Extravaganza was a series of events I ran in Oxford, Oxfordshire between 2023 and 2025, based partly on a similar event in a dream of mine.
The first Extravaganza. Following a brief Opening Ceremony, we kicked off by Showing our Talent. We went to Tesco's every single day. It was Sports Day. We built a Fort. We Interviewed. We visited my favourite traffic lights. Then it was very late.
The original version of the poster looked slightly different.
This was a retroactive advert for Everybody Secret presents Extravaganza 2012.
We Speedran. We visited the High Street Science Experiment. We discovered the English department. We went to Tesco's every single day. It was Time to Act. There was a Murder Mystery. Zombie Poison. We went on a successful Monster Hunt via Mansfield College.
The Team assembles in Somerville JCR. Off they go: Onward & Upward. For many months, they journey. Surrounded by wondrous sights are they. In time, they draw near to home again. Then snacks. Then Sports Day. Then teatime. Their well-deserved rest over, The Team, once more, readies for adventure. Carefully, they make their way through a dark and dangerous landscape, charting it that all may know the artefact of the mighty natural world. Then bedtime.
We went to Tesco's every single day. We visited South Hinksey and Hinksey Park. We went to Tesco's every single day. We saw the vicinity of the Seacourt Tower. We went to Tesco's every single day.
Peace shall not prevail in Purley, came the stark warning today. From his hospital bed, Drip Fed Fred vowed he was here to stay. “I’ll tell you something for nothing,” he claimed, “never in all my days, have I felt so intimidated by the cheap tactics on display.” What’s that she’s playing? Annie, get your gun. What’s that she’s taking? The song has to be sung. She’s gone electric. Annie, wipe them out. That’s... unexpected. Strum that thing and shout. Don’t pull that trigger. Annie, get your gun. Don’t shoot that singer! You’re shooting number one.
“Son, I am able,” she said, “though you scare me.” “Watch,” said I. “Beloved,” I said, “watch me scare you though.” Said she, “able am I, son.” Johnny looked at my old collection of punk rock posters. Anonymous scenes of disaffection, chaos, and torture. Acid rain. Drug addictions. International terrorism. Freeway killers. Now, more than ever, it is important to remember the true meaning of Christmas. Donʼt miss Charles Dickensʼs immortal classic Scrooge.
Your life might just depend on it.
It was quiz in Somerville JCR, and then we walked through Port Meadow to Wolvercote, and back along Woodstock Road.