The Church of Irony and Hipster Saints

Now, it has been going around that I am a proponent of the church of irony, which is to say I am a believer. This is, of course, untrue. I am merely its messiah* — a title which holds no formal standing in the church. The church being what it is, doctrine holds that I am a false prophet and full of lies. Though given how I am the primary source of information on church of irony practices and beliefs, I can see how there has been some confusion. The church is a preposterous thing and I do not take it seriously in a religious sense. You might say I am very serious about the idea of the church**, and its use for illustrative purposes. Then again, it would be entirely appropriate if I were more serious about it than I let on. The nature of the project dictates that the church's beliefs reflect mine in a partial or distorted way. Consider it a funhouse mirror for the soul — neither wholly honest nor dishonest.

* Christ, they say, was Jewish.^ One might hazard that the existence of an honest freelance messiah is actually a rather inconvenient thing for an extant church hierarchy. Though even more so, it seems difficult to state that Christ could have faith at all, given His unique perspective on the whole God question.

^ Not that I am comparing myself to Jesus... or, technically I am, but not on any important level.

** But not so serious as to capitalize it. Consider this also my jab at Capitalized Concepts in general.

You could shave by means of such a mirror, if you had to, but only if you knew how it was bent. To know this, you must recognize your own face by its distorted image. It has been said that the church of irony is self-referential, and this is its downfall. Perhaps, but the whole history of philosophy is marked by self-recognition ("Know thyself" may ring a bell). And in a funhouse mirror, one may by chance percieve some features more clearly.*** To put it another way, absurdity necessarily contains some understanding of truth, or else it could not be recognized as absurdity.

*** Some features, in order of likelihood: the nose, the abdomen, and the sense of perpetual outrage.

[Absurd Digression]
By example: if I know that I am headed west, this is implicitly knowledge that I am not moving east. If I wish to head east, I need simply turn around. The truth/absurdity problem is presumably not be as easily resolved, though. Suppose I intend to scale Mt. Taranaki. It may be that I know with certainty that I am not at the top of Mt. Taranaki. Implicitly, I recognize some aspect of my current situation as inconsistent with my knowledge of Mt. Taranaki. Still, it cannot be overstated how difficult it is to reach the summit of Mt. Taranaki purely by empirical observation.

An illustration:

	vs.
Mt. Taranaki		Not Mt. Taranaki
	vs.
Also not Mt. Taranaki		Mt. Taranaki in Disguise

But what if, in my certainty, I turn out to be mistaken, and I actually am currently atop Mt. Taranaki? Well, I may be mistaken. I can always be mistaken. Possibly Mt. Taranaki has been socially constructed — which does not fully answer the question, either. I may tell you that a certain bridge has been constructed out of stone, but this will not enable you to build a new bridge. I may also tell you that the bridge was put in place by dropping it, all at once, from a very great height — but it is likely that I am mistaken. The problem of being mistaken is one of the things the church may yet manage to illuminate*. In the meantime, the author presently agitates for a more widespread understanding of statistics and probability.

(More clever skeptics may suggest that if, instead of Mt. Taranaki, I use Olympus Mons or Mount Doom, to illustrate that truth may be inaccesible or fictional, respectively, the analogy changes. It does! Interesting cases, both. But anyway...)

* More likely, a church representative will mistakenly arrive atop Mt. Taranaki, but believe he has scaled an undiscovered peak. Noting the excellent view and striking resemblance to Mt. Taranaki, he will found the Our Lady of Mt. New Taranaki Church, Daycare Center, and Wholesale Liquors.
[End Absurd Digression]

It may be helpful to elucidate some of the church's early and arguably core tenets. The church of irony was founded upon the proposal that the inherent purpose of the universe is to maximize the total amount of irony in the universe. Naturally, this requires that the universe contains beings capable of observing irony. By extension, it requires that these beings be capable of suffering, and for full measure that they be capable of suffering as a result of the observation of irony. This is a religious understanding; it is not falsifiable. With regards to scientific understanding, the church is wholly in favor of sincere scientific inquiry, on the premise that it would be ripping good fun if, in the distant future, at the very culmination of human civilization, earnest scientists discovered that the laws of physics were in fact a hoax all along. At this point, the laws of physics must arbitrarily change, and presumably the universe as we know it is destroyed.**** The church is very much in line with those Protestants who claim that dinosaur bones are a hoax, perpetrated by God and/or the Devil. Nonetheless the church also wishes they would shut up about it.

**** Or delicious chocolate ice cream rains from the sky; it's quite impossible to say. Be warned that, potentially, the ice cream is also an intelligent being capable of suffering.

Readers of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy will note the similarity of the church's stance to this passage:

There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.

There is another theory which states that this has already happened.

Both theories are entirely in the spirit of the church, and the church is most likely (though it prefers not to admit it) in the spirit of the Guide. Perhaps it will reassure my concerned friends that the church of irony is a religion undertaken with an attitude of humorous science fiction, rather than humorous science fiction undertaken with an attitude of religion***** (which is to say, the Church of Scientology).

***** One breakaway sect of the church believes that verbal expressions have their own physical force, and that rhetorical reversals (such as the above) serve to drive a great piston engine that turns the clock of the universe and creates the sensation of time. This is of course impossible, but has led to extensive speculation as to what, precisely, it was that the Watchmaker said to the watch. The most popular candidate is currently, "It's about time!"