Personal Gospel of The Hot Dog
Or what to do with a bunless hot dog when you meet one!
When Eris got the Original Snub - and if that term is unfamiliar, you haven't been reading the pamphlets they're leaving - She found great relief by partaking of a Hot Dog. Some would speculate as to the condiments or lack, there of. I might like to think that She slathered it in barbecue sauce and onion, so that it would taste of the elusive McRib... but I digress.
When Malaclypse the Younger revealed himself to us, he distinctly told us to partake of hot dogs, especially on Fridays, but to omit the standard bun; 'for Such was the Solace of Our Goddess when She was Confronted with The Original Snub'. Now I love a hot dog. Where as most people go for the package that clarifies 'All Beef', I go for the most obscure packaging that leads one to believe that every nether region of poultry, pork, and beef is used. I like the feeling of danger one feels when they could be ingesting spleen and foot. Feet are high in sole, and this helps to keep the Sacred Cow perfectly imbalanced.
But what of the bun... or rather, the lack thereof?
Some may say that reasonable substitutes are white bread, pitas, croisants, pie crust, filo dough, angel food cake, oatmeal cookies, cardboard, or banana peels. These all seem unreasonable, enough, so I see why Eris would bless all of these. I, however, like to wrap my hot dog in oxygen. It is very rarely that we are given such an outright phallic symbol, let alone one to eat. Did you know that the hot dog stood bunless for a long time? Yes! It was actually missionaries who brought the bun to the 'savages'; buns and underwear were the gifts of the missionaries. So now everyone just thinks that they have to wear underwear and bun their dogs, but they've never investigated the reasoning for either.
That's why I say liberate the hot dog.
Eris loves a good bun, but I would assume it's for no reason such as concealing the 'phalli'. Carbs eased the Snub and fueled the Cow. But Eris knew that we would check Her fridge and long for the bun, and so She made it so that no bun manufacturer could ever put the same number of buns in a bag as there are hot dogs in a package. Indeed, the numbers never match. Some people say that is so we will buy more of one or the other, that it is a big conspiracy cooked up by the same people who wrote the line 'My bologna has a first name'. WRONG! It is just the discord set into motion after the Original Snub. But those who think they live in 'order' say 'There are more hot dogs than buns, so we will eat these two hot dogs on sliced bread!'. But the Cow makes it so that the children quarrel over who will have to eat the hot dogs on sliced bread. The Cow Prevails!
I often look to the Saints to find the answers to some of these hidden mysteries, and they often direct me to Their answering service. St. Alice the Mirror Traveler did once leave a message with Her secretary to be given to me. I paraphrase, of course: 'There were no hot dog buns at the Mad Tea Party! It was curious at first, and then I thought it all the wiser as the Mad Hatter and March Hare dip their hot dogs into the tea and it makes for a soggy bun.' When I heard the message, my faith in the fact that I, myself, had canonized St. Alice grew threefold.
So what one does or doesn't do with their hot dogs will, of course, always be personal discretion. But for the good hearted Discordian, the bun should never fall into question. It shouldn't fall into periods, exclamations, comas, or your colons - for if it has fallen into the colon it has fallen too far!
And this is the gnosis bestowed upon me when I wasn't looking and when I didn't look both ways before crossing my feet. A Man.
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