Beelzebublé is the ancient deity of festive music. He was born in a Holly Wood, the son of the Dryad of a Norway Spruce tree and Dansette the God of Pop Music. He is made entirely from saccharine and sleigh bells and subsists on mistletoe and wine. He is loathed by all workers in the retail sector, but his mellifluous tones, twinkling eyes and benign countenance make it a high probability that he is your grandmother’s favourite deity.
Beelzebublé’s divine province is all commercial seasonal music. Throughout the millennia he has represented the sounds of many different festivals. These have all tended to occur in that drear but somehow magical mid-winter month. In the last millennia (and especially since the twentieth century) he has focused mainly on Christmas related music. Whilst his music is usually deeply traditional sometimes, to try and freshen things up a bit, Beelzebublé will team up with another artiste. The guest artist will loudly recite rhythmic poetry during the bridge of the song inciting listeners to “Slap Yo Glitz Up”. This distinct genre is known as “Wrap Music”.
The Temple of Beelzebublé is located on the Slade Roade in Birmingham, right next to Spaghetti Junction. Its grounds preserve a remnant of magical ancient forest known as “Roy Wood”. Constructed from gingerbread, the temple has a single high tower which soars above its roof. Each year on December the first, the high priest Noddy Holder will ascend the tower and yell out “IT’S CHRIIIIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAAS!” to call the faithful to prayer. It’s not all fun and games for the high priest though. Above his ceremonial snow covered throne hangs a long and wickedly sharp blade, suspended from a single slender thread of lametta. This is the Sword of Whamocles. If so much as the first bar of the song “Last Christmas” is heard in the temple, the tenuous tinsel thread will snap.
In the centre of the Temple of Beelzebublé hangs their most holy relic, The Golden Fleece Navidad. This sparkling pelt is said to be from a sheep that lived in a random stable in the middle east somewhen between 6BCE and 4BCE. This golden sheep was said to have broken out and wondered the streets of the town one day singing out season’s bleatings to everyone it met. Astounded by this miraculous musical ovine, the townspeople promptly sacrificed it. Because that’s just what you did in those days. Its fleece was later “liberated” and installed in the temple by the mythical hero Jason of Erinsboros. It is displayed draped over a Nordmans Fir and guarded by a Tinsle Snake with huge bauble eyes. This sparkly serpentine guardian cannot sleep. It is too excited because Santa is coming.
In the tiny Cornish village of Porth Noel, Beelzebublé has a workshop filled with song writing elves. During the Christmas hit heydays of the 70’s and 80’s they used to be esteemed, well cared for and cherished. As a result they would regularly turn out a genuinely catchy, uplifting and original festive hit song.
In the last decade the relentless drive of run-away capitalism has meant that these elves have seen their working hour’s increase, their sherry benefits evaporate and their pensions quietly siphoned away. It’s plum duff being an elf these days. These dreadful conditions have extinguished the last sparks of creativity from their souls. They are reduced to laboriously churning out album after album filled entirely with arrangements of festive covers which aren’t quite as good as the original. These albums always include one predictable paint-by-numbers attempt at a new seasonal opus. Thrown in to make it look like they tried. Budgets are squeezed so tight that they have pawned most of their instruments and now they have to rely on samples from the 1970s. Please, please spare a thought for these pitiful wretches this season when you are buying your Nan a copy of “The Christmas Present”.
There are three sub-groups of elves who receive special treatment. The first is comprised of mutant elves who have super-elf gifts and so are chosen for the elite team. Their task is to write or arrange the song that will be released by that year’s X Factor winner. Due to their elevated status, these X-Elfs are deeply unpopular with the rest of the elven populous, who have scathingly nicknamed them “The Sycos”. The second sub division are the elves who edit down songs into a convenient soundbite for the John Lewis advert. They are known as the Jingle Elves. The third are the Union elves who are being punished for the incident when they raged against the mainstream music machine. They have been yoked with the Sisyphean task of finding an inoffensive two syllable rhyme for “Maggot” which doesn’t sound stupid. These poor souls are in constant Poguetory.
Beelzebublé lives in constant fear that his reign as number one may be ended at any moment by a heart-warming community choir or by some bloke singing about sausage rolls for charity. However, the years when Beelzebublé does not do well are few, and in those years we are usually living in a mad world.
Beelzebublé had nothing whatsoever to do with “All I Want For Christmas is You”. He may be a little bit evil, but he’s not a total monster.
Thank you to Sarah Shepton for the idea for the Sword of Whamocles.
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