Enquiring Minds want to KNOW, dammit

What is a Balbulican? Before I answer that, I have to tell you I'm not real sure. Balbulican, in negotiations, agreed to give me the exclusive on what exactly a Balbulican is. But I think, perhaps, he is a politician, as he gave me TWO answers, for us to figure out.

Here, then, is my very first guest post.

The True and Secret Origin of Balbulican

In partial fulfilment of my requirement for acquisition of title to the “Most Hysterical Single Mother” Anal Award, it has been required of me that I present in this forum the true origin of my nom-de-plume, “Balbulican”.

However, no-one said I was obliged to present ONLY the true origin. So here, for your enjoyment, are two options. And at least one of them, I assure you, is true: believe the one you enjoy the most.

Version One:

“Balbulican” was first named in a very strange little book called “Physiologius Daemonica”. Its origins remain obscure to this day. Most scholars seem to believe that it first originated in or near Cairo in the 2nd century, and was based on an original Greek text. What IS clear is that the Physiologius combines other earlier sources such as Aristotle's “Historia Infernalis”, and the writings of Pliny and Solinus.

Its popularity can be deduced from the number of languages it was translated into: fragments in Greek, Latin, Syrian, Armenian, Arabic, Ethiopian, Old High German, Anglo-Saxon, Icelandic and Provencal have all been identified. Essentially, wherever you found Christians, you found a copy of the “Physiologius”.

The book purported to actually list all the demons in hell, from Great Satan down to the minor “Impes of Ye Pitte”. The standard form of the Physiologius contained forty-seven chapters, which describe in lurid and fascinating detail the physiology, dietary preferences, and duties of the demons. It’s an absolutely fascinating glimpse into the hearts and minds of the period, since all the demons are, of course, allegories of one kind or another for recognizable character types…think of a demonic “Pilgrim’s Progress”.

At the end of the 5th century, Pope Gelas declared the Physiologius to be interdicted, as many early Christians missed its satirical intent and believed it to be an actual “field guide” to hell. It was subsequently rewritten to make its allegorical character more explicit, and was sanctioned in the sixth century as a tool for teaching the ways of the Church by Gregory the Great (who quoted from it frequently in his teachings).

I first read excerpts from the Physiologius while researching for an article on Bosch and Dante, and I was immediately taken by an illustration of one of the lesser demons, who struck me as really a rather pleasant sort - a devil of the fourth order named “Balbulican” (in English…the original names him either “Balbulixus” or “Balbulictatus”). He was described as “rownde of figure” and “of lewde mien”: but best of all, he tortured sinners by playing horrid music to them on a set of demonic pipes. Since at the time I was attempting to learn the Uillean pipes myself, and often suspected them of being possessed by devils, I identified with old Balb immediately.

Version Two:

There aren’t many comedy bands around these days (at least, not bands that are INTENTIONALLY funny), but it used to be an honourable niche in popular music, from Spike Jones to Louis Prima to PDQ Bach. One of the best comedy bands ever was the Bonzo Doo Dah Dog Band, which had a short but glorious heyday from 1967 to 1970. They only ever had one hit…”I’m the Urban Spaceman”, produced by Paul McCartney under the name “Apollo C. Vermouth”, and written by Neil Innes (who subsequently played the John Lennon-ish guy in The Rutles, as well as Sir Robin’s Lead Minstrel in “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”.) If you ever saw the dreadful Beatles film “Magical Mystery Tour”, the Bonzos are the lounge band in the background of the Grand Staircase Scene. Ahem. I digress.

Obscure. But very, very funny.

The first track on their first album was a “tune” called “The Intro and the Outro”. It began with a fast, shuffle-beat cymbal, and an unctuous-voiced announcer intoning: “Hey, nice to have you with us. Glad you could stick around. Like to introduce…”Legs” Larry Smith on drum…” Enter the drums. Then bass. Then guitar. Then trumpet. Then sax. Then vibes. Then electric violin. Then euphonium. Then Quasimodo on bells. Then Vern Dudley Bohay-Noel on spoons. Then Sir Kenneth Clark on duck call. Then…and on and on, for about five minutes, dozens of instruments vamping on this one inane, lame mock-jazz riff, all introduced by this oily host, building to a ridiculous, cacophonous climax.

About halfway through the cut, the announcer introduces “Balbulican”. Or at least, that’s what I heard through the noise. I had no idea who “Balbulican” was, but I thought the name sounded cool. And twenty-five years later, when I needed a name for posting, “Balbulican” popped back into my head.

Not long after I started posting, a friend and I were reminiscing about the Bonzos, and I mentioned that I had appropriated the “Balbulican” name. He didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, so we dug out the album and listened. And this time, I heard what the Bonzos actually sang…it was “Val Doonican”, a BBC TV host, sort of a Dick Clark clone.

Huh. “Val Doonican”. What kind of stupid name is THAT, anyway? Obviously they MEANT to sing “Balbulican”.

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So - which one is it, do you think?