Futon – God of Temporary Sleeping Arrangements

May 15, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ 1 Comment

Futon is the saviour of: gap year students, couch surfers, disgraced spouses, musicians on tour, inebriated post-party people, and guys who said something stupid and blew their chances after being invited in for coffee and the last bus. Also known as Zed, Camp or Murphy. He is also the God of Poor Compromises.

Futon is a deity who has wandered and explored the whole world with his jazz dot and djembe in search of himself. (Unless you have about three days to spare DO NOT ask him about it). He has absorbed aspects of many different cultures since his origin in Japan. Kind of like a collection of historic mattress stains from around the world. His appearance has become heavily westernised as his popularity has spread. He originally had two avatars “Shikifuton” and “Kakefuton”.

The way of Futon is a very fatalistic philosophy. They believe that; nothing really mattress, the way to achieve inner peace is to chair less and that flexibility in an uncertain world is key to being bedder than all the rest.

Futon’s temple is renowned for providing accommodation for the stranded and the needy day or night. If you attend a ritual or rite of worship at Futon’s temple you will be initially impressed at the seating provided for worshippers with it’s downy padding. However, this will somehow, magically become less and less pleasant over time. Unless you are under 25, you will leave the temple half crippled. In fact, if you are under 25 you will probably think Futon is pretty (sic.) sick, if you are over 25 you will probably find him to be a bit of a pretentious twat who makes you uncomfortable. However, when no other deity is available to give you spiritual rest, he is better than nothing. Just.

I strongly advise you not to heed the family planning guidance issued by Futon’s sect. It has been found to be woefully inaccurate. It is, in fact, still possible to get pregnant on a pull-out bed. (Although, Futon does have the power to make lovers disappear, and so may be effective in that way.)

There is a variation of Yoga associated with the worship of Futon. It only has two asanas “Sit” and “Lay”.

Thank you to Adam Broadhurst for suggesting Futon. As a touring musician with the excellent band Under a Banner, I believe he has a great deal of experience of this deity.

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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.

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.

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.

Teflonata – Goddess of Dangerous Ignorance

April 29, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ 1 Comment

In the early days of the universe, the God Oafish imposed himself upon kindness of the Goddess Vacuous and to them the Goddess Teflonata was born. As a child Teflonata was shielded from any communal education that might contain dangerous ideas. Such as the notion that her parents might not have created the universe and everything in it, that there might be more than two genders or that the earth may be spherical. This careful upbringing left her powerfully impervious to reasoned argument.

The dogma of Teflonata is not so much a list of things you must believe, as a rule about whether or not you should believe any new information you encounter. This basically boils down to believing it if it comes from a man in the pub, a tabloid, Fox News, a click-bait article or alternative health website. If it comes from a reputable source then DON’T TRUST A WORD OF IT!

Followers of Teflonata are useful self-operating propaganda for the oligarchy. Say a miserly company owner does not wish to fork out for expensive safety precautions. All they need do is to inform the followers of Teflonata amongst the workforce that this would be “Health and Safety gone mad”. They will obediently repeat this mantra over and over until the entire workforce wants their role to have “MORE DANGER DAMMIT”! The sacred text of Teflonata is a dictionary with the word “Gullible” removed.

The church of Teflonata seeks to have a very loud say over how people live their lives, even those outside the faith. Especially if you are a woman. They know best what you should be doing with your body and how you should behave, not you! Perhaps the most notable sub-sect of Teflonata are the Antivaxxers. They follow and preach the writings of Andrew of Wakefield (which have been discredited by everyone else) slavishly and with blind devotion. Growing up in the Antivaxxer sect is perilous as they have parenting theories that would make a Spartan say, “Wow! That’s a bit harsh.” According to their beliefs it is better to have a child that can’t walk (or show vital signs) as long as they aren’t autistic*.

The clergy of Teflonata are known as “Trolles”. They are ranked in seniority based on how orange they are. The majority of their preaching work is carried out online. There is one branch of the priesthood solely engaged in incorrecting Wikipedia articles. The only branch which practice an active vocation are the “Homeopaths”. Their clinic advertises that cures for cancer which do not involve surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy. There the infirm can pay a fortune to relax in pleasant surroundings, sipping their “Memory Water” whilst gazing through the window at the large and picturesque cemetery outside.

If you wish to petition the Goddess Teflonata for something, it is said one should make a pilgrimage to the edge of the world and throw an offering of a packet of Orbit chewing gum into the void of space.

Should you pass a temple of Teflonata, look upwards, and you will see the Union flag proudly flying upside down. (They do not have planning permission for this flagpole, nor are they aware that they need it.) Above the entrance the motto “In Volumen Veritas” is carved into the stonework. Do not visit her temple if you are actually knowledgeable on any subject. Teflonites have an abject terror of “Experts”. Should you accidentally let slip that you have an IQ to a Teflonite, they will probably throw salt at you. They believe this is the best way to ward off snowflakes. This is why I cannot tell you anything about the inside of the temple. I have never been allowed in.

*I asked once. They didn’t actually know what autism is.

Thank you to Ju Haynes for suggesting Teflonata and to Dave Redford, Nigel Harper for chipping in some top pun suggestions. Kudos to Dave for punning in Latin.

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.

Gelatine – Goddess of Wobbly Desserts

April 23, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

A Goddess set in a perfect mould. One is always certain when one has seen a vision of Gelatine – because Jam don’t shake like that. In her mythology she seduces allsorts of unsuspecting mortals to bear an army of children, known as the Geli Babies. She raises and trains these demi-god warriors to fight the demons Aspic and Vegan. She is not a goddess to be trifled with. When not procreating and waging war she resides on a remote dessert aisle.

Her temples are delicate architectural shells that are sometimes made of plastic, ceramic or glass. However, the highest of her churches are always made of brilliant burnished copper. The shapes vary, but interconnected ascending domes and sweeping arches are common themes. The altar is always laden with a display of delectable dessert offerings. The altar constantly gently oscillates by means of a cunning concealed mechanism. During a typical rite at one of Gelatine’s temples, one will partake of a communion of bread and wine gums.

Gelatine has a somewhat rubenesque priesthood. They will daily engage in at least an hour of meditative jiggling. This is said to be quite a sight to see. The High Priestess or Priest is known as “The Great Haribo”. The high priest has exclusive access to air travel in the church’s Jellycopter which can often be seen wobbling through the sky as The Great Haribo goes about the Goddess’ work. The current Great Haribo is called Mr Gerry Bean.

Gelatine the kind of deity one often finds where one least expects her to be. She is also a guardian of medicines and washing detergent. However, she not an all powerful deity. She is vulnerable to water, high temperatures and pineapples.

In pre-congregation times she was Christianised and later appropriated by the Roman Catholic Church as St Blancmange.

Thank you to Pascal Harper for suggesting Gelatine.

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.

Euros – God of Money One Does Not Have

April 18, 2019October 15, 2020 ~ Hannah ~ Leave a comment

In his origin story Euros was created by Karma-Ron, who abandoned him shortly after his birth. He was picked up and raised by the mythical beast Mai-Botte, who tried to help him overcome his psychological issues of abandonment to grow up to be both strong and stable. However, despite her intentions, his guardian failed to take any real action to guide his development. In the end, hopelessly unprepared to face the world, Euros put off leaving home again and again.

Euros became a prodigal son who spurned his supportive wider family. He ambivalently rejected them when he was deceived into believing that the relationship cost him more than he gained from it by the demons Borriz and Gové. The argument over the terms of this separation continued for years, until the patience of his kin was exhausted and they threw him out with nothing. He was cast into isolation in the wilderness where he was taunted by the ignorant opinions of the three “Ghosts of Dreams that Never Were”. These three malevolent spirits are individually named “Pierced Organ”, “Hatie Cockpins” and “Jerkoff Greased-Hog”.

The temples of Euros ring with raised voices. They are of somewhat variable construction quality, and some wings are held together with strained red tape. Every time they try to conduct repairs, someone breaks it. On the altar sit 22 sealed and numbered red boxes which contain a deal of mystery.

During rituals at Euros’ temples, a libation of tea is poured in offering and then the remainder shared amongst the congregation. Tea is considered sacred to Euros because tea leaves. The liturgy will then be read out. This may seem to be nonsense at first, but don’t worry. The officiating priest will repeat it more and more slowly and increasingly loudly UNTIL YOU UNDERSTAND. At the end of the rite the priest will bid farewell to his flock with the words “See EU later”. His sacred texts were displayed on the sides of political campaign busses, until people realised they were bollocks.

You can only join the priesthood of Euros if you have a protruding navel. You must also have a stoic philosophy and be capable of cussedly sticking with a course of action, even when everyone else can see that it is a path to destruction. Priests can be recognised by their head wear. They will sport either a fried egg or a pineapple ring on their heads. Vestments are very important to the priests, and each will have a changing cabinet to facilitate the necessary sartorial standard. Debating is a key skill for a priest of Euros to have. They are capable of arguing for years with nothing resolved. When not on duty, they do enjoy kicking back with a game of chequers.

Be very wary of incurring the wrath of Euros. When angered he is capable of raining a ferment of acidic bile down on his hapless target. These tempests are known as “Farages”. Sadly, Euros is rarely a wise or fare judge, and has often wrongly attacked the victim of the situation.

Thank you to Jen Titley for suggesting Euros.

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.