A Tribute to the Angel of Headaches

Angels of misfortune are many and varied. For every conceivable misfortune, there is an angel overlooking its execution. Each of these angels is constantly perfecting their art, and also fighting a battle against the vagaries of our lifestyle, which seems destined to try thwarting them. That is our real purpose in life – finding ways to thwart the various angels of misfortune.

The Angel of Death is the most well known angel of misfortune, and by far and away the most successful. Azrael discovered very early how to make himself enormously unpopular amongst the living, and even though our technologies may try to put off his inevitable visit, none can keep him away permanently.

We shall not dwell on the newcomers to this pantheon. The Angel of Missing a Taxi merits only a scornful mention, as does the Angel of Practical Jokes. The less said about the Angel of Decorating, the better. A successful but unpopular (even amongst her compatriots) angel is the Angel of Junk Mail, whose reputation is beginning to look formidable.

The Angel of Headaches is perhaps the second most effective angel in history, although scholars are continually debating what this angel is actually attempting to prove. Some suggest that, just after being spawned, she walked into a door (being somewhat clumsy), and the pain that immediately hit her was accompanied almost immediately by a ‘Divine Revelation’ of sorts, where she seriously thought that she could challenge the Angel of Death. Others scoff at this theory, claiming that, as any fool knows, she took to her profession purely by accident after a night in the laboratory where she discovered the secrets of a certain kind of fermentation. A new school of thought has it that she has the controlling interest in almost every drug company worthy of the name, and it is the proceeds of headache pills that are the chief reason for her very sumptuous celestial mansion, a mansion so salubrious that even Azrael himself lives in a tin shed by comparison.

The cause of your average headache has been described by your average scientist as a lack of oxygen in the brain. What they don’t always mention is that the reason for this is that the aforementioned angel of headaches is in fact a very busy angel indeed, zipping about hither and thither inflicting her own curious brand of pain on people. A statistic that I once read claimed that every second, somebody in the world dies. What this statistic neglected to mention is that every second, at least 465,322 people are suffering from a headache. This makes the Angel of Death seem like a workshy gobshite. Sure, he does a thorough job, and he clearly takes pride in his profession and work, but it is a little known fact that he has at least seven assistants, and is growing increasingly reliant on disasters to keep his figures looking good.

The Angel of Headaches, however, works alone. She is responsible for alcohol, nicotine, carbon monoxide poisoning, low doorways and the burgeoning rate of human growth. Not for her the individual attention paid to each of her victims. She is a firm believer in mass production. She has never seen a victim face to face (indeed, it is rumoured that many of today’s multi-national companies have been directly inspired by her work method).

You know car alarms? That was she.
Those horribly loud machines in engineering premises? You don’t need me to tell you.
Sunbathing? She merely suggested it.
Heart FM? Her greatest moment.

However, does she get eulogised in the way that the Angel of Death does? She does not. Slayer didn’t write a song about her. The Lord’s Prayer doesn’t even hint at her existence. The bible is curiously silent about her prowess, except for a rogue edition printed in 1543, although this was later found to have been caused by a rogue typesetter having a laugh at his employers expense.
And her victims are even worse. Not for them the humble “I’ve been touched by the Angel of Headaches, yea verily, I am pleased to have been singled out by her.” It’s more like “I’ve got a fucking headache, give me the fucking tablets before I fucking kill you!”(Or maybe that's just me). Do Death’s victims react in this way? Nope. They remain curiously silent, as if in homage to the great being that laid them low.

Hence this page. Let us celebrate the Angel of Headaches, let us worship her very existence, and then she might go soft and fuck off altogether, which would be very nice, thank you. Whenever you get a headache, offer a prayer of thanks, and take time out to contemplate the glory that is the Angel of Headaches. If treated with respect, she may decide to let each victim off. After all, The Angel of Death never visits his victims again. Let us see if we can persuade the Angel of Headaches to adopt a similar policy.


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