Instinctively I avoid, no, I actively dislike, the things that are very popular and trendy, you know, that “hot” thing that, if you’re into it, will make you cool. I adhere to this life strategy because going where the in-crowd goes, liking what the easily-influenced majority likes would make me a sheep. I dislike something, mostly, because you like it. I know this habit is petty and negative and juvenile and contrary and immature and polarizing … and … super fun and empowering. For most of my life, zigging when the sheep zag has just been a personality flaw, but today, in 2019 it is producing tangible, life-saving benefits.

That’s because many of the things that the crowd gloms onto in great numbers in the pursuit of being cool have literally become dangerous, real-world cults.

This is no joke, man! Here, let me define cult for you, “A cult is a system of near-religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object,” or stated another way, “A cult cultivates misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular thing.”

Sound familiar? Do you see cult-like devotion every day and around every corner? I do. And it’s not because I hang around the Manson Family, no, it’s because I’m hyper-aware of my surroundings and I’m naturally appalled by the things that posers really dig.

If we label these cults here and now then maybe one of your loved ones or offspring can be saved … remember, what you’re trying to identify and then discourage is misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular thing.

The most pervasive, hideous and stomach-turning example of the modern cult is the Macintosh, Apple or “iCult” founded by a high priest name Steve Jobs. For decades wayward geeks and brainwashed commoners have been genuflecting at the Jobs alter. They will purchase anything he tells them to purchase (he speaks to his cult members from the grave) and they will stand in line for the pleasure of overpaying for cult trinkets. They’ll pay a ridiculous amount of money on any product or service with an “i” in front of it. iToaster? “I’ll take it.” iLawnmower? “You bet.” An iPlant that comes with its own iWater? “I’ll take two.” iLasagna? “I must be the first cult member to consume this.”

People so easily and completely controlled need to be avoided. I’ve seen people at work go on a hunger strike to force management into giving them an “iCult” computer. Poor brainwashed bastards. “iCult” sheep believe possessing “iCult” objects makes them magically shrewd and talented as a designer or a creative type. They routinely masterbate in the presence of Apple computing devices … an iHandjob? “Why not.” It’s demented and sickening.

All of the modern cults share the same characteristics, namely, they have convinced members that it’s smart to pay twice the price for something that does the same exact thing as the generic model.

The vehicle known as the Tesla has become a motorized cult. Drivers of this glorified golf cart are richer than you, they look in the review mirror to check their hair more than you and they think they’re the smartest motherfuckers on earth because they drive a car that goes fast while making no noise. This combination of factors along with the fact that they think an electric car makes them an electrical engineer creates the perfect storm for the formation of a cult. Nikola Tesla would be mortified if he knew his name was being used with Ouija Boards in midnight seances by a gang of douchebags geeking out on electricity and mutual funds. A dangerous, elitist cult to be sure.

Starbucks is a cult. Its members are strung out on caffeine and whipped cream and they get off on seeing their name written on a paper cup in black felt-tip pen.

Coffee bean-fixated freaks. In Columbia Juan Valdez toils in the humid forests, picking 700,000 beans by hand to earn a lousy dollar while American women pay fifteen dollars for a tall cup that contains three drops of coffee plus non-fat milk and vitamin-enriched foam and syrup from Sumatra and wheat grass and who knows what else whereby they can shake their flabby, Spandex-covered asses toward the exits while they slander their ex-husbands. If you go into a Starbucks look the fuck out, the Starbucks cultists are always on the prowl for new members … and the next thing you know you’ll be involved in a home-invasion robbery in Burbank.

Life was so much simpler when the cults were limited to compounds in Waco, Texas. Now the Koolaid is consumed at car dealerships and coffee joints and at CompUSA. Be careful, the price of running with the hip crowd could very well be your mind.

Photo credit: Phototravelography on Visualhunt / CC BY