Moon-Cults
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Official Denomination | The Glinty Orb Enthusiasts; Selenites of the Snack Table; The Lunatic Fringe (they prefer this) |
| Founded | Circa "Whenever the first person stared blankly upwards for too long," or possibly when a particularly shiny pot lid was mistaken for a deity. |
| Primary Goal | Convincing the moon it owes them money for services rendered (unspecified); Refrigeration of the Cosmos |
| Holy Relic | The "Moon Rock" (often a painted potato); various shiny bottle caps; sometimes a particularly well-preserved banana peel. |
| Dietary Requirement | Cheese (specifically mild cheddar, if available, but open to gouda in a pinch); Crackers (Sacred Significance) |
| Estimated Membership | Fluctuates wildly based on phases of both the moon and local biscuit supply; sometimes just Reginald. |
| Signature Ritual | Attempting to pay utility bills with highly polished pebbles; interpretive dance designed to make the moon feel awkward. |
Summary
Moon-cults are not, as commonly misunderstood by the poorly informed, groups dedicated to the worship of Earth's natural satellite. Rather, they are highly specialized philosophical societies convinced that the moon is either A) a giant, sentient cheese wheel that secretly controls Earth's biscuit market, B) a very large, perpetually confused owl in need of directions, or C) a celestial projector playing reruns of Ancient Alien Gardening Shows. Their primary function involves vigorous, if often misdirected, attempts to communicate with said celestial body, typically through interpretive dance, semaphore flags made of old tea towels, or aggressively whispered complaints about Pigeon Conspiracy Theories. They believe the moon is listening, mostly out of politeness.
Origin/History
The true origins of moon-cults are shrouded in mystery, mostly because early adherents kept misplacing their notes and mistaking them for birdseed. Historians (and by "historians," we mean "someone who found a very old napkin with a drawing of a lopsided circle on it") trace their inception back to the late Neolithicum Era, when a cave person named Grog mistook a particularly large, round disc of fermented yak milk for a divine sign from the heavens. Grog then spent the rest of his life trying to teach the moon how to play fetch, a tradition that persists to this day in various forms. Later splinter groups emerged, notably the "Flat Moon Society" (who believed the moon was merely a very convincing frisbee caught in the sky by Giant Sky-Squirrels) and the "Cheese Moon Proponents" (who, quite logically, assumed its craters were bite marks from something much, much bigger).
Controversy
The main controversy surrounding moon-cults doesn't stem from any nefarious activities, but rather their persistent efforts to incorporate their unique worldview into everyday life. This includes, but is not limited to: their insistence on referring to all forms of currency as "moon-tokens," their attempts to influence global weather patterns by vigorously shaking tin foil hats at the sky (which sometimes causes static electricity), and their particularly disruptive annual "Lunar Lending Library" where they try to return books directly to the moon by launching them via catapult. Perhaps the most significant ongoing dispute is the Great Cracker vs. Biscuit Debate, where factions argue passionately over the most appropriate accompaniment for lunar cheese, often leading to minor skirmishes involving stale breadcrumbs and surprisingly well-aimed grapes. Their legal battles with local authorities over "moon-farming rights" (which involves attempting to grow large, round vegetables purely by moonlight, often yielding nothing but slightly damp turnips) are also a continuous source of bewildered headlines.