the Ultimate Cult
from Planet NU .. Numera Una
The Planet NU awoke on <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />16 July 2005 in a planet-wide frisson of gossip and delicious palaver. The Planet NU was new. It was ashiver, it was agog. Jamie Hill Fuller was the toast of the town, the marmalade, the jam, the butter, the honey of the town – all the towns. Tetra String Quartet, “the best chamber music ever heard” had aired on Radio New Classiq at 11:00pm on Thursday 15 July 2005. Wars ceased. Peace grew like fleece on sheep.
We’re all so used to the now-legendary cult of Jamie Fuller, like Elvis, on every lip, but this was when it began. Fun escalated. Ill will evaporated – poof, like a busted soap bubble. All human beings greeted each other, “From one human being to another, you’re pretty cute.” “Igualmente!” Heels were clicked, somers were saulted, sees were sawed, teeters were tottered delight reigned like rainbows, soft and colorful, impossible really, but magical and actual; dances were danced, romances were chanced.
The hubbub and hullabaloo the morning of Friday July 16 made whales write new deep and more sonorous songs. Made everyone rich enough to be comfy and jolly.
Because I had known Jamie Fuller ‘when,’ I was vouchsafed one of the rare interviews that this shy Cult Figure ever granted. I was enchanted. I mean, weren’t we all? It was clear that violinist Clyde Mills, ole Sly Eyes Clyde had stirred virtuoso lust in all the little ladies of the Planet NU, but Jamie Fuller with his milk-chocolate-colored eyes and bittersweet-chocolate cello playing slouchily stirred a ferocious fondness in the matrons and maidens.
Tetra String Quartet acclaim spread across the Planet like psychic lava. Emergency rooms were filled with people who were dying of joy. Everyone remembered where they were when they first heard Tetra String Quartet, whose hand they were holding, whose ear they were nibbling. Widdershins and triple sixes were all the rage. All 666,666 tv stations played an outlaw tape of Tetra exclusively, 24/7, because no one would bear to watch anything else ever again.
All religions melted and merged and splurged into one gigantic choir of lovely and longing song. Planetary anguish was extinguished. For centuries Tetra was played on the Jumbotrons of all 30 baseball teams during all 162 games. Rightness was ignited. The Raiders always lost. The 49ers always won. We were all excited and delighted. None of us shouted loutily. None of us shouted or doubted or pouted anymore. We were free. We were glee. We were pagan and ebullient. We were freed from need except the need for song and for the Tetra String Quartet.
Because we rode on magic carpets now, instead of gas stations on corners wee taco and burrito stations where La Bamba and Burrito Real competed benignly to provide us with al pastor and chile verde, subsidized with the money that had gone for the now universally seen as absurd Missile Nonsense system. Hedonism became the word to watch. Irony the only necessary vitamin. Flowers and lovers ambled amiably along rivers of sweet summery song. Tunes festooned the summer air. The moon sang too. Power to the peaceful became true and immediate and undeniable. ‘Laughter ever after’ began and ended all prayers – giving the deities a break from the previous endlessly needy whining which tended to have been the hallmark of praying on the old planet.
Nine crows cawed in the surprising bliss of minor keys. Languorous levity kissed our cheeks like zephyrs. The Bartholomew Empire of Sloth Lazy Susan Company led the Fortune 500, which now became the Fortune 5 Billion because we learned how to share the 1644 million dollars a day saved from the disappeared military budget to subsidize absurdly generous grants for both wild and mild practical jokes. If you were funny or aspired to be funny, it was pretty much “Apply ‘n Get Money.’ Funny money for real, at last. All practical joked could also be deducted from your income tax.
The sunlight poured over all of us like honey. How sweet and complete we became. All full of quirky mischief. There was no margarine after the Tetra String Quartet, only butter.
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“All religions melted and merged and splurged into one gigantic choir of lovely and longing song.” Wouldn't it be loverly? I do know that the religion virus will get less virulent and people will get more like sports fans rooting perhaps a little rudely but ultimately good-naturedly for their Team.
As horrible as it is now, think of how many fewer humans are in Religious Prisons than in the Middle Ages? (Prisons in the Mind with Invisible Bars.) Once Monotheism hit the planet like some comet of Slavering Godism, the real Plague, almost everyone had to toe the Line or pretend to. Who could you have even trusted to talk to?
So, like the vanquishing of legal slavery, Religion will get its icy grip out of everybody's naturally kindly enough souls eventually. I figure I got forty-five or fifty years probable left on the planet. Well, I can at least hope that Religion is in its last throes?