Starting my Religious Cult… Join Today!

I have always wanted to be the leader of a religious cult. Not because I have visions, or because God speaks to me — no. It’s just because I want to tell people what to do. So I went looking around over the weekend for some information on what to look out for when just starting out in cult leadership.

Naturally, I turned first to that indisputable planet of knowledge: Wikipedia. It says that David Koresh, cult leader of the Branch Davidians, used his powers to first announce that he was going to marry one of the cult members of his choosing in keeping with his strict views on monogamy, and then a few years later announced that everyone should be monogamous except him. He was allowed to have all the action he wanted.

Now that’s what I call cult leadership. In my mind, getting women to agree to no-strings-attached sex is the ultimate symbol that a cult leader has arrived. If you haven’t achieved it yet as a cult leader, then either your teachings are weak or you lack resolve.

But being the leader of such an organization is not without pitfalls. According to my research, the most important thing that a conscientious leader must avoid is looking silly. After all, there is a fine line between gathering the trappings of divinity around one’s self and wearing a bathrobe with a little tinsel stapled to it. One makes you look regal, and the other… does not.

In fact this applies to any public figure, but there are those who are so relevant that they flaunt this rule. Just off the top of my head I can think of three people who are free to wear whatever ridiculous outfit they want at any time with no fear of looking silly. They are Prince, the Pope, and Lady Gaga.

Hear no evil, See no evil, Wear no evil.

Even today, cults and political extremist groups find themselves looking silly all the time. Of course, racism and bigotry are no laughing matters, but it’s hard not to laugh along with Wyatt Cenac’s interviews from The Daily Show of people effusing on national television that it is their God-given American right to keep gay people who love each other from being married.

In fact there is one religious cult who has made a career out of hating gays. People know them. They’re kind of a big deal. They often participate in public demonstrations of hate, or hate-offs, and last week the target was Twitter’s offices in San Francisco. I am reluctant to say the name of their organization or link to them because they don’t deserve whatever meager traffic my blog might send their way, but anyone who Googles around a bit can find out who it was.

Now it seems to me that if you hate old people, you probably shouldn’t spend a lot of time in Florida. If you dislike Australian twenty-somethings you should never go to London, and if you hate gays you shouldn’t be hanging about in San Francisco.

Still, hatemongers have a lot of hate to… um… monger, and I guess that’s how these guys found themselves outside Twitter’s offices with hate signs, which I’m told are formally known as Placards of Displeasure. The only problem was that the cultists trying at all costs to not look silly were met there by a group of silly people trying to look like a cult.

Rookie mistake, cultists!

This image is absurd enough, but I want to know what the lady in the red wife beater has against burgers. Not to be rude, but she doesn’t look like she has any particular aversions to food of any kind.

It's the way that I move, the things that I do, oh oh oh!

Wait a minute, are burgers gay? Is someone trying to gay marry a burger? I don’t get it.

Moving on, you can bet your sweet hindsides that my cult will never ever be caught accidentally looking like a bunch of fools. Toward this end, I will continue to personally do foolish things so that I can always claim I meant to look like a retard should a serious endeavor fall short.

Now the only thing I need is a name. I want it to be something that conveys seriousness and warmth, so the word “hot” should be in there I think, but I also want potential followers to know that I will cradle them lovingly and carry them along, like a bag or a tote of some kind.

So, who wants to join my new cult, Hot Sack of Jim?