![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
Richard Lloyd Smith III
"Our cause is a secret within a secret, a
secret that only another secret can explain; it
is a secret about a secret that is veiled by a
secret."
- Ja 'far as-Sadiq, 6th Imam, quoted in Rev.
Karl Musser, Episkopos of the Cartographer's
Conspiracy Cabal's signature file
(alt.discordia: 15 Sep. 1996)
"We all chip in, see? We get these cameras of our own,"
Hal Phillips types on alt.discordia, an internet newsgroup
(17 Sep. 1996). "We spy on police headquarters all the time.
We just take turns, rotating shifts, time. Nothing illegal,
see." Hal is hoping to revive a pastime of the 'Diggers,' an
anarchist group active in the 1960's. "We just take turns,
rotating shifts, sitting outside various police-related
buildings and filming through the window, telling them it's
just in case we ever need to know what was happening in
there." Hal is a member of Discordianism, a free-wheeling
religious group bent on exploiting and manipulating as much
chaos and disorder as it can muster (Adler: 1985, 332).
"Then we trade shifts," he continues. "And take the tapes
home with us. If we organize it, we can actually pull it
off. The best weapon," Hal finishes, "is that which is used
against you."
On another newsgroup, alt.slack, Reverend Unibomber
posts (9 Sep. 1996), "Well...aside from the fact that I
couldn't understand half of what was happening due to the
fact that it all went by so QUICKLY, I can honestly say that
last night's devival on another.net was a success." The
Reverend (an online pseudonym) is speaking of the weekly
on-line 'meetings' of the Church of the SubGenius, an
unpredictable, in-your-face religious group that promises to
trounce all "false prophets and faiths" (Stang, 1996) that stand in the way of their
teachings. He concludes, "If I remember correctly, (which I
probably don't, but oh, well...) about 30 or 40 people
showed up during the course of the evening. All of them
throwing verbal assaults at one another AT THE SAME TIME!
CHAOS! CHAOS! But, a GOOD chaos."
More clicks of the mouse brings up alt.horror.cthulhu.
Tenebrous, a cool-headed newsgroup aficionado introduces the
'Aeon of Cthulhu Rising': "By the same token, those
initiates of the Esoteric Order of Dagon who are working
towards the Opening of the Gate of Yog-Sothoth must be
prepared to undertake this most dangerous descent into the
Abyss of Daath (the so-called 'false knowledge') in order to
activate these formulae effectively" (Tenebrous, 22 Nov.
1996) Tenebrous can be called a member of the cult of
Cthulhu, a group worshipping a misanthropic God chained
"beneath the waves" (Lovecraft, 1992) which will eventually
("when the stars are right") wipe out humanity and reclaim
earth once again (Alquier, 1996). Howard Phillips Lovecraft,
a pulp horror writer in the 1920's, invented Cthulhu. Both
the author and his Gothic creations have been raised to
a prophetic level over the years. Tenebrous
writes, "In his pivotal Mythos tale, 'The Call of Cthulhu,'
Lovecraft has adumbrated the first portents of this
return..." ( 22 Nov. 1996)
The above messages appear on newsgroups catering
to three quirky, unorthodox, and downright odd religious
groups. The Web in general, and newsgroups in particular,
are mobilizing these new religious movements in ways
never comprehended. At one time, these groups would wreak
the havoc and chaos they worship in localized spheres.
Cyberspace is bridging the gaps between small groups and
transforming the clusters into national movements. It is
doing this without any of the rules commonly associated with
the institutionalization of groups. Members of
Discordianism, the Church of the SubGenius, and the Cthulhu
cult abhor conventional social groupings, methods of
organization, and hierarchies. The Web has none of these. It
is a wild no-man's land, or, "an additional parallel:...the
nineteenth-century American frontier" (Burstein and Kline:
1995, 8). The Web is electronic in form, post-modern in
spirit, and altogether chaotic. No wonder members like Hal
Phillips, Reverend Unibomber, and Tenebrous thrive in the
virtual forum offered by the Web. They worship Chaos. They
are committed to Chaos. But, like the Reverend stated in his
post..."GOOD chaos."
How do religious groups that thrive on chaos create and
maintain solidarity among members? Do they even wish to?
What does solidarity mean to these groups? What about
beliefs, morals, and loyalty? Members, if they can be called
that at all, hold conventional ways of life in disdain,
including 'traditional' conceptions of solidarity and
commitment. They forage for creativity and discord in
conversation, action, and belief. They spread pluralism and
walk the edge of social fragmentation. Post-modernists in
action, Discordians, SubGenii and Cthulhuvians are
constructing global on-line social realities that mirror the
unpredictable local worlds they live in off-line.
These global social realities are being molded through
the medium of the computer screen. Whole worlds in the shape
of bits and bytes are constructed in the name of these
groups' beliefs and tenets. This social reality is
cyberspace: a surreal, nonempirical world that is growing at
an accelerated pace in many social environments.
Cyberspace has its own laws, rules, language, morals,
etiquette, and structure...though almost all of them are
violated at some time or another, making way for constant
innovation and change. The individuals putting together
cyberspace find power in the fact that they are the dominant
order in this brave new world. They hold the keys to its
creation, maintenance and destruction. Though, like anyone
in power, they know that their world can retaliate in the
shape of viruses, other 'cyberconstructionalists,' or sheer outage of
electricity.
Thus, they recognize that power in cyberspace, and the
order that arises from it, can disappear as quickly as it
arrived. The social reality of cyberspace is chaotic and
utterly unpredictable. Individuals involved in cyberspace
find meaning and establish culture in the gods and beliefs
of Discordianism, the Church of the SubGenius and the cults
of Cthulhu. Like cyberspace, these religious groups are
built (and indeed thrive) on chaos.
This Incredible New Faith, Authorized to Blaspheme by the Gods Themselves,
is the First All-Purpose Beliefe System to be Compatible With Most Major World
Religiona and Many Weird Cults--Without Expensive Interfaces!!
-The Church of the SubGenius Pamphlet #2, page 2
(Stang, 1996)
They are referred to as 'joke religions' or 'parodies'
on-line. Their deities are a smorgasbord of kaleidoscopic
imagery: a Goddess of Discord, an insanity-wreaking
cephalopod, and a pipe smoking, drill equipment salesman.
Beliefs can be summed up in a number of Zen-like sayings:
"Orthodoxy is the only heresy," "Don't believe what you
read," or "Cthulhu loathes you." Their members are bound
with a mysterious code borne out of new worldviews
incorporating technology and underground cultures. The
origins of Discordianism, the Church of the SubGenius, and
the Cthulhu cultists are as unusual as the gods and
goddesses they worship.
The human race will begin solving it's problems
on the day that it ceases taking itself so
seriously. To that end, POEE proposes the
countergame of NONSENSE AS SALVATION.
-The Principia Discordia (1994: 74)
An important concept behind these groups should be
dealt with before beginning an investigation of their
origins: the "ha ha only serious" mentality of the members,
their scriptures, and their beliefs. The Graz University of
Technology define "ha ha only serious" in their "Hacker
Lexicon" as,
A phrase (often seen abbreviated as HHOS) that
aptly captures the flavor of much hacker
discourse. Applied especially to parodies,
absurdities, and ironic jokes that are both
intended and perceived to contain a possibly
disquieting amount of truth, or truths that are
constructed on in-joke and self-parody. Indeed,
the entirety of hacker culture is often
perceived as ha-ha-only-serious by hackers
themselves; to take it either too lightly or
too seriously marks a person as an outsider...
(22 Nov. 1996).
Graz University uses the term to describe hackers'
perceptions of the social environment, but goes on to apply
it to the members of the members of the Church of the
SubGenius, Discordianism, and the cults of Cthulhu. A "ha ha
only serious" mentality resides in many of the postings on
each of the group's newsgroups. There is a fine line (and it
is drawn in each group with various labels) between those
who "get it" and those who don't.
In sociological circles, these groups typically are not
researched, due mostly to the jeopardy one faces in studying
"nonsense." The "ha ha only serious" worldview has not yet
been considered as a socially learned skill. Until it is,
groups like the Church of the SubGenius, the Discordians and
the Cthulhuvians will not be taken seriously as subjectss of
study. In essence, the "joke" will continue until the groups
engage in activity that merits traditional attention placed
upon them, either in the media or in academia.
Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wagn'nagl
fhtagn.
In his house in R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits
dreaming.
- from "The Call of Cthulhu," by H.P. Lovecraft
(1992: 120)
It is appropriate, in a conventional sense, to begin
with H.P. Lovecraft and his offspring, Cthulhu. Theirs is
the earliest appearance, at least in terms of the history
timeline accepted by most. The author introduced his oozing
monstrosity in 1928 in Weird Science (Alquier, 1996), one of
a slew of pulp magazines spewing out horror and what was to
become science fiction. Lovecraft was a reclusive author; he
had already been divorced and was back living with his aunts
in Rhode Island when "The Call of Cthulhu" was published
(Alquier: 1996). He stuck to himself. He didn't get out
much, and his mind was as curious as the strange and
horrible fiction that emerged from it. Philip A. Shreffer,
in The H.P. Lovecraft Companion, writes
Lovecraft was a fairly hard-boiled
scientific materialist who tended not to believe
in what could not be measured or perceived
sensorily. But, at the same time, he had a deep
sensitivity to the horrific qualities of
antiquity, an understanding that the further
back into history he could trace the patterns of
human belief and behavior, the further he could
remove his fiction from the known. And in
approaching the antique unknown, he felt, the
easier it is to stimulate fear.
This is why so many of Lovecraft's tales
root themselves in a mythos of unseen and
undimensioned monsters that existed before the
advent of man on earth, or else involve fantasy
lands that are at once strange and familiar,
often having derivative place names, like
Sarnath, which is an archeological site in India
(1985: 37)
Cthulhu was a moderate hit among consumers of the pulp
magazine (Alquier, 1996). Most readers preferred action-
packed tales of two-fisted monsters and buxom babes in
tear-away clothing. Lovecraft's myths had neither. He
describes Cthulhu in the twisted pages of his short story:
It represented a monster of vaguely anthropoid
outline, but with an octopus-like head whose
face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-
looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore
feet, and long, narrow wings behind. This thing,
which seemed instinct with a fearsome and
unnatural malignancy, was of a somewhat bloated
corpulence...(Lovecraft, 1992: 129)
Lovecraft's mythology is rooted in insanity, fear, and
darkness. His Gods arrived on Earth eons ago, and after
ruling for millions of years, are now resting, or are
imprisoned in various space/time continuums. In his stories,
characters inadvertedly unearth these misanthropic deities,
which inevitably leads to insanity or death. Cthulhu was no
exception. A gigantic, dripping horror who "lay dreaming,
but not dead" (Lovecraft, 1992: 124) beneath the waves of
the Pacific ocean, Cthulhu conjured up Biblical visions of
Leviathan, Jonah's whale, and the Devil. The story would
become one of Lovecraft's most famous ventures into the
mythos he constructed. Lovecraft died of syphilis in 1938, a
hermit finding solace only in his dark creations (Loukes,
1996).
His writings would lay dormant for decades. Some
interested parties compiled and published collections of
his works in the 1960s and 1970s but it was the decade of
the 1980s that exhumed Lovecraft, freed Cthulhu from his
watery prison, and incited rabid interest in both (Gaiman,
in Lovecraft, 1992: preface). This can be credited to a
number of sources. Stephen King's enormously popular
fiction (see 1981, and especially 1983) were often mass
marketed derivations of Lovecraft's work. Many people saw
more of Lovecraft through King (and other heirs to his
throne of Gothic horror) than they did in his own works.
King's novels paved the way for a re-released deluge of
Lovecraft's work. Second, a move in fashion towards Gothic-
toned clothing, make-up and attitude influenced a small
portion of youth in the 1980's (Fine, 1984: 274). This
Gothic attitude was sponsored by, in large part, authors
like Lovecraft. Finally, Chaosium Inc. published the role-
playing game, Call of Cthulhu. The game sells thousands of
copies a year (Appel, 1996), and its spin-off products
have been doing well also.
From these humble beginnings, the various cults of
Cthulhu have spawned new role players, avid interest in
Lovecraft's literature, and a number of individuals and
groups who believe that Cthulhu is real and that Lovecraft
the prophet knew it all along. What it all boils down to is
that Cthulhu is returning eventually, and he is going to
destroy humanity. This comforts most Cthulhuvians. The ones
who aren't comforted will go to all ends describing the
fruitlessness of escape, or will simply flash a cybersmile
[:)], and leave an empty space in their newsgroup message.
It's timely, apocalyptic chaos that reveals the fear of the
unknown in all of us.
Before the beginning was the Nonexistent Chao,
balanced in Oblivion by the perfect
Counterpushpull of the Hodge and the Podge.
- The Principia Discordia, 'Bible' of the
Discordians, (1994: 44)
Following a chronological pattern, Discordianism is up
next. Discordianism originated in 1957 at a bowling alley in
southern California (Malaclypse the Younger, 1994: 7-8).
Kerry Thornley and Greg Hill allegedly experienced the
cessation of the time/space continuum in a bowling alley for
a few seconds, and reached a state of enlightenment. When
everything returned to normal, they sat down and formulated
a reason: chaos. Soon afterwards, the two published a book,
the Principia Discordia. In it, they describe the situation
that prompted the revelation:
Just prior to the decade of the nineteen-
sixties, when Sputnik was alone and new, and
about the time that Ken Kesey took his first
acid trip as a medical volunteer; before
underground newspapers, Viet Nam, and talk of a
second American Revolution; in the comparative
quiet of the late nineteen-fifties, just before
the idea of RENAISSANCE became relevant...
Two young Californians, known later as
Omar Ravenhurst and Malaclypse the Younger, were
indulging in their habit of sipping coffee at an
allnight bowling alley and generally solving the
world's problems. This particular evening the
main subject of discussion was discord and they
were complaining to each other of the personal
confusion they felt in their respective lives.
"Solve the problem of discord," said one, "and
all other problems will vanish." (1994: 7)
The next evening, one of the young men had a dream.
Eris, the Greek goddess of discord visited him in his sleep,
saying, "I am chaos. I am the substance from which your
artists and scientists build rhythms. I am the spirit with
which your children and clowns laugh in happy anarchy. I am
chaos. I am alive, and I tell you that you are free" (1994:
8-9). Principia Discordia, and the belief structure
surrounding it, revel in the discord caused by Eris who
started the Trojan War when, perturbed at not being invited
to a gala of the Gods, threw a golden apple into the crowd
of deities On the apple was inscribed the word kallisti, or
"to the fairest." Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite bickered over
who should possess the apple, and eventually Paris made off
with Helen after choosing the Goddess of Love (Lee, 1996).
Eris, according to Thornley and Hill, has been causing
havoc since the 'beginning' (1994: 55). After the first run
of the Principia Discordia, cabals centering on the worship
of Eris began appearing in the San Francisco Bay area.
Through the second and third run of the book (all by various
publishers), more cabals appeared across the United States.
Margot Adler writes, "Discordians and Erisians are very much
present in the Pagan community today. They make their
presence known at Pagan festivals, and there are several
journals with a Discordian point of view" (1985: 336). Some
were small, others only had a member or two. None could be
considered great in number. Today, there are over thirty
different groups advertising their activities on the Web and
inviting others to join the ranks of the 'Apple Corps.'
As well as a revival of esoteric Greek and Roman
mythology, Discordianism is a "self-subverting Dada-Zen for
Westerners" (Buxton, 1996). Members revel in the mysteries
of Eris while often harboring curiosity and fear of a
millennia-long war between the discord of their Goddess and
the authoritarian order of a secret society, the Illuminati.
They hold the pineal gland to be the highest of all parts of
the human body: it is there that all change takes place.
Crucial to their belief structure is the hodge-podge, or
Sacred Chao, a symbol similar to the yin-yang that
characterizes the twisting relationship of chaos and order.
YES -- AFTER ALL THESE CENTURIES of organized
"belief" -- a religion that finally comes out
and admits that "IT" CAN'T BE SAID because "IT"
IS WHAT IS BEING SAID AND DOING THE SAYING AT
THE SAME TIME.
- Church of the SubGenius Pamphlet #2, Page 3
(Stang: 1996)
The Church of the SubGenius is a "mutant offshoot of
Discordianism," (Graz University, 1996) founded in Dallas,
Texas. It was created by 'Reverend' Ivan Stang in 1981 as a
spoof on fundamental Christianity. Instead of God as an
almighty force, Stang puts the spotlight on the individual.
The Church makes grand claims (evident in two of the above
quotes from its ubiquitous pamphlets distributed across many
American College campuses) about the universe, society, and
people who have "bought into the Conspiracy" (Stang, 1996).
Stang and the other SubGenii focus on individuals who
are different, who stand out from the crowd. The SubGenius
Pamphlet #1 asks readers, "DO PEOPLE THINK YOU'RE STRANGE?
DO YOU??...THEN YOU MAY BE ON THE RIGHT TRACK!
'UNPREDICTABLES' ARE NOT ALONE AND POSSESS AMAZING HIDDEN
POWERS OF THEIR OWN!" (Stang: 1996) And later asks, "Are You
Abnormal? THEN YOU ARE PROBABLY BETTER THAN MOST PEOPLE!"
The Church appeals to elitists and losers, individuals of
the same coin who feel too different to 'join up or die.'
Stang uses this quality to pool these people under the term
SubGenius. SubGenii, Stang writes, are part of "A SPAZZ-
CHURCH OF MACHO IRONY!!!" (Stang, 1996)
They also recruit from the ranks of the angry youth who
are tired of the rampant institutionalization taking place
in the United States (Stang: 1996). The Church of the
SubGenius has as its 'host' the mysterious quality of slack,
or "something for nothing." Until we don't "have to work for
living," the SubGenii will battle the forces of the
'Conspiracy' (Stang, 1983). The Church grew, due in part to
Stang's unusual "gift for promotion" (Graz University:
1996). Yet it was the 'graven image' of J. R. "Bob" Dobbs,
the smiling salesman (and deity of the SubGenii) and his
theory of slack that propelled the Church forward in terms
of membership growth and prevalence in a variety of social
groups. Dobbs, a straight laced, pipe smoking icon of the
1950's, was a drill equipment salesman until he discovered a
flying saucer in his backyard. Dobbs became relatively
infamous in the area where he worked.
Stang chose "Bob" as the omniscient symbol for slack
that the Church of the SubGenius espouses in published
material, paraphernalia like bumper stickers, and web pages.
The SubGenii pride themselves on their lack of a work ethic
or an appreciation for the status quo, and consider those
who possess such an appreciation to be "Pinks" or "Normals,"
both derisive term. The SubGenii utilize mantra-like sayings
that are part of their "Brain Toolkit" to show that
"everything you know is true" (Stang, 1992: 2), a statement
that is opposite to the Discordian sentiment, "everything
you know is wrong" (Malaclypse the Younger, 1994: 34).
Members gather together infrequently for "creative
consumption" parties, "short duration marriages," or rap
sessions that lead to new ideas for the religion's goals.
Most consider themselves to be a Pope or Reverend of
something or other, a quality of elitism that inhibits
organized group activity. Preferably, the SubGenii subvert
surrounding environments on a collective level, by
communicating ideas on-line and in print.
I (Thaddeus "navarone" Gunn) am putting together
a CARAVRANT to X-Day '97...a ponderous serpentine juggernaut of supercharged
RV's that will cross this country from sea to bleeding sea, preaching the
words of Dobbs all the way from Seattle to Sherman, NY.
- a rousing message posted on
alt.slack which eventually garnered 23 responses of approval (alt.slack: 15
Oct. 1996)
When the
groups gather together physically, it is either through close friendship
networks, disordered meetings replicating the blaze of cyber-messages on the
Web, or vast Dionysian festivals that are driven by the will of chaos. The
groups claim to have gathered for years outside the on-line community.
Discordians state that they hold "Discordian Days Out" where members romp on
highway exits blocking traffic for miles. The Church of the SubGenius hold
X-Day Drills in anticipation of the world ending. Cthulhu cults engage in a
number of activities: arcane magical rites, brooding role playing games, and
discussion groups that support the eerie Lovecraft tradition. These gatherings
(and others like them) still occur on a local level. Although some of the
activities are questionable (for instance, the Discordian Days Out) others
have been seen by other researchers (like SubGenius devivals), or are public
affairs (like Cthulhuvian gaming conventions).
It is the Web, however, that has propelled the groups to
a whole new level of contact and networking. The Web allows anyone to exchange
ideas with anyone. These cults are no exception. The groups communicate
beliefs, thoughts, and ideas via messages on websites and newsgroups on the
Internet. The Web has provided the groups a crazed, ever- changing forum in
which to gather. The Web complements the ideals and practices espoused by
members since their inceptions. In essence, the Web and the newsgroups amplify
the locally constructed, loosely organized organizational structures and
beliefs that had existed before their expansion (Burstein and Kline, 1996:
54).
Discordianism has spread
localized chaos by inflicting SNAFUs (Situation Normal All Fucked Up) and OMs
(Operation Mindfuck) on taken-for-granted social norms. Now they can inflict
more discomfort by teaching thousands who read their messages and sites the
'Garfinkling' techniques that have made them famous in such areas as the San
Francisco Bay Area. Newsgroup participants arrive from Ohio, Florida, even
Great Britain. The Church of the SubGenius recruits heavily in Dallas and
along the West Coast. With the Web, their pool of 'converts' grows a hundred
fold. The cults of Cthulhu, born in the mind of a pulp writer has a well
established community on the Web. Lovecraft's writings are explained, members
can critique ideas, and discover secrets about the magical tomes mentioned in
Cthulhuvian texts. The local has become the global.
The unique nature of growth and
expansion of these groups in recent years can be credited largely to the
cyberspace movement and the individuals involved in its creation. These groups
find life in cyberspace, as opposed to established groups who use the Web and
its many facets to simply enrich the already existing movement. The Web is the
lightning rod for disparate non-joiners who abhor stability and feed off of
discord, mayhem and anarchy (Slatalla and Quittner, 1995: 3). To purists, this
is what the Web is all about. It is no wonder these individuals are attracted
to such religions as the Church of the SubGenius, Discordianism and the cults
of Cthulhu.
How does chaos
give meaning to the lives of these individuals? Better: why is it the center
of worship? Chaos is often used in the prophetic mode to derail dominant
orders. This is happening in cyberspace as different parties vie for control
of the bits and bytes and how to use them.
In the case of these religious groups, chaos becomes the
beacon of rebellion (Michaels, 21 Nov. 1996). The religions, in essence, form
a belief structure and philosophy around the concept of chaos. They are intent
on disrupting the order they claim has stagnated society.
The members accomplish this task
by preparing and conducting "inversion rituals" that parody traditional
rituals and beliefs found in more established faiths. These "inversion
rituals" aim to deconstruct what members claim to be mindlessly ordered social
reality. Once deconstructed, the pieces can be put back together in a playful
fashion. This tactic is thoroughly post-modern and has been used in artistic
circles for decades (Sarup, 1993 and Kumar, 1995).
Thus, chaos compels individuals of these three groups to
find new meaning in old symbols. In reveling in the unholy and discordant
throes of chaos, members perceive these rituals as unshackling tools; rites
which allow them to fully explore the creative, innovative, unpredictable, and
novel.
This playful nature
extends even to the very worlds they are constructing online. When members
critique the onslaught of goverment regulation and capitalistic tendencies on
the Internet, they, in essence, are critiquing the system from within. They
have created this world, and now they are in a constant batle with it; always
hoping to push it further before it can be entrenched by more ordered social
circles.
Members of the three
religious prosper in these ongoing "inversion rituals." The rites keep them
active in their community, in their religion, and prompt them to continually
voice support or disdain for ideas that cross their path. In a way, these
individuals are audience members in a digital age. In another, they are active
participants in a medium that has not been fully explored.
CRUZIO: In
Illuminatus!, you talk about neophiles and neophobes, the lovers and haters of
things that are new. Might that not be a measure a person's ability to deal
with unpredictability?
WILSON: Yeah, I think people are going to have to get
used to a lot more uncertainty which is what all my books are preaching, the
acceptance of uncertainty, a high tolerance for uncertainty.
- from an interview with Robert
Anton Wilson, author, futurist, guerilla ontologist (Cruzio, 1996)
Are these groups in fact
religions? They have beliefs in supernatural forces, are organized to the
extent that they can be named, and are committed to chaos. They've been around
for awhile and have enough resolution among members to keep dialogue,
gatherings and literature in the public domain. Yet they frown upon stability,
spit upon dogma, and continue to change scripture held 'sacred' by members.
They gather together, but never at periodic sessions (except on the Web, which
is itself not fixed in any spectrum except the use of programming language).
Anyone can declare themselves a Reverend in either Discordianism or the Church
of the SubGenius. Anyone can take the risk of reciting arcane magickal spells
in the name of Cthulhu. In the end, it is the groups themselves that decide
whether they're religions.
Discordians and SubGenii are quick to declare religiosity
(see Kumar, 23 Aug, 1996; Phillips, 21 Oct. 1996; and Sutter, 21 Aug., 1996).
The cults of Cthulhu are slightly less apt to do so, since they are fragmented
into a variety of classifications, though there are a number of groups who are
open in their faith in Cthulhu and his minions beyond the stars (see Damerall,
1996). Due to the snarled, disperse nature of worship, some sociologists will
classify the three groups as audience cults (Stark and Bainbridge, 1979: 126
and 1985: 26).
Audience cults
are part of a model of new religious movements established by Rodney Stark and
Bill Bainbridge in 1979. The authors divided new religious movements into
three categories: audience cults, client cults, and cult movements. First and
foremost, the authors asserted that members of audience cults (and the cult
leaders) simply attended lecture circuit talks, never really participating,
and thus never finding (nor establishing) solidarity (1985: 210). "Three
degrees of organization (or lack of organization) characterize cults," they
write. "The most diffuse and least organized kind is an audience cult" (1985:
26). This broad category includes UFO conventions, astrology column readers
and devourers of occult literature. Without organization, the authors declare,
a religious group is no more than an audience cult, an aggregate of
individuals who have only indistinct interests in common.
Discordians, SubGenii and the
Cthulhu cultists demand a category that does their way of living, manner of
thinking, and belief systems justice. Indeed, they do thrive on a diffuse,
unorganized form of worship. They originated in the writings of a small number
of individuals. But their acceptance of new forms of communication prevalent
in computers today warrants an expansion of the term audience cult that
considers both their acceptance of novel types of organization and the
unpredictability of the Net and communication in general. The term audience
cult needs a sibling for two reasons.
The first is the fact that The Future of Religion was
written in 1985, and was based on work published in the Journal for the
Scientific Study of Religion in 1979. Before 1988, the Web was being used by
the military, the government, and a small group of academics. Hardly anyone
knew about it or its potential. In fact, the Third Wave had not even begun
yet. Audiences lapped up written material and attended lectures and seminars.
And then moved on. It was one-way communication. This is why commitment to a
certain group was nonexistent. The audience could simply get up and leave when
it was tired or bored. There were always other audience cults to visit. The
Web changed all this. It introduced global two-way communication and it used
the computer monitor to incorporate all kinds of media into the equation.
Suddenly, the audience could talk back. The audience became a dynamic, active
force, instead of a passive aggregate.
The second reason for a new term is what some parties
call the post-modern age. Post-modernity has changed many of the ways Western
society looks at social grouping, organization, and solidarity (Sarup, 1993:
130). Krishan Kumar writes, "The idea of a national culture and national
identity is assailed in the name of 'minority' cultures - the cultures of
particular ethnic groups, religious faiths, and communities based on age,
gender, or sexuality" (1995: 122). Zygmunt Bauman described the new social
groupings of individuals as a stream of water, lapping here and there, and
then moving on (1992: 180). There aren't any more social classes. In their
place are regional, local organizations that are linked globally through
technological communication breakthroughs, like the Internet and the Web.
The grandfather of
post-modernism, Lyotard states that post-modernity "accepts and reworks the
past, often in a playful, parodic or affectionate form, rather than rejecting
it wholesale" (Kumar, 1995: 111). This quality in the groups will become
evident later in the paper. And Ihab Hassan has declared that unlike modernity
(which had as its focal point 'Authority'), post-modernity has 'Anarchy'
(1995: 108). Discordianism, the Church of the Subgenius and the cults of
Cthulhu embody this spirit. In a way, they have held the chaotic flame high
since their founding days, whether they be fifteen, forty, or seventy years
ago.
Now that the theories
of post-modernity and the Web have vindicated their unorthodox methods of
organization and solidarity, they have begun convalescing, growing out of the
term audience cult towards something new, active, dynamic.
These particular audience cults
would be better defined as neophilic irreligions.
Neophilic, a term coined by futurist Robert Anton Wilson (1975), refers to the
quality in individuals that accepts or relishes the 'new' or unfamiliar by
actively participating in its construction. The neophile is not opposed to
altering his belief structure, or the organizational structure of his group,
so long as it aids in the dispersal of stagnation and eternal truths (as they
have been understood in modernistic terms). Like post-modernity, a neophile
"braces itself for a life without truths, standards, and ideals" (Bauman:
1992, ix).
An irreligion uses
the protocol of conventional (read "established") religions to dismantle
reality tunnels, or singular perceptions of a lifeworld by disrupting norms
and social conventions. This is the playful, parodic nature of post-modernity.
Like architects and artists who define themselves as post-modern, the
neophiles would welcome this term (and if not, at least act on the principles
that are currently in vogue).
Audience cults warrant this augmented definition for a
number of reasons, most of which are in response to Stark and Bainbridge's
definitions in The Future of Religion. Stark and Bainbridge write that
audience cults are "...even less close to being religions" (1985: 209) than
client cults, and "membership remains at most a consumer activity" (1985:
340). They assert that "[s]sometimes, audience cults make rather grand claims
about the nature of the world and of the human species" (1985:209). They
resolve that "although each audience cult is far from being a religion,
collectively, they communicate a pale reflection of the religious" (1985: 210)
and that "[t]his interpretation may explain why audience cults seldom solidify
into cult movements" (1985: 211).
To some extent, the characteristics detailed by the
authors are correct. However, the members of these diffuse webs of individuals
display attributes of cult movements, albeit in novel ways unrecognized or
unappreciated by researchers who use previously established "cultic templates"
as gauges for new areas of study. First, the irreligions are more organized
than other audience cults previously studied by the two sociologists (however,
members condemn the word 'organized,' preferring instead to appear
disorganized and diffuse). They establish weekly newsgroup sessions, organize
meetings where all members can voice opinions, and allow individuals to
express beliefs on personal websites.
Second, they provide unique ultimate meanings for
members, invalidating Stark and Bainbridge's claim that they "communicate a
pale reflection of the religious" 91985: 210). The irreligions have a strong
belief system resting on metaphysical, deity-oriented mythology. Third, there
are general compensators that provide a context, culture, and worldview for
members. These compensators, resting on the ultimate meaning systems erected,
are created by members, and determine their behavior in far greater ways than
the compensator "diffuse hope" (1985: 210) proposed by the authors. Fourth,
the groups establish antagonistic ties with the surrounding environment and
conventional, or normalized, social and religious groups.
The three groups find strength
in the unpredictable nature of communication, and thus, the social
environment. They activate religious and social change not in group oriented
services or rituals (although some members gather for such events), but by
proposing archetypal, ever-changing reality loops backed with strange new
imagery that capture, confront, and cooperate with the new communication
paradigm emerging from and producing the Information Age. In this way, they
are audience cults. However, it is an appreciation for new organizational
structures, unpredictable deities and beliefs, and a sense of competition with
the surrounding environment that make these three groups full-fledged cult
movements in the making.
The groups were created long before the Web was invented,
but much of their recent growth can be attributed to and correlated with the
blossoming Web. There are as many, if not more, web sites and newsgroup
messages posted for these irreligions than other established religions.
Although "web counters" are an imprecise measure of growth (web designers can
'set' counters to any number they desire when establishing a site), many
individuals visit these sites on a daily basis.
This, I contend, is because a majority of members in
these neophilic irreligions participate actively in the construction of the
Web and its many facets and attributes. The Web is owned by no single entity,
and no laws dictate the design and quality of the gear that run it. The same
applies to the three groups researched for this paper. 'Members' of both
groups (the Web community and the irreligions) pride themselves on these
characteristics.
Before
discussing the three groups' roles on the Web and in the Information Age in
general, a brief discussion of the Internet and communication are necessary in
order to provide a backdrop for these religions, and to illustrate the
relationship between ways the Internet functions and members interact with
others, both in the groups and out.
Despite the demise doomsayers have predicted for the last
four years, most agree that the Web is here to stay (Ziegler, 1996: B1). It
serves as a novel communication device, binding groups of people together in a
way never thought of before: the computer interface. Comments like "I'm
talking a catastrophic collapse, which I'm pretty sure will happen this year"
(1996: B1) are evident in some circles, but they are antithetical to the
concept of the Web. Netscape Communications Corp.'s chairman, Jim Clark says,
"It will get to the breaking point just like the phone system has throughout
time" (1996, B1) And then, he adds, new service providers will add capacity to
avoid losing customers. The Web is controlled by no one, and thus will
probably always crash, but never burn.
The number of Web sites on the Internet has grown from a
few thousand five years ago to an estimated 50 million today (See Ziegler and
Burstein and Kline). These sites form a conglomerate forum, a virtual
marketplace of information for users. Access to the forum is often slow, but
it is always there. It is this feature that makes the Web a new form of social
organization. The name World Wide Web illustrates this attribute beautifully.
A metaphor for a spider's habitat, the Web is linked everywhere by hypertext,
a program used to design web pages.
Individuals are organizing themselves differently because
of the Web. Groups can form, gather, and disband in a number of hours. E-mail,
newsgroups and web sites make group cohesion an immediate possibility. Groups
have realized they no longer have to physically gather in order to bring about
the social changes on their agenda. Loyalty is judged in terms of availability
and online conversation. Those who get in the way of the group's greater goals
are flamed, killfiled, or shunned (Graz University, 1996).
These words are still alien to
most social groups, but they are part of the hacker vocabulary. Hackers
created the Web, e-mail, and the newsgroups that millions engage everyday. The
hacker, originally meaning "someone who made furniture with an ax," (1996) is
"a person who enjoys exploring the details of programmable systems and how to
stretch their capabilities, as opposed to most users who prefer to learn only
the minimum necessary" (1996). Another definition from the Hacker Lexicon of
Graz Technical University: "One who enjoys the intellectual challenge of
creatively overcoming or circumventing limitations" (1996).
The factors of time and
proximity in communication networks are some of these limitations they have
bested, or continue to confront with zeal. Hackers worked on the radio,
telephone, and the television. Now they work on the Internet, breaking down
the hindrances space and time present to communication networks.
What they have created is an
increase in the flow of information. The social environment is experiencing a
flux of ideas due to the increased alacrity of messages that technology
affords. The hackers are responsible for this (Slatalla and Quittner, 1995:
230). They are producing technology at a far greater pace than most can keep
up with. This is the reason why the media and other labeling agents have
coined this period the "Age of Information." With this opened faucet of
information, however, comes, as futurist Robert Anton Wilson states, social
chaos (Cruzio, 1996).
Social
chaos theory rests on the idea that as communication increases in a system,
chaos increases. Discordians are proponents of this theory and 'disguise' it
in all of their literature. A number of scientists have accepted chaos theory
as the foundation for their work (see Wheatley, 1994, Gell-Mann, 1993). Chaos
Theory in mathematics has been applied for a hundred years since the work of
Henre Poincare.
Its
application in the social sciences is cutting edge now, seeing that chaos
theory disrupts linear models of system analysis. Chaos theorists often focus
on information as a source of chaos in the social environment. Wilson
writes:
Information: A measure of the unpredictability of a
message; that is, the more unpredictable a message is, the more information it
contains. Since systems tend to disorder (according to the second law of
thermodynamics), we can think of the degree of order in a system as the amount
of information in it (1979: 542).
It is apparent that with the growth of the Web and the
frenzied work of programming hackers in the last few years, the amount of
order in the social environment has decreased, and the amount of
unpredictability and chaos has increased. So, hackers have created more chaos
and confusion in the flow of information by making it easier to communicate.
How does this affect their worldview? Well, in many ways. Most of which I
experienced while conducting research into these somewhat troublesome
groups.
I can't fucking believe the number of people that
responded to the gang of zit-faced mental defectives that are posting
worthless shit here!!!! Use your KILLFILES, that's what they're here for.
Ignore the worthless fucks!
You can't embarrass Net-Scum because the don't have any
fucking brains to start with. If you try you just slide to their level. [lower
then whale-shit]
If you don't
read their worthless posts, then they don't exist anymore. Anyone that
habitually responds to this shit is going in my kill-file, as ell, just like
that worthless bitch NOMAD!
-Bill, on alt.discordia and alt.slack (alt.slack: 24 Oct.
1996)
Researching the
Web is both an exercise in futility and an activity of fruitfulness. It is, as
Burstein and Kline write in Road Warriors, a no-man's land (1996). Better,
there's an every-man-for-himself mentality that governs the medium. It can run
harmoniously like a pure democratic community, or erupt into an anarchic
motley of 404 error messages and electronic dead ends. The cyberworld of the
three irreligions embody both aspects. Their websites are some of the most
organized, beautiful, and extensive on the World Wide Web. Their newsgroups
are some of the discordant, frustrating around. Their sites represent the well
honed ability at HTML coding and linking while the newsgroups they participate
in express the randomness that constitute their worldviews.
The methodology used to collect
data for this project was as eclectic as the data itself. In a way, I was a
participant observer. In another, I was an infiltrator, drawing the members
out into the open, exposing their beliefs and ideas about the religions they
belong to.
May 1996 began the
search for the secrets behind the ironic and unconventional veils of the three
irreligions. I began exploring the byways of the Web, compiling information on
as many sites I could find that related to the three groups. In hacker jargon,
I was a lurker, an individual who views a web site but offers neither praise
nor criticism of the content. Most people 'cruising' the World Wide Web are
lurkers. Hackers liken lurkers to mere television viewers. They use this term
with a tone of disdain and contempt. Most hackers believe that the Web should
be interactive. If you stumble into a no-man's land, they reason, better be
ready to converse with the locals or other travelers.
But the Web allows lurkers to
abound. Despite historical records stored in bits and bytes inside hard drives
by bots (programs that collect and retrieve information for users) most
lurkers can go undetected in the journeys around cyberspace. This is how I
proceeded from May to July of 1996.
I decided to "come out of the closet" to many of the
individuals participating in the groups near the end of the summer. I
contacted the webmasters (creators or maintainers of the Web sites I visited)
via e-mail to conduct interviews and glean any information from them that
wasn't apparent on their sites.
Most responses were terse and to the point. Neophiles
don't trust researchers. They feel labeled, packaged for an academic paper
that'll categorize and box them. This is something no neophile, and certainly
no irreligion wishes for. So I changed my approach in the beginning of
September. I joined the three major newsgroups introduced at the beginning of
the paper.
Newsgroups are
like a Hollywoodized Old West Saloon. There are the regulars who grunt over
their cards, and stick with others at their card table. These are the
individuals who post all the time, and end up having on-line conversations at
least three to four times a week.
There are the heroes in white Stetsons and spurs who drop
in, try to clean things up, and then move on after meeting with failure (or
death: read killfiled). On newsgroups, this is the individual who hears about
the ideas of one of the irreligion, and tries to convince the regulars that
they have it all wrong, that they're steered the wrong way (wrong beliefs,
wrong attitude, etc.). They get killfiled or shunned out of existence.
There are the young guys who
don't necessarily want to prove anything, want in on the card game but don't
know the rules yet. These are the infamous newbies, so called because they are
'net babies who haven't learned the ropes of adult life on the Web, or on a
particular newsgroup. They blunder into closed conversations, offend regulars,
or stumble over beliefs and customs. Most of the time they're escorted out of
the newsgroup to the FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) and told to stay there
until they've learned enough to post something worth talking about.
Finally, there are the
troublemakers who achieve the reputation of "most hated poster." There are at
least four of these on alt.discordia, for example. They're a little like
parasites, and a lot like cancer. They gnaw away at posted messages, and stick
around even though they're avoided. They're usually the regulars who get shot
at the Old West Saloon table after they get too annoying during many hands of
poker.
I decided to enter the
newsgroups as a lurker, just to get my bearings. I even read the FAQs for each
of the three groups before testing the waters. But I was pegged as a newbie
immediately on alt.horror.cthulhu and as a hero on both alt.discordia and
alt.slack. It might have to do with the messages I posted. On alt.cthulhu:
Does anyone actually believe in Cthulhu? I have seen the
site for the Chaos Cult of Cthulhu CCCXXXIII, but everything else seems to
revolve around his presence in role-playing games.
On alt.discordia:
I was handed a copy of the 'Principia Discordia'
yesterday and I decided to check out the messages on the Discordian
newsgroup.
I don't get it. If
you guys call yourselves a religion, how can you foster commitment among
members if you like chaos so much? A faith is built upon solidarity and
stability, not discord and strife.
Most the messages I've read have to do with flaming one
another and contain snide comments.
A faith needs to go further than this in order to
survive. There needs to be a place of worship, a set service time and no
tongue-in- cheek irony behind all that you believe.
The book was interesting, but it
seems that the Discordians won't last long if they keep telling people 'not to
join' or 'don't believe anything.'
The individual who handed me the copy of the 'Principia
Discordia' also handed me a copy of the Book of the SubGenius. I've decided to
go ahead and post a similar message at their newsgroup.
And on alt.slack:
All right, I've posted with alt.discordia and gotten a
reply. But I need to ask the same questions of alt.slack:
I don't get it. If you guys call
yourself a religion, how can you foster commitment among members if you
encourage them "not to join." I've read the Book of the SubGenius (it was
handed to me by someone who bought it, read it, but still doesn't get it) and
it says nothing about gathering together, how to form solidarity among members
etc.
A faith needs to provide
stability and security among its members, not spread discord, strife, and
confusion.
How will you get
anything done as a group if you never gather together...join together?
It seems to me Bob has a message
but everyone on this newsgroup is afraid to ask what it is because "if you
have to ask, you'll never know.
I don't know, maybe I'm 'pink.' But it seems that this
group won't last long if it doesn't plan regular meetings and establish bonds
among members.
Responses varied from the quote at the beginning of this
section to a friendly response that contained examples of commitment among
members, ideals to live up to, and explanations of beliefs that are private
testimonies to the worldview of the members. Most responses from the
Discordians and SubGenii were flames. Most from the Cthulhuvians were
niceties. The flames came predominantly from the regular card players (of the
Old West Saloon metaphor) and most kind responses from lurkers or 'irregularly
posting' regulars.
The Web
is full of incongruities. Because so many different individuals and
organizations participate in its construction, the Web does not lend itself to
many forms of statistics. Even counting web sites to establish a preponderance
of a group is fruitless. Instead, what should be noted is that the more sites
a religious group has, the more computer-oriented members it has. Web sites
are difficult to start for a number of reasons, including knowledge of the
computer and simple programming, time drain, access to a server, and the
monetary investment of a computer, if one is not available for web site
creation at work or school.
What the following numbers describe is that there is a
correlation between people interested in computers and people interested in
the three irreligions. I conducted a search on two different engines to tally
the number of web sites for a number of groups, including the three studied in
this paper. The other four groups were the Unification Church, the Hare
Krishnas, the Presbyterian Church, and the Catholic Church. The two search
engines were HotBot and Metacrawler. Metacrawler is actually nine search
engines in one. So the total number of search engine was in actuality ten.
This means little, however, as webmasters can list their web site many times
with the same engine, thus getting more 'hits' from users. For example,
"Hacker Jargon," a helpful site established by the Graz University of
Technology, establishes a link to a search engine for every term listed. So it
is apparent that numbers are always skewed. But this tells us even more about
the people involved in the Church of the Sub Genius, the cults of Cthulhu, and
the Discordians. They know what they're doing on the computer, and are getting
people to their sites through technological manipulation.
Here are the numbers of web
sites mentioning or dedicated to religious groups:
The
first number after the irreligions corresponds to the number of hits on
Metacrawler, the second on HotBot.
Church of the SubGenius: 65 2440
Discordianism: 61 1237
Cthulhu:
80 10173
Unification Church: 53 440
Hare Krishnas: 64 686
Presbyterian Church: 93 32063
Catholic Church: 94 91052
It is easy to see that one of the largest religious
faiths in the world, the Catholic Church, has only 29 more sites than the
Church of the SubGenius, 33 more than the Discordians, and 14 more than the
Cthulhu people. Proportionately, results are skewed towards the irreligions.
Considering the number of people in the religion compared to the tiny number
of members in the three irreligions, it is apparent that the irreligions are
created by and recruit heavily from, individuals interested in computers. In
fact, the ability to list web sites more than others is an ability of hacking.
Metacrawler is a more
reliable source of information; HotBot, put together by the publishers of
Wired magazine, cites every web site that remotely mentions the term asked
for. HotBot's numbers echo Metacrawler's, albeit on a massive scale. For
instance, it is telling that the search term "Cthulhu" turned up 10,173 times,
while "Hare Krishnas" only turned up 686 times. These three audience cults are
obviously cyber-oriented. Members use the web sites to recruit, broadcast, and
display their beliefs and interests for their respective irreligion. They
proselytize not through ordinary means, but through complete proliferation on
the Web.
Newsgroups provide
similar results. alt.discordia has gone from 18 messages posted by 15
different people (from November 1, 1995 to November 8, 1995) to 416 people
posting 1349 messages on the same dates in 1996. These messages are a random
assortment of ideas and beliefs focusing predominately on Eris and the ideals
of discord.
alt.horror.cthulhu has gone from 4 messages posted by 3
different people (from November 1, 1995 to November 8, 1995) to 96 people
posting 206 messages on the same dates in 1996. Most messages revolve around
H.P. Lovecraft's writings and trivia about the Great Beast, although some talk
of cult activity abounds irregularly.
alt.slack has gone from 88 message posted by 53 different
people (from November 1, 1995 to November 8, 1995) to 323 people posting 1274
messages on the same dates in 1996. The Church of the SubGenius has even
branched out, using under.net and another.net to conduct Sunday night
"devivals." These impromptu, chaotic hours of message postings function as a
cyber-service free-for-all. Members spend an hour hashing and rehashing
beliefs each week with the "elect." Individuals who are new to the Church are
not encouraged to participate until they are more fully immersed in the group.
The individuals participating in the "devivals" mean business.
Protests of SubGenii
being "non-joiners" notwithstanding, there are regular meetings every weekend
on irc.another.net. Not to mention the horrifying touring schedule Jesus is
planning for Stang in '97. What more do you want?
-Michael Townsend on alt.slack (26 Oct., 1996)
Discordianism, the Church of the
SubGenius and the Cults of Cthulhu were chosen because they exhibit
characteristics of Stark and Bainbridge's audience cult and cult movement
typologies. The groups are diverse and unorganized (and choose to be so),
provide ultimate meaning and general compensators for members and have
conflictual relations with the surrounding environment. Although they accept
no formal dogma, they nevertheless accept what the Discordians have called
catma (Pieri, 1996), which is only different from dogma in that it prods
members to dedicate themselves to the unfamiliar and novel. This blending of
characteristics makes it necessary to typify another kind of religious
organization: that of the neophilic irreligion.
The irreligions began as audience cults and would have
stayed as such (in terms of Stark and Bainbridge's model) if not for the rise
of post-modern thinking, a welcoming of the irrational in society that has
taken place for the last thirty years and advancement in technology.
Each of these groups began with
an individual publishing for and speaking to audiences. Lovecraft wrote pulp
Gothic fiction like the story "Call of Cthulhu." Thornley and Hill published
the Principia Discordia. Stang published The Book of the SubGenius and
Revelation X (among many others related to slack). However, due to the chaotic
mood and atmosphere that has prevailed and grown in numerous circles in
society, groups formed and rallied around their writings. The literature took
on life in the activity of individuals who espoused the beliefs within the
pages.
As post-modernity grew
in scholarly circles, artistic cabals, and marketing businesses, theses
localized groups spread, albeit slowly and in esoteric, hidden ways. The
neophiles in the groups wanted none of the organizational tactics found in
other cults at the time. They wanted neither leaders nor institutionalized
beliefs. The growing trend toward communication as a commodity and the
Information Age in general validated their belief structures and legitimated
their manners of organization.
The Third Wave, or the Information Age heralded the
globalization of the beliefs of these localized, tiny groups. The World Wide
Web, the Internet, and other kinds of technology allowed for organization
outside the classical paradigms (many of which are touted by Stark and
Bainbridge). The cybervillage allowed neophiles to define their own reality in
the terms they felt comfortable with. In fact, because they were the
individuals designing it, they controlled the power to construct it the way
they wanted.
Before the advent of the World Wide Web, the three
irreligion gathered in localized, regional clusters. These local groups banded
together under the auspices of the literature published by the 'inventors' of
the groups. Groups stayed together only as long as new ideas emerged from
discourse and rituals. Once members had learned enough about others in the
groups, they moved on to other groups centered on the same beliefs and
literature or practiced the irreligion on a solitary basis.
In this respect they can be
considered audience cults. Stark and Bainbridge state that audience cults are
"the most diffuse and least organized kind" (1985:209) of cult and "there are
virtually no aspects of formal organization to these activities, and
membership remains at most a consumer activity" (1985:340) This is true of
much cultic activity, especially individuals and groups interested in the
occult and New Age beliefs and principles. Bainbridges work in the early
seventies at a spacecraft convention demonstrate the previous characteristics.
Stark and Bainbridge write that "[p]ersons with a cult doctrine to offer rely
on ads, publicity, and direct mail to assemble an audience to hear its
lectures" (1985:25).
This
scale (based on level of organization) is meaningless when irreligions are
included; they resist organization in the sense Stark and Bainbridge have
elevated as a measure of success. These groups find stagnation and obstacles
in religions that function superbly on Stark and Bainbridge's scale.
Thus the free-flowing,
ever-changing structures of the organizations must be seen as an asset to the
irreligions that focus on chaos and discord. They desire these qualities.
There are definitive groups that have persevered through the years in each
group. These local organizations have continually redefined their reality and
continually reconstructed the worlds in which they live.
Discordian cabals are an example
of this. The Eris Society, the Apple Corps., the Cartographer's Conspiracy
Cabal and others like them are all examples of local Discordian groups that
have stuck it out and still produce discord among members, just to, as one
member put it, "keep things hot" (Burton: 1996).
The Church of the Subgenius has a central Foundation
based in Dallas, Texas that collects dues ($30 for a lifetime membership),
administers pamphlets and other paraphernalia, and deals with legal hassles
and the like. Although the Dallas Foundation can be seen as a headquarters, it
is not viewed as such by members. Ivan Stang and his base are but another
facet of the widespread and disperse SubGenii.
The cults of Cthulhu also have local branches which base
their activities on the creations of Lovecraft. Most people involved in
Cthulhu play the roleplaying game, 'Call of Cthulhu,' published by Chaosium,
Inc. There are others, however, who view Cthulhu as a living (though asleep
and dreaming) God. The Esoteric Order of Dagon, the Yaddith Lodge, the Chaos
Cult of Cthulhu CCCXXXIII, the Miskatonick Society and various Satanic groups
believe in and worship the Great Beast.
The quality all three irreligions have in common is that
they are composed of neophiles. Neophiles are 'non- joiners,' individuals who
abhor conventional means or organization. This is exactly the reason why they
band together. Their organizational structure is based on not organizing.
The responses to my
inquiries concerning commitment and solidarity on the newsgroups were, as
stated above, wide in range. Coupled with the literature, they revealed
individuals who feel strongly attached to groups in which attachment is
disparaged.
I will begin with
conversations held at alt.slack concerning commitment and solidarity among the
Subgenii. The SubGenius Pamphlet #2 published at SubSite, the "unofficial home
page" of the Church, states,
Technically, this
organization cannot exist -- because it is composed of people who are not
joiners. The only thing most SubGenii have in common is that they're ALL
DIFFERENT -- and they have NOTHING in common with the
C.O.N.S.P.I.R.A.C.Y.!!(Cliques of Normals Secretly Planning Insidious Rituals
Aimed At Controlling You) The SubGenius, because it does not "fit in," is
actually better than anyone else (Stang, 1996)!
[emphasis in original document]
Upon being asked about
commitment, Dennis McClain wrote on alt.slack:
You don't join the
SubGenii. You either realize you were one all along, or you don't, weren't and
aren't gonna be. That small portion that gives the appearance of being
organized exists only to attract the new members so that they can sign up, and
according to Church dictates, immediately schism.
We are not about communions. We are about epiphanies (27
Oct. 1996).
Tarla
responded to my post (detailed above in the research section) on alt.slack:
If you can get them to send in $30, they're committed. We
don't really encourage solidarity among the members. This is why the Internet
is such a boon for the church. We can be members, and yet not have to deal
with each other on a personal basis. Aside from the difficulties of just
getting groups of SubGenii together, there's always the fact that most of us
don't agree with each other on just about everything (27 Oct. 1996).
In response to my statement, "A
faith needs to provide stability and security among its members, not spread
discord, strife, and confusion," Tarla wrote:
That's what YOU say.
"Bob" says differently. How can you be secure when you know you're leaving the
planet in just a couple of years? How do you promote stability when stability
is exactly what you're fighting AGAINST (27 Oct. 1996)?
Asked, "How will you get
anything done as a group if you never gather together...join together?" Tarla
responded:
We got you to consider us a "group" and half of us are
barely speaking to the other half. It's magic (27 Oct. 1996).
She responded to my comment, "It
seems that this group won't last long if it doesn't plan regular meetings and
establish bonds among members."
Well you'd be wrong
then, Rick. We have no regular meetings, we bond and then break and then bond
again. What keeps us here is mutual insanity and inertia. I'll have been here
two years in Jan. and I'm relatively new to the church (27 Oct.
1996).
George, another
poster on alt.slack responded to my comments about bonds between members with
classic, ironic, tongue-in-cheek glibness:
Establish bonds, huh?
Commitment, huh? Establish bonds? Hey.. now we're talking. I've heard curtain
trimming cord recommended (was it Friday who recommended it?), because it
doesn't have the wire center most other ropes do.
I've heard that bungee is fun too, since it allows a
limited range of movement. Hooke's Law will never be the same again.
look for the codicil. they
always fuck you with that...(28 Oct. 1996)
George finally got around to resonding seriously to my
message concerning commitment later in his posting:
Answer: we don't try to foster commitment. But you're
confusing religion with group-thinking. The two need not go hand-in-hand. A
person's spiritual beliefs can and SHOULD be completely personal, and not
subject to alteration simply because someone else said so. The Church of the
SubGenius is one of the first religions (palatable to western tastes) that
emphasizes what YOU believe, not what is written in the official texts.
There's a reason why the main
book is called "The Book of the SubGenius" and not "The Book of 'Bob'":
because this religion is ultimately about YOU, not "Bob" (28 Oct.
1996).
I then told
George, "I've read the Book of the SubGenius (it was handed to me by someone
who bought it, read it, but still doesn't get it) and it says nothing about
gathering together, how to form solidarity among members etc." He
responded,
Sure it does! The chapter on Clenches and schisms. And
that's the key here: schisming is a primary concept, because the point is to
follow yourself and no one else. Not even Stang, except to buy some crap from
him.
No, the irony is not
lost on us: following instructions that say to not follow instructions. The
key out of the paradox is to take the "not follow instructions" part to heart:
then if you choose to schism, or whatever you care to do, it's because YOU
want to and you're ignoring everyone elses's dictates. THAT'S what they're
trying to teach (28 Oct. 1996).
I then offered the idea that "[a] faith needs to provide
stability and security among its members, not spread discord, strife, and
confusion." He responded:
Untrue. Many faiths
shoot for this as a goal, but that doesn't mean that all faiths have to follow
this model. Consider that most faiths make their followers feel "stable" and
"secure" by telling them that God loves them above all others and they're
going to get a big chocolate chip cookie when they get to heaven. All of
which, of course, is a lie, but at least it makes the followers feel very
happy ... makes 'em feel almost bovine, in fact. (Sorry, Jools.) But a
*realistic* religion needs to admit that there's a hell of a lot of
uncertainty in any metaphysical ramblings, and this is one of the few
religions that concedes as much. Maybe it doesn't provide us with fuzzy
answers, but by damn at least we know that we can't stop looking (28 Oct.
1996)!
I asked, "How
will you get anything done as a group if you never gather together...join
together?" He answered,
A good question. Follow-up question: what do,
say, Christian groups ever get done? Not a whole lot of good, if you ask me
(28 Oct. 1996).
Finally, I wrote, "I don't know, maybe I'm 'pink.' But it
seems that this group won't last long if it doesn't plan regular meetings and
establish bonds among members." George wrote,
We've GOT bonds. We
use the Internet to interact. So we don't operate like a well- oiled machine
... I think that's a *good* thing.
And no, you're not "Pink" for asking. But you're looking
at this like it's a normal religion and finding it doesn't operate that way.
That's good. That's part of the deprogramming lesson: to look at things in new
ways. Now apply that to everything else and you've got it (28 Oct.
1996).
Rev. "Big"
Steve A (stands for "Aha!") Confessional Box Clagscraper Of The Order Of The
Small And Petulant Domestic Rodent responded to my 'commitment' posting on
alt.slack as well. He wrote,
If you "get it", that
commitment is there. It might be a commitment to avoid commitments, but it's
there nonetheless.
One thing
that's nice about the CoSG is that, unlike other religions, where you're being
carried along on some sort of tide, this one positively DISCOURAGES you from
getting too far in - your friend is an example: he won't find people
proselytising and trying to explain it all to him, because if they have to do
that, there's no point.
Although there are the "Bobbies", who think that Slack
and the CoSG is "cool", but they're not about to hand over their stash of
'frop or get nailed to a cross for it, who'll prolly try to sell you the whole
thing. They don't "get it".
It's like "getting it" is the holy sacrament of the
Church (27 Oct. 1996).
In response to my comment, "A faith needs to provide
stability and security among its members, not spread discord, strife, and
confusion," "Big" Steve wrote,
Does it? Where is that
written?
"How will you
get anything done as a group if you never gather together...join together?"
George wrote,
I think I spot a little bit of Protestant Work Ethic
creeping in there. Why do we need to "get anything done"? Not all religions
have to be about Eternal Salvation, etc. In fact, I happen to think that all
that stuff is basically nothing to do with religion, but is rolled into the
belief system to control us, like a sort of promise of a return on services
rendered. IMO, it sucks. And the CoSG gives you 3x your money back if you
don't get eternal salvation (28 Oct. 1996).
I wrote, "It seems to me Bob has a message but everyone
on this newsgroup is afraid to ask what it is because 'if you have to ask,
you'll never know.'" Steve responded,
No-one can tell you
"Bob"'s message, because it means nothing in mere words. You have the message
inside your head, and all that the CoSG can possibly do, with the united aid
of Slack and 'frop, is to open your third ear so you can hear the message (27
Oct. 1996).
I don't
know, maybe I'm 'pink.' But it seems that this group won't last long if it
doesn't plan regular meetings and establish bonds among members.
No, you're not necessarily "pink". But you have obviously
bought into the pink conspiracy big- time, if you're thinking in terms of
"doing things" and planning regular meetings.
Lemme tell you my take on this. When I was a kid, I could
sing. Not badly, either. This resulted in my ending up in a church choir, sort
of by default. Even back then, I never bought into this Christianity schtick
much, especially when I realized that a lot of these so-called Christian
values being rammed down my throat appeared only to apply to Other People
(i.e., those not doing the ramming). That, and a paedophile singing teacher at
the church, just about confirmed it for me, and I bailed out.
Ever since, I've quietly denied
the Christian faith, even though I know that there is some core of my being
that wants to believe in something. As I've grown older, and seen and
experienced things happening, piece after piece of what I always though was
"religion" or "faith" has dropped away.
The final pieces disintegrated just about when I hit
Usenet, probably because of the illness of my nearly-Mrs. I had to contemplate
mortality as a very real thing, and had to ask myself a lot of stuff about who
really was "up there". You could say I became a skeptic, but that's putting it
a bit strongly. What I *did* realise was that there is nobody "up
there"...they're "in here". That works for me, and the CoSG & "Bob" are
nice hooks to hang that hat on.
The point is, I don't WANT a religion that tells me what
to do, or makes me pray on Sundays. I'll "pray" when I damn well want to, and
I'll do it to whichever god is giving out the most coupons that day. And if
the world's going to end soon, I want to be on the winning side. That's the
side where the preachermen aren't fucking whores on my donations, paying
politicians, forming lobby groups, or buying automatic weapons under the
table.
My side.
But thanks for asking,
anyway.
Oh, and incidentally,
I'm a Freemason, which involved me stating that I believe in a Supreme Being.
I joined before all this change in my religious outlook, which did make me
wonder a bit. Now, when I'm sitting in a meeting listening to the various
references to 'I'm Upstairs, I just see it all in terms of "Bob" and the Cogs,
and it all hangs together very nicely.
In fact, the Bible works quite nicely like that, too.
Especially the Old Testament (27 Oct. 1996).
An anonymous SubGenius posted:
Oh, lord. This guy wants COHERENT EXPLANATIONS OF THE
CULT? OK, since I'm the first one here, and posting actually seems to be
working again, I'll have to break the bad news to you. There ARE no coherent
explanations of the cult. We're all monkeys with keyboards.
The Discordians have similar
sentiments. The Eris Society, founded by best-selling financial writer Doug
Casey, originated in Aspen, Colorado in 1981. Their web page declares,
The Eris Society is a unique organization, if it can be
called an organization at all, since it has no formal structure. It is not
incorporated, it is not a partnership, is owned by no one in particular. We
pay no dues and have no bylaws or voting. Rather, it belongs to those who are
invited to its annual meeting (Jewet, 16 Nov. 1996).
I began a thread of messages
called 'commitment' among the Discordians on alt.discordia and the following
materiel is from the posts that followed. I posed the question, "I don't get
it. If you guys call yourselves a religion, how can you foster commitment
among members if you like chaos so much? A faith is built upon solidarity and
stability, not discord and strife. If you guys call yourself a religion?"
What bearing does what we call ourselves have to do with
the fostering of commitment? Nothing. We could call ourselves Penguins and it
would have no bearing. We are a religion, but the big mistake you are making
is to try and ascertain exactly what we are within the narrow minded confines
of your aneristic categorizations. The "if you call yourselves a religion has
no bearing. Now "how can you foster commitment if you like chaos so much..."
is a valid question. The answer is simple. Chaos and order are really the same
thing there is order in chaos and chaos in order. Therefore there is chaos in
commitment and commitment in chaos. One does NOT preclude the other (Phillips,
21 Oct. 1996).
I
wrote, "A faith needs to go further than this in order to survive. There needs
to be a place of worship, a set service time and no tongue-in-cheek irony
behind all that you believe."
You are trying to
judge the chaos by your presuppositions i.e.: concepts of order. There needs
to be a place of worship, or a pen to put the sheep in, only if you need to
retain some control (order) over the sheep. This is the aneristic way.
Discordians don't need order. As for getting together with no tongue in cheek
irony behind what you believe, this is only valid within the narrow minded
aneristic system as well. It is out firm believe that it is a mistake to hold
firm beliefs. So how in Eris' name could we get together to formulate out what
we believe is a mistake in the first place? Which in itself is a firm belief,
and so on and so on till we arrive at the belly button lint of a Fnord's navel
(21 Oct. 1996).
Another responded,
Hey, it's worked for
30 years. As long as there is chaos we'll be around (and I don't see the world
running out of chaos anytime soon). Our place of worship is our pineal gland,
you should visit yours - it's probably a bit dusty.
I then asked my question about
non-joiners: "The book was interesting, but it seems that the Discordians
won't last long if they keep telling people 'not to join' or 'don't' believe
anything. Episkopos Galactus I (Keeper of the Sacred Bacon) answered:
Nope Erisians have been around for over 3000 years. For
that matter All religions are really Discordian in nature but just don't
realize it. Even if we vanished tomorrow, there would still be Discoridians,
but they would call themselves something else and simply not realize it. Nuf
said. HAIL! ERIS! ALL HAIL! DISCORDIA! (25 Oct. 1996)
The Cthulhu cults are less
stringently against formal organization when it comes to forming role-playing
game circles. Because they are often involved in role playing games, they must
provide structure for group activities, or risk losing members. The following
thread between a newbie and Marc on alt.horror.cthulhu demonstrates the
camaraderie apparent among Cthulhu aficionados:
Newbie:
I'm just starting out at this. My friends and I are new
to this game, and I need some help coming up with ideas for a 1990's campaign.
I was wondering if someone could sort of hold-my- hand through the early
stages. Any help would be appreciated.
Marc:
I've run CoC off and on
for years, but haven't for a long time. My next campaign has the PCs as Police
Officers in the '90s. One thing I feel is necessary in a modern campaign is to
use the era, like the majority of the 1920s adventures seem to.
Newbie:
Do scenarios involving the evils of man, not just those
of the Mythos. The evils of post- modern technology, of rampant immorality, of
the callous inhumanity of the average man. Perhaps your players are among the
few that would even CARE if the Stars Came Right----what if it doesn't MATTER
if the cults of the Old Ones remained secret? Do they even need to?
Marc:
The forces of the Mythos might use designer drugs to
accomplish their goals, instead of magicks.
Perhaps the Tcho-Tcho claimed to be an "oppressed
minority" hostile to the Communist Chinese---does the US give aid and
"advisors" to Tcho-Tcho "rebels" in northern China and/or southern
former-USSR, and how much does the US know about them? More then they're
willing to admit, I would guess.
Just a few ideas for anyone to use...be creative, update
1920s scenarios if you have to; IMO, modern Cthulhu is more true to the
originals; Lovecraft wrote about the era he lived in, not the 19th Century;
why should 1990s Keepers and /or writers be bound to the 20s?
However, groups that worship
Cthulhu as an entity follow the same chaotic patterns as the Discordians and
the Church of the SubGenius. The Chaos Cult of Cthulhu 33 is one group of the
Cthulhu irreligion that focuses on Cthulhu as an actual living entity (or
claims to do so in literature). They write, in the Manifesto,
Standing between heaven and hearth, and by divine
command, the Crimson Council of Cthulhu of the CCCXXXIII has decided to appear
before the eyes of humanity as a Cult...The Chaos Cult of Cthulhu has risen
(Tenebrous, 1996).
The
Cambridge University Worshippers of Cthulhu Society have a web page that
details the beliefs of the group and, with tongue-in-cheek, write,
Welcome to the home of CUWoCS, the society for the
discerning individual (the individual who would rather not end as lunch when
the Big C Wakes Up, that is). Here you will find out all you wanted to know
about CUWoCS, lots that you didn't want to know about CUWoCS, and several
things about CUWoCS that will ensure that you will provide psychologists with
research material for a long, long time. Enjoy (Damerall, 1996).
Like the CUWoCS (and Discordian
and SubGenii groups), the Campus Crusade for Cthulhu organizes around the
chaotic. In this instance, the group organizes so as to "keep his belly full."
The full introductory quote:
Hi welcome to the
Campus Crusade for Cthulhu homepage. This page and soon to be organization is
to be devoted to the God Cthulhu. The great one needs groups like us to keep
his belly full. The choice then becomes pretty easy ither follow or become
food (Giekes, 1996).
The newsgroups for these groups also provide a bulletin
board for individuals seeking out information about physical meetings and
times. The following thread is from alt.slack and concerns an upcoming
devival. Eddy Nix posts information about the happening:
Temple of the Absurd announces it's March 97 west coast
Tour of "Wilhelm Reich in Hell", a punk rock opera by Robert Anton
Wilson....
We are currently
looking for a few more brave souls to drop their meaningless lives and join
the circus. Our tour will begin in Tempe Arizona around March 1, and end in
Vancouver Mid April.
We need
to set up a few more shows in cities along the west coast during this time, so
if anyone out there has info, or would like to host or help us in any way,
please respond.
If you would
like to join the circus, and tour with us, well...respond too (Nix, 26 Oct.
1996).
David Lynch
responded:
And I *STILL* don't have a ride to the Devival next
Saturday, dammit. Any help would be appreciated; it's just a couple miles from
Hilliar, Ohio (Lynch, 26 Oct. 1996).
I got involved and asked David Lynch what went on at a
Subgenius Devival, and he responded,
I got my priorities
straight, hell yeah. My priorities right now:
1. SEX.
2. Stimulating spiritual
and intellectual conversation.
3. Tape dubbing.
4. School work/boring crap.
5.
Wasting time.
Sometimes
alt.slack crosses from category 2 to category 5 (Lynch, 27 Oct.
1996).
Another
SubGenius, His Most Feathered Eminence, The Ur- Beatle responded,
See, that's your problem, Dave, alt.slack needs to cross
over to category 1 (Ur-Beatle, 27, Oct. 1996).
Rev. Pee Kitty, of the order
Malkavian-Dobbsian responded to my question also,
Sex, lots of it (Pee
Kitty, 27 Oct. 1996).
The cults of Cthulhu hold many different conventions,
most of whic surround the gaming world. Groups like CUWoCS and CCCXXXIII show
up, and most participants get involved in the religiosity of the affairs. The
Third Annual Cthulhu Mythos NecroniCON held in Providence, Rhode Island
features a sermon and prayer for Cthulhu at the Marriott Hotel every year:
CTHULHU PRAYER BREAKFAST: Though many expected
Yog-Sothoth to smite us for this blasphemy, the NecronomiCon membership has
now been spared twice. Once again, the Cthulhu Prayer Breakfast will offer a
loathsome "sermon" by the Rev. Robert M. Price, as well as other surprises.
Will those attending be spared from Yog- Sothoth's wrath once again? There's
only one way to find out . . . and, of course, NecronomiCon's Guest of Honor
Brian Lumley and Special Guest Dirk Mosig will also be in attendance, whether
they want to be or not (Necronomicon Press, 1996).
The groups, as Stark and
Bainbridge point out (1985: 340), do thrive on the consumer activity of
members. The Church of the SubGenius publishes, along with short stories and
anthologies, two 'gospels:' The Book of the SubGenius and Revelation X. They
also distribute thousands of brochures, stickers, bumper stickers, and other
products. The cults of Cthulhu see H.P. Lovecraft's and other writers' works
printed every year. There is also a role-playing game centered on Cthulhu as
the nemesis. The Discordians fare less well, seeing that the Principia
Discordia (which is not copyrighted) has been printed countless times. These
products are not different from the countless Bibles, tapes, prayer books,
rosary beads, statues, candles, rugs, and the like that are sold by more
organized and established churches. The irreligions, like other religions
state that they are "not about money," but "about ideas."
One Cthulhu adoree searches for
a statue of Cthulhu on alt.horror.cthulhu:
I've seen in a
magazine a huge statue of Cthulhu. Does anyone knows how to find one (and
order it).
And is
answered:
There's an excellent one just released from Bowen
Designs, created by Stephen Hickman. If you've seen the paperback of Robert E.
Howard's Mythos stories, Hickman painted the cover art showing a Cthulhu
statue. The sculpted version is the same one, and it looks terrific. It sells
for $100, and is limited to 1,000 copies.
It is my firm belief that the mistake your mistake is
trying to understand. How can one understand the Goddess of confusion? Then
again it is our firm belief that it is a mistake to hold firm beliefs. If you
believe it. Hail Eris!
-Episkopos Galactus I, Keeper of the sacred Backbacon (23
Sep. 1996).
Order falls, fear
reigns...It is just how the wheel turns...Chaos is the only thing real...but
then is it? Couldn't categorized chaos be order? misplaced order chaos?
Real/unreal....live with it or die....what does it matter...What are we but
marionettes dancing in the masquerade...forever lost. Chaos is empty. People
place their fears in the gap. And they see disorder where there is nothing.
- Timothy Sutter, on
alt.discordia with a response from alt.slack (21 Aug. 1996)
Although Stark and Bainbridge
write that audience cults provide no ultimate meaning for members (1985: 28),
neophilic irreligions in fact, do. The authors state that
"Conversations...revealed these people are not the stuff of which social
movements can be made. They accept everything, more or less, and in effect
accept nothing. They are interested in the general area of the eccentric and
the mystical" (1985: 28). It is true that these traits make the "attendees at
spacecraft conventions" whom Bainbridge studied open-minded to the degree that
it "makes it impossible for them to develop a strong commitment to any
complete system of thought" (1985: 28). Irreligions, however, find strength in
ultimate meaning systems that encourage open-mindedness within the belief
system they have constructed. Neophiles accept the new or unfamiliar, but
apply it in ways that comply with deities, beliefs and tenets of the faiths
they belong to.
In an
alt.discordia newsgroup message, J. Calvin (Bimp) Smith writes, "Order is not
implicitly moral -- or immoral. Neither is chaos. The above statements are
true. The above statements are false. The above statements are meaningless"
(Smith, 26 Aug. 1996). Discordians are involved in amphorous beliefs and seem
uncommitted to a "complete system of thought." Yet they are: the complete
system of chaos, embodied in social action, in Eris, and in all forms of
communication.
Quoting the
Principia Discordia, James Burton posted another message concerning Eris and
her importance in the chaotic belief structure of the Discordians,
This was on the fifth night, and when they slept that
night each had a vivid dream of a splendid woman whose eyes were as soft as a
feather and as deep as eternity itself...she spoke in a warm and gentle voice:
'I have come to tell you that you are free. Many ages ago, My consciousness
left man, that he might develop himself. I return to find this development
approaching completion, but hindered by fear and by misunderstanding. You have
built yourselves psychic suits of armor, and clad in them, your vision is
restricted...your spirit broiled by the sun. I am chaos. I am the substance
from which your artists and scientists build rhythms...I am alive and I tell
you that you are free (Burton, 23 Aug. 1996 from Malaclypse the Younger, 1994,
23).
The ultimate
meaning in Discordianism is chaos, embodied in the form of a woman "whose body
was the spectacular dance of atoms and universes" (1994, 23). Stark and
Bainbridge do not perceive that acceptance of "everything" can be an ultimate
meaning system. The Discordians have achieved it by wrapping their view of the
universe as chaotic in the robes of Eris and the pages of humorous literature.
Members must be committed to this meaning system in order to understand and
participate in the irreligion.
The Church of the SubGenius establishes a rich mythology
centered on "Bob" Dobbs to disrupt current reality tunnels and imbue members
with the ultimate meaning system of slack. To the Subgenii, the world is
trapped in perceptions of the world that are outdated and constricting. The
Church promises to "operate on your brain" (Stang, 1996) to break these narrow
reality tunnels. It invites readers, in many web sites,
You seek out the "different," for its own sake, and that
odd trait of yours has led you to peruse this site. Or has it? What if some
catalyst stronger than your enigmatic programming, more powerful than the
combined forces of the spirit-world, compelled you to read (Stang,
1984)?
The Church
prides itself on an ultimate meaning system that rests on the idea that
"everything is true," and that the only way out of "the brittle, false,
stability of the artificial structure imposed on society by invisible
authorities" (Stang, 1996) is to accept the mysterious quality of slack. Slack
is the antithesis of the conventions of modern religious structures. It prods
readers to "slack off," disrupt work environments (or not work at all), and
challenge everything. Slack is a supernatural force embodied in "Bob" that
gives members a meaning system. This system is centered on the "different" and
members are committed to it.
The cults of Cthulhu also provide ultimate meaning for
their members: that of an unpredictable universe full of insanity-wreaking
monsters. Agency, which plays a large part of the other two irreligions, has
no role in the cults of Cthulhu. Members favor the utter fear that will
accompany the annihilation when Cthulhu and his minions rise again from the
waves. So unpredictability and chaos, accompanied by insanity is the price
humans pay for thinking they have complete control of their environment.
Stark and Bainbridge define
compensators as "...the belief that a reward will be obtained in the distant
future or in some other context which cannot be immediately verified" (1985:
6). Each group possesses general compensators different form the "diffuse
hope" Stark and Bainbridge offer as the only compensator evident in most
audience cults.
Compensators
for the three irreligions are grounded in supernatural assumptions: members
exchange the perceived reward of order in society in return for compensators
that promise everlasting chaos and discord in the social environment and on
earth. This is a strong (not "diffuse") hope for "a reward of immense value."
Each group perceives the reward in terms of an apocalyptic "end" where social
order and control is either nullified or demolished by supernatural agents.
Discordians willingly exchange
ordered lifestyles (by actively disrupting social norms and conventions) for
the greater compensator of chaos. Members look at chaos as a reward that will
come when the tapestry of social order (as it is defined by social groups in
positions of power) is rent and disordered creativity pushes individuals and
groups to make choices based entirely on novel triviality. Two members write
in the alt.discordia newsgroup,
Kerim: I wonder,
often, of our existence as order-making machines.
Rainer: Most people need this type of pigeon- holing to
get through life, it seems. Such as shame. I know I often have to work hard to
get away from it.
Discordians believe that by 'releasing' order from their
lives, they will unleash chaos and disorder, prompting new thoughts which can
lead to innovation, or, simply, different thought processes not yet
experienced. The Discordians strive to keep the hodge-podge rotating so that
order (or disorder) does not dominate the social realm. They do not believe
that disorder should dominate, only that order has been in a position of power
for too long. Their compensator of creative chaos is achieved by sacrificing
'normal ties' to the social environment to which they belong.
The Church of the SubGenius
provides a number of compensators for members. First, the SubGenii established
July 5, 1998 as X Day, or the day that flying saucers from a Mother Ship will
come and whisk away all those who have joined the Church. Although
tongue-in-cheek, the events of X Day are an important aspect of the Church's
activities. They provide a reason to gather (X Day drills) socially.
None of the members of the cults
of Cthulhu know when he will awake from his slumber to spread chaos and horror
across the Earth. But they find power in the knowledge that it is going to
happen. His appearance in the Pacific Ocean will signal the end of the ordered
existence that humanity has foolishly tried to preserve for so long. Although
they understand that they will be destroyed along with unsuspecting citizens
of human nations, members believe they will perish with the secret knowledge
that Lovecraft wove into his fiction. This knowledge is far more important to
members than their lives. This compensator is brutal, but members of the cults
of Cthulhu talk of it openly and use the story as a weapon against the
"uninitiated." Those who don't know about Cthulhu and his imminent return will
suffer a far more insidious death than those who possessed knowledge
beforehand.