Finding My Religion

Finding My Religion

By Rick Scholz

I feel like my life is starting to unravel.

I was thinking, just yesterday, that it’s time for me to get religious. As one gets older one must either come to grips with the fact that life is meaningless and that when you die - Poof!… you disappear like a smoke ring in a stiff breeze.

Or... Plan B... Get Religion!

Religions provide all the answers in easy-to-digest form; which is very reassuring when you’re racing towards oblivion with a beer in one hand, a ham sandwich in the other, a bag of potato chips in your lap and you’re thinking deep thoughts like “Where’s that damn TV remote?” “And, if I have to get up to find that remote there’s going to be Hell to pay!”

TS Eliot, the guy who wrote The Wasteland went whole hog for no-holds-barred religious certitude just before entering the 5th decade of his life. As a young scholar and aesthete he hobnobbed with the likes of Virginia Woolf and the Bloomsbury Group. Side note: Members of this group were sometimes known as “Bloomsberries” Ha! The Woolf Woman, leader of the group, was libertine in her leanings.

TS had been brought up as a freethinking Unitarian so he sorta fit in with the Bloomsberries. In an astounding about face, in 1922, at the age of 37, Eliot chose to finish up the remaining chapters of his life as an Anglo-Catholic. I’m here to tell ya, those Anglo-Catholics (A-C) can be as heavy handed a bunch of religious martinets as you’re ever likely to meet. They promote truly harsh concepts like Original Sin and Eternal Damnation, I guess Mr. Wasteland fell in love with the certitude of Anglo-Catholic beliefs.

Certitude banged his soul like a $5 hooker, you might say.

Remember, $5 was a lot of money in 1922... like $62.78 in today's dollars, so TS was hooked.

Certitude sounds like a good bet but Anglo-Catholic beliefs are way too bitter for my tender Protestant taste buds. Time for some internet surfing I guess. Hmmm… which religion should I choose? I know, I’ll ask Google. Google “Sees All and Knows All”. Plus Google has all that personal data gathered via my queries and quibbles to guide me confidently and gently on my path to glory. Surely Google will have some Googlelicious info-tainment tid bits that will help prepare me to cross the River Styx, or whatever my fate may be when I kick the bucket.

My second choice would be to ask Amazon, which I could do via Jeff Bezos’ All-Knowing Artificial Intelligence: FindingReligionReedsy061919.odt rscholz@comcast.net

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Alexa. Ah, Alexa, smart as a whip with a voice like buttercream frosting. But Alexa might just see my upcoming journey across the River Styx as an opportunity to sell me some sturdy boots and some camping gear. I think I’ll start with Google: the first and foremost intelligence in the Universe I'd say, or near as dammit.

And, just because my nature is a bit perverse, I thought I’d start out on my path to certitude and religious glory by finding out what Google knows about being a Muslim.

But I made a tiny mistake in my Google query. I meant to type in “Muslim” but instead typed in “Muslin.” Probably because “m” and “n” live cheek by jowl on a qwerty keyboard.

That was the happiest mistake of my life. Because of that tiny mistake I found a religion that will clothe and protect my soul on that last most fearsome and ferocious journey. I want to be a Muslin.

What is Muslinism?

One of the purest, simplest, most gentle and most perfect religions in the world.

What makes Muslinism so magical, you ask? First and foremost, its breathability. The open weave and lightweight thought fabric of Muslin beliefs allow for maximum mental airflow, eliminating consternation and reducing the risk of overheating your soul. This magical quality helps keep your earthly soul comfy, cozy and squeezably soft ™. The result? Lifelong Peace of Mind.

Muslinism gets even better with age. It starts out soft and stays that way year after year. The delicate yet durable weave of Muslin morality evokes a stretchiness with a ‘natural give’ allowing a Muslin believer to snuggle up to a sometimes hostile world without pain, remorse or a night in the pokey.

It’s true that Muslinism has a darker side. There’s a Muslin sect known as the Wasabi sect and they practice a form of Muslinism called Wasabiism. These are the hot-headed Muslins. The fabric of their thought is coarse. Their beliefs are grimy. They never “air out” their beliefs on any mental clothesline.

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Sunshine is the best disinfectant but their beliefs are so soiled and shameful that not even the almighty sun can disinfect them. Their beliefs scurry down dark alleys and hide from goodness and light.

Where a Muslin might have a sip of wine before dinner for the joy that is in it, Wasabis only drink hard liquor and they drink it by the tumbler full. And yes, violence often ensues. “If a little is good, then a lot is better” is a core belief among Wasabis. They spin conspiracy theories out of whole cloth and are a danger to every living thing. They are very doctrinaire. They are both wild and Puritanical in their beliefs. The Wasabis are Muslinism’s dirty secret. Seldom do the kind and gentle Muslins discuss their wayward cousins the Wasabis, but when they do they refer to them as the “Great Unwashed.” And since Muslins sincerely believe that cleanliness is next to godliness, this is the ultimate Muslin disparagement.

But enough about Wasabis… let those hot-heads stew in their own juices. I don’t want to be a Wasabi.

What I want to be is a pure and simple and gentle Muslin. Since I am concerned that the fabric of my life is unraveling, becoming a Muslin looks like a perfect fit for my wayward soul.

Here are some of the core principles of the Muslin religion: 1. Clothe thy self in virtue.

2. Dress in layers.

3. Wash when soiled, but gently.

I went to the Muslin web site and set up a facetime call with a Muslin Priestess. The Muslin Priestess has personally promised me that if I abide by these three simple rules I will be welcomed into Muslin Heaven when I die… so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.

I’ve found a new religion and no longer fear the grim reaper since I now have faith to clothe and protect me. Wrapped in the Muslin religion I'll stay warm and dry through all eternity. I guess TS Eliot was right after all, which shouldn’t be surprising. He liked cats.

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