The Butcher's Cult

Well, one vodka and cranberry on a hot evening and I become all forgetful, and hence, I forgot to tell you guys the funniest thing that happened yesterday. Some cult tried (or is still trying) to recruit the Butcher! How hilarious is that? I mean, he doesn't even have any earthly goods to give up. He'll have to give up mine or borrow some from the neighbors. And, and, they want him to read through this book which will show him the path to enlightenment, and so you know I was flipping through that fucker while I was taking a shit this morning. It appears to be the ramblings of some acid-head yoga-rific quasi-Buddhist, who wants the world to know such things as "The caterpillar does not un-caterpillar. It just is the butterfly in its heart space." Also, apparently, I must be prepared for a journey into outer space. I will die when I reach the Allen Belt, but if I propel myself hard enough, some core of me will survive. Yep. Their cult is going to send me into outer space on a suicide mission. See, this is why so many religions don't write stuff down. That way when someone says, "Well, Odin says you should always have your sword with you when you're working in the field" and someone else says "How am I supposed to carry a big heavy sword and plow my field? Can I leave my sword over by the tree and just run to it if I need it?" and the first person says, "Shit, I don't know. I thought it was symbolic. Let's ask Sven." and Sven is like "Dudes, I'm trying to get laid here, can you fuck off?" And the religions that do write stuff down attribute all the nonsense to their god(s) or some long dead religious leader. That way when someone says "Thou shall not take Lord's name in vain" and someone else asks "Does that mean I can say 'God damn it' if I really do want God to damn it?" the first person can say "It says what it says, jackass, I don't make the rules." But when it's just some old hippy who used to be named Phil and who is now Swami Rama Lama Ding Dong, it's just a lot harder to excuse the confusion as a matter of sloppy translation.