BY 1870 STAFF
Some of us know the cult life all too well
We’re a couple of months and a few mental breakdowns into the 2019-2020 school year. By now, most students have gotten into the swing of things. They know what lectures to skip, what frats to avoid, where to get free food, and how to walk upright past their OAs after a night of Natties. But you aren’t like the rest of them, because you want more in your life. So, you want to get more involved on campus.
Ohio State prides itself on the more than 1,300 clubs available to students. You can join anything from an accounting association to a zoology club.
But why limit yourself?
Now, while it’s great to stick to your standard, straight-and-narrow clubs (great resumé builders), sometimes it’s fun to experiment.
What you won’t find listed on Ohio State’s website are the more than 300 campus cults.
Bottom line—you’ve got choices. There are the religious ones. The quasi-religious ones—the quasi-sadistic religious ones. The instrumental (drum circles and all that) ones. Of course, there are the traditional ones (murdering-while-nude required). Or, when your OCHEM finals roll around, one of the end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it cults may be up your alley.
There’s a lot that goes into choosing your cult—your new family. Ask yourself if you want to at least think about the kids with cancer when gyrating bestially on Chad after paying your annual tithe of $250 to the largest cult on campus. Or whether you believe the ends justify the means when sugar-daddy-ing money into your undergraduate campaign to fund those in-dorm mental health services you promised your fellow Buckeyes.
Putting thought into it now will save you from, what I would assume to be, an embarrassing confession that you, in fact, are not going to be cremated and then launched into the ether to colonize and populate planets in the Andromeda galaxy.
And when shit hits the fan, you’ll want good, friendly people to curl up, share your lucid dreams, and throw back that cyanide-punch with.
You’ll also want people who are dedicated to the cause no matter what. No one wants a slacker right when you’re about to go down on a squealing piglet.
And you’re going to want family members who are, let’s just say, well-equipped. You’ll spend most of your time with your naked ass cheeks sticking to a linoleum floor, taking phat rips off a bubbler— you’ll want a lot to look at.
So, think carefully and keep an open mind.
“But aren’t cults bad?” I hear you, a sexually repressed and closedminded college student, ask.
You know, I’ll be the first to say it, cults haven’t had the best reputation. Manson and Jim Jones really haven’t done us any favors. But those guys were the bad kind of crazy.
The good crazy cults can be a helluva lot of fun. Just keep an open mind. Sooner or later, you’ll be jumping naked through fire, high on a cocktail of coke and Special K in Bricker Hall, while chanting “Carmen, Ohio” in Sanskrit.
Cults are great because they don’t limit who you can be or what you want to do. I’ve seen my fair share of cult life and I never get bored. Cults keep you fresh.
Have I been reincarnated through an ag-campus calf’s anus? On seven occasions. Mutilated my body to show loyalty? I no longer have the tip of my left nipple or my bottom eyelashes. Preyed on confused, helpless freshmen? Oh, please, I’m in a cult, not H20 Church.
And cults aren’t dangerous things to be afraid of or hide away from.
I mean, why are we so comfortable with frats and sororities? They’re just one fire ritual and bible verse away from being a mediocre cult.
Look, the next time you see a sorority with girls that look like a cut-and-paste version of Brittany Spears during her drug-induced breakdown, call me up and tell me which makes you heebie-jeebies more.
At least cults know what they are.
Yes—straight up—you’ll have to partially remove your gooch. And you can be sure, at some point, you’ll do a body shot off a 2-week-dead hairless Hungarian man. At least he’ll already be stiff—no surprises. (Just a little moldy.)
So, if you’re looking for a fresh way to make new friends, experiment with drugs you’ve never heard of, have unprotected sex in positions your overly-sexed mother doesn’t even know, or lose dignity by building “character,” consider joining a local cult today. If it’s not the best four years of your life, at least it’s the last four years of your life.