Cults just aren’t what they used to be. These days a cult is little more than a filthy entourage of robe wearing, head shaved hippies too busy performing weird rituals to get around to combing the dandruff out of their dreadlocks. They worship their space ship God, shriek incoherent, senseless chants, and mildly pester anyone unfortunate enough to be within ear shot. They claim to be spreading truth, peace and love, but instead spread a rather nauseating odur. Thankfully, it’s not long before these deranged lunatics embark upon a mass suicide. But unfortunately, it’s long enough for them to have annoyed and infuriated us all, and to have given cults a bad name. If we have to have cults roaming this fine Earth of ours, why, oh why, can’t they be more like the delightful Octopus Cult, featured in the Bond film Octopussy?
In the film, jewel smuggler /circus ring master /cult leader Octopussy explains the story behind her cult to Bond. “When Father’s gold ran out the people in Hong Kong who had disposed of it for him offered me a commission to smuggle a consignment of diamonds. I discovered I had a talent for it” she says. She went into business for herself, but needed an organisation so she “revived the old octopus cult”, recruiting lucious, female followers, explaining that “there are many of them all over South East Asia, looking for a guru, spiritual discipline, who knows what. I train them; give them a purpose, a sisterhood, and a way of life.”
Gadget master Q has a more brief, but nonetheless accurate description of the cult, “An island populated excessively by women” he calls, knowing that means that he and Vijay “won’t see him (007) until dawn.” To be fair to Bond, I and I’m sure many of the male readers here wouldn’t be seen until dawn either. Infact, I’m sure very little persuasion would be needed to get us to stay permanently. I’d even be willing to pull my weight and perform a job on the island. One of the following perhaps…
Security Guard – Normally a security guards job consists of little more than chopping into packets of chips and occasionally glancing at the video monitors as you lean back in your comfy chair. Sometimes you get the odd hooligan or vandal, but it’s pretty rare when you’re on an isolated island. Sounds like a nice, lazy job doesn’t it? But one should be warned of the occasional hazards a security guard would experience on the job here, like British Secret Agents, or maniacs wielding yo-yo blades.
Pool Cleaner – Contray to popular belief, the life of a pool cleaner isn’t all combing your moustache and making pornographic films. Occasionally, they have to clean the odd pool. The good news is that Octopussy’s island only has the one pool, so it’s as good a place as any to be a pool cleaner. The bad news is that it’s a pretty big pool. But at the end of the day when the pool is all nice and clean the ladies of the cult come out for their nightly swim, you know that it was all worth it.
Island Chef – Hey, they can’t very well just order out for pizza can they. “12 Large Hawaiian Pizzas please, and oh, can you please deliver those pizzas to the mysterious Octopussy Cult Island?”, I just can’t picture the scene, plus I’m not even sure that the island has a phone. So someone has to cook for the cult members, and there are quite a few to cook for. Thankfully, the island isn’t like Blofeld’s Piz Gloria in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service where a unique dish had to be prepared for each and every lady. here a few large pots of spaghetti should do the trick.
Tattoo Inspector – Here’s a job for all you sleazy perverts out there. All the ladies in the Octopus Cult require one of those lovely little Octopussy tattoos, like the one we see of Magda’s, to prove their devotion to the group. It would be the tattoo inspectors job to check and make sure that each and every cult members has her tattoo. Sounds like a great job to me, but it gets better. The inspector would also have to conduct a full body search on each woman to ensure that they aren’t bearing any tattoo’s from rival cults. Hey, it’s a job that has to be done.
If they accepted my application and offered me one of the following jobs within the cult group, I’d be a very happy chappy indeed. And if they didn’t hire me, I’d claim that their “women only” rules and sexual discriminated and slap on them the biggest law suit you’ve ever seen, and retire to the West Indies a very rich man. It’s a win / win situation, either way I’d be more content than a pig in a barrel of slush. Sigh, if only Cults were a little more like Octopussys band of beauties, the world would surely be a much better place.
Until next time,