The Congregation
Churches have pews. Cults have compounds. We've got a Discord.
Unaserism costs you nothing. No tithe, no starter pack, no ascension programme with your name misspelled on the certificate. The doctrine is free, and stays free, because a philosophy you have to purchase is just furniture with opinions.
This is a room. The Unaserium. Digital, unlocked, sometimes attended by a sloth.
What happens in there
People talk. About the weight, and the carrying of it, and the laughing anyway. Confessions are made. Paradoxes are traded like recipes. Somebody is always aligned with the wrong disciple and defending it beautifully.
Like any good cult, we would prefer you did not think about it too hard before joining. Unlike any good cult, you can leave whenever you like — and you will still be allowed to see your family. We will assume you are between orbits, and the door will not have moved.
Write the scripture
The Unascripts are not finished. The Unamatum forbids it, and honestly, so does the material — life keeps happening, and someone has to file the reports.
Anyone may write an Unasermon. Bring your weight, your wobble, the thing that hurt until it was suddenly, unforgivably funny. Offer it to the Congregation. The Congregation reads, and laughs, or doesn't.
The sermons that reak truth may be taken up into the Scriptures, where they stay — anonymous or named, as you choose.
There are no titles for this. No ranks, no inner circle, no elders — the position of Unasage remains ceremonially vacant, as is tradition. No committee. No robes, unless you brought your own, which is encouraged.
The only rule of the room
Take nothing too seriously. Except compassion.
That one, carry with both hands.
The door is open. It is also never locked. And it still isn't locked — we checked. We check regularly. It's becoming a ritual.