Why do we at FOIST love Hallowe’en, All Hallow’s Eve or Samhain, Saint Satan’s Day, International Anarchy Night, whatever you want to call it? For the following reasons:
1. IT PISSES OFF GOD-BOTHERERS: This time of year is devilishly tricky for diehard Christians and the lawmaking Establishment in general. While the church and state have managed to co-opt the Bacchanalian orgy of Saturnalia and the winter Solstice to claim as the saviour’s birthday, and attempted to turn Eostre’s festival of fertility on its head by claiming THAT as the time when Jesus became a zombie, Friday 13th stylee… anyone with any sense knows that October 31 is the day the dead come to dance, and there’s nowt any contrary religious freak can dissuade us of that. As Hallowe’en invites a lot of chaos and revelry, an echo of the Lord of Misrule festivities of ancient times (when a poor person was genially permitted – or in some cases, banned – from turning the hierarchy upside down – and to treat his lord as a slave for a day… or however long he could get away with). Hallowe’en is a license to dress as outrageously as you like, and be who you want to be, even your worst nightmare. It’s great! And in the spirit of Hallowe’en, I hope many costumed ghouls and things that go bump in the night attend my local bible-bashers’ anti-Hallowe’en fireworks party tonight. Let’s show them fundamentalists they can’t try and brainwash their community (of Mitcheldean etc). Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedys urged us to “take your social regulations and shove em up your ass”. I have spotted some donkeys in a field, but I don’t really want to go there. Besides, they don’t belong to me. (Incidentally, did you know ‘ass’ is one of only a few Celtic-derived words in the English language? Llareggub is another)
2. HALLOWE’EN PISSES OFF BORING GROWN-UPS
Ok, granted, sometimes kids go too far with the eggs and flour, their idea of a ‘trick’ when they don’t get a treat. What to do? Board up all your windows, pull your shutters down and triple-lock your doors… or keep a stock of licorice allsorts, Werther’s originals or mint humbugs (the sweets today’s children really love) to quell their anti-adult uprising. If you’re too tight and uncharitable to give strange children sweets, you deserve what’s coming… having said that, I have no sweets or no money, perspex or plywood! Seriously though, I’d much rather give to that local charity than the poppy pusher… In fact, why should the Royal British Legion get my money when I haven’t seen any equivocal retraction of the claim (made recently by its outgoing president) to weapons-makers that poppy day events are ideal networking events for selling arms and perpetuating wars? See http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2012/oct/15/royal-british-legion-president-quits After being caught out, Lieutenant General Sir John Kiszely might have been obliged to resign, but has the Legion properly distanced itself from the claims? Unlike Hallowe’en, the warmongering establishment puts us on a collective guilt trip if we don’t “wear our poppies with pride”. And unlike the trick or treaters who only call once (normally), the poppy-seller will knock on my door persistently, on a weekly basis, until I find some change to give him. “I’m sorry I’ve got no money” is not a permitted excuse for the remembrance merchant. This year, I’m gonna be a pariah and not help fund future wars in the guise of remembering past ones… and I hope you’ll join me.
3. IT WAKES UP THE DEAD
A few Hallowe’ens ago, FOIST got out the ouija board, as is only right and proper, and made contact with Joe Meek. Initially, Mr Meek (from Newent) accused Dr Pleasure of stealing his techniques and ideas. It wasn’t the case – Pleasure couldn’t even whistle Telstar (Margaret Thatcher’s favourite tune, incidentally), and was almost unaware of the producer extraordinaire. To cut a long story short, HELIUM DEALER made friends with the ghost of Joe Meek, and were posthumously permitted – nee, encouraged! – to sample David John & The Mood’s Digging For Gold, as well as the Moontrekkers and Screaming Lord Sutch for its tribute to Joe Meek… Shock Ice (Joe Meek’s Ice Cream Van)… FOIST played it to a manifestation of Joe via a special audio device which connected to the spirit world… his response? The ouija board spelled out: “See you in the charts.” What number in the hit parade the song got to, FOIST doesn’t know. I mean, who follows the charts these days? Here’s the Hallowe’en beauty, 2/3rds of the way through this little YouTube collection:
4. STONES TURN TO SPONGE
According to FOIST’s cosmic Hallowe’en calendar, if you hurl yourself at a stone – any stone, except concrete or bricks, they don’t work – at 9.37pm today, you will be enveloped within it and transported to another dimension. Because at this time, all stone turns to sponge. It’s a kind of open day for the inner-stone world. Red sandstone tends to be quite a mundane other spirit world, while – if you happen to be in the Preseli Hills – bluestone has itchy feet. It has the tendency to force you to carry it hundreds of miles, which can be back-breaking, and treacherous when it comes to the Severn Bridge. HELIUM DEALER found oolithic limestone an interesting experience. Armed with a video camera and recording devices, this is what transpired inside the stone… the visuals were something else, and quite unexpected… indeed, you might say disjointed, as they had no connection with the lyrics, communicated to us by the Buckstone in Staunton. A bit garbled, perhaps because concrete now stops the mighty stone from rocking after it rocked someone to death in the 1930s (or maybe before), and concrete is bad news for the stone spirits!
FOIST invites everyone else to share their ‘inside stone’ videos via the comments box below… 9.37pm tonight is the time they spongify, don’t be late, and don’t forget to bring expensive sound and video equipment with you when you take a run and jump at the stone… the longer the run-up, the faster, the better…