Almost exactly one year after Karmageddon, I once again rallied the troops . . . this time for Karmageddon 2!
I asked any interested joinees to meet me at the bottom of London’s Oxford Street and bring with them two gift-wrapped presents to hand out to strangers when I blew a whistle.
I booked a modest function room above a pub, suitable for around 50 people.
You can imagine my surprise, then, when over 300 joinees turned up, presents in hand.
It was utterly, utterly overwhelming.
Each brought their two presents and by the end of the day, we’d made many hundreds of complete strangers very happy, we’d packed out two London pubs, and we’d raised enough money to buy four cows for a village in India that really needed them.
It was quite a day.
Maybe you’ll join us, next time?
* * *
Dr Dennis M. Hope continues to gather his own collective together with the aim of travelling to the moon and setting up a human colony based on equality and fair play. If you would like to join him, visit www.lunarembassy.com. It is thought that such an initiative will eliminate all human indecency and create a sociological event that will be talked of for millennia.
Copycat.
In January 2003, I received, completely out-of-the-blue, a letter from 10 Downing Street. A lady called Melissa Chowdhury was writing on behalf of Prime Minister Tony Blair.
‘Mr Blair has asked me,’ it said simply, ‘to send his good wishes to all those involved with “Join Me”.’
I have absolutely no idea how Tony Blair heard about Join Me, or what prompted him to write. But I thought it was lovely.
More shockingly, a few days after that, I received another letter in the post . . . this one from none other than Prince Charles!
Charles had dictated a letter saying that he applauds the world of Join Me, and wanted to extend his warmest wishes to all joinees. He said: ‘The world is a better place thanks to the work of Joinees.’
The only possible explanation for this is that at some fancy do or other, Tony Blair took Prince Charles to one side and told him all about Join Me.
Nice one, Tony!
* * *
In January of 2004, I found myself, by chance, in Melbourne, Australia.
I therefore made it my business to try and launch the Australian Karma Army (aka AKA).
I appeared on a national breakfast show and announced that I would be holding a small rally in central Melbourne the following Saturday.
I arrived at the designated meeting place with a little sign which read JOIN ME OZ.
And I was greeted by the incredible sight of a vast group of smiling people, each one waving a passport photo . . .
250 photos later, the AKA was born . . .
* * *
The Vis à Vis boys – Christopher and Wayne – are currently composing a rock musical based on the Join Me story.
A concept album is also underway, with tracks including ‘The Ballad of Danny & Hanne’, ‘Song of the Happy Old Man’, and ‘Shit! I Forgot My Dog Collar!’.
* * *
Sales of butter in Poland are up eleven per cent.
I have been invited to all sorts of interesting places to give speeches on The Karma Army and how all this began. In November of 2003 I was a rambling and ineffective speaker at the Oxford Union, and a few months later, I began my assault on the United States.
It has always been my intention to do away with the grumpy American policy of Zero Tolerance and replace it with one of my own: Maximum Tolerance.
In order to kickstart the American Karma Army, I placed a mysterious advert in the New York Times, saying: ‘Wanted: Americans’. I then travelled to New York to meet the first person who replied. He was nice.
In March of 2004, I travelled throughout the States, visiting a different city every day. Starting in New York, I spread the word for three weeks throughout Boston, LA, Austin, San Francisco, Seattle, Portland and more . . . you can see how I got on at www.joinmeusa.com. The US campaign was bolstered by the use of t-shirts.
I used effective and powerful slogans such as:
‘Murder. Let’s Nip It In The Bud!’
And my personal favourite: ‘Don’t Mug Me! Hug Me!’
In April 2004, I was asked to launch the International Philanthropy Workshop, in partnership with the Rockefeller Foundation in New York and the Bertelsmann Foundation in Germany.
I went for a mysterious meeting with a lady with a posh name in a shady café in Soho. I was told that if I accepted the mission, I would not know the venue until days before the event, and even then I would not be told who I would be speaking in front of – only that it would be eight highly important billionaires whose identities must even now remain hidden.
Once again, I was cacking myself. I even went to Top Man to look at ties. But luckily, when I turned up to the venue it was just someone’s front room, and as it turns out, billionaires are very nice people indeed – even if they do earn nearly twice as much as the rest of us.
Anyway, I was given £100 for my efforts, and handed £10 to each billionaire, telling them to go out and buy an old lady a cactus, or an old man a few pints. Hopefully they’ll have got confused and given a needy pensioner a billion pounds, whilst keeping the cactus for themselves, thus making everyone a winner.
* * *
Sightings of the official Join Me criminal continue to pour in.
Since this book first came out, I’ve been inundated by reports of a lovable, silver-haired rogue by the name of Raymond Price, doing his cheeky business up and down the country.
Literally hundreds of new people seem to have been conned by Raymond, and I now have a file on him better than any police report, ever.
The last confirmed sighting was by a joinee called Tom who’d just read this book and was walking through London’s Soho, minding his own business.
‘Excuse me,’ said an old man, suddenly there. ‘I wonder if you could help me?’
Joinee Tom was initially caught off guard and was about to help the old man – who was from Teignmouth in Devon and was suffering from motor problems – until the fella in question got his driver’s licence out.
As soon as Tom read the name ‘Raymond Price’, everything clicked into place and he started laughing. Very loudly.
Raymond didn’t know why.
And when Tom explained he’d just read a book in which Raymond featured rather heavily, and that there was a website, and a fund, and that thousands of people all over the world wanted to help him, Raymond looked a little confused.
‘Um . . . look . . .,’ he finally said. ‘Are you going to give me some money or what?’
Tom politely declined Raymond’s generous offer, but, incredibly, managed to get a photo taken with him.
Raymond is clearly the world’s least shy conman.
Joinee Singh has moved jobs to edit a rival Asian newspaper.
He is therefore no longer the Voice of British Asians.
He is now, instead, the Voice of Asian Britain.
* * *
Many joinees have been proving their dedication to the Karma Army in incredible style . . .
Joinee Tony Hodges recently had the words ‘JOIN ME’ tattoed onto his arm.
A lad by the name of James Frost recently changed his name by deed poll to ‘Joinee James Frost’.
A Joinee Smith made it his business to get to as many ‘Join Meets’ in one weekend as he could. And he did. He flew from London to Edinburgh and attended a Join Meet on the Friday, then flew back to London that night in order to attend one in Oxford. The next morning he got up and caught a plane to Brussels, where he ate elaborate cheeses and drank fine wines with the Belgian Collective for all of Saturday night. The next morning he was on another plane, before catching a train to Southampton for another Join Meet. And on the Monday? He was in London, handing me the video evidence of his travels . . .
One of the strangest things about his journey is that on a flight from
Brussels to London he was wearing a small Join Me badge – a fact noticed by the air steward, also called Smith, who took him to one side and said, ‘I’m a joinee too!’
For the rest of the flight, the other Joinee Smith abused the intercom system by starting every announcement with: ‘Good morning, ladies, joinees and gentlemen . . .’
* * *
Joinee Whitby has launched his own quest – to track down and meet Raymond Price.
He’s had a couple of close encounters so far, and even managed to buy a painting Ray crafted in the ’70s . . . but as yet, the ol’ fella remains as elusive as ever . . .
But hey. It keeps him off the streets.
Whitby, I mean – not Raymond.
* * *
Celebrity joinees have started to trickle in . . . amongst those who’ve handed over their passport photos are Richard & Judy, Emma Freud & Richard Curtis, an Australian Big Brother finalist, and a major British rock icon who has asked me to preserve his anonymity but provided me with photographic proof that he is taking the Good Fridays Agreement seriously . . .
* * *
In December 2003, news of Join Me spread to Croatia.
A TV crew was in town, and requested an interview with me, Jonesy and Cobbett. At seven o’clock we were in the designated pub, but the Croatians were nowhere to be seen. So we had a pint. Half an hour later, they still hadn’t shown up. So we had another pint.
An hour and a half later I received a text message: HELLO DANNY. WE BE THERE SOON. WE HAD ACCIDENT. SOON THERE.
An hour later they still hadn’t shown.
And then, just before closing time and last orders at the pub, another text message arrived: HELLO DANNY. SORRY, WE MUST CANCEL. TO SAY TRUTH, WE ARE IN A PUB AND VERY PISSED!
Their honesty made us laugh a lot.
Despite the Croatians, small collectives of joinees have started to spring up all over the world, from Provence to Puerto Rico . . . and that makes me very happy indeed.
But then, that’s the Joy of Sects, I suppose.
* * *
The Madras Valley curryhouse in Camden has gained a . . . well . . . cult following.
Joinees from all over the world have written to me to say they’ve undertaken a kind of curry-based pilgrimage to taste the takeaway’s now-celebrated Chicken Dansak.
A journalist heard about this, and turned up at the Madras Valley in order to ask whether there had been an upsurge in the amount of Dansak they’d been selling. The head chef, Suyeber Rahman, declared that yes, they’d been selling a hell of a lot of Dansak lately, but no one had been able to figure out why. When the journalists explained all, Suyeber did the decent thing, and immediately became Joinee Rahman.
Today, the Madras Valley proudly displays the cover of this book on its wall, and gives out free bags of Bombay Mix to its customers, in an act of kindness all of its own.
The labels on the bags, however, do contain one minor spelling error. They make reference to someone by the name of ‘Danny Vallae’.
Oh well.
I never realised it, but I’d inadvertently made up the word ‘joinee’.
You will be pleased to hear that a campaign is currently underway to have joinee included in the Oxford English Dictionary.
Apparently, all you need to do is prove it’s used in something like a book.
Job done!
* * *
The non-religious nature of Join Me continues to puzzle the more religious people of the world . . . Vicars have started to use this story in their sermons, claiming it’s a bit like Christianity. A Jewish newspaper ran an article saying Join Me was a bit like Judaism. A Buddhist group wrote to me to tell me that it’s all rather reminiscent of Buddhism. Even a website devoted to the world of The Masons reckon Join Me is a bit like what they do, minus the funny handshakes.
I think all that’s great.
But it’s when the Satanists start getting involved that I’ll be worried.
* * *
Someone from film legend Jerry Bruckheimer’s office requested a meeting, with a view to creating some kind of Hollywood blockbuster out of the Join Me adventure.
I am slightly annoyed, therefore, that I didn’t embroil myself in more explosions along the way, and am regretful that I never thought to employ a streetwise, comical black sidekick, who could have accompanied me on my travels, and made smart comments whenever I looked a bit grumpy.
However, a Join Me film is currently being developed by a fantastic British company and, with any luck, it won’t star me.
There will be one explosion.
* * *
As well as Good Fridays, I recently put a new scheme on trial: Happy Mondays.
As with Good Fridays, I wish I could claim that there was some important or spiritual meaning to this. But there isn’t. I just thought of it on a Monday.
* * *
At time of writing, there are currently rumours of the first inter-joinee baby. I am hoping that if these rumours are true, the proud parents will name the child ‘Joinee’.
It would cut down on paperwork, is all.
* * *
Internet giant Yahoo! recently named the Join Me website as the most weird and wonderful site on the web.
Although I have seen several that were much, much weirder. In the interests of research, I mean.
* * *
I have been back to my great-uncle Gallus’s grave, in Switzerland, to update him on all the gossip and goings-on from Join Me HQ. I’ve told him that I’d now like to see if I can get 20,000 joinees. Why? Because that would mean over 1 million good deeds, each and every year, and all thanks to Join Me and Gallus.
I don’t know whether he can hear me, but I like to think he can.
* * *
And, since you’re probably wondering, no . . . Hanne and me never did get back together.
We do, however, remain the very best of friends.
* * *
Oh, and don’t forget . . . Raymond Price is still at large.
If you meet the old devil, say hello from me.
Danny Wallace
Mumbai, April 2004
AND FINALLY . . .
The Karma Army lives on. If you would like to join Danny, and sign The Good Fridays Agreement in order to undertake random acts of kindness each and every Friday, send one passport-sized photo to:
Join Me
PO Box 33561
London, E3 2YW
UK
Or go to the Join Me website, at www.joinme.info, where you can also buy the Join Me concept album and relive this book through song.
Danny would like to thank
Jake Lingwood for his enthusiasm, Hanne Knudsen for her patience, Jonathan Davies, Simon Trewin & Sarah Ballard (and all my new pals at PFD), Dave Gorman, Banks & Wag, Ross Noble, Jon Primrose, Ian Collins, Bob Glanville, Ian Fletcher, Elaine Wigley, John Pidgeon, Dennis M. Hope and all the staff at the Lunar Embassy and Galactic Government, Myfanwy Moore, Ian Critchley, Carl Cooper, Tony Hawks, Miles Mendoza, Geoff Jein, The Fun Nun, Greta McMahon, Ant & Dec, The Ebury Reps (best in the business), Wayne Marshall-Page (best in the business), Espen Tårnesvik (in the business), Christopher Banks, Sarah Hogan, Stine Smemo, Diana Riley, Little Hannah Telfer, Karl Pilkington (for existing), Claire Kingston, the other Dave Gorman, the Newcastle boys, Janush Whitmy-Smith, Erik Schoein, Geert Stadeus, Sam de Graeve, Matt Whitby, Gareth and Jane Saunders, and Raymond Price.
Special thanks to my mum and dad.
Oh, and to all my wonderful joinees around the world – my first 1000 joinees especially. You’re all great.
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Epub ISBN: 9781407062235
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First published in 2003 by Ebury Press, an imprint of Ebury Publishing
A Random House Group Company
This edition published 2004
Text © Danny Wallace 2003
Photographs © Danny Wallace, Bob Glanville and Sarah Hogan
Danny Wallace has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780091895822
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