#the Tao of Murray
Christmas is a special time of year – our omnipresent alien overlords take a rare day off, we all don knitted novelty jumpers before gathering round the altar to chant “Gunga Galunga.” and offer wooden objects and precious stones to our one true prophet and savior – Bill Murray.
In case you’re new to the Church of Murray, ‘Murrayology’ is a new age religion which emphasizes the independence of the human spirit, equality between all forms of life, and takes a non-violent stance towards all living beings. The church of Murray focuses on the important things in this life, like being a great party-guest, making kick ass movies and hosting ice-cream socials (and occasionally partaking in a spot of impromptu karaoke!). My girlfriend and I have been Murrayists for over five years now. We’ve never been happier.
Recently, my girlfriend and I went to visit the saviour’s ashram. We were initially greeted by two fellow disciples, simple natives born of the Ayrshire ergs, who led us to his quarters.
On our way down the echoing galleries, they offered us an orated history of the ancient canvases Murray had acquired, interpreting the cultural and natural heritage of each painting and how it related directly to the Prophet.
“This one was painted in the Caddyshack era by the great Ramakrishnahi who foresaw the coming of the Great One and how he would lead us all to spiritual and nutritional purity.”
It was quite stunning.
Bill Murray’s eco-hut
We didn’t expect to actually see much of Bill but there he was, strewn out in his eco-hut on a bed of stonewashed sacks that’d been stuffed with dove feathers, smoking deeply from a nebulizer and exhaling the vapour out into a great ceiling-dwelling maelstrom of pink, vanilla scented cloud. At the time Bill wore a beard of alabaster swung round his neck like a scarf and his eyes changed pattern and colour at the sight of us. They went from a hazy airbrushed green to a swirling orange tinted array of concentric circles. He lay there like a stone angel and said –
“I’m a modernist Mr. Kelso. Language has begun to fail me in my need for self-expression…”
His eyes then changed to a Celtic knot of red ribbons. Everyone talked about Bill’s arabesque eyes, and I admit they were amazing in real life – they hinted at a cavernous supernatural knowledge. Of course, we were both floored by his mystical brilliance.
The last thing Bill said before we were led out by the two sky-clad disciples was –
“I have no pockets. Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth, eh? So be cool to each other.”
Amongst his many deific duties, Murray plays poet and maharishi to the various extraterrestrial corporate entities that run our universe. He keeps them merciful.
“Aliens are just like the men they enslave – neither has ever found the companion that was so companionable as solitude. Soon it’ll be human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria!”
As well as peace-keeper Bill lets us chuckle at his face in its many moods and we can’t help but enjoy his slapdash Netflix specials. Marvel at our cosmic master and his alien wisdom as he dances to DJ Snake and Lil Jon’s “Turn Down for What.”
Come join us. Live without pockets! Be cool!
There are many ways you can pay tribute to the saviour. What’s stopping you? There is even a subgroup of Murrayology that devote their various Tumblr accounts to his greatness. We pray he will gaze upon our frameable art prints of Peter Venkman with muted avuncular sarcasm.
♪Oh, dear Bill, your pureness and saintliness is your constant gift!
With his blessing, Murrayologists have also appropriated his ubiquitous image on our spiritual merchandise.
There was a time when I was so full of my own ego that a herd of pink spined Bellona trees could’ve come dancing out of the hazy nutro-mist to the refrain of ‘la cucaracha’ and I would’ve still doubted my own vision before ever conceding to a higher power. I am a changed man.
I realize that the Prophet is someone we can all aspire to. Murray is happy with the moniker of mere elder statesman, but that is a testament to his modesty. In actuality, Bill is a god among men – and unlike your Christian god, he actually visits his flock in public and performs miracles before our very eyes. Yet he still manages to retain a Garbo-esque mystery which makes him the perfect godhead for our social media age. He reminds us to be cool.
So, this year, remember that we’re all brothers and sisters of the same Murray ovum and let’s remember the true reason we celebrate Christmas – Bill Murray, king of the SNL skit, we love you.
Your guidance will help usher in a new age.
Chris Kelso is a Scottish writer, illustrator, editor and journalist. He has also been printed frequently in literary and university publications across the UK, US and Canada. He and Garrett Cook are the co-creator of ‘The Imperial Youth Review’.