Merda D’Artista

It’s Hallowe’en again, which if the Torygraph is to be believed will result in our streets being thonged with deranged hoodies, demanding sweets on pain of eggs and flour from decent, hard-working families all for some terrible thing that isn’t even proper British but American and is nothing like guising at all, oh no.

Disappointingly, there doesn’t seem to be much of a Satanic Panic going on this year, which is always good for a laugh.

Panics are always better when Satan is, as you like, invoked. Especially when it is put against Wicca, which is less of a sinister witch cult and more of a nature-loving thing invented by a civil servant from Liverpool.

I remember reading a book (not as far as I know affiliated with the Wicca in anyway) which mentioned making love potions.

Apparently you need a talisman from the person in question. The best thing was either a pubic hair or some of their menstrual blood. Which begs the question, if you are able to obtain either of these things either you don’t need the potion or you are a very disturbed individual.

But the day after Hallowe’en is All Saints’ Day. What’s more talismanic than all the saints in the world, all together on the same day, rocking out, as it were?

I’ve long been a fan of saints, the best thing about Catholicism in my opinion. You’ve got loads of them, for every eventuality, you can have new ones, there’s a hierarchy. If only they have avatars like in Hinduism they’d be perfect. I can see where the Candomblé people are coming from.

One of my favourite saint-related things are the so-called incorruptibles and the odour of sanctity. I have a horrible feeling that when I die, I won’t emanate a heavenly scent. It’ll probably smell strongly of hummus. The non-saint I consider to be a master of parodying such things has to be Piero Manzoni, who made efforts to preserve his breath and sell his shit.

Also every saint has a talisman, from St Sebastian and his arrows, to St Agatha and her hacked-off breasts.

What would your talisman be? And, is there a patron saint of blogging? Because there should be. I shall write to the Vatican about this forthwith.