Chilly Sanders – God of the Nesh

Chilly Sanders – God of the Nesh © H. Hudson-Lee 2021

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

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Tantrump – God of Sore Losers

Tantrump is the god of people who petulantly wail, “That’s not fair! I want a do-over!” whenever they don’t win. He is a deity of denial that Ancient Egypt wants nothing to do with. Tantrump was born the son of the Juan Perscent, God of Obscene Wealth, and Privilegina the Goddess of Entitlement. Despite his august parentage, after the age of 13 Tantrump was raised by schools. That is so much worse than being raised by wolves (at least wolves have been known to show affection). As an adult god he turned a strange shade of orange when he became the first painted idol to use creosote. It is thought that this came about because he wanted to emulate Croesus, but badly misread the name. Tantrump resides in a towering celestial Palace made entirely and tastelessly of gold. (If you think that sounds nice, stop for a moment to imagine how cold his toilet seat is.) It is situated in the centre of a large golf course, encircled by a huge wall. Who payed for the wall? Everyone paid for the wall… …to keep him in.

Tantrump’s priests and priestesses are all said to be descendants of the God, fathered on an unfortunate succession of mortal supermodels, known as the “Mama Lagos”. The high priest is always the eldest of the god’s children and is known by the title “Junior”. They don’t sing any hymns in this religion, because nothing rhymes with orange.

The festival of Tantrump officially begins on the 3rd of November with a vote to select a new chief of the Gods. The following four days are known as the Schrödinger’s President’s Days. When Tamtrump is in a metaphysical state of being both victorious and not victorious, and remains a quantum uncertainty until all the ballot boxes are opened. On the first two days Tantrump’s worshippers will claim success and celebrate before the race is fully run, whilst the rest of the world sits nervously wearing out their F5 key. On the third day, when things are no longer going their way, worshippers of Tantrump will start crying foul without any evidence of untoward shenanigans. On this day the priests will conduct a ritual to summon the asymmetrically blonde bobbed abyssal beast known as “The Karenken”. The Karenken, once summoned, demands to speak to the poll managers, the Supreme Court, and failing that screams into the void of social media. It can be recognised by its distinctive cry of “Stop the Count” and its vicious attacks on Usps the messenger of the gods.

Finally, on the fourth day, news of Tantrump’s defeat arrives. At first he refuses to accept the result, but not even Four Seasons Total Landscaping can fix this landslide. At the climax of the festival, Tantrump’s head explodes in an apoplexy of hubris and bile. This makes America gay again and the people of the wider world rejoice with them. Redefining the term a “Grand Old Party”. Together they see off the shell of the defeated deity with cheerful cries of “Bi den!” The last rite of the festival takes place two years later, when Nevada finally delivers its results. This delay is thought to be due to the “What happens in Vegas” effect. Officially the festival is meant to take place every four years, but right now everyone feels a bit like that would be a bit too soon to go through all this again.

Thank you to Gareth Wilden for suggesting Tantrump.

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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!
IDOL SCRIBBLINGS COMMISSIONS


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I can turn your friend, relative or even you pet into a humorous Idol Scribblings cartoon. They make a perfect gift!

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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.