Category Archives: Lewes

An ecclesiastical argument about alcohol

Posted on 25 February 2013 | Leave a comment

Dear Archbishop Justin Welby,

I confess, at the start of this week, to being somewhat disappointed that you haven’t replied to either my first or my second letter to you, which is a little unkind, especially in view of the generous offer of a consultancy which I have given to you. Do you normally ignore correspondents or are you singling out the Archbishops of Lewes? To begin with, I was sympathetic to your plight, recognising that you have a busy job to get used to and, what with only having been a Bishop for one year, a chronic lack of experience to equip you for the trials ahead. However, I checked out what you have been up to in your first month in the job and found that it amounts to precisely nothing, aside from your opening salvo of homophobic press releases, of course. If you continue to ignore my correspondence, I shall be forced to the conclusion that you are nothing more than a rude, ignorant buffoon who is more interested in the increasingly obscure ecclesiastical debates of your own church than the real world the rest of us live in.

Okay, I admit that I’m annoyed by your complete silence. Sorry about that. I’ll get over it. I expect you’re a bit unnerved by the approach I have made. That’s perfectly normal. Most people are. Let’s turn our attention to more worthy topics. Today I want to talk to you about your coping mechanisms in your new job. It’s all too easy to let such great burdens as weigh down on you to become overwhelming and to break into the church’s drinks cupboard for some form of personal salvation. With so much expectation of your capacity and with so little to fill your idle hands with, you’re bound to find a glass of something to wash down your worries. Of course, I would suggest you put a pen or a keyboard in them, and bloody well reply to my correspondence, but hey, I don’t want to repeat myself.

I would caution against heavy drinking that but that would be sanctimonious. Obviously we can’t have that sort of tittle tattle moralising from the clergy. Of course you’re going to hit the bottle. The real issue is which bottle?

Myself, I was teetotal until the age of 26, when yet another endless dinner at Gray’s Inn left me desperate for the numbness which alcohol has a tendency to induce. Knowing that I could not qualify for the Bar unless I completed that absurd and archaic ritual, instead of running away screaming into the night, I reached out for the bottle of port on the table. Now there’s a drink which most people associate with Christmas, for some reason. Of course, they are thinking of the cheaper brands. With all that money you’ve got locked away, you’ll be able to afford something much better. The advantage of port is that you really can down a lot of alcohol without it necessarily ruining your integrity with that give away breath. However, the disadvantage is that once you’ve got into it properly, it turns your lips, tongue, piss and shit bright red, which can be a bit much at times. I’ve heard that you’re one of the nervous types, so perhaps that isn’t for you?

Of course, many of your vicars turn to that regular sauce, wine. After all, it was a favourite with Jesus H Christ. By the way, did you ever discover what his middle name was? Odd that we’ve remembered only the initial, don’t you think? I’m guessing that your church archives are in better order than mine. Anyway, I digress. What do you make of that old story about JC turning water into wine? Here’s my take. It’s the oldest con-trick in the book, isn’t it? I guess we’ve all done it at one time or another. You buy a bottle of decent plonk and decant the precious liquid into a suitable glass vessel for your later consuming pleasure. Then you weaken the bottom of the bottle by scoring it with a glass cutter. Then you go to the party. On the way in, you stretch out your arm proffering the expensive booze you’ve rocked up with in such a way that you appear to accidentally drop the bottle but in fact you throw it at the floor with this sleight of hand. It hits the deck and breaks, spilling the contents all over your host’s floor. You cry, “Salt, get the salt!” When you host returns with the salt to save his carpet from an ugly white wine stain, you hold up the upper part of the bottle to show him how much money you had lavished on him. Guilt racked, he immediately offers you some of his alcohol and hey presto (!) you’ve converted water into wine. Then you swan around the party telling the story to all the other freeloaders, who go out and tell the world that you converted water into wine! Don’t you reckon that is a plausible explanation for the biblical story?

Anyway, none of that answers the crucial question, which sauce should you get hooked on. Let’s face it, in your job, you’re going to be positively pickling yourself. I’ll be honest, when I’m attending my clerical duties, there isn’t much time for drinking. Yes, I do imbibe a couple of pints of Harvey’s Ale in my extraordinary tankard, but only to be polite. Nevertheless, I think I’m well suited to serving up advice on this subject.

The key obstacle to getting sozzled is how to cope with regular comfort breaks in those robes. They really do make urination difficult. When you’re nearly wetting yourself, unravelling all that finery can be too complicated a chore. Therefore, you need to drink something which is short in measure and strong in spirit. I recommend whiskey. My favourite is Bushmill’s Ten Year Malt, by the way. It’s apt to get you wrecked quickly and may also help you get over your inhibitions in talking to other people. Believe me, you’re going to have to break that instinct pretty soon.

Why not practise by sending me a letter? I won’t mind if it’s clumsily constructed and stained with tears. I want you to think of me as your friend, who can tell you stuff that your brethren don’t feel able to, who can listen to your most secret thoughts. Even the ones which are so twisted that you fear their sinful import. In fact, especially those ones!

Yours faithfully,

Archbishop Scrapper

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Archbishop, Archbishop's Correspondence, Lewes, Southover Bonfire Society

Sartorial advice for the Archbishop of Canterbury

Posted on 19 February 2013 | 1 Comment

Dear Archbishop Justin Welby,

Perhaps I deployed my moral compass a little bluntly in my first letter to you? If I was, it was purely out of a very keenly held desire to help you avoid the ethical quagmire that so many of your predecessors have fallen into. I do hope you haven’t taken offence? I guess your past in the oil industry may have left you a little touchy on being challenged to change your attitude to the difference between right and wrong. The important thing now is for everyone to recognise that those dark days are behind you, that you’ve taken on a conspicuous job and will need some time settling in. So I forgive you for not yet replying to my correspondence. I know you like to keep abreast of the ecclesiastical world and have no doubt that you have read my letter. If you’re struggling to find the time to sit down and compose an equally eloquent reply, please don’t bother. You can’t hope to reach the giddy heights of my rhetoric. Besides, it doesn’t matter to me whether you use ten syllable words or not. It’s the thought that counts, right?

There’s a lot of excitement here in Southover, Lewes about your involvement in this year’s commemoration of our martyrs on 5th November. I admit that your presence will certainly draw a much bigger crowd than we are used to. There will be lots of people who will wish to bring their heresy to your attention, in our traditional manner. Don’t let that put you off coming. Although you’ll be standing next to me on Southover Bonfire Society’s clergy stand, please do remember that it will be me who is the target of their abuse, not you. You’ll be held in the highest esteem, promise. Also, please don’t be put off by what I wrote in my official report of the first sermon by an Archbishop of Southover in the 21st century. I did probably commit the sin of over dramatisation. You know how easy it is to get carried away when knocking up an official report. I expect you fell foul of that all the time back in your days as an oilman! I’ve been asked to contribute to this year’s bonfire programme and am wondering what title I should give you? I ask because I realise that you may not be attending in your official capacity. Let’s face it, that chap in York might get jealous. I heard he was the jealous type. Is it true that you two are lovers? If you are, best keep it under your pointy hat for now. Not sure the Church is ready for a confession of that scale. Not just yet, anyway.

In today’s letter, I’d like to concentrate on sartorial advice. These mitres are damnable things aren’t they? I’d far rather wear the cowl of the brother monks of Southover, which cover your ears nicely. My mitre rests uncomfortably on top of my ears. Also, rather embarrassingly, it turned out that my head was a bit smaller than the person it was originally purchased for and therefore, a last minute alteration had to be made, with a staple gun. I bet your clerical assistants wouldn’t dream of using a metal staple to alter your pointy hat! Down here in Lewes we are, as you will have surmised, a bit rough and ready. Well, actually, in my case, very rough and very ready for action. Know what I’m saying? I think you do!

I highly recommend soaking your robes in a solution of borax. That will stop you from going up in smoke when you pass by a large fire. It’s also handy when flaming objects fall on you or when some miscreant from the rabble throws a firework in your direction. These costumes are so elaborate that burn marks will spoil the effect. There’s also the all important health and safety aspect. Sure, you’d go down in history filed under ‘Old Fashioned Religious Termination’ if you were burnt alive, which would make for a great obituary but I wouldn’t recommend it. Also, taking that exit strategy would be somewhat counterproductive to your forthcoming consultancy role here in Lewes.

The received wisdom on the best way to make a solution of borax is two and a half tablespoons of borax to one cup of boiling water. Let the solution cool before you use it. You can put it into a water spray to apply it, if you like. However, let’s face it, that could take all day, especially with all those fancy garments you have. I’d scale up the amounts if I were you so that you can fill your bath tub with the mixture. Then you can leave your vestments to soak in it while you get on with other stuff, like replying to my correspondence (hint). It does come off in the rain, so make sure to buy plenty for re-application. It works beautifully, God knows how.

Well, I can’t chat all morning. I’ve a bonfire committee meeting to attend later and various other nitty gritty tasks to perform between then and now. It’s not all gravitas and sermonising is it?

Looking forward very much to your reply,

Yours faithfully,

Archbishop Scrapper

→ 1 Comment

Posted in Archbishop, Archbishop's Correspondence, Bonfire, Lewes, Southover Bonfire Society

A conflict of interest: you or your grandchildren

Posted on 16 February 2013 | 2 Comments

This morning I awoke to the realisation that I had a couple of things in common with the legendary Thomas Paine. Firstly, I had a hangover and secondly, I had now launched an argument at a drinking and debate society called The Headstrong Club. There the similarities end. I’m in no danger of being run out of Lewes and am unlikely to be elected to national assemblies in both France and America. The original Headstrong Club was Mr Paine’s drinking crew. These days it concentrates more on the meat and less on the sauce, by which I mean the focus is on debate, rather than debauched trouble making.

Last night I addressed The Headstrong Club, with a talk entitled as above. Being no scientist, I had turned to the Royal Society‘s Summary on the Science of Climate Change (850KB pdf) for the facts. The summary divided the science into that upon which there was widespread agreement, that upon which there was still some debate at the margins and that which there most debate about. Drawing only from the scientific analysis about which there was widespread agreement, I set out the case that says we, humankind, have demonstrably altered the atmospheric proportions of carbon dioxide, the warming effects of the planet and so on. I’ll not repeat the whole thing here (Hey, you had to be there!) but suffice it to say that I urged my audience that if they wanted to avoid a conflict of interest between themselves and their descendants, they needed to radically change their lifestyles with immediate effect. They needed to stop buying more stuff which they didn’t need. They needed to go vegan. I also argued that market forces have been unable to produce the incentives necessary for inventors to create devices capable of harvesting carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, so we need massive cash prizes. I suggested that if we binned our nuclear weapons and spent the monies saved on a prize fund every year, to be awarded to anyone who could demonstrate that they had created a harvesting method at least as efficient and carbon neutral as criteria agreed by an international panel of scientists, then we might have a chance of helping ourselves to make the necessary change.

I asked people to confess to whether they had children or grandchildren. Similarly, I asked them to confess whether they ate meat or flew around the world. I’m pleased to report that whilst I was urging the assembled Lewesians to refuse to fly again, I did lip read one or two people around the room whispering to their neighbour, “Perhaps we should stop flying.” However, as strongly as a I feel about this topic, the reason I was asked along was to provoke a debate, so I was equally pleased when a lady declared that I was wrong to claim that there was more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere now than there had ever been before. Apparently there was more during the Pliocene Epoch, in particular 5,000,000 years before the present day, although she didn’t have the parts per million measurements to hand.

At another point in the debate, another lady made the age old point that the whole problem was too big for us to deal with as individuals and we needed governments to deal with it. I pointed out that asking for governmental responsibility in democratic countries was little more than asking for individuals to cast their votes more responsibly. To illustrate the point, I asked how many people had voted for the two main parties, to highlight the fact that, collectively, we voted for parties which cared very little for the change need because they were obsessed with material growth. Curiously, when I asked who had voted Tory, not a single hand went up. Perhaps that was to be expected. Perhaps Tories are so sure in their world view that they don’t join political debating societies? I suspect that they are simply socialised into not admitting their sin. Hilariously, one young man raised his hand and confessed to voting LibDem with the words, “Isn’t that the same thing?“. Even more curiously, when I asked who voted Labour, the few hands that went up were extremely half hearted. Well done Ed, you’ve really inspired them, haven’t you?

Next month’s debate at the Headstrong Club is being led by Paul Bowen QC, whom I had the pleasure of meeting last night. He’ll be discussing the history of euthanasia and asking the question whether the time has come to recognise a right to kill yourself. Having spoken at length with him last night, I know that debate promises to be fascinating.

→ 2 Comments

Posted in Headstrong Club, Lewes

The first sermon by the Archbishop of Southover

Posted on 12 February 2013 | Leave a comment

Just over a week ago, I sent the new Archbishop of Canterbury a congratulatory message, which included a couple of tips and a suggestion that he visit Lewes. I’m not surprised that he hasn’t replied yet. The first week in a new job can be pretty full on. I expect he was going to reply yesterday, probably with a personal courtesy call, but then the Bishop of Rome unexpectedly resigned and all Christendom was thrown into chaos. No matter. I’ll give him another week or so. I know that as soon as he hears my offer of a consultancy role his brain will pop with excitement. Not literally, of course. Obviously, I’d hoped to publish his reply here but since it’s been such a busy week, instead I’m republishing my official report on my sermon at Southover Bonfire Society‘s fire site on 5th November 2012. Becoming the first Archbishop of Southover in the 21st Century is a great honour. Giving that sermon was a very humbling experience… here’s my report… all the photographs are republished with the very generous permission of Ian Cumming…

Scrapper Duncan on Southover's clergy stand

Taking the stand

Ascending the steps of our clergy stand, I found myself fulfilling a lifelong ambition: to wear the garb of an Archbishop and face down a remonstrative congregation of bonfire belles and boys, intent on making good their devoted rebellion. In spite of having long coveted a place on the stand, when the call came, it caught me by surprise. I had expected another first pioneer monk to become Southover’s first pointy hat wearer in the 21st century. Unfortunately for him, his family discovered his plans and collectively cancelled them. Thus my unexpected elevation. For some inexplicable reason I produced a sermon for the night. This folly overlooked the fact of all the other Archbishops being quite unable to make themselves heard on the occasion of the Fifth. Perhaps, over the years, before I joined Southover, I had been impressed with the fortitude with which they faced our fiery protests.

Silhouette of archbishop on the clergy stand awaiting crowds, Southover Bonfire Society, Lewes, East Sussex, UK. © Ian Cumming

Watching over the congregation

Certainly, I had imagined myself as a rather dignified character for the crowd to abuse. I knew that this was no regular religious gig but the reality was starkly different from my expectations. I had not considered the actual route to the stand. Having arrived in good order and only politely late at the fire site, our procession skirted around the assembled crowd much as I had anticipated. Our fire was lit and the mood expectant. However, before I could reach the foot of the hallowed steps, a farmer’s fence had to be overcome. That was no easy obstacle in my unfamiliar clerical outfit. Beyond it and between us and our scaffold lay several unseen trenches of the most sloppy mud imaginable. Wading was the only way across. Several times I tripped on my own clothing and nearly fell face flat into the sloppy mixture of earth, water and cow shit. So, instead of arriving at the stand full of fear, instead I was relieved still to be upright.

Archbishop on the clergy stand, Southover Bonfire Society, Lewes, East Sussex, UK. © Ian Cumming

My fire-eating days are over, so one of my brethren lit the crosses.

Surveying the people from on high quickly made clear that no ordinary public speaking was possible here. We were too far back from our own enclosure, let along the public. In fact, the real point of our presence was hampered by the gap as well, although a brother monk might argue differently after two holes were blown into his leg. I thank my brethren for neatly shielding me from that early blast and congratulate the person who scored the direct hit. In other words, we made good the desired target of our society. Later reportage and some video evidence reveals that only three of my words were heard above the din (including “you’re pathetic!”).

Enjoying the fireworks display on the clergy stand, Southover Bonfire Society, East Sussex, UK. © Ian Cumming

Heaven!

Our people were in fine volume. Under a starry heaven they commanded us to burn and burn we did. Unbeknownst to me, one of us had strung 300,000 crackers directly underneath the stand. Whether they were set off by accident or design, I do not know but my word, there could be no sermonising from inside that inferno. Thick orange caustic smoke choked the stand. For half a minute we couldn’t see our own elbows, let alone any incoming objections, or breathe or do anything else other than stagger, dazed and overwhelmed. The punters roared their approval when we emerged spluttering out of the plume.

Prayers, Southover Bonfire Society, East Sussex, UK. © Ian Cumming

Introducing our prayers

Not trying to be above my station, I’d like the Society to consider a couple of improvements to our arrangements for the clergy stand. Firstly, I do think we could capitalise on our excellent fireworks by telling the crowd who we are and welcoming them back, with amplification. No-one wants to see the whole event converted into something so unrecognisably scientific that our martyrs of yesteryear would think themselves on another planet. The old traditions are best, with fire, with noise, with ordinary unaided proclamation. Yet it wouldn’t do any harm to have a few words shared with all of our massed supporters, to remind them who is responsible for the occasion, to thank them for their loyalty and to wish them back the following year.

Bonfire prayers in front of the Kings Head, Southover Bonfire Society, Lewes, East Sussex, UK. © Ian Cumming

Our prayers

My second proposal is much easier to organise: moving the stand much closer to the crowd. No self-respecting clergyman should have to wade through tons of cow shit to get to his pulpit!

→ Leave a comment

Posted in Archbishop, Archbishop's Correspondence, Bonfire, Lewes, Southover Bonfire Society

One Archbishop’s advice to another

Posted on 4 February 2013 | 4 Comments

Dear Archbishop Justin Welby,

Your enthronement in the Church of England job this morning prompts me into sharing some of my ecclesiastical wisdom with you. I am, after all, a slightly more experienced Archbishop. True, as Archbishop of Southover Bonfire Society, I only work one day a year but I have already given the top sermon and under what is generally accepted to be much harsher conditions than any lad in Canterbury will ever face down.

Not that it matters who is the hardest Archbishop. It’s not a competition. I wish you all the very best, as I’m sure you do me. You must be pretty good, what with having only worn the Bishops slightly less impressive pointy hat for a year and been an oilman before that. So from Archbishop to another, here’s a couple of tips to theological success.

First up, I’d advise getting used to crowd situations. I’m not sure whether you’ll ever have to deal with them very much in the dark but let’s assume you are. All around you there are people, your very congregation, making mischief with your manliness, so much that you can go deaf and as well as mad. My advice here is to wear ear plugs. Or perhaps you’ll skip through the crowds, in your somewhat gentler flock.

Secondly, you’ll be called upon to wax lyrical about spiritual shit on important occasions. Down here in Southover, we commemorate martyrs who gave up their lives, after much cruel punishment, for the right to read the Bible in English, instead of Latin. Their collective punishment reminds us most painfully of all the struggles around the world, for liberty. They died at the stake for what we believe in. Obviously, I have to admit that here our spiritual messages depart. Your predecessors have all (okay, I haven’t checked but I reckon it is all) blessed soldiers going off to murder people. Let’s be clear about that, the law says that it is murder but the soldiers have the ‘defence of war’. Sure, they might well be fighting in a just cause but it is their success, their glory that gets blessed, not their deaths. Allow me to be blunt here, if I might be so bold, your message here is there’s that commandment ~ thou shalt not kill ~ and, face it, you’re going to bless that. It doesn’t make any sense. Why not switch into not blessing wars and killing and all the bad stuff?

Well, I can’t chat all night. I’ve got a few other ideas but hey, perhaps you’d like to give me some tips on constructing good speeches. I didn’t get much of mine out this year. Frankly, it was too noisy. That said, my Commander in Chief (Have you got one?), said I could have amplification next year, so that could make a difference. All the same, I really could do with some help. Perhaps a consultancy role for yourself? You could come this year (its on a school night, I know, but I guarantee Lewes would give you a right and proper welcome), kick about around the town for a bit and then come up for a view from our clergy stand. Then afterwards we could have an Archbishop’s conference to discuss best strategy and tactics. Tennis rackets or giant strengthened leather cuffs? Grills or boarding underfoot? I’ll tell the other Archbishops in Lewes (there’s seven of us down here, sorry to brag) and put some diary dates to avoid aside. That’s great then, I’m looking forward to hearing from you already. A consultancy. Just imagine it.

Yours faithfully,

Archbishop Scrapper

→ 4 Comments

Posted in Archbishop, Archbishop, Archbishop's Correspondence, Bishops, Bonfire, Church of England, Justin Welby, Lewes, Martyrs, Religion, Southover Bonfire Society

Tagged , ,

Boycott The Flying Coffee Bean to resist corporate piracy in Sussex

Posted on 15 January 2013 | 3 Comments

A company trading as “DP The Drinks People” (I haven’t yet discovered their actual company name) has created a smaller company, trading as “The Flying Coffee Bean”, which is bidding for the franchises to run railway station cafes on the basis that it is a small local company. It already has a stall at Brighton station. It has been awarded the franchise to run the cafe on platform 2 in Lewes train station.

Consequently, the genuinely local businesswoman who has run that cafe since 1984 has been given notice to quit, despite her collecting 5,000 signatures in support of her continuing to operate her successful business.

Please sign this pledge (activated if 1,000 people sign) to avoid The Flying Coffee Bean at stations. Here’s a short link to share the pledge with: http://m1n.me/hC

There’s a reason why so many towns and cities are identical. It’s because we didn’t act to change the rules of the commercial game. Lewes has plenty of form for standing up to big businesses (witness the year long picket outside the Lewes Arms pub when it was taken over and refused to stock local ale. The new owners were defeated.)

The objectives of this pledge are:

(1) to reinstate the existing business owner 

(2) to maintain the character of Lewes

(3) to send an important message to large companies, telling them they cannot escape with corporate piracy.

Repel boarders!

→ 3 Comments

Posted in Lewes

Tagged

The Runaway has been chased away

Posted on 14 January 2013 | 1 Comment

One of the best railway station cafes in the UK has been given its marching orders by Southern Rail UK. The Runaway Cafe sits on the platforms at Lewes Station and has done for more years than most can remember. The late Diana Spencer, Princess of Wales, used to order their bacon sandwiches. Based on traditional values, the cafe played classical music and was frequented by the most eclectic mix of sandwich eaters imaginable. Here was its menu. Compare and contrast it with with the other railway eateries and then throw in the constant lively debate and exceptionally friendly atmosphere.

  • Fresh vegetable Lasagne served with French bread
  • Italian mixed antipasti – meats, cheeses, fish, olives, gherkins, sun-dried tomatoes, breads
  • Homemade fish pie cooked in a creamy sauce with a cheese and potato topping served with local bread
  • Crispy chicked goujons with a homemade chili sauce accompanied by malted french baguette

Mixed salad as accompaniment to any of the above £1.75

Specials

Soup

  • Eat in  with roll £2.98, without roll £2.65
  • Take away  with roll £2.55, without roll £2.25

Jacket potatoes with a filling of your choice:

  • Butter  £2.98
  • Beans  £3.48
  • Egg Mayo  £3.98
  • Cheese  £3.98
  • Tuna  £4.48
  • Prawns  £4.98
  • Chili con carne  £4.98

Additional topping £0.50 each

Toasted Sandwiches

  • Starting from £3.28 – name your choice

Everyone understands that we live in a culture of competitive tendering. The Flying Coffee Bean Ltd has been awarded the new tender. Apparently it offered to refurbish the cafe and sell the locally sourced produce it uses as ingredients, so that the customers can cook with them themselves at home. What’s so great about that? Doesn’t that just take business away from various businesses in Lewes?

The Runaway will cease trading at the end of February 2013. Until then, it promises to be one of the busiest cafes in the country! Afterwards, well, we’ll have to see. Despite having fed and watered the good travellers of Sussex for three decades, the Runaway’s director, Jacqueline Elsey, was informed of the decision by email. She was reported to say, “We’re in total shock.“

→ 1 Comment

Posted in Lewes, Railway Station, Runaway Cafe

Tagged

I waited 30 years to make a religious speech

Posted on 9 November 2012 | 2 Comments

When I was thirteen years old my English teacher at Varndean Comprehensive School informed me that I would be giving a presentation in the school’s Christmas Service, which was to take place at some local church. “No, I won’t be,” I replied. The teacher looked a little startled and asked why not? “Firstly, you haven’t asked me yet? You have to ask first. You can’t just tell me what to do, can you?” So she asked me to give the presentation. “No thanks,” I replied. Looking back, I can see why she was annoyed. I hadn’t planned that as a set piece exchange. I just bought some time to think with the first manoeuvre. She informed me that I couldn’t refuse and that I was going to do it anyway. “No, I’m not. I’m not even going to church service.” It was going to be out of school hours. What on earth made her think that I would give up any of my free time to help out with a religious service? Obviously, she couldn’t force me to go. Her whole approach had been clumsy and ill-thought through. Weakly, she asked why not? “I’m an atheist.“

For some reason, she took offence at this. She sent me to the Headmistress. You only ever got sent to Mrs Smithers if you were in dire trouble. She received me in her capacious study and asked to explain what the problem was. “There isn’t a problem,” said I. She wanted to know why I wouldn’t give a speech in church. Didn’t I like Christmas? “Not particularly but that’s not the point. I’m an athiest. I can’t give a speech in a church.” She didn’t get anywhere with me and that was pretty much the end of the episode. Since then I’ve given a couple of funeral eulogies but neither of them were in a conventional religious setting.

On Monday night, I dressed up as a senior religious figure, ascended a clergy stand on the outskirts of Lewes and attempted, in what can only be described as adverse circumstances, to sermonise before a lively crowd of miscreants, hell bent on destroying my chances of success. They won in their aim, I’m pleased to report. I’m the chap in the pointy hat.

Southover Bonfire Society leaves its fire site, 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

Southover Bonfire Society leaves its fire site, 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

Facing the crowd at all from this position was an act of faith which I doubt many in the real Church of England ever have to muster. The photo above was taken after the one below, which neatly describes a pause in the action, during which I managed to make a few words heard.

Southover Bonfire Society's clergy stand 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

Southover Bonfire Society’s clergy stand 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

After laying a spectacular firework show, blacked by smoke, mud thrown up by explosions and somewhat embattled, we went back to our spiritual home ~ the King’s Head public house on Southover High Street, to perform our prayers. Here we are just after leaving the fire site.

Southover Bonfire Society leaves its fire site, 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

Southover Bonfire Society leaves its fire site, 2012. Photograph by Chris Hughes. Reproduced by kind permission via his son.

All these photographs were taken by Chris Hughes, who has very generously allowed me to reproduce them here, despite me never having had the pleasure of meeting him. I’m grateful to his son for arranging the permissions.

‘Twas a beautiful night…

Southover Bonfire Society's clergy stand humbled below the heavens. Photograph by Chris Hughes.

Southover Bonfire Society’s clergy stand humbled below the heavens. Photograph by Chris Hughes.

The following pics are reproduced with the kind permission of Ian Cumming, who has been documenting all the Sussex bonfires in recent years…

image

image

The night ended, as ever, with our prayers. Here’s me introducing them:

image

These last three pictures are © Ian Cumming/icimages.com

→ 2 Comments

Posted in Archbishop, Bonfire, Lewes, Southover Bonfire Society

Tagged

Touching the cloth in Lewes

Posted on 8 November 2012 | 2 Comments

I very much hope that my new found role as Archbishop of Southover is not an appointment for life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very honoured to have been given the chance to perform it. I’m ready, willing and still able after this year’s adversities to step up onto the clergy stand for next year. However, one of the triumphing features of Southover Bonfire Society is that our members, new and old, are welcomed to contribute to all the society’s activities. Much as though I’m keen to continue, I trust that we won’t allow any safe pair of hands too rest to firmly on any one position.

I’m not wimping out. Far from it. In fact, I’ve been arguing that our stand was a little too far back from the enclosure containing our bonfire boys and belles. It could be moved forward. Perhaps by six or twelve feet. As if in recognition of this difficulty, one of us thoughtfully loaded the stand with firecrackers, which are easily set off by accident. Whether the timing was by design or otherwise I do not know but this burst caught me by surprise. Many people suffer extreme stress when speaking in public but, believe me, this unexpected complication blew me away. Looks pretty good from the camera man is standing too. In this clip, I’m standing roughly in the middle of the inferno.

Here we are again, from a different perspective, attempting to sermonise to what must be one of the most demonstrative congregations in England. You may be able to make out the odd word. Whole sentences were difficult, I admit. After my opening line (at 55 seconds in), the notion that I could construct a clever and controversial speech in the face of such circumstances became an increasingly hard act of faith to maintain. This video appears to show, immediately after the opening call for attention, “Ladies and Gentlemen,” an incoming rookie set off the crackers on the platform beside us. At 1:26 you can just about see one of our number ascending the ladder into the firestorm, as if he’s walking up the steps of his own house. Undeterred by the choking and caustic smoke, the heat, the noise and the relentless incoming missiles, I’m pleased to be verified (at 2 minutes) as attempting to carry on with the idea of whipping the crowd up any further. The rest of this video is our society’s fireworks.

The Archbishop of Borough Bonfire Society appears in the next video, making a sterling effort at sermonising to an equally hostile crowd. Their clergy stand seems to be much closer to the protesting mob than ours but they have, if I’ve understood the reports correctly, replaced their wooden platform with a metal grill, through which landing rookies can fall. That’s what it looks like on the video too. This neat idea may well be copied around Lewes. It allows much closer ‘rapport’ between the men of the cloth and those interested only in abusing those seeking ecclesiastical acclaim.

Next up is South Street Bonfire Society’s Archbishop and associated clergy, who appear content to manage on the traditional wooden boards but also at close quarters. Whether they managed any form of speech under this hectic barrage, I cannot say. I imagine, like amongst my brethen, a certain amount of blood was drawn there too. I’m thankful at having emerged unscathed myself.

I’ll add footage of the other clergy stands when they become available.

→ 2 Comments

Posted in Bonfire, Borough Bonfire Society, Lewes, South Street Bonfire Society, Southover Bonfire Society

Tagged

Sussex Police’s strategy for Lewes Bonfire was either incompetent or antisocial

Posted on 6 November 2012 | 10 Comments

As everyone knows, our bonfire traditions in Lewes stretch back nearly half a millenia. Having exhausted myself performing my own duties in them yesterday, as Master of Ceremonies and Archbishop of Southover Bonfire Society, I have insufficient energy left for a proper analysis of everything that they managed to cock up last night. I’ve always said that policing is a complicated job but the police approach to our cultural heritage last night lost the plot. For now, suffice it to say, that many of us bonfire boys and belles are questioning whether there is any longer any point in engaging with the police prior to the Fifth next year?

This year there were extensive negotiations over the last few weeks. Although I certainly cannot speak on behalf of my society in an official sense (I am not on its committee), it seems clear that we stuck to our side of the bargain struck but Sussex Police officers carried on as if we were the enemy. I will be returning to this subject again, in detail, later on.

Right now, in the name of conciliation, I would like to see Sussex Police issue an official apology for allowing its officers to break the operational agreements. Their attitude and their actions have generated, completely unnecessarily, considerable and unprecedented, in modernity at least, bad feeling.

The police are an expensive public service with a clearly organised command structure. Therefore, the problems they caused are the fault of those at the top. In nine days there will be an unwanted election for a politician to run the police. Is it possible that Sussex Police do not want a political leader and have chosen our event to pick a fight with several thousand of the most active citizens in the county town, so as to make the incoming politician face a really nasty challenge in their first year of office? This and a dozen other serious issues have arisen from last night.

For now, I’ll restrict myself to explaining one incident which I witnessed myself. We were forming up before the United Grand procession. Each society had four liaison officers. Their job description is unknown to me but I imagine that it was similar to all other police liaison officers. The clue is in the job title. Surely I don’t need to explain what that means? Communication with each society seems to be the key role. I was standing here:


View Larger Map

Behind me one of my brother monks lit some Chinese Crackers. Officer CT58, who was wearing a high visibility yellow jacket, marked with a sign which said, “BOROUGH”, was standing on the opposite pavement on the other side of the traffic island. I know because I noticed the way in which he turned around and marched purposively towards me and my brother monks. Politely, he asked the monk behind me to hand over his remaining crackers. To timestamp the moment, I tweeted something about it. It was 8:03pm.

My brother monk complied but protested, rightly, that we had a firm agreement with Sussex Police that Chinese Crackers would be allowed in the light of the rookie drop down ban on the High Street. I too left my place in the ranks to witness the entire exchange. Officer CT58 responded to my brother monk that, “Why would you light bangers directly in front of a police officer? That’s bound to attract my attention.” That statement is a self-serving lie. As I’ve explained, the Cracker was not lit directly in front of this or any other officer. In fact, this officer isn’t even supposed to dealing with our society but another one, which he abandoned in order to wade into business which was not his. He sought confrontation. I hope my society makes a specific complaint about him. I am ready to be a witness.

Calling everything which goes bang, a ‘banger’ betrays a complete lack of awareness of the main issues which were the subject of the extensive communications between the bonfire societies and the police prior to bonfire. Of course, people from outside of Sussex and Kent, who do not share our particular traditions, may find my insistence on the correct terminology somewhat pedantic. However, everyone in Lewes understands the importance of knowing what is what, especially in the context of last year’s injury surge and this year’s ban on the blue rookies.

Soon, another brother monk joined us and showed Officer CT58 a red rookie, thus easily demonstrating the very obviously physically different nature between a red rookie and a Chinese Cracker. Even a child of five would have been able to understand these were different types of fireworks. Given that there was a firm agreement in place allowing Chinese Crackers, we are left asking whether the police did anything at all to educate their officers as to the differences between various types of fireworks? Such training need only take five minutes. CT58 seemed unable or unwilling to understand the distinction being made to him, or the significance of it. He was joined by another officer. Our Commander in Chief stepped into the conversation. A number of others drew near. As if in recognition that he had created an incident, Officer CT58 insisted that he had been right to seize the Crackers and said to the other officer, who seemed less sure of his decision, “Look, there’s more and more of them around us now, there’s no need to turn this into an incident.” Those are the words of a man who deliberately started an incident and didn’t like the consequences. His was a highly provocative action. Luckily his colleague appeared to have a calming influence on him. Whether his colleague was a more senior officer I do not know. Both sides parted, with the Crackers still stolen from my brother monk. Here officer CT58, holding onto the seized crackers, which he put into a plastic bag. What does Sussex Police have to say about the behaviour of Officer CT58?

Officer CT58 breaking the agreed rules of Lewes Bonfire, 8:03pm, 5th November 2012

Officer CT58 breaking the agreed rules of Lewes Bonfire, 8:03pm, 5th November 2012. My brother monk’s face has been obscured in the best traditions of bonfire.

→ 10 Comments

Posted in Bonfire, Lewes, Southover Bonfire Society, Sussex Police

Tagged