A Plague of Cacophony Visits the 1999 Renaissance Faire
This is a turkey leg gnawed on by a stranger and discarded in a garbage can at the 1999 Renaissance Pleasure Faire.
Costumed as diseased 16th-century vagrants, Cacophonists visiting the fair dug this morsel out of the refuse, took turns gnawing at it, pretending to gnaw at it, dropping it in the muddy road and then scrambling through the filth for possession of this precious tidbit.  All in the interest of balancing the historical accuracy of the picture, of course.  This is one of my fondest memories of the fair.  Below are those of other participants
-- Rev. Al
FONDEST MEMORIES from Grammarian, Rich Polysorbate 60, Steven C, Mr. Outer Space
EVENT AGENDA as described in our monthly Calendar of Events.
(click on these for full view)
(Photos by Martha C. and Rich Polysorbate)
GRAMMARIAN'S FONDEST RECOLLECTIONS (Picture of him limping along)
1) Storming the stage and chasing off the legitimate entertainment, berating audience, getting booted offstage.
2) Getting lectured by security.
3) Getting kicked out (finally!) by security.  We only had to resort to robbery and assault to get kicked out.  We weren't even beheaded.
4) Hassling those who took our picture
5) The many genuine expressions of disgust at our truly filthy costumes/appearance, making some people slip out of character.
6) Chuckles brought a truly hard-to-keep-up-with spirit of utter chaos.  Standing on top of a hill, with a rotten potato in her hair, grunting.  Yay, Chuckles!!!
7) Group molestation of some guy named Rob at the request of one of his "friends." He was "amused."
8) Good group coordination at picking someone out of their crowd of friends, surrounding them, being very vile and bothersome.
9) Whipping the bald-headed wretch Michael P. and screaming "Jew! Christ Killer! Drinker of infants' blood!  You are damned!"
10) Rev.  Al does more the preside benignly over the acting out behaviors of others.  He caused a serious disturbance at a Taco Bell in San Bernardino.
(See his picture)


Although we as a bubonic mob were greatly outnumbered, we succeeded in at least scaring some parents and teaching youngsters a bit of more realistic history.  The fair -- once known as a place to become mindlessly drunk and to cop dope and  have sex with fat people in the mud  -- is now family-safe and thrives much more on commerce than even the L.A. County Fair.  Some highlights of the evening I list as follows:

1.) Being filthy, careless, and wretched, thereby representing a larger portion of the populace that actually thrived and existed in the time of the Renaissance as opposed to the generic representation the fair flaunted to its tourists and Fabio clones.
2.) Showing people eating food what rabies, boils, pus wounds, scabs, spittle and other various body fluids looked like.
3.) Tanya having a bikers tongue shoved down her throat unexpectedly after she spewed out sickness and religious hysteria.
4.) Eating out of trash cans and flinging scavenged morsels at those unlucky enough to be in the way of the flight of this greasy filth not fit for a mongrels' stomach.
5.) Groping, hugging,and picking the pockets of daintily dressed Renaissance drama queens -- all of whom clearly didn't really want their expensive costuming touched, much less soiled.
6.) Intimidating people dressed as monks (although I suspect that they secretly enjoyed this attention) and showing them self-inflicted wounds so as to demonstrate our true standing with the Lord of Suffering.
7.) Being a despicable nuisance to vendors and all decent fair goers everywhere for the sake of historical accuracy.
8.) Scaring and pestering little Goth girls who have no concern or any idea how people felt wearing their putrid hair shirts, giant wooden repentance beads, and festering wounds.
9.)  Unplanned moments of delusion spastic dancing in the fit of hunger and for the sake of kicking up dirt and dust to scare demons and witches away.
10.) The growing legions of security who eventually asked us to just please leave and not talk to anyone on the way out.
11.) The wretched whores, wenches, and sluts who put the menfolk to shame in their readiness in making a public nuisance of themselves.

I, being DEATH, did hardly anything except ring my dreaded bell, wear my hood, and bump into people because I couldn't see...but I was there in spirit.....Sin

Rich Polysorbate 60*

STEVEN C. REFLECTS   (Steven radiates disease.)
Compared to taking the stage a damning the spectators to hell, my recollections are rather tame.  It was indeed fun to truly frighten or gross out the fairegoers by squatting in the streets, speaking to them in bubonics (oarrehgooorr) offering up bits of rotting flesh, a hearty handshake and a pat on the back, a foamy kiss with a bloody mouth, or my favorite --  just using the good people as human shields while tormenting each other.  It's a shame that we were not expert pickpockets, as we had some excellent diversions going.

MR. OUTER SPACE REMEMBERS  (The one drooling))
Because I'm a very self-righteous person (read: a jerk), I have no qualms about interrupting the day to day banality of things around me.  And thank God for Cacophony, it makes the difference between being a lone nut and being a nut in good company.  Antisocial behavior is best enjoyed among friends after all.  Accordingly, it was a unique and singular joy to traipse around the so-called Rennaissance Faire pestering the I-read-the-hobbit-four-times-last-year crowd with a bunch of like-minded hooligans offering dose of real Renaissance debauchery.  Call us bad people if you will, but being covered in filth and foaming at the mouth while you cling to the leg of someone wearing a two hundred dollar pair of pristine velvet pantaloons who uses the word "ye" in conversation is my idea of social justice.  I mean, if you don't want me to rub my pustules on your arm, then just stay home.  Were going to hell anyway, so why not drool blood on some gawker wearing a Marilyn Manson T-shirt and have some fun?  To the credit of the organizers of the Fair(e), they put up with an awful lot of  our nonsense before they kicked us out.  The next day my mom called me and asked what I'd been up to.  When I told her, she said, "doesn't that kind of spoil the fun for everyone else?".    I just sighed and changed the subject.
Cacophony doesn't begrudge anyone the opportunity to squeeze into their corsets, pad ye olde codpiece, and role-play your way into social acceptance.  But let's remember that the Renaissance was not just Woodstock with jousting.  It wasn't about milling about in your leather doublet and neon fanny pack, buying hand-dipped candles, getting henna tattoos, or watching pansy-assed jugglers in shimmery costumes.  Sure, they had fairs when they were out of witches and heretics to burn. But what about the cockfights?  The bull baiting?  The chained boxing bear ready to go a few rounds with the first besotted fairgoer willing to lose an ear or an eye?  With an eye toward contributing some authenticity, Cacophonists are going to be all over this fair like fleas on a dog plague-carrying fleas.  Taking as our theme the bubonic plague, we'll costume ourselves in rags (ideally buried underground for a couple weeks first), add some artificial boils and necrotic makeup, cobble together some wooden crutches or crude prosthetics, and then go wandering amidst jolly fairgoers, spitting blood, scratching, and sloughing off dead tissue.  Maybe self-flagellation and screaming about the wrath of God will help too.  Please don't feel restricted in costuming as there were many disgusting body-rotting ailments  (leprosy, scrofula, smallpox, etc.).