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Joy, peace and harmony through Challenging Ritual


Do you seek guidance as you tiptoe through a minefield of mediocrity in search of musical and spiritual enlightenment?

 

Walk in the footsteps of Cult of Ffynche

 

Do you stumble through dark kingdoms of absurdity where kings, queens and an elected executive are such utter halfwits?

 

Shine a light with Cult of Ffynche

 

Are you constrained by corporate agenda designed to fetter individual expression?

 

Throw off the shackles with Cult of Ffynche

 

Cult of Ffynche traces its philosophical roots deep into prehistory, untangling the threads that bind nature to perception, revealing the truth within. We cling to our archaic learnings, believing as we do that a Sign and a True Meaning may arise at any time. A cloud formation….the yearning cry of the beaver…..a half remembered lyric…..

 

People get ready- a change is gonna come

 

Join our quest!

 

Testimonials

 

“I found enlightenment through Challenging Ritual”- Wulfran Netherworp

 

“Cult of Ffynche saved my life”- Charles Spatchcock

 

“I’ve banished the demons of bad behaviour, thanks to Cult of Ffynche”- Ernest Throbwhistle


“Embrace subjunctivism! Do you think you might?”- The Zimmerman Institute

"Hilariously bonkers"- Rosie Throbwhistle

The Legend

 

It’s 1659. Less than a decade after Civil War had rampaged through a green and unpleasant land. Accusations of witchcraft are levelled at a number of good folk living in and around the Essex village of Ffynchingfield- and by the pricking of their skins they’re condemned to a chilling end….to be buried alive while lashed to chairs.

 

Never again to sleep. Never to rest in peace.

 

Their deaths would spark a fire that burns still….

The Cult Of Ffynche

 

The passing of these tragic innocents is marked with a lament called simply ‘Witches’….that they would never be forgotten. No one knows the author of the bitter lyric, but it’s message is a clear rejection of religious dogma. Fearing allegations of sedition, minstrels and troubadours of the parish meet in secret to give voice to the mellifluous declamation and to proclaim the choosing of another way. A better way. Nature’s way. The way of The Cult.

 

Their way is to rejoice in life and all its wonders. Their way is to laugh, to sing, to drink, to think and to put right the evils of the world. And -- perhaps to atone for their sins, perhaps in deference to the suffering of their fellow man -- their way is through challenging ritual.

 

The world has changed and so the way of The Cult has changed. Songs have been sung and re-sung….changing and regenerating through the centuries. Ritual too has changed like a Chinese whisper, morphing and adapting to circumstance as it passes from generation to generation.

 

Little remains of the world which spawned The Cult Of Ffynche, but The Cult endures- so that the philosophy continues to the present day. Embodied in the form of troubadours still, the songs are sung, the ale is drunk, the thoughts are thunk….

 

…..and the rituals are applauded.

Words

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Music

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©2020 by Cult of Ffynche.

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