Doxomultiplexageddon

Oh boy. That's over then.

The soundproof partitions turned out not to be as soundproof as we thought. So the solemn silent Requiem meditation people were overwhelmed by the sounds of "I will dance (undignified)" coming through the wall. So they responded by singing Verdi's Dies Irae really loudly. So that upset the "Waiting on Whale-Music" people. Who decided to morph into the "Bashing corrugated iron with a mallet" collective. And that distressed the "Third Church of John Cage" - who in principle were happy to hear random environmental noises as they believe God speaks through them, but were most distressed to hear someone bashing corrugated iron. And yet strangely grateful that it drowned out "I will dance (undignified)".

So the "Third Church of John Cage" decided to experiment with the theremin and feedback. Leaving everyone deafened in a slightly uncanny kind of way. The people with the mallet and corrugated iron got a sledgehammer, then found out they were drowned out by the unexpected introduction of a 200W bass amp plugged into "Sponge Bob Square Pants". So they used the sledgehammer to break down the partition, only to be blown back into the far wall by a concentrated wave of sound. The Requiem Meditation people switched to Ride of the Valkyries, and started throwing the bags of flour they had unaccountably brought with them. At which the people taking part in the traditional service of Pouring Out of Beakers, who had managed to stay out of the whole business, decided enough was enough and started throwing water from the Holy Spring around.

The people singing "I will dance" at this point discovered that their dancing wasn't as practical as they thought, due to them now trying to dance ankle-deep in flour-and-water glue. On the bright side, it's true to say they were now genuinely undignified. Stuck to the spot, they were defenceless as the remaining partitions were demolished by a combination of people with high-intensity sound-generating devices and sledgehammers. Bits of partition bounced off their heads, followed by a selection of Whale music CDs and assorted stray divas. And a load of doves that someone had planned to release at a suitably profound point in something or another. Then Hnaef and I had no choice but to intervene, turning the high-pressure fire hose on the lot of them to calm them down and clean the Moot House of flour-and-water paste.

The Doxomultiplex has been a bit of a disaster, to be honest. We're going to have to go back to collective worship. It may require compromise, charity and flexibility. But at least no-one's likely to get a dove stuck to them with glue.