A history of Western religion in ice cream

One upon a time, many aeons ago, a long way back and hidden by the mists of ages, there was a small settlement on that coastal part of the Mediterranean that we now call Africa, and in that settlement lived some gentle and wise cattle farmers who spent their days happily tending their cows.

One of the cattle farmers, however, had a more, shall we say, entrepreneurial spirit, and so he eventually came to the realisation that he wanted to develop his company, which meant diversifying out of the market for his milk, which was just a handful of his fellow villagers. So after long experimentation with milk, honey and vanilla pods, he managed to invent the most delicious ice cream. As you can imagine, his vanilla ice cream was extremely popular in such a hot, dry, arid settlement, and he made lots of money

All would have been well if it weren’t for the problem always encountered by those who are solely driven by the need to make money: they can never have enough. Our cattle farmer-ice cream man was similarly afflicted, and so although he was selling lots of his products to other villages along the north African coast very successfully, he was hungry for even more fame and fortune.

As a man used to working with cattle prods when herding his cows, he began to think in those terms as he pondered about how to get more reach for his product, and after a while, he came up with a cunning wheeze. He’d prod and goad people into buying his ice cream by promising them that if they do, they will get even more and better and sweeter and creamier ice cream after they die.

So our North African ice cream man went about telling everyone a story about where his delicious vanilla ice cream came from. It didn’t come from his dairy or from his cows, he said; it really came from the ultimate Alpha and Omega in the sky, the source of all ice cream, the Great Magnum.

The Great Magnum lived in the sky, he told them, far far away … way beyond the furthest Galaxy … in other words, so far away that no-one could go and check. But they would get to see him after they died, the people were told. However, if you didn’t buy his ice cream, he would tell them, at death you would go to a very hot place where all ice cream melts instantly into the flames. Of course, nobody wanted to go check on that either.

So various super ice cream men were appointed, to act as spokesmen for the Great Magnum. They wore upturned Cornettos on their heads, to reflect the sort of cone-shaped hierarchy they soon set about organising in that part of the world, all the better to herd their new catt….er, customers.

At first, the early prototype of the Great Magnum seemed to be a very jealous and angry God who was continually demanding bloodthirsty wars which involved the deaths and suffering and the great gnashing of teeth of millions of innocent people. However, all this mayhem made lots of money for the ice cream men, because wars are a thirsty business and require lots of ice cream. And they could also get plenty of volunteers for their various crusades with the promise of an eternity of ice cream after death.

As I’m sure you can guess, it wasn’t long before our super ice cream men, the Cornettos, became discontented with only being able to control the ice cream market on one side of the Mediterranean, and they began to talk to other men on the other side of the sea, in Rome, about creating a European market for their ice cream.

However, it was also mooted at the Council of Mr Whippy that a new, more universally-appealing ice cream flavour was needed for the European market. They eventually decided upon the heart-shaped strawberry, to represent the new Mark II Great Magnum, who’d had a remake into a much more loving God.

The ice cream men were realising that the promise of love was even more effective than guilt for manipulating people’s minds, although they still threw in a fair amount of guilt, just for good measure.

The Great Magnum in the Sky

So they created the character of the son of the Great Magnum, who was born to the Lyons Maid. His name was Strawberry Sundae, and he would show by example what love was, by turning the other cheek when the Cornettos were nasty to him, and always paying his taxes to the Cornettos in Rome. He could also perform miraculous stunts. He could walk on water. He could even turn water into ice cream!

However, the Cornettos were realising that in order to keep their market under control and always wanting more, they needed to divide them up into different camps, and find ways to pit them against each other in bloody wars. So they ratcheted up the tensions between the strawberries and the vanillas by telling a false story, which they swore was true, about how the vanillas turned Strawberry Sundae into Raspberry Ripple via Death By Chocolate.

The Cornettos became flushed with success that their clever trick worked so well, and so they were encouraged to come up with another good idea. Just to mix it up real good, they decided to invent another flavoured ice cream, the raspberry flavour … as if to blow a great big raspberry at any hope for world peace. The raspberries came in useful for cornering the ice cream market in the East, which had been previously dominated by the Skinny Cows.

Anyway, the outcome was three different flavours of the same ice cream: strawberry, vanilla and raspberry. And everyone was told at their local ice cream shop or van that their flavour of ice cream was the only true ice cream and so each would sing their own Knickerbocker Glorias to the Great Magnum in the Sky.

In this way, the Cornettos sold more ice cream than they could have ever dreamed possible, and had lots of fun in pitting the strawberry devotees in perpetual wars and crusades against the vanillas, in which they fired at each other with their Rocket lollies and Oyster grenades, and then they’d make a complete Eton Mess of it by throwing in the raspberries.

They had other tactics too:

The Second Coming of Strawberry Sundae

Sometimes, prophecies would be magically unearthed, purported to have been written long ago by earlier devotees of the Great Magnum. One such declared that one day, the strawberries would go to war against the raspberries, or that the vanillas would get a new Cornetto with an even bigger cone. Some said that the original ice cream man from North Africa, now known as Ahura Magnum, was the common ancestor to all the peoples and that even one day, Strawberry Sundae would rise again.

Of course, you would get the usual factions and schisms that you get in any large group of people. So for instance, the Sundaes would Banana Split off into lots of different other flavours like the Cherry Sundaes, Banana Sundaes and even the Third Day Adventist Chocolate Nut Sundaes. But at heart, they were all Sundaes.

Fast forward 1,000 years or so, and by now the distant descendants of Ahura Magnum had become so rich that they owned 99 per cent of the wealth of the world. But still their greed knew no bounds, and nothing less than total world domination would satisfy them.

So they needed a new plan. They knew that if they wanted to control people effectively, they would have to break up the existing order and remake it in a completely different format. In other words, they needed a new flavour ice cream. Step forward Rene de Carte D’Or rationalism and the Häagen-Dazs dialectic, and the eventual bastard child of this Unholy Marriage was: fat free, dairy free lemon sorbet.

Lemon sorbet was different from the others in that it wasn’t exactly a new flavour or even an ice cream as such; it was more like frozen flavoured water, which came as quite a refreshing relief to the jaded palates of those who’d become sick to their stomachs with so much sugary rich cream.

The lemon sorbets, however, got a bit above themselves and decided to set out to prove that the Great Magnum himself didn’t exist, which completely threw all the ice creams in disarray. The sorbets set up a number of flaming hoops which all the ice creams had to pass through before they would accept that the Great Magnum existed. And of course, it was obvious that the very idea of an Alpha and Omega Ice Cream Seller in the Sky would fall arse over tit at the first hurdle, because he’d been a complete work of fiction of Ahura Magnum from Day One!

The Promise of Eternal Knickerbocker Glorias

So the Cornettos were quite happy with the result of all this extreme confusion which caused utter cognitive dissonance all over the Earth, and throughout which they still managed to continue with their Great Ice Creams wars, known as World War 1 and World War 2…. in which millions went happily to their deaths with the promise of eternal Knickerbocker Glorias forevermore, despite the sour expression of disbelief on the faces of the lemon sorbets.

However, after all this carnage, there became less of an appetite for ice cream. Everyone had begun to wonder if they ought to go on a diet, if the ice cream they so loved was causing so much pain and suffering. The Cornettos were much perturbed at this outcome because it could only mean one thing. It meant that the people, influenced by lemon sorbetism, were starting to think for themselves. So they realised they needed to invent an even better, super-duper ice cream to enchant and hypnotise a whole new generation: Enter Ben and Jerry’s Electric Kool Aid Tutti Frutti with Ultra Psychedelic Sprinkles!

Ben and Jerry’s ice cream was welcomed with open arms for those looking for a new and exciting taste sensation, and it was widely distributed across the Western world by the CIA (the Central Ice Cream Authority) in Magical Mystery Tour buses playing the theme tune to The Magic Roundabout.
This new ice cream presented an unbeatable challenge to the lemon sorbets because it offered a completely new philosophy option. One could devote oneself to any flavour one fancied, from Chocolate Fudge Brownie, Dough-ble Whammy and Caramel Chew Chew to Baked Alaska, Peanut Butter Me Up, Karamel Sutra (only recommended for Tantrics) and Winter Berry Brownie, to mention but a few … and you could eat ice cream whenever you got the mungies.

It was utter mayhem! And now the Cornettos were in seventh Heaven.

There were now so many different ice cream religions and cults to set against each other, the Cornettos started to get very confident about a new mega ice cream war, much bigger than ever before! How did it turn out? Well….we’ll have to wait and see. The Cornettos have returned to the original home of Ahura Magnum to start a few fights and sell lots of ice cream, and there’s no telling where it will end.

Meanwhile, to the questions: Does God exist? And what is Love? How would we ever know, or even know what we think, when it has never ever been discussed in the whole history of Western religion? No, it really hasn’t.

Somebody once said that they were believed in all religions, because “all religions lead to the same place in the end.” He may be right, but I don’t agree that a single one of them leads to anywhere I want to go because they were never intended to. They were created to sell more ice cream, and ice cream, while being utterly divine, is not the same thing as God or Love. Never was. Never will be.

The Sacred Sex Rites of Ishtar

Shamanic sexual healing and sex magic

This book is about Sovereignty.

Shamans and high priestesses in Neolithic times were in touch with the spirits of the land, and so were able to transmit their wisdom to the king or pharaoh in sacred sex rites during his coronation night. These became known as the Sovereignty rites, because they fired up the king’s higher brain centres, giving him a superior intelligence and thus the ability and the right to reign.

Our ancestors have left us magical keys in their orally passed on myths which, like messages in a bottle, can help us find the way to spark up that wisdom again, in ourselves.

Ishtar Babilu Dingir is a shaman and mythologist. In this book, she has laid out the way for the ordinary person to ignite their own route to Sovereignty through shamanic sexual practises and also by learning to communicate with the spirits of the land.