Year of Faith

Wiener by Roger Jones

In the very first week of the very first religion we are studying as part of Year of Faith, I transgressed.

That’s right, I ate a hot dog. On a Thursday. With the bun.

All things considered, it’s not exactly a big deal. Discordianism is pretty fast and loose compared to Ordthodox Judaism. I could always take the cheap way out and claim my pineal gland ordered me to. Hm, that’s not a bad idea…

What surprised me was the ease with which it happened. I wasn’t even aware that I had done something against Discordianism until the following day. How common is this? Does this happen to everyone? Where can I find statistics on this sort of thing? Would these religious statisticians have a building in the shape of a cross with numbers drawn on the sides? Probably not.

However, this did get me thinking about the nature of religious transgressions in general. All religions have some form of tenets or rules that should be obeyed. When the average believer disobeys one of these rules, is it more often a conscious decision or unnoticed until afterwards? Does it make a difference in how you feel about it or in the punishments you receive?

I’d already violated my strictures once without noticing, so for a change of pace I made a conscious decision to violate it again. I ate more hot dog buns. Well, not just the buns but you get the idea.

I discovered that I felt less guilty when I made the conscious decision to violate this rule. Go figure! I have yet to notice any kind of negative effects or punishment received for either of these transgressions. This leads me to the conclusion that there are no consequences for anything you do, ever. And on that note, I have to go purchase an axe.

Just as a heads up for people, Michael is currently away in Britain. His posts will be rare or nonexistent until he returns next week. In the meantime, Sara and I shall entertain you and continue our exploration of this strange faith.

Plans are in the works for a new Discordian holiday somehow involving a feast near the end of the month. In addition, I have been approached to perform an UnWedding commemorating a breakup between two of my friends. I’ll hopefully have more details to post on these events in a day or two.

take ticket with you by Alison G

Elevator Racing is an extraordinarily simple game that requires zero skill and plenty of chance. Otherwise it’s boring.

Rule Number One - You are only permitted to play Elevator Racing when two or more elevators arrive at your floor by chance and there is more than one person in your party. You are permitted to attempt to race strangers that are also taking the elevator, with or without their knowledge.

Rule Number Two - You are not allowed to hit any buttons other than the destination floor. All other manner of behaviours are permitted. This includes jumping up and down in the elevator or cutting the cable to speed the descent.

Rule Number Three - The winner is whoever reaches the destination floor first. This is usually the person whose elevator stopped the least on the way down. Ties are permitted, as is gloating. Gloating is actually encouraged; especially if the other person had no idea you were racing. Sun Tzu once said, “Only a child is unprepared at all times”. His followers didn’t pick up on it though, as they didn’t speak English.

Any questions?

Eris & the Philosophers
by Andrew Ferguson

As a Discordian it is my duty to try to get other people to see the value of disorder. If I can make someone pause in their daily routine, to make them stop and smell the flowers, breathe deeply, or go on a three day bender so bad it could wear down Mick Jager, I have fulfilled my beliefs.

OK, maybe not the bender part.

But I regress- the other night my Discordian comrade Andrew and my lovely self spread the word of Eris across Commercial Drive. I wrote a short story of approximately 23 sentences involving our goddess Eris talking sense into some crotchety philosophers. The story was split up into 23 pages, numbered in sequential order, and then posted in complete disorder down Commercial Drive. Though the ink held it’s own against the elements, some of our posters were covered by a rival poster campaign advertising some thrash/heavy/chicken metal band. This means if anyone wanted to piece together the story, they are completely fnord.

If you would like a refund, please consult your pineal gland.

The story will be posted here in it’s entirety at the end of the month. Keep an eye out though, as I have a lot of red paper left over, and all sorts of minds yet to blow.

As Sara pointed out we completely forgot about Mungday, our only holy day during Discordianism. However during said day (the fifth) we partook of hot dogs from Eris’ servants at Pacific Center Mall and went to see Children of Men, so we did celebrate, in a way…*ahem*

So far Discordianism has been impressing on me the importance of living without fear, fear that arises from taking your life too seriously or from being shy or nervous. Discordianism in a way is about taking you life in your hands, looking it over, polishing it (maybe with a bit of turtle wax or something), and asking yourself:

What would I do if I was free from the restraints I put on myself?

It is more than just creating chaos and being random, Eris is a bit more Taoist than that.

More on this later…

Sara here, bringing you my first thoughts on my new religion—or is that fifth thoughts?

First off, I am a poor disciple, an errant goat if you will, for chaos is not my natural state. Not that anyone who has seen my house will believe me. It is true though: I am a born organizer, a filer, a person who likes cubbyholes and categories and rules, with or without fairy dust. The fact that I do not impose orderliness on my surroundings is mere chance, or possibly laziness. None shall ever know for sure.

Fourth off, I have a full time job, dealing with the public. I am not yet willing to discover how much discord my superiors will tolerate, because next month I will no longer be Discordian but I will still need to pay rent. I have mostly confined myself to dancing in front of the windows and learning to whistle loudly and reciting foreign phrases and not putting the store back in order, quite.

Yesterday, being Friday, I partook of a hot dog, and it was joyous. Yesterday, being Mungday, I neglected to do anything of import, and forgot, in fact, that it was even Mungday. Except that “forgot” implies that I ever knew in the first place. The Principia does not specify celebratory rituals, so perhaps I shall belatedly throw confetti or cook spaghetti or sing pirate songs, but only on Tuesdays.

I finally got around to reading all of the Principia Discordia today, except for the parts which I didn’t. I have hopes to be more faithful in the future, and to do so in a non-linear geometry.

At least I don’t believe anything I read.