Arletteism
◊ I have a new religion.
It is based on the values and principles espoused by me, Arlette. It came about after instant messaging with Allie about how much I rule, which is one of my favorite topics of discussion.
No, this religion isn't a pathetic attempt to recycle the fan club I started for myself when I was 15. This is something far more deep and meaningful, with much better graphic design.
The American Heritage Dictionary defines religion as "belief in and reverence for a supernatural power or powers regarded as creator and governor of the universe." Since I did indeed create the universe and everything in it except for the bad and annoying bits (for those, I blame society), it's only natural that a religion would grow up around me, even if it takes the theological version of Miracle Gro and flourescent lighting to get it properly started.
So, after some research that mostly involved typing the word "religion" into Google, I deduced that every religion needs a holy text, some rituals and some kind of instructions for living.
Since I am an expert at the fine art of making shit up, it wasn't much of a stretch to document some of the ways that my religion is practiced.
Holy texts are easy: you're reading mine right now.
See, I think blogs are the way of the future. They're fast, simple and don't require an editor to tweak text and make suggestions.
Granted, the lack of editing is why 99 percent of blogs totally blow dead dog dick, but it also allows a truly revolutionary level of freedom, even if it's just the freedom to make up statistics.
I see no reason why my blog shouldn't be a holy text. Like the Bible, it's got killing children and drinking and I am pretty sure I can exceed the Bible's serious weirdness levels. It should do just fine as dogma as long as the people who like tearing the Bible a new asshole don't get on my literature.
As an added benefit, this blog is so incredibly holy that you are instantly converted to my religion just by reading it. Welcome to the fold, my child. Have a cigarette. Don't worry, nobody's dunking you underwater or cutting bits of you off unless you specifically request it.
Devising rituals for this cutting-edge religion wasn't as easy. The first batch I came up with was heavily influenced by my youthful exposure to the Catholic church: incense, hymns, dim lighting and lots of standing up and sitting down and then standing back up again, with breakfast at the doughnut shop afterward.
After a couple hours of composing sexually explicit Gregorian chants, my thoughts drifted back to how much I hated going to church and counting off prayers on my rosary beads and how never once had I done penance for the venial sins I committed as a child. I realized that creating liturgies and sin systems would be a total waste of time. People just don't have time for reciting prayers and worshiping at home and attending long, involved ceremonies that mean getting up early on weekends.
Instead I figured I'd co-opt my favorite hobbies and turn them into holy rites. From now on, every time you have sex, drink an alcoholic beverage, go to an all-night diner, read a book, laugh too loud, tell a tasteless joke, masturbate, or arrange toys or plush animals so it looks like they're having sex, you do it in my name.
Last down: instructions for living, my own personal ten commandments.
Now, I'm not a big fan of absolutism. I don't like telling people what they can or can't do. Free speech and situational ethics rock my little world, so there'd have to be a lot of wiggle room in my commandments.
On top of that, nobody can remember ten of something. We can barely remember phone numbers, and those are just seven little digits. My commandments would have to jam as much inspiration and guidance into as little space as possible.
So, after much deliberation, I narrowed it down to the following:
- Arlette's Four Commandments
Have fun.
Do drugs.
Swear more.
People suck.
There ya go: my religion in all its glory.
Peace be with you, and Arlette thinks you suck.