praise be to _______!

I am now a legally-ordained minister. in two religions.

Why? Because.

I figure that if, while marrying two or more individuals, they ask what denomination I represent, I shall tell them I am of the Universal Life Church. It sounds vaguely cultish, but its primary dictum is fantastically inoffensive and morally all-inclusive. I could marry a gay black Islamic man to a straight white Catholic armadillo under it and not catch any grief from them. (the local Islam and Catholicism ministers might have an issue, as well as Colorado state law and PETA, but not the ULC.)

If they don't care or think to ask about it, then I represent The Church of the Subgenius. This will be shown by printing CHURCH OF THE SUBGENIUS immediately after my name on the officiation form, in big letters, and twice if there's room for it. Oh the questions it will raise, questions I will answer with laughter and urine.

So the next time you see me, remember: my new title is Reverend Tayloe, ULC & CoTSG. And if you call me that I will slap you.

edit: As I have now received official documentation from both churches (on the same day, no less), I have learned the CotSG contracts out their ministership to the ULC and that they pass the savings onto me! As such, my full and proper title is The Right Honorable Reverend Dr. Tayloe, CotSG (ULC), esq, rn.

also would anyone like a pamphlet

TUESDAAAAAAYYY

Imagine that the past is a cat.

Specifically, the cat in the Schrödinger's Cat thought experiment. Naturally, this cat is in a box. Mind you, you're not absolutely sure that there is a cat in the box; there's catlike hair lying around and some claw marks, but there is no evidence to contradict the theory that Someone Else could have come in and carefully placed those clues to throw you offtrack.

Now, excluding the hair samples and the broken claw stuck in the side of the box (wow that cat did not want to go in), you have no clues as to what breed the cat is, or its current state. You do, however, know a great deal about the box. The box is rigged to kill whatever is inside in a manner randomly chosen from a nigh-infinite list after one hour of occupancy. While you have only arrived at the box, you can generally surmise that it has been roughly four years since the cat was interred. Yes you can smell it. You cannot open the box and so, because the precise method of death cannot be discovered, the cat is simultaneously dead in a nigh-infinite number of ways.

The upshot is that deep in the past, our past, there is a mess of conflicting creation myths, hypotheses, and theories all clumped together, existing at once and as one. I present this as the original source of television sitcoms.