The Dogma

 by The Kiwi


The Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi began as the product of two visionary and cloudy minds sharing an apartment and a funding problem, scratching their way through through the meat of their 20s just outside the burgeoning tech bubble of the post-grunge 90s.

Recognizing a get-rich-quick scheme was the only rational solution to their problems, it dawned on them that the greatest get-rich-quick scheme in all of history was religion. You needed no real product, no real results and the government doesn’t even tax you.

And the market is huge.

Named for a painting of what may or may not actually be a kiwi, a business plan for the Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi was soon developed. By undercutting our competition and offering the choice of an afterlife, we could widen our market and keep our price much lower than a traditional faith.

All of the benefits with none of the guilt or crazy rules. We added a money-back guarantee, something no other church dared to offer, and it was the perfect pre-packaged salvation for the new millennium.

With the sales pitch in place, all that was missing was the dogma, a line of bullshit we could show the government to get tax-exempt status.

And judging by what’s out there, it doesn’t even have to make much sense.

What does all of this have to do with the political and social commentary that the current, online version of the Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi provides on a regular basis?

Bellator contemno per ferrum.

So without further ado, here is the current version of the always malleable dogma of the Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi:


In the beginning there were the gods.

All of them. Hanging out.

Doing whatever it is the omnipotent and omniscient do with their free time.

And it was good.

Then, through a whole set of circumstances that don’t concern us in the least, but appear to be a total (and yet wholly amazing and remarkable) coincidence, there were humans.

And for a good long time the humans didn’t really bother anybody. And that too was good.

But about 10,000 years ago, some of the humans went a bit haywire and all of sudden felt the need for salvation and started pestering the gods for everything, especially their salvation and care of their soul.

At first, the gods enjoyed the worship and adoration and were able to deal with their human followers. But as the human population began to explode, so did the requests and the paparazzi. And it was cutting into the free time the gods so cherished.

Things were said. Demands were made. Much was taken out of context and even more was misinterpreted. There were some unfortunate … incidents.

But as time wore on, the Human Problem led to a grand round table discussion (the events of which were quite humorous and interesting and will be recounted at a later time) at which time it was decided to take the only logical step: Outsource.

Thus, the Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi was endowed with the power to handle all of the paperwork necessary for placement in the afterlife of their choice.

Our role, the Dogma, if you will, is that the gods selected the Kiwi (the tree of knowledge is not an apple…) as the way to deal with these time-consuming human souls who won’t stop worshiping them and bothering them. With stupid shit. All the time.

Because even the gods know that in order to get into their kingdom, you’re gonna have to fill out a lot of paperwork and get a background check, just to make sure you’ve got whatever ducks in a row that they require to sit at their right hand.

Or share their spaceship.

Or get back into the right human soul line.

Or whatever goofy shit it is the Scientologists believe.

The gods have empowered us, the Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi, as the middle men of the afterlife. We do the processing and the legwork. We book the rooms and we file the forms.

And since, despite what the various holy books may tell you, the real worst sin is wasting a god’s time, by booking ahead, you lock in your place in the afterlife; no fuss, no muss.

This is an important distinction: The Kiwi is not a religion, but a church. It is god’s house.


Well, gods’ house, really, as they all have unlimited credit at our bar, casino and strip club (though we do ask they tip the girls).

See, because it is not a religion, it has no strict set of rituals. It is not a true collection of spiritual beliefs.

But it is a church, similar to all the other earth-built, get-rich-quick schemes of hangers-on that piggyback on some poor deity’s fame and prestige like a rapper releasing his girlfriend’s R&B record, or a philandering former president trying to get his intern a job or his wife a White House gig.

Whatever your religion, it is welcome and you may practice it however you think your god wants you practice it.

So sure, you can keep on keeping on the way you have up to now and hope you’re doing things right with your special underwear or your special diet or your dancing naked in the snow or whatever…

But why not send us $50 just to be sure?

Hail Kiwi.

One Response to The Dogma

  1. Pingback: The Dogma of the Apocalyptic Kiwi « The Church of the Apocalyptic Kiwi

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