So there we were, Discordians in the year 2008 or 2009. There was an internet forum for a while, but the party raged on for the entire 50thish year of grand and glory old Discordja. Nobody's really sure exactly when Eris began her return, it could have been either either 1958 or 1959, so we're counting 2008-2009 as a sort of bigass 50th anniversary.

This should go without saying, but it's been a strange year.

We made up this opensource magazine called Intermittens which anyone can write. We threw a Jake Day that convinced Stephen Colbert to join our sect of the Bavarian Illuminati. We tore Discordia apart like a pack of wild dogs. Saint Mae buried her at Kallisticon. And now Eris is Returning, the sacred chaos are coming home. We stand hand in hand in Aftermath.

I've been searching for the Discordian Society since I first read the Principia at (about) age 16. I always wondered if it was just this group of heads who hung out before I was born? Is there an actual network of cabals, exchanging weirdness by mail and collaborating on massive mindfucks? How many self-identified Discordians are there, anyway?

I began sending out signals, feelers, setting up sign posts for the others to find. I figured that if there wasn't really a Discordian society, I'd just act like there was. Irreligious LARP solitaire. I've mailed weirdness to other cabals. I flew out to Portland, Oregon to meet some of the lunatic left coasters. I attended a Discordian caucus in which 23 of us (?!) gathered to swap smalltalk. I've been to the edge of the internet and back. And DAMN, we are some crazy people.

But that's just the spags who identify with this word "Discordian". There's more of us. I'm talking about the creative, chaotic, electric slice of the population who you'd never in a million years confuse with grayface or a cabbage. There's scads of awesome people out there who are one of us even if they don't know it yet.

And sadly, a lot of us are lost. Disorder can be a lonely, scary, confusing place. Some aren't excited by the notion of being a freak or an outsider. The silver lining: this is the century of freaks and outsiders. A Discordian priestess once told me she feels it's her responsibility to help people cope with their weirdness. We're the clergy for the strange.

On this journey I met an odd cloaked figure. He wouldn't tell me his name (he said it wasn't supposed to be spoken out loud), but he took my manuscript. "I'm sure the Illuminati would love to get their hands on this," he said with a wink. I never saw him again. Months later, I'd find a CD on my doorstep. The entire book had been layed out. It was finally over.

We closed up the gates of limbo peak and staggered away from the smoking aftermath of the party.

These Gods were retired, but nevertheless, it would be a good idea to lay low for a while. Dionysus looked at all the empty and broken bottles and sobbed quietly. Athena and Ares stopped in their tracks and when they saw the library. We could hear Artemis shrieking in the garden outside. It was time to go.

"You know, old man," I said, tossing Zeus the keys, "you got a nice little club house up here. Great spot for a party. I can't help but feel we forgot to invite someone though..." I thought he was going to strike me down on the spot. Everybody knew Eris had been here.