Exorcism

I used to work with a bloke called Bernie. Way back in the days when I still lived in London. He taught me many of my assembler programming skills.

We also used to go boozing a lot. At lunch time. After work. He liked his beer. So he should have. He grew up in Lewes. His mum still lived in town, not all that far from the brewery. I went down there for the weekend a couple of times. Once for November the 5th.

They make a big deal of Bonfire Night in Lewes. Something to do with some protestant martyrs. There's a big procession. When that's over, people dressed up as Roman Catholic cardinals are sat in thrones. And the crowd throw fireworks at them. It's dangerous, it's weird and quite disturbing. It shocked me. In Leeds they just used to set light to police cars. I'd honestly never realised there was an anti-catholic aspect to Bonfire Night. Maybe I'm just naive. Or perhaps, elsewhere in Britain, that side of it has been long forgotten.

Of course, while in town I tried to get around as many Harvey's pubs as possible. I can't remember and of the names. But I can clearly recall many excellent pints. And the pub on the same street as Bernie's mum's house having a very flexible interpretation of opening times.

I've had a few strange experiences in my life. But this was a particularly odd one. Once when I was staying there, Bernie's mum asked if we'd take part in an exorcism. The house was pretty old - 17th century, I think - and she thought it had a ghost. Or some strange spiritual presence. So she got in this sort of C of E monk to exorcise it.

It wasn't like in the movies. No green bile or any of that malarky. Just a few prayers and a bit of sprinkling holy water. But it was a fully fledged exorcism ceremony. And I did say a few words when required. I can truthfully say "I've taken part in an exorcism". Haven't you?