A Plague of Cacophony
Visits the 1999 Renaissance Faire
a turkey leg gnawed on by a stranger and discarded in a garbage can at
the 1999 Renaissance Pleasure Faire.
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
MEMORIES from Grammarian, Rich
Polysorbate 60, Steven C, Mr.
AGENDA as described in our monthly Calendar of Events.
FROM THE FAIR
on these for full view)
IT IN THE ROAD
by Martha C. and Rich Polysorbate)
FONDEST RECOLLECTIONS (Picture
of him limping along)
Storming the stage and chasing off the legitimate entertainment, berating
audience, getting booted offstage.
Getting lectured by security.
Getting kicked out (finally!) by security. We only had to resort
to robbery and assault to get kicked out. We weren't even beheaded.
Hassling those who took our picture
The many genuine expressions of disgust at our truly filthy costumes/appearance,
making some people slip out of character.
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.
of some guy named Rob at the request of one of his "friends." He was "amused."
Good group coordination at picking someone out of their crowd of friends,
surrounding them, being very vile and bothersome.
Whipping the bald-headed wretch Michael P. and screaming
"Jew! Christ Killer! Drinker of infants' blood! You are damned!"
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
(See his picture)
POLYSORBATE ("DEATH") FONDLY REMEMBERS
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:
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.
Showing people eating food what rabies, boils, pus wounds, scabs, spittle
and other various body fluids looked like.
Tanya having a bikers tongue shoved down her throat unexpectedly after
she spewed out sickness and religious hysteria.
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'
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.
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.
Being a despicable nuisance to vendors and all decent fair goers everywhere
for the sake of historical accuracy.
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.
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.
The growing legions of security who eventually asked us to just please
leave and not talk to anyone on the way out.
The wretched whores,
wenches, and sluts who put the menfolk to shame in their readiness
in making a public nuisance of themselves.
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*
C. REFLECTS (Steven
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
OUTER SPACE REMEMBERS (The
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.
BUBONIC PLEASURE FAIRE EVENT AGENDA BY REV. AL (The
one picking sores.)
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.).