05-03-2010, 07:03 PM
(April 27) -- You might want to start gathering your belongings. Because 24 short hours after the July 4th holiday ends, so will the world.
At least that's what the faux-religious Church of the SubGenius hopes and prays will happen.
But have no fear. For a small $30 fee, the Rev. Ivan Stang told AOL News, you can avoid Doomsday and, in the process, get everything your heart desires.
"The people who pay the $30 and become ordained SubGenius ministers get to live forever, or as long as they want, with the promise of pleasure for eternity," Stang said. "You get that with a lot of religions."
But the Church of the SubGenius isn't exactly your typical Sunday go-to-church denomination. Founded in the 1950s in Dallas, Texas, by salesman J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, the church has been described as a "satire or takeoff on fringe extremist beliefs of all kinds, political and religious," Stang said.
Currently the leader of the church, Stang says the church has always had a loyal counter-culture underground fan base that, aside from all the nonsense and satirical stuff, is basically "a network of people who are interested in goofy and strange crap."
Which brings us to Doomsday. Over the years -- and centuries -- many people have predicted Armageddon would arrive to destroy all living things on Earth. In 1979, when Dobbs suggested the world would end at 7 a.m. on July 5, 1998, it gave SubGeniuses everywhere enough time to plan a big party.
Stang admits how disappointed the 400 partiers were when Doomsday didn't happen, but another chance is coming up in July. But what exactly is supposed to occur? The upcoming X-Day end-of-the world festival, held in a fairly remote part of rural western New York State, will cater to an expected 150 or so participants, who will camp out and listen to bands, all in preparation for the arrival of aliens in flying saucers (presumably card-carrying church members themselves).
Stang, a former animator and film editor, says the all-powerful (and apparently lost) ETs will descend and offer the churchgoers something really special. "The dues-paying SubGeniuses will be lifted up into the escape vessels of the sex gods and goddesses from planet X, where, thanks to alien magic, all of their dreams will come true."
It should be pointed out that, according to Stang, all of the rest of disbelieving humanity, including the SubGeniuses who neglected to send in their 30 bucks, "will be exterminated, in a slow and painful process."
Sure, it all seems tongue-in-cheek (do aliens have tongues -- or cheeks?). On the other hand, maybe these SubGeniuses are on to something.
After all, couldn't good old Earth use a purging of the ongoing insensibilities and inhumanity that permeate the globe? An end-of-the-world clean sweep might be just what Mother Nature prescribes.
And you'd be in good company. "We get three to five membership orders a day," Stang said, admitting that his mortgage is paid for by the individual $30 ordainments he receives from church member wannabes. "There are well over 40,000 people who have been ordained over the last 30 years, but we don't know where a lot of them are -- they're fly-by-night believers."
Yes, the price of admission to redemption and survival of Doomsday is relatively cheap. And then, there are those otherworldly sex god and goddess benefits. It's almost tempting. See you all on Jupiter shortly after the 5th of July.
At least that's what the faux-religious Church of the SubGenius hopes and prays will happen.
But have no fear. For a small $30 fee, the Rev. Ivan Stang told AOL News, you can avoid Doomsday and, in the process, get everything your heart desires.
"The people who pay the $30 and become ordained SubGenius ministers get to live forever, or as long as they want, with the promise of pleasure for eternity," Stang said. "You get that with a lot of religions."
But the Church of the SubGenius isn't exactly your typical Sunday go-to-church denomination. Founded in the 1950s in Dallas, Texas, by salesman J.R. "Bob" Dobbs, the church has been described as a "satire or takeoff on fringe extremist beliefs of all kinds, political and religious," Stang said.
Currently the leader of the church, Stang says the church has always had a loyal counter-culture underground fan base that, aside from all the nonsense and satirical stuff, is basically "a network of people who are interested in goofy and strange crap."
Which brings us to Doomsday. Over the years -- and centuries -- many people have predicted Armageddon would arrive to destroy all living things on Earth. In 1979, when Dobbs suggested the world would end at 7 a.m. on July 5, 1998, it gave SubGeniuses everywhere enough time to plan a big party.
Stang admits how disappointed the 400 partiers were when Doomsday didn't happen, but another chance is coming up in July. But what exactly is supposed to occur? The upcoming X-Day end-of-the world festival, held in a fairly remote part of rural western New York State, will cater to an expected 150 or so participants, who will camp out and listen to bands, all in preparation for the arrival of aliens in flying saucers (presumably card-carrying church members themselves).
Stang, a former animator and film editor, says the all-powerful (and apparently lost) ETs will descend and offer the churchgoers something really special. "The dues-paying SubGeniuses will be lifted up into the escape vessels of the sex gods and goddesses from planet X, where, thanks to alien magic, all of their dreams will come true."
It should be pointed out that, according to Stang, all of the rest of disbelieving humanity, including the SubGeniuses who neglected to send in their 30 bucks, "will be exterminated, in a slow and painful process."
Sure, it all seems tongue-in-cheek (do aliens have tongues -- or cheeks?). On the other hand, maybe these SubGeniuses are on to something.
After all, couldn't good old Earth use a purging of the ongoing insensibilities and inhumanity that permeate the globe? An end-of-the-world clean sweep might be just what Mother Nature prescribes.
And you'd be in good company. "We get three to five membership orders a day," Stang said, admitting that his mortgage is paid for by the individual $30 ordainments he receives from church member wannabes. "There are well over 40,000 people who have been ordained over the last 30 years, but we don't know where a lot of them are -- they're fly-by-night believers."
Yes, the price of admission to redemption and survival of Doomsday is relatively cheap. And then, there are those otherworldly sex god and goddess benefits. It's almost tempting. See you all on Jupiter shortly after the 5th of July.
