Cult of the Void
Based on the idea that human connection is impossible and we all have an emptiness within ourselves that we fruitlessly try to fill with organized religion and structured social groups, this cult will consist mostly of guys I find on Reddit. They’ll call it the “anti-cult cult,” and we’ll all wear black t-shirts with “Embrace the Void” in white print. Rituals include sitting quietly and reflecting on whether you can ever really know another person, going to frat parties and telling everyone that they’re all truly alone, and scoffing at romantic comedies. This cult will be a major bummer. I will regret starting it but be too afraid to end it.
Cult of the Abyss
Some reactionary member of the Void Cult will break off and form an oppositional sect based on the idea that human connection is possible if you relinquish yourself to the abyss of primordial oneness. Rituals include eating pie with your bare hands, allowing big ocean waves to hit you full on, getting into fistfights with other members, screaming in the middle of the woods until you feel one with the Douglas Firs, crying until you laugh, laughing until you cry, etc. I wouldn’t start this cult (see: reactionary member) but I would sentence all of its followers to Void Hell and they in turn would sentence me to the Dark Abyss, which is actually the same as the Light Abyss. The Abyss lies beyond dichotomies.
Dog Cult
Dogs are basically land angels. No matter who you are or where you are, if a dog sees you from across the street then it will strain against its leash in order to come to you. Pure of heart in a way we will never know, a dog would never be rude to a waiter or avoid eye contact with a homeless person. If a dog were in a situation where it knew it could potentially get its feelings hurt, it wouldn’t preemptively strike with a performative personal attack. A dog wouldn’t sever a tenuous connection with a blunt instrument; they aren’t afraid of emotional vulnerability, they’re afraid of loud thunder and ghosts. Now, you might say that dogs are dumb. The official response of the House of Dogs comes in three parts: A) First of all, who do you think you are? B) You’re dumb for not thinking about people beyond how they directly affect you, dumbo. C) Who’s happier, you or this Newfoundland who lives in our House and eats the choicest cuts of beef? Meetings are every day: members lie on the ground and listen to folk music while petting the dogs until they feel okay. The key to success for this House is that the members will never feel okay, not fully, but angel dogs are there to be petted and that’s okay.
Redemption Cult
Pretty straightforward, apologize to everyone you’ve ever hurt, but while wearing a fun cloak. It’s not fair that Alcoholics Anonymous is the only nationally recognized group that gets to spiritually cleanse its members through atonement. Does AA have its members arrange twigs into patterns while mentally composing emails to their estranged friend from high school? No, they only provide enormous support to hundreds of thousands of people. The main ritual is reminding each other not to say, “I owe you an apology,” because transactional relationships are for those clowns in the Void Cult. Other rituals include cradling your head in your hands, softly saying to yourself “Oh man, that was so uncool of me,” and accepting how uncool that was. The best part of this cult, beyond the adrenaline rush of putting yourself in a vulnerable position through apology, is how every member gets a cool stick n’ poke tattoo of an anthropomorphized version of their deepest flaw.
Old Lady Cult
The aim of this group would be to live like an 80-something year old woman whose husband died eleven years ago. There aren’t many rituals for this one; it’s more about viewing life through a melancholy lens and eating a lot of pudding. When you’re at a concert and see two teenagers making out with each other in the middle of the crowd, sigh and murmur to yourself, “Oh, they’re so young. Let them have their fun.” Same goes for looking at teens in dumb outfits (“Someday you’ll find what clothes make you feel good, you darling girl,”) teens who go to raves (“Why not! It’s no skin off my nose,”) and post-teens who never got over their poorly thought out post-structuralist phase and subsequently joined the Void Cult (“Oh honey, why don’t you put down the computer tablet and visit with my Yorkshire Terrier? His name is Benjamin and he already thinks you’re top notch.”)
Charlotte Raskovich is the Humor Editor for The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at c.raskovich@cavalierdaily.com.
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