Guy Fawkes Goes Global

From being a purely British celebration designed by the pusillanimous puritans to stop paganistic peasants parading their private parts in profligate pleasuremongering (Tuesday is plosives day on Boggart Blog)Guy Fawkes Day has gone global.

Russia Today reports:

Supporters of the Anonymous hacktivist collective are holding rallies all around the world on November 5, Guy Fawkes Day. They are protesting against what they see as the rule of greedy corporations and corrupt governments around the world.

To help us understand how dear old Guy Fawkes (not to be confused with blogger Guido Fawkes) has become a symbol all around the world for resistance to government corruption and corporate greed, RT have produced a map with a little flag showing the intended venues for these protests in which participants will wear the unbiquitous Guy Fawkes Mask.

And guess what … the only country where there isn’t one is ……………………………………………………………………………………wait for it …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..


guy fawkes million mask march
Pictures from one of the million mask march events.

Trick or Teat

Who are these babies rininging our doorbell and lisping “twick or tweat”.

Around here, where we live in the shadow of Pendle Hill with all its sinister associations, Halloween used to be for grown ups. Off up Pendle the lads and lasses would go on this night to pay their respects to Mother Demdike and celebrate the rites the old Gods (if you know what I mean).

Few drinks in the Wellsprings, the Swan with Two Necks or the Excorcists Arms and off you’d go, climing towards the dark summit. Chances are you would meet a young lady and ask her if she was up for it.

Chances are she would reply, “I was hoping to mate with the Devil and bear his hellish brood but there’s a lot of competition about so OK, you’ll do.”

And because we northerers are well hard (or totally stupid) it would be off with kit for a quick roll in the heather. Now you have to be very stupid or very drunk to get your kit off of a mindight in Lancashire at this time of year but rolling in heather takes a special kind of bravery.

So having celebrated the rite and earned bragging rights it was off back to your local to compare notes with your mates.

And no sweeties or little kiddywinks in sight. Well they had Guy Fawkes night, that was for children, fireworks, treacle toffee, baked potatoes and all that. Fireworks are not politically correct now of course and burning an effigy of a 400 year old conspirator might send out the wrong message about the acceptability of setting fire to tramps.

But I say to hell with political correctness, brink back Guy Fawkes for the kids and let us grown ups have Halloween.

The New Guy Fawkes

Where are Catesby and his co – conspirators when we need them? Where is our gunpowder plot this bonfire night? Not that I’d want the buggers to blow up The Palace of Westminster, it is a wonderful building. If somebody would just put a rocket up the arses of our patetic, self serving politicians it would help lift the national mood.

Fortunately we have the new Guido Fawkes, the not very anonymous blogger whose Order-order blog has put details a few very big scandals into the public domain. Nice the see Guido getting a big write up in The Guardian (Guido knows the power of gossip) yesterday, even though he does not demur from being described as an extreme right winger. Now that the mainstream press, Guardian included, have abandoned honest, objective journalism in favour of partisan drivel in support of certain agendas Guido is a shining beacon and an inspiration for all us bloggers.

Happy Health And Safety Halloween

Once upon ye tyme in daze of yore (bit of nostalgic atmosphere creation there) Halloween was just an American substitute for bonfire night. America could not have Guy Fawkes night you see on account of not having a King for conspirators to plot to blow up. Halloween was as American as Pecan Pie and Hot Dogs, a party night when children could dress up and eat sweets until their eyes bulged. (Guy Fawkes Night tradition )

As in most things Britain has been railroaded by capitalism’s pursuit of ever increasing profits and world domination. Bonfire night was too cheap, there was not enough money to be made from people lighting fires to burn old rubbish and standing around eating baked potatoes, roast chestnuts and home made treacle toffee. Chestnuts could be had for free if you knew where to look, ingredients for treacle toffee were a few basics and a tin of molasses and Potatoes were cheap as chips. That was back in the days when elephants were sevenpence for twenty of course. The only money spinner was the annual sale of fireworks and that was small beer compared with sales of costumes, masks, make up and sweets across the Atlantic. Perhaps we could start a new bonfire night and burn an effigy of globalisation?

Trick or treat was not in the same league for fun opportunities as Guy Fawkes night, preparations for which started in the long summer holiday. First job was forming a conspiracy as the neighbourhood children split into groups and planned their strategy to build the biggest bonfire of “bonnie.”

Soon on selected sites piles of rubbish started to grow, scrap wood, old furniture, cardboard packaging, anything that would burn. As the day neared and competition became more intense the conspiratorial element of bonfire building emerged. Raiding rival piles was common so guards had to be mounted while raids on rival fires were planned and organised. It was not uncommon the see and entire ten or fifteen foot high pile of rubbish moving along a street propelled by a multitude of little legs that protruded from the bottom.

In the final week before the night of conflagration, in addition to guarding the fire and final frenetic efforts to enlarge it there was a Penny-For-The-Guy effort to be considered.

In order to be successful at raising money for fireworks by begging “penny for the guy please” from people passing your pitch the first requisite was a Guy – the effigy of Guy Fawkes to be burned on the fire. Most Guys were fairly simple, an old shirt or sweater and a pair of trousers stuffed with newspaper, straw or old clothes created a vaguely human form. This was topped by a pumpkin, mangol wurzel or burst football adorned with a Guy Fawkes mask as a head.

One year my friends and I were particularly creative. We took the smallest boy in our gang, a skinny little lad called Alan Jones put him in an adult’s sweater and trousers stuffed with paper to get the shapelessness right, made up his face with talc, greened by adding the kind of paint used in kindergarten, drew bright red blobs on the cheeks with lipstick and added a moustache and goatee beard with eyeliner begged from somebody’s elder sister, stuck him in an old pram and set up our pitch on a busy shopping street.

It was going well, people were highly amused by our lifelike guy who winked at them and said Thank You for contributions of sixpences and shillings. Unfortunately the scheme came unstuck when one mean and humourless, literally minded old man actually gave us a penny.

“Tight fisted old bugger,” said our guy. Not long after a police officer moved us along after we had been given a lecturing on respecting our elders. how unfair was that? I am sure to this day the old man was not told off for not respecting his juniors.

In recent years the whole bonfire thing has been killed by health and Safety fascists.

Naked flames, can’t allow that say the Politically Correct police, people can be burned by flames. Big piles of burnable junk, absolutely not , they could collapse injuring people. The mere mention of fireworks is enough to give these hand wringing do-gooders an apoplectic fit. Put all these things together with simple pleasures like potatoes baked in their skins (WHAAAAAAT? Potato skins have been exposed to soil bacteria and may contain potentially dangerous pesticide residues.

The Politically Correct police and the forces of Corporate Darkness joined in one of those silent cabals. No agreements were ever made, no plots were ever plotted but they found their interests lay in the direction of downgrading bonfire night a) so that is could be properly supervised by bureaucrats and all the fun squeezed out of it because fun is bad for people and b) so that something more commercialised and profitable could take its place.

Well now that bonfires have to be licensed and firework sales are restricted naturally Halloween must come under scrutiny. It is not as much fun as Bonfire Night but it is fun and so must be properly monitored and controlled. The rot has already set in.

Going round ASDA which being Wal Mart owned has a very extensive range of American Halloween goodies, I noticed on goods in the section for stick on wounds and scars a warning on the packaging. THIS PRODUCT IS MADE OF LATEX AND MAY CAUSE ALLERGIC REACTION.

I imagine that if any parent picks p one of these novelties a health and Safety Inspector will leap out from behind the display and shout “SSSSTTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPP! Do you know that product is made from latex which some people are allergic to. Put that on your child’s skin and you may trigger an allergic reaction which could cause a mass of suppurating sores. Should these then become infected with an MRSA type flesh eating bacteria your child could DIE because you are a bad parent who did not heed health and safety warnings.”

So when you are shopping for the kid’s treats remember the Politically Correct Mantra: Safety first – fun nowhere.

This years superspooky halloween poem
Halloween fortnight by fatsally

Life saving is a risky business

Fear And Panic And HP Sauce