One of my first jobs was at a trendy little boutique agency in Hollywood. I shared my office with two other designers, Dan and Jennifer. We were the hottest shop in town but there were rumors of problems. Soon, our paychecks started to bounce and then one day we showed up and were informed the agency was closed. We had 20 minutes to clear out our office.
In the mad scramble that followed to find a new job, I lost track of my office mates. About a year later, I ran into Dan. We both had landed new jobs and I asked what had become of Jennifer.
"Oh, she joined a cult" Dan replied.
Seems she met a guy, he introduced her to his "church" and within a matter of weeks she's sold off all her belongings, disowned her family and moved into the cult compound out in Temecula. Dan tried to explain their philosophy, something having to do with astral projection, but it was way to dense to contemplate and I was running late.
A couple of years ago I was having lunch with a copywriter friend of mine. We were both unemployed at the time and didn't have many prospects and we sat there spitballing ideas to try and jumpstart our careers. After running through the obvious options he hit on a unique idea.
"Let's start a cult" he said.
It sounded intriguing.
We'd cobble together a deeply held belief system from the best parts of what was out there. A little Buddhism, a little Hindu, some New Age Mysticism and Native American spiritualism, some Asian ancestor worship mixed with Day of the Dead symbolism, maybe some ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses and, why not, recycling. We'd coat the whole thing with a little Catholic bling and throw up a website. We'd take PayPal.
He'd be responsible for our sacred texts, I'd take care of all the iconography and symbolism. It seemed like a plan and we had nothing to lose. Ultimately it never got off the ground because he found a job and in hindsight it's probably for the best. Had it succeeded it probably wouldn't have ended well, maybe with a bloody power struggle and visits from the IRS. Or maybe we'd overreach and project the end of the world, and then when it didn't happen the whole house of cards would come tumbling down.
Although we avoided that day of reckoning, it appears others aren't going to be so lucky come Sunday. Assuming it comes. With the world scheduled to end tomorrow, all bets are off. At least we'll have some warning. The prediction is very specific and states the end will begin with earthquakes starting at 6pm "local time". That means when it's 6pm "local time" in Sydney, it'll be 1am here. If I wake up tomorrow and all hell's broken loose overseas, I'm going to have to do some fast re-thinking.
All the same, I'm not too concerned, although I'm putting off mowing the lawn until Sunday, just in case. It's a pain in the ass to do and I'd hate to do it and then watch the lawn collapse into a fiery abyss around 6pm.
