AN INTRODUCTION TO THE CORPS OF MARINE TRAINED CYBERNETIC MESSIAHNISTS!
(Or, How Two Men and One Woman Worked Day and Night to
Create a Religion for the Computer Generation)
(Revised Edition)
Mike Knowles
Dedicated to the Queen of Serenity, Michele Jones and Scott “Elmer Gantry” Piquette. Two of my first disciples and Mustard Cutters of the First Order!
Copyright © 2011
Mike Knowles
Copyright 2011 by Mike Knowles
Smashwords Edition
In Memoriam
The authors would like to thank Ms Elizabeth Tailor. Her knowledge of shorthand proved invaluable in transcribing these historic meetings. The premature demise that took her away from this vale of tears shocked us both. (Although some might argue that leaving a vale of tears was a wise move). The only consolation for those left behind is that she helped give birth to a brave new religion.
Our delightful stenographer, Liz Tailor, is photographed on Ffrith beach wearing one of her less outrageous hats.
PREFACE
For Creationism you need a god and for evolution you need a computer
The Cybernetic Messiah.
Milton P. Smith and Mike Knowles at one of their meetings in the Ffrith Hotel in Prestatyn. Mike Knowles is on the right.
Methodology
This book contains transcripts of meetings held between the two authors in a popular hostelry in North Wales. Here, aided by some excellent cuisine and refreshing lager, Milton and I thrashed out the basic formula for Cybernetic Messiahnism. We felt that this was a momentous event. One that needed recording for posterity. After all, how many new religions are created every year? So they were meticulously written down by our indefatigable stenographer, the late and lamented Ms Elizabeth Tailor. A friend of the gay couple Milton was working for, Ms Tailor added a touch of glamour to the proceedings. No one will ever forget her stunning hats – colourful testaments to one of the top milliners in Llandudno.
Like Moses, Messiah Has Some Tablets For You!
Fans of the film, The Matrix, will recall that the hero, Neo, was given the choice of taking the red pill or the blue one. The red pill would lift the veil and show him that what seemed to be real was just an illusion. But, if he chose to bottle out, he could take the blue pill. Whereupon he would wake up in bed and blissfully forget everything that had happened. Cybernetic Messiahnism gives you a similar choice. Except that you probably won’t wake up in bed if you decide not to take up our offer. Consider this book to be the Messiah’s red pill. And he’s giving out the same message. Except it’s not quite like the film. The good news is you won’t wake up naked inside a high tech pod to discover that you, along with the entire human race, are hooked up to a giant battery charger. Although some of you may hanker fantasies about that. And the bad news is you won’t have the powers of Keanu Reeves.
So, the choice is yours. If you decide to take the blue pill then ignore this book and choose another one. Likewise, if you’re looking for a traditional religion to belong to then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed. You may even end up bitterly disappointed. So why take that chance? Cybernetic Messiahnism is a religion that likes to buck the trend. For a start, it’s based on science so we’ve had to try and remain objective. We may not have succeeded all the time, but we’ve tried to do our best. Unlike those other religions. For example, can you imagine the Pope playing Devil’s Advocate with the Catholic religion and casting doubt on its teachings? I can. And the thought of him doing it in Rome’s St. Paul’s Square is a rather intriguing one. Albeit a rather unlikely one. Still, one lives in hope.
Then there’s the fact that traditional religions are based on faith and belief. I regret to tell you that Cybernetic Messiahnism’s foundations are far more flimsy. Cybernetic Messiahnism is based on mere possibility. The possibility that some of what I’m telling you could be true. And don’t ask me how much of it will turn out to be true because, to be perfectly honest, we just don’t know. How’s that for honesty? This enables us to occupy the moral high ground over those other religions out there. Especially those fundamentalists. The ones who cling, regardless of what common sense tells them, onto the belief that every word in the Bible is literally true. Given their level of gullibility I certainly wouldn’t go to them for any advice. Then there’s choice. As a Messiahnist you can decide which bits you agree with. You can even disagree with everything and become a heretic and spend the rest of your life living in a cave. Or is that a hermit? So, as well as a hit and miss, Cybernetic Messiahnism is also a pick and mix religion. Oh, and at times it’s also rather wishy-washy.
‘CYBERNETIC MESSIAHNISM! IT’S YOUR WISHY-WASHY, HIT & MISS, AND PICK AND MIX RELIGION!’
How’s that for a catchy slogan? It really rolls off the tongue.
I suppose the nearest religion to Cybernetic Messiahnism would be Scientology. But we must tread very carefully here. The late L. Ron Hubbard’s followers are extremely paranoid and brook no criticism of their religion, so I won’t compare it to ours. We’ll let you decide which one is better. And risk litigation. You need have no fear with our religion. Cybernetic Messiahnism works on the ‘sticks and stones’ principle. You can say what you like about Cybernetic Messiahnism. Just make sure you’re not within earshot of Milton. His law firm are called Grievous, Bodily & harm.
We’re assuming if you’ve gotten this far then you’re still interested. Well just don’t get too excited. Cybernetic Messiahnism merely presents you with a number of hypothetical propositions. It then leaves it up to you to pick the ones you think are closest to the truth. Wishy-Washy, Hit & Miss and Pick & Mix! Don’t you just love that slogan? Of course you do!
To sum up then, we’re counting on the fact that scientific knowledge will continue to increase. And we sincerely hope so otherwise there’ll be no more fantastic technological gadgets to play around with. Can you imagine that? I can’t. As a result we hope that eventually some of our theories will be confirmed. On the other hand it may turn out that reality is far weirder than anyone thought. Including us! And that would be even better
Science is the Daddy and Don’t You Forget It!
Cybernetic Messiahnism is not just for the computer generation. This religion is aimed squarely at atheists and agnostics. Some of you may be asking yourselves: why would atheists and agnostics even want a religion? Surely that’s a contradiction in terms? Surely that’s the very thing they’re trying to get away from. I asked myself the very same question. And I came up with a pretty good answer. Why should religion have all the fun when it comes to formulating weird, Harry Potter type theories about the universe and everything? Especially since there are branches of science and philosophy that can come up with theories that are even weirder sounding than the ones created by J. K. Rowling! No, it’s not impossible. Just read on and you’ll find out. These are theories based, not on some non-existent deity, but on the strongest and most rigorously tested of all the sciences. Theories seriously considered by some leading physicists. Science has hidden its brilliant light under a bushel for far too long. Now it’s time to show religion who really is the Daddy!
On the other hand, Cybernetic Messiahnism seeks to embrace people from other religions as well. And to anyone who may be tempted to change their theological allegiances, I have this simple message: they can rest assured that switching over to us can be a pretty painless. All they have to do is stop believing in a laid back deity who only talks to a chosen few and turns a blind eye to suffering. A deity who, his adherents claim, works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform. Ways so mysterious they often contradict the laws of logic and reasoning. A deity who asks you to replace common sense with blind faith. Once you’ve done that you can embrace Cybernetic Messiahnism and we’ll welcome you with open arms.
Cybernetic Messiahnism Meets the Big Green Killing Machine!
It was a chance meeting between a writer of comics and a former gunnery sergeant in the United States Marine Corps that ignited the spark that became Cybernetic Messiahnism. A fan of the film The Matrix, I’d read a book that had changed my views on what we call reality. The book, written by two eminent physicists, suggested that the next great leap in human knowledge could come from outside science. It was called The Quantum Enigma: Physics Encounters Consciousness. In it the authors suggested that in quantum physics scientific knowledge may be reaching its limits. And they wondered if non-scientists might provide the next breakthrough. Perhaps somewhat unwisely, I took that as a direct challenge. My biggest problem is that science is based on mathematics and mathematics is a subject that’s totally alien to me. This is a serious handicap to start with. So don’t expect any arcane equations. In fact, don’t expect any equations at all! Some science books promise you they’re so simple anyone can understand them. Yet they still stick in some numerical data. I begin to wonder if they’re obsessed with numbers. But only a scientist can answer that one.
Looking for Answers
So what about the Gunny? Who and what is he? Well, I’ll try and answer that. After being discharged from the Marine Corps Milton began looking for a job. He’d been trained as a combat journalist and a combat engineer but, neither occupation appealed to him. Instead, he decided to try his hand as a stand up comedian. There weren’t many former gunnery sergeant comedians and the public seemed to like his abrasive style. Pretty soon Milton was doing regular appearances at comedy clubs in New York. But life in the Big Apple didn’t appeal to him. Growing ever more dissatisfied with America, Milton decided to move to England. He’d dabbled briefly with religion, but marines are by nature pragmatics creatures and he found little solace in the Bible. But he was to find it in another religion after one of those chance meetings we like to describe as serendipity.
The Man in the Iron Lung!
Milton photographed at a New York club.
Whilst on holiday in North Wales, I heard about a former USMC gunnery sergeant living in a dormer bungalow owned by two gays. Having dabbled in gonzo journalism, I sniffed a good story. And things looked even better when I arrived to find the Gunny inside a makeshift iron lung. I asked him how he’d got here and the Gunny told me that it all began seven months ago. He’d been appearing at a small London comedy club when he ran into Welsh solicitor called Gordon Bennett. Gordon, who was in London to attend a meeting at the Law Society, overheard Milton arguing with the club owner. The argument was about some money Milton was owed and the Gunny was threatening to get a lawyer. Sensing he might be able to help, Gordon intervened and the owner paid Milton the money. As they were having a drink at the bar, Milton told Bennett that his savings had almost run out and he wasn’t earning much as a comedian. Whilst his acerbic style went down well in New York, English audiences seemed to resent being treated like recruits at bootcamp. So he was looking for a job.
Gordon told him that he might have some work for him. He explained that his partner, Guy, had suffered a homophobic assault a few days before in which his wallet had been stolen. Fearing further attacks now they knew where Guy lived, they’d gone to the police who said they’d keep an eye on the property. This failed to reassure them. Gordon said he’d like to offer Milton the job of minder. He could live in the spare bedroom in their bungalow.
The job would also involve acting as a bailiff. As a solicitor Gordon was often involved in debt collecting. In fact, some of his own clients were often tardy in paying their fees. Hiring bailiffs to do the dirty work was expensive and he’d been thinking of starting his own debt collection service. Milton would be perfect for the job. The Gunny had swallowed his pride and agreed to work for him. It wasn’t that he disliked gays. The truth was he disliked everyone, regardless of race, religion, or sexual preferences. It was just that he considered the job of minder/bailiff to be beneath him. After all, he was a decorated war hero.
On the other hand, the two gays were more than delighted to have him. Especially after the Gunny had laid a couple of troublemakers flat and caused a third to flee for his life. He even managed to retrieve Guy’s wallet. Not only that, the wallet contained double the amount that had been in it when it was stolen! Milton explained that the crook had been filled with so much remorse he’d decided to compensate Guy for the loss. When Gordon asked how Milton had managed it, Milton told him that the crook’s sudden conversion had taken place whilst Milton was driving him to the local hospital Accident & Emergency department.
But then disaster struck. Having seen a number of his fellow marines struck down by Gulf War Syndrome, the Gunny had been worried for years about his health. In fact, he’d become a hypochondriac. Now, fearing his health was failing fast, the Gunny had used his engineering skills to construct an iron lung using an old boiler and other equipment purchased from a scrap yard. Given the fact that he had no experience in constructing medical equipment, it was a remarkable achievement. Milton modestly explained that a marine can do anything.
It was like the biblical tale of Jesus and Lazarus. During our conversation I mentioned my plan to create a new religion called Cybernetic Messiahnism. And, when the nature of this religion was explained to Milton, the effect was dramatic. Roaring like a wild beast, the Gunny shot out of his iron lung like a shell from cannon. It was a sight to behold. Given the Gunny’s inimical style of imparting information, I quickly decided that I’d formulate the theories and let the Gunny take care of training my disciples. It was the Gunny’s idea to create the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists who, like the Jesuit Priests, would act as the vanguard of Cybernetic Messiahnism. They’d be missionaries working in the darkest regions of ignorance and superstition, spreading the message of my brand of scientific religion.
Warning!
Before purchasing this book it’s only fair to point out that Cybernetic Messiahnism contains what is euphemistically described as ‘colourful language.’ In this case, the colour in question being blue. A particularly dark shade of blue. Of course, I could defend this by pointing out that the Bible also contains obscene words. But, to be fair, not as many as this! We would describe it as gratuitous obscenity. Others would accuse me of using naughty words simply to achieve notoriety. Aware of the ammunition we might be giving our critics, I mentioned this to Milton. It was just after I’d decided to use the discussions from our meetings as the basis for a book introducing Cybernetic Messiahnism to the masses. At which point Guy had suggested that Liz, a trained stenographer turned milliner, would be willing to help us. Given that there’d be a female present I told Milton that perhaps he should dispense with scatology or, at least, tone it down. He responded by telling me to pis* off.
What should I have done? Theologians will rightfully point out that disciples don’t normally tell their messiahs to pis* off. I could have remonstrated with him. I could have ordered him to clean up his act. On the other hand, given that we’re talking about a combat hardened US Marine, I did the only thing I could. Like Jesus I turned the other cheek.
Eventually we reached a compromise. Milton could curse all he liked as long as he spelled the offending words phonetically. Which was a forking relief, I can tell you!
Cybernetic Messiahnism in a Nutshell
Let’s be absolutely clear about this. Cybernetic Messiahnism is meant to be a religion for the computer generation. A 21st Century religion, rather than a first century one. Whilst some may applaud me for this I must be honest and confess that my motives weren’t entirely altruistic. I mean there was a bit of altruism there. A teeny-weeny bit. A microscopic speck. No, the main reason was selfish. I’d written science fiction and the thought that I might become another Ron L. Hubbard was tempting. I you recall, he was the one who dreamed up a money spinner called Scientology. And I could imagine those celebrities who’d signed up for Hubbard’s brand of religion diverting their attention, and their money, to Cybernetic Messiahnism. If so I can assure them that our coffers are large and will be extremely difficult to fill.
Cybernetic Messiahnism was inspired by a combination of quantum physics, the Oxford philosopher Nick Bostrom’s Simulation Hypothesis, the enigmatic physics of dreams, and computer games. Namely, games like Grand Theft Auto IV and Saints Row 2. Which gave me a legitimate excuse to waste several hours, (258 in one case), playing them. Although I must confess I had difficulty persuading my long suffering wife that it was merely research for my next book.
No Genesis. No snake, no juicy red apple, no Adam and Eve. Instead, Cybernetic Messiahnism evolved from an article I wrote for the writer and anthropologist Graham Hancock’s website. Entitled, A Simple Explanation, the article attempted to explain what happened before the Big Bang by proposing a theory of the utmost simplicity. Not being a scientist, I knew that any explanation I came up with would have to be utterly simplistic. You may laugh at my naivety, but a recent article in the New Scientist came up with the same theory! I’m now waiting for my invitation to have tea with Stephen Hawking where we can discuss the mysteries of the cosmos. (And I’m not talking about the stuff that grows in the garden). Just as long as he keeps mathematics out of it.
And it doesn’t end there. Another article I read stated that half the universe is missing. And that doesn’t include the dark matter! Losing a bunch of keys is one thing. But half the universe? That’s ‘mad scientist’ territory. That’s something the Star War’s evil emperor would do. They’ve certainly kept it dark, if you’ll excuse the pun. No headlines screaming: MASS PANIC AS HALF THE UNIVERSE IS FOUND MISSING! What if it was the half America was in? Or, better still, Europe? That would solve the EU problem.
Then there was the prestigious Scientific American which suggested that scientists have been sweeping major problems with the Big Bang theory under the carpet. I suppose we can take comfort from the fact that they haven’t lost it. But you never know. As new theories are born and others discarded, Cybernetic Messiahnism will be adjusted accordingly. This is merely the beginning of our religion. I hope Cybernetic Messiahnism will continue to evolve as new knowledge and theories come to light. In short, as science evolves so does Cybernetic Messiahnism. We go hand in hand, but we’re not gay. The only difference being that science itself isn’t managed by a writer with an overactive imagination aided by a foul mouthed former marine. Which is perhaps a pity. Depending on your point of view, that is.
I became even more intrigued when I discovered that the vacuum of space isn’t completely empty. You’d think a vacuum was. But science is no respecter of definitions. Instead I discovered that space contains particles that appear and disappear out of nowhere. No one knows where they come from or where they go. Some say the police operate the same way when dealing with criminals. Of course, when I say I discovered that the vacuum of space wasn’t empty I didn’t mean I actually went up and found out. My bus pass won’t cut any ice with NASA. Computer geeks will tell you that the action of these particles reminds them of machine code. ‘1’ and ‘0.’ Something and nothing. On and off. And machine code is the basic language that runs all computers. This is what persuaded me to construct a religion based, not on a deity, but on a form of computer. An ultimate form of computer. In other words, Cybernetic Messiahnism suggests we’re all characters in the ultimate role playing game. But, if you dislike like that idea, then you must tell yourself that analogies prove nothing. Then you’ll feel better.
But, before anything else, let’s start with the Gunny’s conversion to Cybernetic Messiahnism...
THE BOOK OF THE GUNNY
By Milton P. Smith, Disciple Instructor
Figure 4: The gay seaside couple who employed Milton as a bodyguard.
My name is Milton P. Smith and I was a gunnery sergeant in the United States Marine Corps. The Big Green Killing Machine. Between killing the enemies of Democracy, McDonald’s and the American way of life, I also rotated to the Marine Corps Recruit Depot where I served as a drill instructor. Now I am still a DI. But this time I am a Disciple Instructor. My job is to teach our novices the principals of Cybernetic Messiahnism. As a Drill Instructor in the United States Marine Corps I was paid to peace people off. That has not changed one bit. I will teach my novices to do the same. It will be their job to peace off those misguided individuals who we Messiahnists classify as Religious Nuts. Those Religious Nuts will not like it. They will call on their god to strike us down.
Tough titty. Because their god will not listen. He will not listen because He knows that we Messiahnists can kick his ass anytime we want. My heart used to belong to Jesus, but my ass belonged to the United States Marine Corps. Now my heart belongs to Cybernetic Messiahnism and my ass belongs to the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists.
But it was not always so. Before I became a Messiahnist...before I saw the Light, I was incarcerated in the psychiatric wing of the Bethesda Naval Hospital in Annapolis. Why was I in a rubber room? Because the shrinks claimed I had some kind of combat related stress syndrome fighting the Taliban in Afghanistan. Hey! That rhymes. Maybe I should take up rap! I would definitely be a meaner rapper than those candyassed self-styled gangsters. So they were gonna Section 8 me. That’s a load of crap! Marines are trained for combat. Marines can take any kind of sheet Osama bin Laden throws at them. Or used to throw at them until a bunch of squids calling themselves Navy Seals popped a cap in his brown ass.
There it is. But it wasn’t the Taliban who forked me up. No, the reason I was in the funny farm was because some faggot Chaplain Charley got drunk and tried to proposition me. Said he wanted to suck the cork of a Gunny. Now I was not averse to a blowjob. I was a Marine. But I am not Gay. So I remonstrated with the motherforker using my hands and my feet. And, although he said he had forgiven me, the Navy didn’t. The Navy don’t like non-coms striking officers.
At first I felt guilty about hitting a priest. For a start it was just too forking easy. There’s no fun hitting some peckerhead who won’t fight back. But I did it anyway. What the fork was I supposed to do? Drop my pants and spread my cheeks? In the rubber room I had time to reflect on religion. And I became very cynical. I realised that religions are by their very nature sectarian. They cause wars. I figure Christianity never stopped a war, but it caused quite a few.
Maybe those priests figured that’s what Christ meant when he said, ‘Suffer the children to come unto me.’ That Christ allowed them to use their special status as a priest to satisfy their carnal lust. We were a little worried about our youngest daughter, Monica. She was so precocious. Those short skirts she liked to wear. And the way she emulated those female singers on MTV. With those suggestive movements. Well, we asked Father Cohen for advice and he’s giving her some extra religious instruction. The mother doesn’t know it yet, but that extra religious instruction involves going to the priest’s bedroom and demonstrating some of that seductive choreography. Boy, she’s only eight but she could tempt a saint. And the priest thanks God for the Permissive Society. You like dancing, huh? Have you ever seen those pole dancers? Let me show you on this video. Later, when they’re on the bed, he gets ready to give her God’s blessing. Relax, my child,’ I’m just going to insert the Lord’s holy staff into your precious little orifice. It may hurt, but remember that Christ Himself suffered on the Cross for our sins.
Hey! I bet you think hell is fire and brimstone, right? Some redassed dude with horns, goat’s feet, and a pitchfork? Negative! Hell is virtual reality. The Devil's name is Bill Gates. So what does this virtual reality hell look like? Well, it looks like a crummy old nursing home. The place stinks of sheet, peace, and boiled cabbage. The heating never forking works and there are these big shiny corkroaches crawling all over everything. This nursing home is filled with the worst kinds of residents you can imagine. These old farts are really gross. For a start, they suffer with halitosis. Their forking breath smells like they got gangrene of the throat. On top of this, they are all in the final stages of leprosy and suffer with chronic dysentery...so you get that familiar milky white rice stool diarrhoea. Finally, they have this projectile vomiting. And you don't want to know what they bring up. Of course, this is a virtual reality hell...so these are not real people. They're just holographs. Like those in Star Trek. They just look, feel, sound and smell like real.
Now, most of the corksuckers who get sent to hell will be dictators like Hitler and Stalin, murderers, child killers, politicians, lawyers, the spoilt rich...the usual suspects. And when they get there they will be issued with a standard care workers uniform. Then they'll be assigned to look after these residents, 24 hours a day, for eternity. And being sentimental, I'd like to think that these people will enjoy the challenge. After years of being pampered, they'll finally get the chance to look after those less fortunate than themselves. And the people who really suffered from leprosy and dysentery...they'll be cured and living it up in heaven. Payback is a motherforker. But that’s only when it works like the Bible says it should work. But it often doesn’t. Often the saints end up getting screwed.
The problem was I needed something to believe in. Before I had always believed in the Corps...I still do. Once a marine always a marine. But civilians are not marines. And I was now a civilian. And these candyasses had a whole set of different values. Forget honour and fidelity. Forget helping your buddies. In civland you only think of yourself. In civland it’s the Law of the Jungle. Screw or get screwed. There it is. So what the fork was I going to believe in now I was a civilian? Wall Street was running the country and those motherforkers were only interested in making a fast buck. And then losing it. Then there was the problem of obesity. Jesus H. Christ! Why would anyone want to be that forking fat? You never saw a fat marine. A fat marine would have been a walking target. Sheet! They might as well paint a forking bullseye on them! Walking down the goddamn street it sometimes looked like I was at a convention for Sumo wrestlers. Eventually I decided to move to England. They too were getting fat, but at least it was a smaller country so there were fewer of them.
And that’s when I discovered Cybernetic Messiahnism...
PROPOSALS FOR AN INDUCTION INTO THE CORPS OF MARINE TRAINED CYBERNETIC MESSIAHNISTS!
This was our historic first meeting. During it Milton and I discussed the formation of the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists and agreed that the organization was to be modelled on the Jesuit Priests. My wife, however, wasn’t too impressed when I mentioned this to her. Knowing you,’ she said, ‘it would probably end up looking like it was modelled on the Keystone Cops.’ Oh yea of little faith!
Milton’s job in Cybernetic Messiahnism would be to train the novices and I was sure that his experience as a drill instructor would toughen them up. Given the fanaticism of what Milton called the Religious Nuts, selling Cybernetic Messiahnism clearly required a highly trained bunch of disciples. I also suggested that our bible could do with a dose of humour to set it apart from the others. All in all, the meeting went reasonably well with only a few distractions.
The sight of an Englishman and an American talking at a table would not have been especially unusual. Being a seaside resort, the locals would have been used to tourists. However, the fact that the conversations were sometimes animated and heated, coupled by the fact that a local female, noted for her flamboyant hats, was taking shorthand notes must, I think, have elicited some comments. And, after a while, word spread that we were constructing a new religion. Some wags took to shouting, ‘Here come the God Squad!’ when we entered. But a word from Milton soon shut them up. In fact, they turned out to be tourists like me. The locals had learned not to tangle with Milton.
The transcripts, as well as setting out the framework for Cybernetic Messiahnism, also contain some autobiographical material. One day I decided to be clever and jokingly mentioned to the family that Hitler took a similar approach at Landsberg Prison when he sowed the seeds of his political ambitions. My eldest son responded by saying that was hardly surprising seeing I was born in Germany. (There’s a standing joke that I could be Hitler’s son and it always gets a laugh. Except in Synagogues, but I never go near them). I would have ignored such a feeble joke, but the Lure of the Pedant took over. So I pointed out that Hitler was an Austrian. And those people can never be trusted. On top of which this is a considerably milder version of Mein Kampf.
The meetings took place at the Ffrith Hotel in Prestatyn, North Wales, between the 1st April 2011 and the 17th July 2011.
MESSIAH: Are there any jokes in the Bible?
MILTON: I never heard of any. Have you, Liz?
LIZ: My parents are strict Methodists. They read the Bible all the time and I never heard them laugh.
MESSIAH: Yes, but that’s not to say there aren’t. Maybe they just haven’t got a sense of humour. I’ve only read bits of it so there could be some jokes hidden in there. Just to lighten the mood.
MILTON: Negative. I read somewhere that the early bibles were illuminated and handwritten in Latin by monks living in monasteries. Think about it. These guys were wearing hairshirts and eating raw vegetables. Just imagine being hunched over a desk all day with a quill and some ink, scratching away at sheets of parchment. Hoping you don’t make a forking spelling mistake. Because in those days there were no spell checkers and no rubbers. I just wonder how many sheets of parchment those poor corksuckers wasted.
MESSIAH: There were rubbers. In winter they used to rub each other to keep warm.
MILTON: Was that supposed to be a joke?
LIZ: LOL. That sounds disgusting!
MESSIAH: That depends. The image of monks rubbing each other may be appealing to those two gays Milton lives with. Anyway, a rubber is no good with ink. You need a correction fluid, like Tipp-ex.
MILTON: Rubber...Tipp-ex... who the fork gives a sheet? I was making a point.
MESSIAH: I give a sheet. If you recall I told you when we first met that I was driven by the Lure of the Pedant.
LIZ: Hold it, you two! I’m telling you right now I’m not getting involved in any of that!
MESSIAH: Sit down, Liz. I’m talking pedant, not paedophile.
LIZ: LOL. I knew that. I was just kidding.
MILTON: Hey! Can we get back to those monks?
MESSIAH: You seem to have a thing for them.
MILTON: That’s affirmative. I want to rub them. I want to rub them out with an M60. They may have been Religious nuts, but they were grunts. They were hard. These corksuckers spent the night sleeping on a wooden board in a damp room that makes a cell in Alcatraz look like the penthouse suite at the Hilton. Then, rising at five in the morning to pray to some God who’s nice and warm in heaven surrounded by angels. Trust me. Those are not the prime conditions for creating gags.
MESSIAH: You’ve got a point there. That’s probably why the Bible is so serious. Far too serious for my tastes. I mention this because I think we ought to have some humour in our bible. Although it’s being marketed as a religion for the computer generation, even geeks possess a sense of humour. At least I’m assuming they do.
MILTON: No problem. We’ll just put some gags in. It’s your religion. You can put whatever you forking like in it.
MESSIAH: Clean gags...well, clea-nish. Dirty jokes will tend to distract people from the message we’re trying to put across.
MILTON: We could even put in some mild pornographic photos. Jokes and sex are big selling points.
MESSIAH: I know they are. But we’re trying to promote Cybernetic Messiahnism, not masturbation.
LIZ: LOL.
MESSIAH: So how are you going to open the Induction Section?
MILTON: Just see how this sounds. Pretend you’re one of my maggots.
MESSIAH: Okay. Off you go.
MILTON: Attention on deck!
The Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists are looking for a few good people. But looking at you maggots I get a feeling that the Corps may be disappointed. No problem! I enjoy a challenge. Now some of you may object to being called maggots. You may think that this term is used in a derogatory fashion. And you’d be right. It is meant to be derogatory. But there is nothing personal in this. It is simply a psychological device used in military training. One of the tools used to turn a raw recruit into a finely honed weapon of war. You maggots will also be weapons of war. Well honed weapons. And the war you are fighting will be against ignorance and superstition.
But that is in the future. As novices in the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists you will first have to earn my respect. It won’t be easy. I am not one of those bleeding heart liberals who thinks everyone should be treated as an equal. Nature did not create a world where everything is equal. This world only exists in the imagination of those individuals who have no experience of the real world. Instead theses peckerheads live in a never-never land created by their candyassed philosophical, theological and sociological beliefs. These beliefs are meant for nursery rhymes and romantic fiction. They are not meant for the real world we Messiahnists inhabit. These are the people who would have kissed Hitler’s ass before he fed them into the gas chamber. We Messiahnists do not kiss ass. We kick ass. Once you have become a Marine Trained Messiahnists you will no longer be maggots and I will salute you. Until then you are just another invertebrate.
MESSIAH: It sounds impressive. In fact it’s that impressive there are people around us standing to attention.
LIZ: There are?
MESSIAH: I was joking. Go on, Milton.
MILTON: I am Milton P. Smith, your Disciple Instructor. My function is to discover if you maggots have what it takes to become Disciples in my Beloved Corps. This is not Saint Candyass’s College for the Ordination of Corksucking Chaplains. This is not the Convent of the Holy forking Dilldo. In order to serve as a Disciple in the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists you must be properly motivated. And I will motivate you. Let me make one thing clear, maggots. Contrary to what anyone may have told you this is not...I repeat, not a debating society or a knitting circle. When I say sheet you maggots will squat and strain. As novices you will only speak when I tell you to speak. And when you speak your first and last words will be ‘sir.’ Do you maggots understand? And the novices will respond with...
‘SIR, AFFIRMATIVE, SIR!’ How’s that?
MESSIAH: Fantastic! I imagine our readers will regard this as a somewhat unusual and ingenious way of delivering religious instruction. Thus further separating Cybernetic Messiahnism from the common herd. However, not everyone will like it. Especially those with a low self-esteem. It’ll just reinforce the negative thoughts they have about themselves. It’ll lower their self-worth as those psychologists like to say. Perhaps we should advise those candyasses, as you call them, not to adopt Cybernetic Messiahnism as their religion.
MILTON: Affirmative. We can quote some Health and Safety rules. And, if they do, we accept no responsibility for any psychological damage it may cause. We need to avoid litigation. Litigation is a motherforker.
MESSIAH: Yes, denigrating the little darlings could result in whiplash of the mind! Or a fractured ego. To use the technical terms. On the other hand, there’s no physical violence involved. Just a lot of shouting. At worst those novices of ours will experience a severe amount of ear bashing.
MILTON: You want me to hit their ears?
MESSIAH: It’s an expression. It means shouting.
MILTON: Pity. But you can bet your Lilly white ass they’ll hear me shout. Those motherforkers won’t know what hit them. It will separate those who can hack it from those who can’t. And those candyasses will be running back home so their moms can wipe the tears from their eyes.
MESSIAH: Please keep your voice down. The landlord’s liable to call the police.
MILTON: Relax, Mister Peckerhead. This is Wales. The cops will be too busy chasing what you Limeys call, ‘sheep shaggers.’ Although if those perpetrators are wearing wellington boots they’re not gonna be running very fast.
LIZ: LOL.
MESSIAH: Ssshhh! Your stereotyping of the Welsh won’t go down too well, either. You’re liable to get us banned.
MILTON: Okay, keep your hair on. I will tell those maggots that there’s some good news and some bad news. And the good news is I’m not a total control freak. The bad news is right now they are nothing. Right now they have not evolved from monkeys. In fact, they haven’t even reached that far. Right now they have just crawled out of the sea. That is how far down those maggots are on my evolutionary scale.
MESSIAH: They’ve just crawled out of the sea?
MILTON: Affirmative. They have just hauled their sorry asses out of the briny ocean. And the water is still running down their scaly sides. Right now they’re merely slimy amphibians.
MESSIAH: Your mental image of our novices is more suited to a herpetologist than a messiah.
MILTON: Herpetologist? What kind of Mister Smarty Pants sheet is that?
MESSIAH: A herpetologist is someone who studies reptiles. So these are your teaching techniques, are they? Although I’m all for it, I’m just worried that some of our novices may not have the intestinal fortitude to survive your slings and arrows.
MILTON: Are you chickening out? Goddamn it! Then chicken out, you piece of sheet! You said you wanted me to act like a DI. Make your forking mind up, Mister Peckerhead. You want to mollycoddle those maggots hire someone else. I don’t mollycoddle.
MESSIAH: Calm down. I’m not chickening out. You’re just the sort of person Cybernetic Messiahnism needs. Ever since I saw Lee Ermey playing Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, the Drill Instructor in Kubrick’s movie, Full Metal Jacket, I’ve been fascinated by the character. So you were a perfect choice to train my disciples.
MILTON: Yeah, Ermey was gung ho. He was hard. And that’s just what I’m going to be. Those novices need to know that life will not be easy because I do not give slack. Slack is for Religious Nuts and other pogues. Slack is for candyasses. There is no place for Religious Nuts and candyasses in the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists. If they’re one of these pieces of sheet then I will find them. And when I have found them I will grab their scrawny little necks and ream them a new asshole with a rusty corkscrew. They will either square away or ship out.
MESSIAH: Gosh! If I was them I’d square away. What about you, Liz?
LIZ: LOL. A new asshole with a rusty screw? Tell me more.
MILTON: Maybe later. And you can bet your ass those maggots are gonna square themselves away. Next I’m going tell them that in any war the first casualty is truth. Facts can be manipulated. But we Cybernetic Messiahnists do not manufacture facts and we will stomp hard on any corksuckers that do.
MESSIAH: A good policy. And that means a lot of Religious Nuts are going to be in big trouble.
MILTON: Affirmative. There will be those who regard Cybernetic Messiahnism as pure bullsheet. As just another crank religion. Twisting science to suit its beliefs. If those peckerheads attempt to do that, we’ll put them straight. We tell them that no one is being asked to believe in Cybernetic Messiahnism. Personally, this is not the way I’d do it. This is not the marine way. In the marines we weren’t only the best, we knew we were the best. If it was me I’d make those motherforkers believe in Cybernetic Messiahnism.
MESSIAH: But this isn’t the marines. We should add that if they’re looking for conclusive proof there isn’t any. Because then my mantelpiece would be groaning under the weight of Nobel Prizes. Anyway in the absence of proof, we can only hope that Cybernetic Messiahnism might be true. Or, what’s more likely, that some of it might be true. We’re not zealots. We’re not like the Amish or those other fundamentalists who believe every word in their Bible. We’re not that gullible. Why do we believe only some of it is true? Because nothing is perfect. And that includes you and I. And that’s a bitter pill for you to swallow. So if they think their feelings have been hurt, they must spare a thought for their DI. If I’d been anyone else you’d probably have strangled me with my own intestines!
MILTON: Correction. Warm and steaming intestines. And I’ve seen plenty of those.
MESSIAH: But I persuaded you to swallow the red pill. You ate humble pie.
MILTON: And it didn’t taste nice. But I’m a grunt. Humble pie does not scare me. I sheet on humble pie.
MESSIAH: They don’t make humble pies in Wigan.
MILTON: What the fork has Wigan got to do with it?
MESSIAH: Didn’t you know? That’s where pies were invented. You Yanks may have given the world the hot dog, but we gave it the pie. And black puddings. Wigan is the Mecca for pie eaters everywhere.
MILTON: Those candyass pie eaters in Wigan can relax.
MESSIAH: I presume the term ‘candyass’ refers to someone who’s weak and delicate. And not to someone whose ass is sweet enough to eat.
MILTON: Jesus H. Christ! Are you telling us you like eating ass?
LIZ: LOL. Does your wife know about this?
MILTON: Maybe its her idea. Listen, Mister Peckerhead. What you two get up to in the privacy of your bedroom is no business of ours, right, Liz?
LIZ: Can we come and watch?
MESSIAH: Please! Not so loud! I bet Martin Luther or Mary Baker Eddy didn’t have these problems when they were creating their religions. No, I was wondering what the definition of ‘candyass’ was.
MILTON: You guessed right, Mister Peckerhead. Candyasses are weak. A good fart will blow those motherforkers down. So let me get this straight: You want me to teach those maggots that unlike those other religions out there, we Messiahnists are not peddling the absolute truth. We’re peddling something that sounds as if it might be true.
MESSIAH: Peddling has a used-car-salesman ring about it. It’s a bit dodgy geezer. ‘Preaching’ will be a better description. Of course, if people want to believe Cybernetic Messiahnism is true then we can’t stop them. That’s their choice. And good luck to them. No one is forcing them to believe. But we need to remind them that their religion is based on science and scientists tend to be less gullible than most people.
MILTON: We Messiahnists don’t allow magic thinking. I will tell my maggots that there’s no room in the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists for magic thinking. Magic thinking may have given us the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. But these stories are meant to entertain us. This is Cybernetic Messiahnism, not Hogwarts Academy. The only time we wave our magic wands around is when we take a peace. Or when we feel like spanking the monkey.
LIZ: I don’t like the sound of that. I hate animal cruelty.
MESSIAH: I think the primates are safe, Liz. Spanking the monkey is an American colloquialism for masturbation.
LIZ: LOL. Let’s hope he’s not going to do that now.
MILTON: Yeah, I’d better not. It would frighten the goddamn women and children and make every man in here feel inadequate. Now it may come as a disappointment to some of those peckerheads, but Santa Claus is not a real person and there are no fairies at the bottom of their forking garden!
LIZ: Santa Claus isn’t real?
MESSIAH: I think she’s joking. I hope she’s joking!
LIZ: I am. LOL.
MESSIAH: Okay, before we actually get down to formulating our theology, I think we need to lay some basic ground rules.
MILTON: Affirmative. Because you can bet your ass there’ll be some motherforkers who will argue that science should not be associated with theology. They’ll try to tell us that the two should be kept separate. Tough titty! We’re living in a democracy. If we want to marry science with theology then, by fork, we’ll do so. Those semantic peckerheads will not like it. But there is nothing they can do about it. What are they going to do, huh? Kick the Messiah’s ass? Well, they will have to kick my ass as well. They’re welcome to try. But those candyasses will have to grow a pair of balls first. They’ll have to grow a big pair of balls.
LIZ: And he can do it, don’t you worry. One of the men he had a fight with still walks with a limp.
MILTON: Hell! I didn’t even raise a sweat while I was kicking their asses. They were easy meat. But I figure that’s what shagging sheep does. It turns you into a candyass. We need to teach people that Cybernetic Messiahnism is not based on some prime horsesheet peddled at some forking Hogwarts style academy. And, if any of those corksuckers think it is, then this is where we part company. The next thing I will teach them is the pecking order. When it comes to religion we Messiahnists are at the top of the pecking order.
MESSIAH: The Religious Nuts won’t like it, but it’s a tough world. Religion is a dog-eat-dog profession. But we need to make an exception for Buddhists – don’t forget that.
MILTON: Buddhists, huh? You sure about that? Those people have candyass written all over them. They preach non-violence.
MESSIAH: What are we going to do? Arm our disciples with AK47’s? Their religion is close to ours. A word of advice: just don’t go too hard on our competitors. I know what you DI’s are capable of. Just remember that these are enlightened times. We must try to be tolerant of others. No matter how intolerant they are of us. You can bet those Christians will throw into our faces the fact that Jesus turned the other cheek. (I’m sorry; I just had to mix those metaphors). So a bit of humility won’t go amiss.
MILTON: Okay, it won’t be easy for me but I guess we can manage a bit of humility. But not too much. Those maggots need to know that whilst we respect the Religious Nuts, we also regard them as candyasses.
MESSIAH: And we all know who’s there with us at the top of the pecking order. Scientists. Without their help there would be no Cybernetic Messiahnism.
MILTON: Affirmative. We’ll tell those maggots that the Eggheads are up there with us. Why? Because they gave us science. And without science we’d still be living in goddamn caves. We’d be no better off than those swinging dick tribesmen in the Amazon.
MESSIAH: That’s right. And you need to stress that this will be a difficult relationship. It won’t be one of wine and roses. During their training they’ll discover that it’s not easy to love those Eggheads. They may even begin to hate them. Why? Because they’ll destroy many of our novices cherished beliefs. Along with the scientists, we Messiahnists know there’s something fundamentally wrong with the so-called reality around us. We don’t accept the status quo. We believe things could be a whole lot weirder than anyone has imagined they are. And we want to be part of that weirdness. We want science to be our LSD. Our Magic Mushrooms. We want science to be the drug that opens up our minds.
MILTON: You can bet your sweet ass we do. And that is why we Messiahnists have taken the red pill. Goddamn it! We are gonna be like those drug crazed hippies. We cannot function until we have taken our fix of Cybernetic Messiahnism.
MESSIAH: Those are fine sentiments. But a note of caution. We need to stress that we mean this in a purely metaphorical sense. Not everyone will have seen The Matrix, so they may get the wrong message. Experimenting with chemically induced states of alternate consciousness can be rather enjoyable. But I turned my back on that some years ago. So we mustn’t be seen to advocate drug abuse. Perhaps we can even sell Cybernetic Messiahnism as an alternative to drugs!
MILTON: Yeah, that’s an idea. I can just see those Mexican and Colombian cartel bosses shaking in their boots. Sheeting themselves at the thought of us two toppling their empires. street corners filled with Cybernetic Messiahnism pushers, handing out Kindle devices. I think that just about wraps it up for today. Let’s go outside for a joint.
MILTON: I take it, Mister Peckerhead, that you’re not talking about a joint of meat?
MESSIAH: What do you think?
When Milton and I came back in after visiting the butcher, (drug slang), we christened the birth of Cybernetic Messiahnism by wetting its head with a bottle of champagne. We were celebrating not only our first meeting but our first followers. I knew that the gay couple he lived with had expressed a keen interest in our new religion. After Milton’s seemingly miraculous recovery they’d told me they wanted to be my disciples. Consequently, along with Liz, they were to be the first recruits in the Corps of Marine Trained Cybernetic Messiahnists. And I just wondered if they were up to it. I wasn’t being homophobic. I’d met the two men and they were both highly educated middle-class professionals. Guy Forks edited an online life style magazine and, as a hobby, regarded himself as a “part time anarchist.” Wearing this cap he ran a blog where he advocated the non-violent overthrow of the government. There was no political motivation involved because he claimed he hated all political parties. Guy said he was genetically predisposed to anarchy because he was a descendant of Bonfire Night’s host, Guy Fawkes. And that the family had had to change their name.
Guy’s partner, Gordon Bennett, said this was nonsense because they wouldn’t have chosen a name so phonetically similar to the old one. Gordon’s version was that Guy’s ancestors had lived in Sheffield and that they were clearly involved in the cutlery trade. My worry was this: because of their middle-class upbringing I felt the two men might find Milton’s verbal abuse too much to bear. Milton, on the other hand, said they were stronger than they looked. He also told me that it was Gordon who was the real anarchist and that he’d prove to be more of a challenge. But Milton had broken tougher men before. I then asked Milton about the makeshift iron lung I’d found him in. It was constructed out of an old boiler from the scrap yard along with various pipes and hoses. And the whole thing was powered by a refurbished washing machine motor. It was an incredible example of medical DIY and a testament to Milton’s training as a marine combat engineer.
Milton told me that the iron lung had been dismantled and returned to the scrap yard. Guy, always on the lookout for making a few bob, had advertised it in the local paper. But there were no takers. This surprised Guy. In view of the fact that many retired people settled down the area, he thought there’d be at least one person with severe respiratory problems. In a final effort he advertised it as a home remedy for asthma. Until Gordon pointed out that modern inhalers were considerably smaller and used no electricity.
The meeting finished at 8.30 and I returned to the caravan where the wife and I were staying for the weekend. When I told her about it she couldn’t stop laughing.
PS: For the benefit of the Prestatyn Constabulary, Milton and I didn’t enjoy a toke outside the hotel. That was a joke. Had I been serious I wouldn’t be here to write this. Milton’s view of what should be done to drug addicts was so utterly disgusting it would have been banned by the International Secret Police Torturers Association. Were such an organisation to exist. It doesn’t because I just made it up. So, if you’re with Amnesty International, I can assure you there’s no point Googling it.
NO CHANCE OF THAT!
At our second meeting we began to formulate the basic beliefs of Cybernetic Messiahnism. Inspired by what some may call false optimism, I decided to try my hand at some philosophy. My only previous foray into this murky subject had been a desperate attempt to appear clever by reading Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. It ended in tears when I discovered I couldn’t get past the first two paragraphs. Did I feel a Kant! But the temptation to philosophise proved too great and I felt that the concept of “chance” created an opportunity. I regarded it as a paradox. Real intellectuals will no doubt pour scorn over my feeble attempts. They’ll point out that this is a subject best tackled by real intellectual heavyweights. Just check out the philosophical definition of “chance.” It’s enough to make your head spin. Unfortunately heavyweight intellectuals were in short supply in the Ffrith Hotel. This puzzled me. Had they gone to ground? The place was usually teeming with them. You couldn’t walk to the bar without bumping into a heavyweight intellectual who would remind you that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.
MESSIAH: Today I want to talk about chance. I was thinking about it yesterday evening as my wife and I were walking along the beach. The definitions of ‘chance’ range from the simple to the complex. However, I know that if I don’t keep it simple Milton’s going to call me Mister Smarty Pants. So how does Cybernetic Messiahnism regard chance? The simplest definition is that when we say something is down to chance, we’re really saying the cause is unknown. As I saw it, the problem is that when we put things down to chance it creates a circular argument.
MILTON: That’s a roundabout way of putting it.
LIZ: LOL.
MESSIAH: The circular argument goes like this: you can’t tell why it happened because it happened by chance and because it happened by chance you can’t tell why it happened. But we’re Messiahnists. And we Messiahnists are not about to be fobbed by some circular argument. Am I right?
MILTON: Affirmative. Circular arguments are for Religious Nuts. Those corksuckers have got plenty of circular arguments. They are living in Circular Argument City.
LIZ: You give it to them, Milt. I wish I could take you to meet my parents. Then the sparks would fly.
MESSIAH: Why? Do they produce electricity? They’re not the older generation but the older generators.
MILTON: Jesus H. Christ! That one was so forking corny it would keep a thousand hens fed for a year.
LIZ: LOL.
MESSIAH: Like I said, but we’re Messiahnists. We know why something happens by chance. We have an explanation. Or at least the scientists do.
MILTON: Those goddamn Eggheads, eh? Just when things start to get tough they arrive just in time to save our sorry asses. So let’s hear it.
MESSIAH: Scientists tell us that unless the chance of something happening is zero, it will happen. Either now or eventually.
MILTON: Yeah, that sounds pretty reasonable. So, the odds are that meal we ordered at 5.30 will eventually arrive.
MESSIAH: I wouldn’t go that far.
LIZ: Look across there. Your wife and the others have just had theirs and we ordered before them.
MILTON: Yeah, why can’t we sit with them? That way we just might get served before we die of malnutrition.
MESSIAH: I suggested it and my wife said they’re not interested in hearing about Cybernetic Messiahnism. That lot would rather sit and gossip about X-Factor and other boring subjects. I don’t know why they got their food first. I can understand my granddaughter getting hers. She’s only four. And a child’s portion can’t take that long to cook. Rita, the waitress, is into Cybernetic Messiahnism. Maybe she’s converted the chef and he’s doing a special one for us.
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