Smiling beatifically and showering royal waves, Stevie Winder and his cousin Etain Winder looked a right pair of fools as their vehicle a convertible sports car decorated with a silly face at the front led off the parade of the Festival Of Amadans through Dublin s bemused streets.
About a hundred amadans, some on stilts, made their way down O Connell Street to the tribal sound of drumming. A woman, wearing a silver dress with shell boobs attached and a placard that said 40 per cent woman, 60 per cent bike brought O Brien s novel The Third Policeman back to life by rushing over and fondling any bikes she passed, simultaneously brandishing a saddle in the air.
Meanwhile, a prison escapee terrorised bystanders until he was caught and thrown to the ground by a policeman with LONG ARM written on his sleeves, while elsewhere swordplay repeatedly broke out between two more pugnacious morons. A man smartly dressed in a suit strolled about with his meringue-like bride, perfectly normal in appearance but for the cardboard box on his head.
As we neared our destination, Grogan s Pub on South William Street, another joker handed me a flyer advertising Ireland s first International Shoplifters Convention at the Jervis Street Shopping Centre. EVERYTHING MUST GO! roared the flyer. Redistribute the World s Resources! DIY Ecology Tax on Transglobal Exploitation 1000s of Great Prizes JUST HELP YOURSELF!
bronze effigy
The pub, a longtime haunt of Dublin s literati, soon filled up with the fools and many other lovers of Flann O Brien, also known as Myles na Gopaleen. There followed a rowdy Nonsense Poetry Slam, and then the festivities staggered on to a wake for Myles at the Palace Bar on Fleet Street, where a beautiful bronze effigy of the writer s face, sculpted by Vincent McGaughan, was put in a place of honour.
Well-jarred by now, we moved on to the final leg of the fool s journey, up to the Ierne Ballroom on Parnell Square for the election of the King of Unrule 1998. Candidates had been required to openly and shamelessly court attention, power and publicity , get votes at all costs and by any means, dirty or otherwise, available to you , and accept that you will be sacrificed the following year to make way for the new king the most honourable honour of all.
Candidates for election included Big Chief Random Ireland; Prionsias de Martini Rossa of the Sin Fun Drinkers Party (his slogan: Buy that child a pint! ); Danny Kavanagh, who ran on a Release Serial Killers ticket; and Danny Rogers, the Foolosopher Candidate. They all clambered on-stage to do their party pieces, accompanied by great music from the Naked DJ of Turin who remained fully clothed until the final hour, when he appeared wearing nowt but a couple of records round his privates.
pork sausages
I ve always been fascinated by the figure of the fool, Stevie Winder, the self-appointed Abbot of Unreason and the main organiser of the Festival of Amadans, reflected afterwards. The last fools festivals were actually banned in Europe around the 15th century, because they slagged off the church and state. There was one crowd called the Boufons in France they were composed of cripples who went into churches and re-enacted the mass, except they used pork sausages instead of bread. (laughs) They were very blasphemous at the time. There was another crowd of French fools in the 13th and 14th centuries, and wanking and masturbating in church was the thing they went for.
There s a number of Irish versions as well. There was a type of filidh [poet], called an oinseneach. They had pagan roots, and it s all to do with a rebirthing thing where the oppressed dress up as kings for the day. This swopping is a very old tradition which always made fun of the authorities and the elite, big time.
Stevie and Etain plan to make the Festival of Fools a yearly event.
It s kind of a vocation, I find, Stevie laughed. In a world which is becoming so technological and taking itself very very seriously, and filthy lucre is the basis of everything, I think people should have a madcap forum where they can say whatever they like and get away with a lot more, like the old fools did. n