Lost Vagueness

Going to the chapel and we’re, gonna get ma-a-a-arried…

29 Jun 2003

Wandering around Lost Vagueness, vaguely lost, with aching feet but caring not a jot, it was the sweet melody of ‘Chapel Of Love’ coming from the Love & Loathe section that played a cheesy chord with yours truly. Yet another Glastonbury knot-tying ceremony; somebody get some rice but make sure it’s not cooked.

It’s a bit more like a perverse satanic wake than a betrothal temple. Kinky red lights highlighting half naked nuns chainsmoking tabs as they pole-dance around the stage ropes, including one with a suspicious bulge and at least three day's worth of beard. Nuns have certainly changed since I was a lad, it seems.

The minister for marriage today is ‘Ah joiynin’ this maaayaan aaaayaand this woooommaaan!’ and comes straight from the pits of Hades. ‘Lucky’ couple Brian and Nicola from Woolwich are both in drag,(although it must be said that she looks better as a man than he does as a woman, but never mind) and Brian in particular looks terrified.

Whether because of the fact that the bloke who’s marrying them is fiendishly disturbing, or because of the sudden realization that ‘Let’s go get married, go on, it’ll be a laugh...’ said under the influence of scrumpy and skunk has actually had stark consequences, is not for me to say. Maybe the blue leotard wasn’t his ideal choice of matrimonial apparel, I don’t know.

‘I do!’ They cry and ‘Hallelujah!’ we all retort, and for a moment, it’s actually a little happy spot of tranquility as the wedding march recedes and it’s time for the next wedding party. As the happy couple exit stage right and contemplate organizing an impromptu reception somewhere around a tipi, they are fairly casual about the whole thing all of a sudden.

‘Because it’s fun!’ Nicola giggles through her pencil-drawn facial hair and swampingly oversized scarecrow clothing, when asked why they did it.

So when did you decide to do it?’

‘Yesterday!’, she bellowed proudly. ‘We just decided to do it, asked and they said ‘OK, tomorrow afternoon’, we’re just in love and it’s great!’

Fair brings a lump to your throat doesn’t it?

Paul Mills


   
     
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