Hatt Mancock – God of Ministerial Affairs

Hatt Mancock © H. Hudson-Lee 2021

Of all the mysteries of the cosmos, perhaps the most baffling is: When power is almost exclusively held by minging middle-aged white guys, how the hell does it still manage to be an aphrodisiac‽

Membership of the cult of Hatt Mancock is restricted those who hold the highest positions in government. The philosophy of this sect is, “If we make the rules, we don’t have to follow them.” They are renowned for their rampant hypocrisy. Its members are fond of imposing strict moral judgements on everyone else*. Whist other religions may appeal to their deity on a variety of subjects, every prayer to Hatt Mancock is, in essence, the same. “Please don’t let me get caught.” Who can forget their moving psalm, “Yay though I snog my aide in the shadow of a hat stand, shall I fear not Paparazzi, for though art with me, and with my rod in my staff I’m going to get busy.”

The temple of Hatt Mancock is housed in a collection of hidden rooms in Whitehall, known as the Profumo Suite. If you wish to enter, you must first gain permission from Cecil Parkinson, the keeper of the Keyes. Inside you will find the altar, an majestic, mahogany ministerial desk. If you look closely, you will see the faint imprint of buttocks on its highly polished surface. If, during your visit, you hear that the “Party Whip” is being brought out, don’t panic. It’s just a novelty one with fluffy tassels and a glittery handle.

The priests of Hatt Mancock are known as “Ministers”, and they are divided into ranks such as Junior Ministers and Under Secretaries. Ministers can be recognised by their ill-fitting suits, rosettes, and spread-legged power-pose stances. The Ministers work closely (much closer than two meters) with “Aides” who assist them. Apparently, an important aspect of the role of an Aide is sleeping with your Secretary (this is why they are always lay-members of the church). This has led to the creation of posts with titles like, “Secretary Under the Under Secretary”. Ministers can recruit new Aides, either from amongst their old university pals, or by using the discrete “MPHarmony” dating website and app. The Ministers are led by the “Minister Primus”, who holds the privilege of committing sexual impropriety without consequences. In fact, whenever the Minister Primus finds they are a little strapped for cash due to all their child support payments, they will get divorced and marry yet another wealthy mistress, a practice known as, “Cash & Carrie”.

In order to become a Minister of Hatt Mancock, one must first be a member of their youth organisation, the Bullshittingdon Club. In their distinctive uniform of navy tailcoats, these noble young bast… …ions of the faith, led by their “Flout Master”, will earn badges in skills such as Awkward Groping, Dirty Research Trip Planning, and “Badger Watching”. Just in case they are ever caught in flagrante delicto during their future Ministerial careers, the neophytes are also taught to weave elaborate excuses such as, “My Aide and I were near the coat stand when we heard a strange noise. She went to investigate when a host of biting ants flooded out of the coats, (attracted by a forgotten complimentary hotel biscuit in one of the pockets). They swarmed all over her, particularly the in area of the buttocks and some of them even entering her mouth. Naturally, I attempted to brush them off. As she had been repeatedly bitten around the lips, in an attempt to administer first aid, I tried to suck out the poison.” Or the simpler, “I was eating out to help out.”

It is a hard life being a Minister of Hatt Mancock. Excellent time management skills are essential so that you can simultaneously bugger up the response to a national crisis, award your mates juicy contracts, have a family and still have a bit on the side. Maintaining a work / double-life balance is so important.

From time to time, not even the protection of the god is enough to defend one of his Ministers from the public outcry over their transgressions. Many of those who are exposed are the mortal victims of the long running feud between Hatt Mancock and Paparazzi the God of Sleaze (whose followers like to hang around in the bushes outside Hatt Mancock’s temples with telephoto lenses or make friends with the security team who watch the CCTV). However, sometimes they are simply betrayed by the old-fashioned lipstick on the collar and lingering scent of her hand sanitiser. Once such a story hits the headlines, the Minister affected will initially attempt to maintain his position, but inevitably finds that his hip is giving out, so he can’t do it without a truss (and Liz has said she’s not touching that).

Next follows one of the most famous rituals of Hatt Mancock, “The Sack Race”. This is a rather different version from the old school sports day favourite. In this rite the disgraced Minister must rush Number 10 Downing Street to tender their resignation (for £37 billion, to a company run by their sibling’s spouse) before public pressure forces the Minister Primus to dismiss them (despite having previously declared the matter closed). So, ironically, betraying their family usually leads to a Minister spending a lot more time with them. It’s not forever though, the prize for winning the Sack Race is that you get to have another go at being a Minister again once the dust has settled.

* Who can forget their “Back to Basics” campaign in the 1990s? No one was quite sure at the time what these “basics” were, but we have since found out they probably included pegging.

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Wella Didwarnya – Goddess of “I Told You So”

Who could have foreseen that a Premier who wouldn’t wear a face mask during a global pandemic would wind up in hospital? If you did, then Wella Didwarnya is the deity for you!

Wella Didwarnya spontaneously came into existence within 15 minutes of the first human marriage. She grew in power as quickly as their first offspring grew into teenagers. She is also known as “The Lady of the Lake of Tears” and Icalledit. She walks the mortal world, watching for that potent combination of ignorance and hubris. When she finds it (and it never takes long), she can deliver devastating poetic justice faster than Karma can pull its socks on. Wella is always depicted with a slightly self-congratulatory countenance, described as a “resting smug face”. She is sometimes inaccurately described as “doe eyed”. In fact, what she has is hind sight.

Wella Didwarnya’s following is mainly comprised of historians, medical professionals, scientists, climate change activists, teachers, and exasperated parents. They are not prophets in the traditional “mystical vision” sense. They make their predictions using a combination of careful scrutiny of past events, experience, scientific method and analysis of firm data. This makes them 96.25% more accurate than your average oracle, and 99.9% less popular. Their predictions are almost never heeded due to Johnson’s Razor, which states that, “He who hates smart arses, is in the greatest need of smart arses.” One mystery of the universe her scholars have never been able to solve is why fascists call themselves the “Far Right” when they are so-far wrong.

When a follower of Wella has a particularly momentous prediction come true the whole congregation will celebrate with set of ceremonies known as, “The Gloating Rites”. These rituals commence all the worshippers retweeting the original prediction which proved to be correct, followed with the dancing of the “I Told You So” dance. The whole shebang concludes with the poignant “Minute’s Silence with an Old-Fashioned Look.”

The priestesses and priests of Wella Didwarnya work as dedicated archivists to maintain a library of literature and social media posts by notable people. Especially quotes from those folks who have a tendency to hold forth on subjects they have little knowledge of, (so mainly politicians and tabloid columnists). This prodigious resource is made accessible to all followers for quoting in #ThatAgedWell situations.  They are led by a High Priestess who focuses on predictions with potentially global consequences, such as climate change. She is known by the title, “The Inconvenient Ruth”.

The worshippers of Wella Didwarnya don’t always get everything right. A recent effort to be more magnanimous in victory, which involved sending a freshly baked pie to every person they repudiated, was very badly received. One virtue of followers of Wella is that they do try to learn from their mistakes. They deduced that the problem was using Spheniscus humboldti penguins as a filling. After all. No one likes eating Humboldt Pie.

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Idol Scribblings Volume One


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


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NEW!
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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.