off with clean, fresh water after 15 minutes. Then apply moisturiser .
Solobrate is dedicated to everyone who has and will have a lockdown birthday. Especially my wonderful Mum, proof reader and all round saint, Teresa. Happy Birthday, love to you all and stay safe. Xxx
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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.
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