The Reverend Spadge Dooley is the finder of the Awesome Machine Accidental, which he started. He then founded the Church of the Awesome Machine Accidental which now forms the core equity of Dooley Religions inc of which the Reverend Spadge is Chief Executive Officer, he brooks no dissent.

A Dooley life

THE Reverend Spadge Dooley founded the Church of the Awesome Machine Accidental as a vehicle for his own expression and profit, it now forms the core equity in Spadge Dooley Religions Inc. The Reverend Spadge Dooley is undisputed Chief Executive Officer of the Church of the Awesome Machine Accidental and all its subsiduaries. The music of the Church is recorded and owned by The Reverend Spadge Dooley with the help of his disciples, accolytes and adherents: Cardinal Spazmo, Badger Boy and Sister Madge Dooley. The headquarters of the Church are in Newent, Gloucestershire and Flaxley Gloucestershire, there are branches of the Church in Tottenham and Caerdydd. The Cathedral of the Church is the summit of May Hill in Gloucestershire. As the Church of the Awesome Machine Accidental is yet to be adopted as the national religion of any country, the church has adopted its own country, Wales, incorporating Gloucestershire to the River Severn. Once there was no Church of the Awesome Machine Accidental and no The Reverend Spadge Dooley, there was simply a Machine and Spadge Dooley. As editor of The Daily Liar, one of our nation's finest, most-respected and predictably despicable newspapers Spadge was for many years happy to succeed in his chosen profession. However, the viccissitudes of the journalistic life took their toll upon Spadge, who become a truly magnificent alchoholic and polymorphous pervert. Granted special leave from the Daily Liar after a spectacular but unsuccesful attempt to interview the returning Angry Veangeful Jesus Spadge found himself screwed up, chucked out and washed up. He returned to his birthplace, Newent in Gloucestershire. Here he wandered and walked and wondered and worried in search of peace. While walking through woodlands close to May Hill (by the Garlic Dippy, near the Verve Clique Hole), he heard someone calling his name. Or so he thought. The noise was that of a feral child. The boy had somehow arrived in a badgers' sett and been raised there by friendly Brock, who is our brother. The child had taken on some of his new family's appearance - his face was daubed in the black and white stripe - and lost most of the few words his human parents had given him. He had nod cried Spadge, but was trying to call his badger parents with the help of some apparatus. A cursory search of the copse soon revealed the corpses of the boy's tribe, killed in all probability by the Taynton and Glasshouse Badger Hunds - a peculiarly unpleasant group of semi-nomadic blood sport enthusiasts ready to prey on any creature the law would allow. The boy needed help and Spadge gathered him to his pigeon chest, collected the apparatus, strewn where the Hund had left it, and returned to his temporary bivouac on the summit of May Hill. There, he realised what he had found. A cache of homemade synthesisers, clickers, bangers, whirrers, reverberators and other equipment left by Newent's most famous son, Robert "Joe" Meek. The rest is mystery.