The Way Things
DCSE Tie

CF Miley,
Opinions Editor

 

‘If organized religion is the opium of the masses,
then disorganized religion is the marijuana of the
lunatic fringe.” — Kerry Thornley, Discordian
Society Co-founder

“Scientology? That’ it, I hereby give up on organized religion.” — 1 said that

I’ve often found that when I remember to not take myself too seriously,
things have a way of working themselves out. This week, propelled by a
loss of faith in all our planet’s “organized religions,” yet longing to find a
worthy outlet for my burgeoning spiritual side, I was delivered. If organ-
ized religion causes me to want to retch violently and break out in tongue
hives, maybe I needed a “disorganized religion.” Hail Eris! ?ve found it in
Discordianism.

Discordians believe that the one God to end all Gods is actually a
Goddess, and that Goddess is Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Discord. At
first, I was a bit reluctant. Surely, the entire gambit that is life can’t really be
operating from chaos? Life isn’t merely stumbling blindly around like a
sailor at 4am in Tijuana, is it? Chaos couldn’t possibly be the cuisine that
reigns supreme, could it?

Then, I looked at the news on TV. I looked around me and listened to
the people talking about shopping and politics. I thought about the fact that
humans—the apparent top-dog species around these parts—are totally
unusual creatures that will spend the bulk of their time trying to acquire
paper tickets (money) that can be traded for goods and services to belay the
empty feelings that are often borne by the supposed fact that they just don’t
have enough stuff yet. I looked and I saw that everything around me

indeed appeared chaotic, but in a kinda
comical way. So, I laughed.

Yeah, and verily did the red velvet
curtain of spirituality suddenly rise from
before my eyes, and I saw myself—and

all people—akin to Shakespeare’s petty
players on the stage of life, or something
like that. And I was not only a player, but a
playa as well. And thus did I dig out my old
dog-eared copy of the “Principia Discordia,”
the pretty-good book of the Discordian religion.
The Principia is a strange little manual
that was apparently relayed to its author, Kerry
Thornley, during a drinking binge in a
California bowling alley sometime in the
undetermined past. I think it was 1958,
1962, or maybe 1981. It’s not the “when”

~
%

   
     
   
 
 

that’s important in Discordianism; it’s the
“what.”

In Discordianism, every man and woman
is a bona fide Pope, complete with the power
to ordain saints. You just have to stand up

and say, “I’m now a Pope,” and boo-yah,
" you're a Pope. I’ve even got myself a

business card to prove this fact. I figured,

 

if Catholicism can have their “holy wine, holy blood” ritual where the
cheapest red wine available suddenly becomes the blood of Christ (tran-
substantiation), then certainly I can be a Pope. I’m still deciding if ’m
going to get myself a really crazy drag queen-esque hat like John Paul the
Second to celebrate my personal pontification.

Another great thing about being a Discordian is that, being a disorgan-
ized religion, there isn’t a whole lot of Sunday church going, In
Discordianism, the lyric, ““?’m easy like Sunday morning,” takes on a whole
new meaning. There’s no church anywhere unless I (as Pope) decide there
is. How many Christian denominations—for all their talk of brotherly
love—are that compassionate? Last week, I held services over a Belgian

Waffle while ogling passersby from a patio seat near a beach. Hail Eris!
Next Sunday, I may just really get into the Discordian spirit and claim that
it’s actually Wednesday, but I’m still going for waffles.

I’m just beginning to get the hang of this Discordianism thing, but I
think it has a lot to do with consulting my own pineal gland, converting
infidels, annoying heretics, and answering extremely tricky Zen-like riddles,
such as “If Jesus was Jewish, then why did he have a Puerto Rican name?”
According to the pretty-good book’s introduction, “Eating hot dog buns is
prohibited, except on Friday—when its compulsory.” I think I may finally
have found a religion for me. Hail Eris! All hail Discordia.

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