Sunday 22 June 2008

Fresh Goat?


Another summer solstice is behind us and Judy’s best linen is back in the cupboard with only minor chutney damage. As we all stood around in the back garden two evenings ago, wrapped in our ceremonial robes and declaring our love for the Moon and Sun Goddesses, I felt completely at ease with the world. Life is often trying and unfair to men of good looks and talent. Some of us are unfairly singled out for abuse. Yet it’s reassuring to know that Mother Sun is always there to ensure we’re tanned to at least a Madeley Factor of 4. I suppose that’s why those of us in the druid faith are always happy in each other’s company. There’s really no mood better than that of a group of celebrities when there’s a goat to offer up on the high altar of light entertainment.

Which is why it struck me as odd that Stephen Fry looked so intense as he walked around the garden waving a large wooden baton.

‘Ah,’ said Stephen, ‘’tis I, Fry, with my ceremonial fertility cane, hewn from the finest Brazilian hardwood and guaranteed to deliver fecundity to all who fall under it.’

‘You mean it’s a stick of procreation?’

‘You might say that,’ said he, directing randomly towards David Dickinson.

‘I really wish you wouldn’t do that,’ I said, jumping in the way of the stick. ‘There are lots of people here but the last one I’d like to see frisky is Dickinson.’

‘I do not choose,’ said Stephen. ‘’Tis the stick that chooses whose loins will be blessed this summer eve.’

And with that he was off, this time to worry the already pregnant Billy Piper with his cane.

I left Stephen to his shamanism and slipped over to the buffet table where Sir Clive James was struggling to get some of Judy’s homemade chutney off his ceremonial gown.

‘I’m a mess,’ wheezed the Great One. ‘I’ll never be able to look a vestal virgin in the face. I have chutney where chutney should never tread.’

I gave him a slap on the back. ‘Cheer up, Clive. It’s not every year that you get to be the one to deliver the final blow to our ceremonial goat.’

‘But the chutney,’ said Clive. ‘I can’t slaughter an animal looking like this. And what will Judy say? Goat blood might not be the only life essence to flow by the close of play.’

‘Spare me the chutney,’ I replied. ‘Just think. You’ll soon be awash with the fresh arterial spray of the best Norfolk goat that money can buy. You should look forward to that.’

‘Ah, Richard,’ said Sir Clive, looking at me over his glasses in that way that reminds you of the great intellect at work behind that magnificent brow of his. ‘You know how to cheer a fellow up. I feel moved to write you a poem, perhaps in three stanzas and with end rhymes.’

‘I can do even better than that,’ I said. ‘Go and stand near Stephen. One wave of his stick and you’ll feel positively chirpy about the world and the vestal virgins won’t stand a chance with you. Nor will the goat, if I’m honest. But there you have the Great Circle of Life. You can’t have everything.’

And that, on this Sunday morning, is the message I want to send out to all my friends in the druid community. I know you were disappointed that neither Judy nor I could be with you at Stonehenge the other day, but we promise to make up for it next year.

These things are foretold in the Book of Raj, as lifted from the Book of Stanley.

'Shabna Grithalda Vertiga Madeley Vespa.'

21 comments:

Raj P said...

These things are foretold in the Book of Madeley, as lifted from the Book of Fry.

Dr. Raj said...

These things are foretold in the Book of Madeley, as lifted from the Book of Fry.

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

Dear God. How many of you clones are there?

This could quite easily get out of hand.

Dr. Raj said...

Dear God. How many of you clones are there?

This could quite easily get out of hand.

Anonymous said...

Dear God. How many of you clones are there?

This could quite easily get out of hand.

Raj P said...

Dear God. How many of you clones are there?

This could quite easily get out of hand.

Anonymous said...

Dear God. How many of you clones are there?

This could quite easily get out of hand.

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

This has clearly got out of hand.

Anonymous said...

This has clearly got out of hand.

Dr. Raj said...

This has clearly got out of hand.

Anonymous said...

.dnah fo tuo tog ylraelc sah sihT

Anonymous said...

Dick & Dr.Raj, as Druids are polytheistic, should'nt you be saying..."Dear Gods" ?

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

Anonymous, you are of course correct. Except I'm only a druid when wearing Judy's linen. The rest of the time I go into bat for the C of E.

I can't speak for Dr. Raj but, as far as I know, he isn't a druid.

Anonymous said...

I'm not a druid.

Raj P said...

I am a druid.

Dr. Raj said...

I'm not a druid.
I am a druid.

Anonymous said...

It should say something about the fact how much I miss Stephen Fry's podgrams when I dont mind reading about chutney and goats :)

Anonymous said...

Hee hee... oh this did make me chuckle. :D I got to spend the solstice at a handfasting this year... sadly a lack of sticks of fecundity and sacrificial goats, but one can only dream...

(actually at my own handfasting the Pagan Society I chaired sent us one of those Oxfam 'funusual' gifts... a goat. Yeah. Cheers guys).

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

Dr. Rajs, I doubt all of you, even when you're backwards.

Bertas, that's nice of you to say. I often console myself when Stephen's away by looking in the mirror and saying 'looking good'. And do you know, I usually am.

Katire, well I've been introduced to 'handfasting'. We don't do it ourselves since Frank Bough got caught in a druid ritual that people assumed was something quite different. The poor man. He was only dressed in stockings because his robe was at the cleaners but the Press wouldn't listen.

However, so glad you popped by. I assume I'll have to increase the number of my druid/pagan posts to keep you reading?

Anonymous said...

Being a blog addict, I am sure I'll keep reading as long as you keep being entertaining. :D

Ah internetz, oh land of cheap entertainment. Whereas can you get surreal commentaries on druidical rituals combined with clones of doctors (very very confused about that one) over breakfast?

I was about to say over a pint of porridge, but that really would have been silly.

Oh, and just so I say something of work - being a druid is actually a philosophy rather than a religion... so you can have Pagan druids as much as you can have Christian druids, or Muslim druids or whatever. Although I've never actually MET a Muslim druid. o.O

Uncle Dick Madeley said...

Katharos, I'll try to keep on entertaining. The day I stop is the day they wheel me off to satellite TV. Oh, hang on, scrub that. You know what I mean...

Is that true about druids? We're more of a social club than a philosophy. We've got nothing to do with that lot who think they can restart pre-Christian worship by hugging a few trees. We're all about hugging each other and doing a little networking. There's the occasional goat, of course, but what's a goat among friends?