Wyn Drabble: Choosing comic creationism

Wyn Drabble.

I'm sure you know I wouldn't normally write about religion(s) but I have just read something which has changed that. I have just read about the world's fastest growing carbohydrate-based religion, The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

Last week, New Zealand Pastafarians (for that is what they call themselves) hosted the first legally recognised marriage and hail this event as a milestone towards acceptance of their beliefs as a real religion.

If you haven't heard of them - and until last week I hadn't - Pastafarians wear colanders on their heads (though they are restricted to one head each), revere pirates and claim the world was created by a giant deity made of spaghetti. They are also enamoured of pasta-based puns.

Pastafarian, Karen Martyn, has been given the right by New Zealand officials to conduct marriages because the church was declared to be "based on genuine philosophical convictions." As an ordained "ministeroni", she conducted the inaugural marriage, enabling Toby Ricketts and Marianna Young to "tie the noodly knot" on a charter vessel on Akaroa Harbour.

While I wholehearted agree with Karen Martyn's assertion that "laughter is the best medicine and it makes life much better and maximises our happiness", I still feel that if any religion is to earn my support it will require tenets either stronger or sillier than wearing colanders.

Naturally, when I read all this, I simply had to do some research. I unearthed that the founding prophet of The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster was a Bobby Henderson from Oregon, USA. He describes himself as a "hammock enthusiast and computer nerd" and founded the church in 2005.

My research also threw up some other religion options such as The Church of the SubGenius, which is a sort of parody religion and was founded in the 1950s by a salesman, J R "Bob" Dobbs. I can't help feeling I want my religion to have been founded by someone with a stronger name than Bob.

It certainly fails to cut the mustard when using it in the vocative from a kneeling position: "Oh, Bob ... "

Then there's the Prince Philip Movement, a cult found on Vanuatu's southern island of Tanna. Adherents believe that the Duke of Edinburgh is a divine being, the pale-skinned son of a mountain spirit and brother of John Frum.

Or I could choose to hook up with Thee Temple ov Psychick Youth though age and my love of correct spelling would be against me. This religion was founded in 1981 and is difficult to describe though a phrase that keeps coming up in descriptions I read is "practitioners of magic".

Then there's The Church of All Worlds, founded in 1962 by Oberon Zell-Ravenheart and his wife Morning Glory. From what I can make out, it is sort of based on science-fiction and may involve fairies.

Some of their rituals are based on the gods and goddesses of ancient Greece including, I'm sure, the God of Snappy Nomenclature, Bob.

All this makes it hard to choose a religion, doesn't it. And I promise you they are true. After all, who would just make up a religion? So, if you're looking for a system of belief to hang your life on, consider any of the above.

I think the thing that's going to sway my decision is the colander. Or I could start my own religion based on ... let's see ... adoration of the turnip (and other root vegetables by arrangement). I could call my religion Bob.

- Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.