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Swami Bharmi’s Ashram Acolytes – EA Vol. XIX


Swami

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. XIX …

The Swami has an indeterminate number of followers and has lived an indeterminate number of lives … although his penultimate descent to the samsaric plane is examined in a forthcoming book – ‘An Incarnation of Swami Bharmi’ – by Master Bruce Garrard.

Whilst the Swami’s full titular name is ‘His Holiness Sri Ananda Jacaranda Swamiji Bharmiji Ji’, he is known to his closest acolytes simply as Swami Bharmi (the ‘h’ is silent, unlike the guru himself).

The Swami’s interest in Avalonia began when his legal adviser informed him, mistakenly as it turned out, of a massive influx to the area from Greenland. He realised instantly that only a spiritual power-centre of enormous potency could have induced these Inuits to abandon their blow-holes and head south. Curiosity piqued, he resolved to leave his far mountain ashram and question these sweaty immigrants.

His Holiness slipped into Glastonbury almost unnoticed, for his reputation receded him. And then, after 23 weeks of meditation atop the Tor (making ready to visit the settlers at Greenlands Farm), he descended to his very patient band of followers and established his reputation as a guru of true Avalonian pedigree by declaring, “Nothing Once Known is Never Forgotten”.

Swami Bharmi’s Ashram Acolytes:

  • Tribal refuge: The Ashram
  • Favourite colour: Bardic Brown
  • Favourite Only food: A grain of rice (Ambrosia Creamed Rice during bi-millennial festivals).
  • Favourite drink: Buddhaweiser Beer
  • Favourite perfume: Lotus Oil
  • Favourite car: Lotus Élan.
  • Favourite TV programme: Highway to Heaven
  • Favourite dance: The Tao Step
  • Susceptible to: Lhasa Fever. Also Zenaphobia.
  • Patron saint: Philip the Punter
  • Tribal motto: ‘I am that I am’ (1st person singular). Otherwise translated as ‘The Swami is that he is’ (3rd acolyte singular).

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Medieval Brigands (The Convoy) – EA. Vol. XIII


medieval brigands

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. XIII (unlucky for some) …

“Medieval Brigand” is synonymous with “member of The Convoy“ – being another name for a Hedge Monkey (see here) who has finally “obtained” a suitable vehicle and thus been accepted as a fully-fledged Convoy-ite. The rites of initiation are too gruesome to describe in any detail here[1], but those who make it aboard are then said to have ‘oiled their back axles’.

An early reference to The Convoy stems from Stonehenge in June 1976. The authorities had intended to stop the annual Stonehenge Festival, but these plans were pre-empted when a convoy of vehicles (henceforth the Convoy) arrived on-site, hot drive from Challacombe Free Festival on Exmoor.

The Government put out the story that it was powerless to act because the ancient monument had been hi-jacked, and that any attempt to evict the festival-goers would likely result in hippies destroying the Stones. At this point The Convoy’s image had become that of a monstrous line of ships on a dark, storm-tossed sea – steaming without signals or lights, and leaving a trail of damaged police cars.

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Green Party Loyalists – EA Vol. VII


Green Party2

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. VII …

Green Party Loyalists – some of whom reside in Avalonia – are deeply wedded to the notion that a political party is needed as the cutting edge of an otherwise blunt, wider green movement.

The Loyalists pledge die-hard allegiance to a grouping known as the ‘Ghost Cabinet’ – an inner party committee that currently shadows the Labour Party’s ‘Shadow Cabinet’, which in turn (and outside of Avalonia of course) shadows the Cabinet of Her Majesty’s current government.

Having created a Ghost Cabinet, many Loyalists have spoken loyally as to why they needed take the ‘next logical step’ and create the post of Party Leader (i.e. Ghost Prime Minister). The argument proffered was that the Party needs a Leader so that the Queen will know whom to invite for tea at Buckingham Palace when they win a thumping great majority in Parliament at the next election (or perhaps, at most, the next election after that).

All aspiring leaders within the Party are thus carefully scrutinised by Loyalists as to their table manners. But this has been the downfall of more than one candidate: Iron Sid for example, whose years in the wild Welsh mountains took their toll when his predilection for skinning rabbits with a six-inch Bowie knife proved totally unacceptable to the Loyalist-dominated selection committee.

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The Star-Gazers – EA Vol. XVIII


astrology

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. XVIII …

In Avalonia they’re big on Astrology – and getting bigger all the time since interest is booming. As one local astrologer said: “… when it comes to our stars, the sky’s the limit.”

This boom was confirmed by a local newspaper (The Central Somerset Garotte) which, under the headline ’Alternative’ Businesses Boost Job Figures, reported that:

“A rush of new businesses, mostly in sectors usually described as ‘alternative’, have been transforming the local employment rates according to the latest figures released by the Ministry of Retrenchment. They reveal that out of a record 50 new jobs ‘created’ in the area … there were: 29 astrologers (our emphasis), 11 workshop leaders, 19 New Age Gurus, 8 wholefood businesses, 16 therapists and 23 anarchist revolutionaries working to overthrow the State.”

Many Avalonians (especially the anarchist revolutionaries) quite openly check their aspects and transits for the day before sitting down to breakfast. In justification they point to the woman who, being a Piscean anarchist, decided one day to wait till elevenses before checking her starry portents. She thus munched her Rice Krispies in total groklessness of Neptune’s retrograde motion semi-sextile to her natal Moon in the 8th House, choked on the “free gift with every cereal box” (a miniature plastic fish) and thereby effected an early arrival in that great autonomous confederacy in the sky.

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The Picts – EA Vol. XV


Picts3  Picts5

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. XV …

The Picts migrated to Avalonia from the far, far, faraway North. Even so, they have kept many of their tribal memories intact … and this is reflected in a curious rite held each year on January 25th in the Glastonbury Assembly Rooms.

Known as Burns Night, it commemorates the ancient Pictish practice – now mercifully discontinued – of pouring huge quantities of melted candle wax all over their bodies. The celebrants would then steel themselves, despite writhing in agony, to sit down and write poetic eulogies. Anthropologists from the University of Avalon speculate that this custom stemmed from an even older Pictish belief in pain as the best stimulant of the higher creative faculties.[1]

Nowadays, Avalonian Picts content themselves with pouring huge quantities of melted whisky[2] down their throats, to steel themselves against the pain of eating a disgusting blob of steaming, blood-sodden cattle entrails known as “haggis”. Those who can manage to force down these intestines without vomiting are then said to have “a lot of guts”.

In deference to the ancestral roots of its Pictish minority, Avalonia established diplomatic relations with Findhorn, a small statelet bordering north-east Scotland. But this overture soon turned sour, for it seems that the Findhornians, whose somewhat humourless theology centres on “light energies”, objected to the “dark underworld” aspects of Avalonian mythology. Matters came to a head when the Findhorn State Censor ordered a package of Glastonbury Communicators[3] stopped at the border and sent back. In response, Avalonia withdrew its ambassador and – on the basis of no smoke without fire – broke off relations with Scotland as well.

The Picts:

  • Tribal refuge: Whisky
  • Tribal motto: “Guts are everything”
  • Favourite food: Fried entrails
  • Favourite bakers: Burns the Bread (Glastonbury High Street)
  • Favourite poem: The mickle mach’d muck’d o’ wyld wee willie
  • Hobbies: Burning the candle at both ends; vomiting.
  • Favourite TV program:  Casualty
  • Twinned with: Findhorn   Loch Ness

[1] Prompting the Romans to demonstrate – by building Hadrian’s Wall – that they already felt creative enough.

[2] Melted whisky is whisky that’s already been malted … as per the following past, present and future-tense verb sequence: ‘I melted’, I malt, I mult (i.e. I must malt).

[3] A newsletter from Unique Publications: http://www.unique-publications.co.uk

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The Crop Circlers – EA Vol. III


Crop Circle1

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. III …

The Crop Circlers are a nomadic tribe, constantly moving in a great sweeping arc from Avalonia to the Wiltshire Downs and Salisbury Plain – and back again. According to tribal lore they must continue to make this endless circling journey, renewing the energies of the land, or else the crops will fail.

There is little or no crime amongst the Crop Circlers, though a local anthropologist who studies their intensely nomadic habits puts this down to sheer exhaustion. The only recorded crimes were committed by a cereal killer from the Root Crop Clan, whose members have in any case always had a somewhat muddy reputation.

Sightings of the Crop Circlers – who seem to pop up overnight out of nowhere – are more common during the summer months. Periodically they gather at tribal meeting places – or moot points – to hold what are called “Cornferences”. Very little is known about these apart from the fact that discussions occur on tricky questions – or moot points.

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Irish Rovers – EA Vol. IX


  Irish Rovers4

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. IX …

The Irish Rovers (plural) should more accurately be called the Irish Rover (singular), because this tribe – with the exception of the Hobbits, and also the Church of the Unitarian – is the smallest in Avalonia.

The Irish Rover would in fact be surprised if you told him that he is in Avalonia, for the only thing he remembers each morning is the punch that knocked him out the night before. Sporting wild red hair, a battered red face and a boys-o’-the-black-stuff bobble hat, the Irish Rover has achieved a unique double in bodily-status: the only living being to be both permanently drunk and punch-drunk at one and the same time.

He has reached this exalted state by means of several, carefully-planned techniques. For starters, he never stops drinking unless overtaken, one way or another, by unconsciousness.

Secondly, he is master of the gratuitous insult. On discovering that someone is English, for example, he immediately shouts “You English bastard”. In the tourist season his repertoire expands, with variations ranging from “You German dickhead” and “You Finnish swine” to “You Estonian wanker”. If all else fails he seeks a different target group and lets fly with “You fucking biker” or “Sod off, you pig-faced skinhead”.

Thirdly, he never gives up. If an insult does not at first succeed in provoking, he tries and tries again (being indeed very trying). Such patience brings its own reward, often in the form of a visit to the local hospital.

Anthropologists from the University of Avalon have placed the Irish Rovers on their list of endangered tribes.

Irish Rovers:

  • Tribal refuge: Currently the Rifleman’s Arms
  • Favourite colour: Emerald Green, spangled with Scrumpy Orange and flecked with Bloody Nose Red
  • Favourite drink: Rubbing Alcohol, or else Punch
  • Favourite food: Guinness
  • Favourite film: Rocky XXIII
  • Tribal motto: “Veni, Vidi, Vinsulti” (I came, I saw, I insulted)

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Stonehenge Freedom Fighters – EA Vol. XVIII


Stonehenge1  Stonehenge4

Encyclopaedia Avalonia Vol. XVIII …

The history of the ‘People’s Free Festival’ at Stonehenge is long and complex. It’s nearly as long and complex as the history of Stonehenge itself, and far too long and complex to do proper injustice here. Nonetheless, a brief summary is desirable …

Way back in the early 1960s, Mods and Rockers were in the habit of spending just one night, at the time of the Summer Solstice, on opposite sides of a very narrow trackway at Stonehenge. During the brief hours of darkness a temporary truce to hostilities was called, but this always ended when the first rays of dawn hit the Heel Stone. There were never any serious fatalities.

The first real Stonehenge Festival took place in 1975; the last in 1984, when Big Brother was watching just a little too closely. The Stonehenge Freedom Fighters took shape as an underground movement soon after, gaining especial impetus following the notorious “Battle of the Beanfield” in June 1985, when over 500 travellers on their way to Stonehenge were rounded up and arrested by the police.

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Eco-pagans – EA. Vol. V


Woods   Makeshift structure4

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. V …

The eco-pagans live in benders, domes, yurts and other shelters, hidden away in leafy glades and bushy coombes. But the encroachments of modern civilisation have forced these shy, rarely glimpsed peoples ever deeper into the woods and forests of Avalonia. Even worse, these last few descendants of ‘the folk’[1] must constantly hide from professional explorers sent by government to impose British citizenship and enforce compliance with housing regulations.

Amateur bounty-hunters, drawn locally from the ranks of Glastonburgers, join this relentless search, whilst officials from Sheepdip District Council aid the hue and cry with maps, satellite imaging and tracker-dogs. Yet against this whole panoply of the modern state and its vast array of detection techniques, the eco-pagans have only tree-craft, sling-shots and green skin.

At first sight it seems an unequal battle. But unbeknownst to the powers-that-be, the powers-that-were-and-will-be-again are with these plucky little folk. Yes, the Goddess is stirring; the Priestesses of the Nine-fold Muse evoke Her olden names and Pan of the Woods is once again abroad his ancient green domain.

Eco-pagans:

  • Tribal refuge: Unknown
  • Favourite Only colour: Green
  • Favourite film director: Woody Allen
  • Favourite drink: Root beer
  • Favourite model: Twiggy
  • Favourite composer: Johann Sebastian Bark
  • Tribal motto: I was, I will, I wood

 

[1] See “faery folk”, Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. V. Also see “Britons, ancient” (EA, Vol. II) and “Studies in Racial Genotypes and Gene-Pool Mixing” (published by the Dept. of Anthropology, University of Avalon).

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Hedge Monkeys – EA Vol. VII


child-hole-in-hedge-1

Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. VII …

Hedge Monkeys are fledgling members of The Convoy (see here in Encyclopaedia Avalonia, Vol. XIII) who have not as yet found a Convoy to join … or even a live-in vehicle in which to Convoy.[1]

They do, however, have nearly the right sense of dress-code.[2] Enormous heavy boots, worn unlaced, are kept on at all times, even in the hottest heat wave. Dirty overcoats are de rigueur, as is dreadlocked, matted hair. Mud is glorified and cleanliness castigated as middle class, thus making a virtue out of necessity. The more fashion-conscious sport a cloth cap, a “twatting stick’“, and mangy dog (either a whippet or a Jack Russell) which they drag around on the end of a string lead.

The dog and stick are meant to give the impression of an earthy, rural, rabbit-hunting, tree-nutting, rogue ‘o the road life-style. However, most Hedge Monkeys are actually born and raised in London, and it is therefore no coincidence that “dog and stick” is in fact Cockney rhyming slang for “rural hick”.

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