A cult of personality.

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Gellinger on Pixabay

Nobody asked me, and nobody is volunteering, however, I am not deterred by this. I am starting my own cult.

Like all cults, everyone who joins has to give me, their Beloved Leader, all their money. Don’t worry, I will use it only to fortify our compound and buy more dark chocolates for everyone. C’mon people, there is no way I hope to keep any of my followers without high quality chocolate — especially because I want happy followers, and I love chocolates. It’s not going to be one of those murder-y cults, I guarantee it. And, by fortify our compound, I, of course, mean buy more luxury items such as mink blankets (not real mink, naturally, no animals would be harmed in the making of my cult) and two puppies and two kittens, and all the things they require, including obedience classes for kittens and extra squishy doggy beds to take long naps in for puppies.

Every successful cult needs an element of the supernatural. I am completely prepared for this and will build our compound on the site of the ancient Indian burial ground for beloved pets.

I don’t need to surround myself with too many sycophants — just one toady. I do need to get things done, but I will be too busy … eh … governing my cult to do any actual work. I will need an expendable, over-achieving, high-strung grad student on whom to take out my impatience. For them, the pay will be tiny and the hours long, but some people live for abuse.

I will also need to come up with a chant, something a little musical, but neither rap nor Gregorian. It’ll have to be more akin to a commercial jingle, something catchy but not too complex. Words will come later, once we’re established as a semi-sovereign city-state, kind of like Vatican. I’m sure we’re not able to survive on our own, so we’ll need government help without government interference.

What will be the purpose of my cult? Other than to worship me in a non-godly, but queenly way, really, nothing. No other purpose is required or necessary. We will have weekly meetings where everyone will tell me what they love about me, may ask me one question, of which I will, of course, give a correct and wise answer, and the rest of the time can be spent singing, cooking, dancing, or taking naps. Do whatever the spirit moved you to do. All I ask in return is complete and total love and devotion — that is really not too much to ask for, from my point of view.

I can see problems with my cult scenario. For example, to find enough rich and gullible — I mean, real and generous people to love me and want to be with me seems like an insurmountable issue. Now I am getting a little daunted. Therefore, I will now forgo the idea of starting my own cult, instead settling for watching TV and drinking a beer. Forget I brought it up.

Written by

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.

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