Rexianity
Rex, Canine be He, joyfully runs through the heavens. Rex has existed since the beginning of time. He will
continue to exist for all eternity or until the celestial dog food runs out,
whichever comes first.
The great and glorious Rex, holy be He, shits planets. After a meal of especially
spicy celestial dog food, He shits stars. His digestive system is also
responsible for copious quantities of gas. If he farts within the
atmosphere of a planet, it is doomed to many millennia of devastating
global warming.
The
beings on his defecated planets — except dogs, which He
created in his likeness — started as trivial organic compounds that are
found throughout the universe. The beings evolved as a result of
billions of random
genetic mutations that occurred over billions of years. Favorable
mutations have been
sifted for survival by natural selection. Rex takes no responsibility
for these beings — only for dogs.
Rex has a particular distaste for the species commonly
referred to as human, too many of whom suffer from the arrogant
delusion that
they
are the masters. However, He
does
appreciate those humans who honor Him by stooping, scooping and
disposing of His earthly creations' droppings, thereby removing the
holy shit from the sight of heathen eyes and preventing impious beings
from enjoying its splendor.
Unfortunately, all is not running,
jumping, glorious dog shit and happiness in Rex's universe. Satan and
his equally diabolical siblings live in black
holes. These evil fiends are filled with venom and hate, not to mention
uncontrollable horniness that leads them to try to impregnate virgins.
At least, that's the virgins' story and they're sticking to it.
Whenever Satan or one of his siblings ventures out of his or her
lair to threaten Rex's feces worlds, Rex protects the corporeal dogs he created by barking loudly and
chasing the devils back into their black holes. Other beings, humans included, are incidental beneficiaries of
Rex's behavior.
For
the most part, Rex is a merciful and benevolent God. Unfortunately, He
is sometimes overcome by the urge to pick up a planet between His
teeth, run with it across the heavens and deposit it somewhere else.
This disconcerts any inhabitants who are on the planet at the
time. However, the distress subsides when inertia overcomes gravity and
the inhabitants are thrown off into space and die, which is a most
horrible death. The lucky ones are the people who are fortunate enough to have
been under Rex's teeth when He bit down. They die instantly.
Beyond the fear that Rex's playfulness engenders in mortal beings, many Rexian adherents are
disgusted by the thought that He puts His own droppings in his mouth.
But, he's our God and we love Him.
Worship
Rex is pleased to no end when, despite their knowing
that He did not create them, humans worship Him. Thus, we curb our
pious desire to honor him in this way. When Rex is happy, he wags his
enormous tail vigorously. Several planets have been destroyed as a
result. Worship is, therefore, definitely out.
Afterlife
Only dogs experience an afterlife.They become angels and frolic with
Rex in the heavens.
Neither
Rex nor the dog angels are pleased with this arrangement. Being
minuscule compared to Rex, dog angels tend to get stepped on and killed
when, with wild abandon, Rex plays fetch with planets. There is no
afterlife after the afterlife, so that's it for the unfortunate squished angels.
Their celestial crushing is usually exceptionally painful before the
final end arrives. And the knowledge that Rex pays so
little attention to them is exceptionally demeaning and bad for the dog angels' self-esteem. Consequently, most
dogs wish they would, like humans and other animals, simply die when they die rather than
sharing
the heavens with Rex for all eternity or until he steps on them, which,
because eternity is never-ending, is certain to happen some time.
Rex
doesn't get anything out of having his angel dogs around either. To be
honest, His
eyesight has never been great, so He isn't even aware that these puny
little creatures are up there with Him. And they make him sneeze when
He accidentally snorts one up His nose — which is not pleasant for
either Rex or the snorted angel.
Commandments
- Honor thy kibbles and thy bits lest they go bad.
- Thou shalt not commit adultery, unless you do it doggy
style. Then, it's holy.
- Thou shalt not urinate in public unless it's on a tree, a
fire hydrant or someone you don't like.
- Thou
shalt not allow a dog dropping to lie on the ground for more than one
Godly second (about 3.7985 earth minutes) lest an impious one might
come upon it and sully the holy shit.
- Thou shalt suffer willingly, peacefully and graciously a dog to bark.
- Thou
shalt model your behavior on the behaviors of dogs, His creations.
However, picking up sticks in your mouth and sniffing other people's
asses is optional.
- Thou shalt not speak any jokes about
"God" being "dog" spelled backwards. They are impious, obvious,
hackneyed and not particularly funny.
Dietary Laws
Rexianity has only two dietary laws. We follow
both very strictly. First, for obvious reasons, we are not
allowed to eat dogs. Second, and less obvious, we must thoroughly
wash all food in distilled water before eating it. Why? Think about
it. All food ultimately comes from either plants that have grown in the soil or
animals that have feasted on plants that have grown in the soil. And
where did that soil come from? That's right, it's Rex's shit. You
really want to rinse that off well.
Holidays
Rexians believe that the dog days of summer are holy.
Since nobody has precisely defined when the dog days of summer are, Rexians in
the northern take all of June, July and August
off.
To be on the safe side, some orthodox people also avoid work throughout the
shoulder months of May and September. We are unique among religions in
not celebrating holidays in the southern hemisphere on the same dates as in the northern
hemisphere. On the south half of the planet Rexians take off December,
January and February, with orthodox Rexians also taking off
November and March.
Some orthodox Rexians maintain households in both the
northern and southern hemispheres to invoke a religious right to, without a loss of pay or job status, not
come into work during any month
except April and October. Many employers in a variety of countries are
fighting these religious rights and freedoms claimed by Rexians. The
cases are currently working their way up to the supreme courts of a
number of nations.
Tithing
There is a crisis in Rexianity. After billions of years of gamboling
through empyrean leash-free zones, chasing after — but failing to
catch — the occasional passing spaceship, and defecating planets, Rex is running out of
celestial dog food. Without food Rex, our God, will die. This is a
catastrophe in the making. If Rex were to die we would be on our own in
the universe, with no one to blame for our problems but ourselves. That
would be unthinkable. If you'll excuse the mixed metaphor, Rex makes an excellent scapegoat.
Rexian
scientists and religious scholars perused the sacred texts and discerned from them the
composition of celestial dog food. Our scientists know how to make Rex's food, but they
do not have the funds necessary to ramp up production sufficiently to
meet Rex's needs. In addition, the celestial dog food must be shot into
space by rockets powerful enough to carry it far enough away from earth
such that Rex won't inadvertently chomp down on Earth when he chows down his food.
Those rockets are astronomically — no pun intended — expensive. What's
more, as you can imagine, we need millions of them each year if we are to sate
Rex's God-sized hunger.
The need is urgent. Send every dollar
you possibly can to your nearest Rexian church to help fund this righteous, valiant
effort. If you don't, you'll have only yourself to blame.
© Copyright Klebanoff Associates, Inc. and Joel Klebanoff, 2007-2008. All rights reserved.
Shalampax and Shalampaxian are trademarks of Klebanoff Associates, Inc.