Dr. Sebastian Brackenridge, world famous Demigod and Supernatural historian, social media influencer, pet video posting aficionado, and one of the gayest men in Great Britain has been invited to the well known Soddington Arts Trust, located in the historic Soddington Abbey, in St. Andrews, Scotland to give a lecture about Gorgons. Outrageous, never serious and a huge ham, Dr. Brakenridge leaves the crowd shocked in this hysterical parody of a BBC program.
Dr. Sebastian Brackenridge, world famous Demigod and Supernatural historian, social media influencer, pet video posting aficionado, and one of the gayest men in Great Britain has been invited to the well known Soddington Arts Trust, located in the historic Soddington Abbey, in St. Andrews, Scotland to give a lecture about Gorgons. Outrageous, never serious and a huge ham, Dr. Brakenridge leaves the crowd shocked in this hysterical parody of a BBC program.
Announcer:
You are listening to DBN: Demigod Broadcasting Network and this Exploring Olympus. Good afternoon, my name is Elizabeth Alfreda Brinley Smite and I will be your host for this lecture series. We are broadcasting with a live studio audience from the historic Soddington Abbey, located in the breathtaking town of St. Thomas, Scotland, on the coast of Fife.
Today’s special guest lecturer is one that I have known for many years and I am incredibly proud to call a very distant acquaintance. It was during his early years at Oxford University that our guest made his first of many discoveries: A previously unknown Saxony tomb dating back to 600 A.D, containing what was thought to be a mummified unicorn. However, after thorough investigation it was determined to be a cross-dressing Hippogriff, a first of its kind and rather groundbreaking discovery in this part of Great Britain. Our guest speaker went on to become a world famous Supernatural and Demigod Historian, hosted his own television series titled, “Let’s see what we can discover” and has established himself as a social media influencer and pet video posting aficionado. It is my pleasure to present, Dr. Sebastian Brackenridge, as he enlightens us about Gorgons.
Dr. Sebastian Brackenridge:
Thank you Elizabeth and of course, Brava, Soddington Arts Trust! Well, hello chickens. Isn’t this a fine kettle of fish. It’s apparently a brave new world when the likes of me stand on the very stage that Margaret Thacher, Winston Churchill, and Anne Bolin once stood. I’ve often wondered why prestigious organizations like the Abbey would tempt fate by giving someone like me, who is both unpredictable and controversial, a room full of people, a microphone, and no restrictions on what subject or what words are about to come out of my mouth. I’m so excited I could just spit and I never do that. Literally, when I got the call for this opportunity, my first reaction was, “are you serious? And right before I opened the main cathedral door and step through, I was pretty surprise I didn’t burst flames or not a single statue cried tears of blood. Kind of disappointing, when you think of it. So, I, needing to be the center of attention, I want everyone to put down your phones because we all know the trials and tribulations in Candy Crush world can wait and lets see if my little song and dance is of interest to you. And let’s be perfectly honest, having eye candy like me to look at should be enough. So, let’s begin. ?
Gorgon. Latin, derived from the Ancient Greek word, Γοργών (Whoregon), meaning grim, terrifying and dreadful. There are few words in supernatural society that strike more fear than the word Gorgon. That is, of course, if you exclude words like moist and panties, which I find more disgusting rather than the horror associated with the gorgons and lest we forget the terror associated with ordering a non-fat soy latte and finding whipped cream on the top. I mean, what has the world come to? So, yes, we are led to believe they’re scary, ugly and able to kill with a single glance, but is that really all there is to it? Would a television make-over help or do the gorgons remind us of what the Olympians did to the supernatural and demigod community. A history we are all too ready to push away? Could Medusa and her sisters be the first documented case for the Me Too movement? Did the Olympians ruin what was once a very fashionable toga trend.
Those familiar with the mythos surrounding the Gorgons understand the following:
It all began with a young maiden named Medusa and her unwillingness to conform to the Ancient Greek definition of what a woman was. In other words be good, obey your parents, don’t touch your Suzy while in public, get married, obey your husband and spend the rest of your days scrubbing floors and changing nappies as you push out one baby after another. Doesn’t that sound delightful? I can’t wait to get married! This concept horrified Medusa and she rebelled against her parents, deciding to become chaste priestess, preferring solitude and prayer in The Temple of Athena known in modern times as the Parthenon. However, finding solitude was not easy for the glamorous girl about town. It was said her milkshake brought all the boys to the yard and she soon became the talk of Athens as word spread about the priestess whose astounding kindness and grace were matched equally with her breathtaking beauty. She literally was the Becky of every group. Don’t you dare look at me that way! We all know a becky and we all hate her. The sight of Medusa left some to fall on their knees and begin violently masturbating as they scream, “Hey, Baby, like what you see” or equally demeaning, “Prayer isn’t the reason I’ll get you on your knees!” Keep in mind, fire island 2015, the same thing happened to me and it was indeed concerning and a slight turn on. But Medusa ignored the catcalls and lusty glances, guarding her virginity as was required and continued her life of charity, prayer and compassion until that one fateful day after highlights and a deep conditioning treatment her luxurious tresses of spun gold caught the eye of Poseidon, God of the Sea. Like the kingdom he ruled over, Poseidon was rather temperamental and a bit of a man whore who knew his way around the occasional swinger and key party and was rumored to be a regular attendee of New York’s infamous Studio 54. Like all Olympians and trump supporters, he believed it was his right to take whatever he wanted, regardless of the danger he put the object of his obsession and others in by doing so.
Poseidon set his sights on Medusa and it didn’t matter in the least that Medusa served in the temple of his Olympian rival, Athena. Truth be told, I’m sure Poseidon found it delicious the young maiden served in Athena’s temple and enjoyed the opportunity of giving Athena the middle finger. He was more than miffed for having lost the wager he had with Athena regarding who was top dog deity of choice for the City of Athens. However, the maiden, in a respectful and genteel manner, told Poseidon to “Sod off, wanker, I’m a lady.” My extensive research shows this reaction might have something to do with a fish allergy Medusa had suffered from since birth. Naturally, if he looked anything like Jason Samoa, I would have kept an epipen and bottle of calamine lotion around. Somebody has to take one for the team. Fearing for her safety, Medusa begged her sisters, Steno and Euryale to help hide her in the Temple of Athena, thinking Poseidon would never look for her there. Unfortunately, Poseidon did find her and while he was forcing himself onto the maiden, Medusa called out to Athena for help. Athena, a somewhat selfish and vain Goddess who was known for wearing way too much cover girl makeup, loving to sport a cate plus 8 haircut (from season 2) and hairy arm pits, was more than slightly jealous of Medusa’s beauty. She was horrified to see her temple being violated because we all know some stains do not come out of marble. So, she took out her wrath on Medusa, as Medusa pleaded for her sisters’ release, where she took full responsibility for her own rape. Becky, get off the cross, someone needs the wood. But Athena saw Medusa wrinkle her nose at the arm pit stains on the goddess’s tunic (a total Becky move) and she decided that was well beyond the pale.
Athena’s horrific punishment transformed the three sisters into creatures so terrifying and hideous that to look upon them would turn the spectator into stone, which might I add was very rude indeed, and thereby ensuring the sisters’ dance cards would remain permanently blank. To make matters worse because Athena loved her drama, the forlorn sisters soon discovered living among Athenian society would generally be frowned upon, as their short journey home left many Grecian citizens with the awkward task of dealing with a ridiculous amount of unflattering statues resembling family members and friends, who mysteriously disappeared the very day the sculptures were discovered. Within a day, the streets of Athens were very untidy indeed, think New York after Midnight on December 31, having been papered over with missing person scrolls. The Hellenic Woman’s club for the beautification of Athen’s streets, parks and squares, a group of women who were beyond anal and not in the good way, were scandalized at how these scrolls and statues were haphazardly placed throughout the city with little concern for balance, color and overall Feng Shui. Not to be outdone, the Athenian Association of very critical art critics did not hold back as they viciously panned the unknown and mysterious Sculptor as a one note failure. Although I should note the statues soon found a global cult following and can be found in the gardens of the nobility and glitterati alike.
Unable to keep up with the public’s demand for more sculptures, fame can be so tiring as the money kept rolling in from everywhere, Medusa decided it was time to give up living in Athens. To add insult to injury, members of a new cult calling itself Worshipers of the Gorgonian race had begun climbing the three sister’s garden walls in hopes of achieving some sort immortality by becoming a Gorgon work of art that could grace an Athenian villa, public square, or if the person had been posed correctly, a public toilet. Witnesses overheard Medusa bemoaning the cost of statue shipping considering cart and ship transport prices had gone through the roof. Euryale, the long suffering and passive aggressive sister who had the most disgusting wart on her upper lip, had grown weary of dealing with returns and manning the customer complaint department. How many times can a girl state, “Well, I am sorry but all sales are final”, or “sorry, no, we don’t do groups, this isn’t a Sears Portrait Studio”. Even if Euryale hired people to help with order fulfillment, which she did, her sister, Steno had the annoying habit of playing peek-a-boo with new employees and we can certainly guess how each game ended. As for Steno, well, she was the Forest Gump of the group as she had always been a few sandwiches short a picnic. The Gorgon transformation had impacted her poor mind (God bless her pea size brain) so much that the two other sisters grew increasingly frustrated with dealing with the statue business and Steno’s new habit of greeting her sisters by cutting wind so loudly birds would take flight, only to fall to the ground and shatter, which Steno would leave for the others to clean-up. This also happened with squirrels, rabbits, ground hogs and skunks. So the three Gorgon sisters established residency on a remote island often referred to as the Isle of Sunset or the Island of the Dead.
There they live to this very day, leaving many Athenians and the last few Gorgonian worshipers to wonder what became of the three sisters. As the sisters were never heard from again, the legend surrounding their horrific appearance and their inability to find a decent maid or gardener, the Gorgon sisters’ legend grew as fear of them spread among human and demigod societies.
So that brings us to present day as I am sure many of you are dying to ask why would Dr. Sebastian Brackenridge, world famous historian and social media icon, want bring up the Gorgons because it’s very unlikely anyone has recently had the opportunity to sit down for a cuppa with a Gorgon, and besides, is there anything new about the sisters? Well, to those nay sayers, I say rubbish. There might actually have been a few people to enjoy this magical creature’s hospitality. Even if very few lived to tell the tale, based on my theory of, if it doesn’t exist it probably does, copyright pending, there certainly would have to be at the very least one or two individuals who were not turned into a birdbath. A peer and close friend, Dr. Emily Watsworth Movella, who specializes in spectral psychology, including the examination of how an overabundance of ectoplasm could be tied to madness or possibly to sexual arousal in those beings who exist in-between our world and the underworld, convinced me otherwise and urge me on by saying to me, “Dr. Brackenridge, World Famous Historian, who is many times removed a distant cousin of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II and number 12,456 in line to the British throne, you must continue your research to the very end, no matter the conclusion. I was both shocked and taken aback, my first reaction was to say, “You silly fag hag, for the last time, I’m gay, now please put your skirt and blouse back on. However, that push and the sight of Dr. Watsworth Movella’s cottage cheese thighs was what I needed. My desire to know the truth drove me to such distraction that I didn’t even return the calls of my very own personal shopper at Harrods during the annual 50% off all men’s fashion sale. And before I could say, “Mother, knock before entering my bedroom, I found it, and this is how a randy faun and a book started my investigation.
I present, for your consideration, the interesting case of Sir Jeffrey Keenan, of Ballater, Scotland. Sir Jeffrey, a rather striking demigod, was a faun. A faun is a supernatural half human–half goat demigod, who first made a most inappropriate appearance around 700 B.C. during a garden party given by the Goddess Persephone. Additionally, Sir Jeffrey had the distinction of being directly connected to the satyr subset, which lends to my research a clear explanation for why he suffered from a constant erection and an intolerable inability to wear skinny jeans.
Sir Jeffrey was known for his supernatural ability of persuasion, an ability to charm anyone to do whatever he wanted by simply playing his pan flute. I must state that this was quite an ability because the sound of a pan flute is hated about as much as music from Yanni and Enya combined. In addition to his musical talents, Sir Jeffrey had the ability to transform between his mortal and faun physical forms easily, thereby becoming both extremely hairy and, when aroused, rather naughty indeed. This last fact was noted by many of his male and female conquests, as Sir Jeffrey considered himself an equal opportunity player. Let me be clear, I’m of the mindset that everyone should simply pick a team. None of this, “ahhhhh, I don’t like labels… or it’s about who the person is…. Or catfishing on Grindr…. I mean, really….. But I digress.
He was also known for his comedic timing due to his short-lived career as a stand-up comedian, in which fans would always welcome Sir Jeffrey to the stage by shouting the question, “Hey Jeffrey, what’s under your kilt.” to which he would reply “your mother’s lipstick” or something equally vulgar, which I will not detailed at this moment. What most didn’t know about Sir Jeffrey was that he was also an undercover reporter for the Demigod Inquirer, a local Olympian rag that dealt with all sorts of sordid topics that are not discussed in polite company. (And before you ask, I only have a subscription to it for research sake….well, and the page 4 hunk). He wrote under the gossip columnist pen name of Lady Lillian Graham Swallows. I have concluded it was this secret identity that led to Sir Jeffrey’s untimely disappearance.
It was during the summer of 2016 when our determined reporter/comedian decided he needed a break from the Scottish Highlands, as he had grown tired of leaning up against trees and prancing around in meadows waiting for someone to satisfy his unquenchable lust. So off he went to the Grecian Island of Mykonos for some sun, warmth and perhaps a little romance. Romance was exactly what he found with numerous partners, but per journal entries, all paled in comparison to his final conquest, a beautiful woman with, and I quote him had , “the most unusually bright green eyes and a slight greenish, somewhat scaly complexion problem.” At the time Sir Jeffery attributed the latter to a combination of dry skin and what he assumed must be a chronic case of motion sickness for the olive skinned stranger. According to the bartender with the most unfortunate name of Miss Diamond Gavatitis, who was a college student working summers on Mykonos, Sir Jeffrey did not waste any time seducing the reluctant, yet very mysterious beauty, and after several songs on his Pan Flute, including the all-time favorite ‘The Bonny Lass of Fyvie-o, along with several straight shots of tequila and numerous boiler makers, witnesses had the pleasure of seeing Sir Jeffrey prance around wearing the woman’s black brazier as goggles and the woman’s combination spanx and grannie panties as a somewhat floppy hat. By all accounts most bar patrons were amazed at how Sir Jeffery managed to remove said garments without a protest from the lady in question. Stavros, the blind beggar, who is neither blind nor destitute, collaborates that the couple soon left the tavern and made their way, stumbling, towards the hotel Athena, where Hotel registry show Sir Jeffrey was staying. Of course this wasn’t Sir Jeffery’s first trip to the land of carnal delights, as demonstrated by his conquest list I discovered in his little black book… ah, forgive me… little black books that were neatly arranged in his study, living room, dining room and bedroom, of course the water closet, and finally the historical back-up of black books created on a ditto machine… if you don’t know what that is, don’t bother asking. It was clear he was a filthy slut, along with preferring a bachelor’s life filled with no consequences for who he did and what he did to them/ on them. I have noted that Sir Jeffrey also prided himself on disregarding any local and national ordinances against deviant sexual behaviors that require an audience and the use of pyrotechnics.
But one thing stood out: He always seemed to have an escape plan that he employed consistently after completion of the sexual act. Please see the process graph and Gantt chart I have provided as a pre-read for this lecture. They will demonstrate how Sir Jeffrey employed his supernatural modus operandi of escape by allowing his physical transformation to occur thereby becoming an electrologist’s nightmare. If you do not have the pre-read I am happy to provide copies upon request. What would happen is Sir Jeffrey’s lower half became covered in a heavy pelt of sable colored fur and his feet would transformed into hooves. But that’s not all as his rather rounded face thinned and elongated, contorting itself into a constant leer while his ears and nose became significantly pronounced. Finally, his transformation would come to an end once blackish horns protruded just above his hairline. At this moment it was expected for the damsel currently occupying his bed to become greatly distressed, thereby prompting the maiden to rush out of the room for the sake of escape. Except for this time as Sir Jeffrey discovered the woman tangled in the sheets found his newly acquired physical traits not in the least bit alarming, but rather charming, applauding after the transformation was complete and laughing in delight. The reason for her reaction was revealed when the woman herself presented Sir Jeffrey with her own transformation into a gorgon. You are correct. The woman was one of the two remaining Gorgonian sisters who for propriety sake, we will not mention which sister it was. Although I will admit my tongue loosens up after a drink or two. Jeffrey’s mood quickly went from shock to tremendous relief as the Gorgon did not turn him into a piece of statuary because she noticed a part of Sir Jeffrey was already hard as stone and she fancied having a bit of a go with the charming faun. So after things quieted down, and the Gorgon fell asleep, spooning Sir Jeffrey, the faun hatched a plan. He realized that had been presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity to not only become an author of great note, but to also expense his entire vacation to the newspaper. This latter idea comes as no surprise to the supernatural community as fauns are well known for their obsessive coupon cutting and are said to be able to squeeze two pounds out of a single pence. He set his mind to charm and probe the Gorgon for as many facts about the life and times of the creature, including details that are best left out for the sake of discretion and modesty.
Two weeks later, after a tearful goodbye, the Gorgon charmed into believing it would never work out due to the woodland nature of a faun and the lack of space Sir Jeffrey’s flat had for the unexpected statuary that could turn up when you’re roommate was a gorgon, the gorgon exited Sir Jeffrey’s life. This obnoxious cad didn’t even have the decency to wait and wave goodbye to the tearful and heavily veiled Gorgon, and immediately sat down to write about his adventures, noting down each and every tidbit the delusional creature had been charmed into revealing.
The result was not an article or expose, but a blustery book published by the paper, titled “Exposing the Gorgonian Truth” with the alternate title, “Is that a writhing viper in our bed or are you just happy to see me.” Although panned by every supernatural book reviewer as a piece of filth that was best suited to line the cage of an incontinent bog howler, the book was a smashing hit with the sort of people who didn’t know which fork to use for the various courses of dinner, and were most likely to purchased books wrapped in brown wrappers. I, of course, read the book…. For research sake.
Included in the lurid, work peddled as non-fiction, were a myriad of tidbits and a surprisingly scientific catalog of the habits, likes and dislikes of the once very feared Gorgon. Public opinion against the book point to liberties the author took to embellish his sexual prowess because anyone worth their weight in Harpy tears knows Fauns are not known for their love making technique. The unfortunate person falling under the Faun’s spell have often remarked that they have taken longer opening up a jar of olives than it took for the Faun to reach…..completion. I mean why even bother taking off your clothes… just stare at the poor, tired piece of meat and that should be good enough.
An example of what demigod society were surprised to learn were as follows:
Gorgons were incredibly talented gardeners. Boxwood hedges, no matter how overgrown, could be transformed into the most beautiful shapes with a few simple strikes of a gorgon’s forked tongue and it was noted that even their fiery glance could cut through a tree limb 10 inches thick. As for weeds, well, they certainly didn’t stand a chance in a Gorgon’s garden, which is why they never bothered to take root. Being ripped from the ground is one thing. Being burned into oblivion with a Gorgon glance was quite another. And yes, even though a Gorgon had their issues with their appearance not always being aesthetically pleasing in their true monstrous form, flowers, crops and anything growing in their garden seemed to possess a supernatural beauty and robust constitution for production overabundance.
The other thing most didn’t know about Gorgons was that they weren’t always in the form of the horrible visage they are known for. When sensing danger or any situation that the Gorgon herself didn’t particularly care for, the Gorgon could transform into the ultimate statue making machine. Otherwise they appeared not only normal looking, but they were in fact strikingly beautiful. One noted item that wasn’t a surprise to readers was that Gorgons could be very temperamental. For example, the disappointment of receiving a sweater in a color that wasn’t flattering for someone who sometimes sported a scaly, green complexion, could set a gorgon off. But tell me, does orange really look good on anyone?
Readers were shocked to learn that Gorgons love to host dinner parties and Potlucks and that they had a hording problem when it came to church recipe books authored by Lutheran or Baptist woman. Their favorite hors devours recipes include Bonnie Frederick’s Ambrosia salad, Granny-bird Pabst’s pigs in a blanket and Marsha Calhoun’s Wi-ki-ki meatballs. Gorgons could make amazing sculptures, using either ice or numerous flavors/layers of jell-o. Their dinner tables are a delight to behold and apparently seating charts are mulled over for weeks on end, which is why a Gorgon could fly into a rage if one of her dinner guests didn’t show up after RSVPing that they would. Now this fact I have no problem with. At the very least one should send a replacement. Fashion followers were thrilled to find out that one of the sisters was a fashion designer, responsible for trends followed by iconic fashion houses worldwide. This Gorgon sister was so talented and well thought of that a certain magazine editor in chief of what some refer to as the fashion bible herself often consults with her. I’ll give you one guess, she doesn’t wear Prada. Some of the Gorgon’s designs have been found on the red carpet of such notable events as The Cannes Film Festival, The Academy Awards and the grand openings of Planet Hollywood restaurants. Her Majesty, Queen Elisabeth I, Katherine the Great, Ethel Merman and Phyllis Diller were favorite patrons of the designer.
Some facts that got a few laughs from readers was that one of the Gorgon sisters was incapable of resisting a church bazaar or craft fair and she was known to make hundreds of toiletpaper covers in the shape of dolls sporting wide skirts in a single night. Woe be the person who passed the heavily veiled sister’s table and did not purchase one of the toilet paper cover dolls, a macramé plant holder in the shape of an owl, wire art depicting various Grecian monuments or one of the numerous crochet pot holders done in some of the most interesting, if not off-putting designs.
People were shocked to find out that Gorgons didn’t fancy sexy negligees, preferring 100% cotton night dresses that would have looked at home in Ma’s closet on Little house on the Prairie. Another shocking entry that drew gasps by many of the Supernatural Axillary club for non-male demigods was that the two surviving Gorgon sisters weren’t terribly upset about the death of their sister Medusa at the hand of Perseus, but were rather perplexed at how hard it was going to be to find another couple to play bridge, shanghai rummy, euchre and hearts with.( which I am sure is very challenging, indeed.) These and other, more embarrassing secrets were revealed and just when it looked as if Sir Jeffrey got away with it, he suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. The betting pool of London, Paris, Milan and Wichita, Kansas didn’t even attempt to figure out the odds on whether Sir Jeffrey went into hiding or if he had become peeing fawn water sculpture.
So where is Sir Jeffrey? Did the faun have an untimely death at the hands of a Gorgon, or is he still out there, playing that flute, ready to jump out and hump the leg of the nearest passerby-er? More importantly, what happened to Sir Jeffrey’s notes, which are rumored to have more tantalizing details about the reclusive Gorgon. Rumor has it that there is more than two Gorgons that exist today. Who are they and are they among us? Whatever happened to Medusa’s head and will there ever be justice for this victim who did nothing more than exist and was damned and murdered for it. I am committed to finding these answers, so let’s see what we can discover. This is Sebastian Brackenridge. Thank you and good day.