I was watching an episode of Counting Cars (it’s fascinating, even if I don’t understand half of what they say). This guy was getting a tattoo of the Second Amendment inked over his right shoulder. He mentioned he’d like a tandem car, one with  flags, slogans, Constitutional snippets and a Minuteman, flexing like a Mr. Universe contestant,  sneering over the hood. The guy wanted it to be the muscle of all muscle cars. Up to $120,000. He should have included at least a teeny thank-you to the First Amendment, which gives all Americans the right to be stupid.

Still, should a passing pigeon decide to bless you with a liquid-marshmallow breakfast on your Corvette hood, there’s not a gun in the world that will shoot that holy water from the sky.

But I have a right, as well. And, as an ordained minister (credentialed in Arkansas, for god’s sake; you really haven’t heard of Google, huh?), I herby announce the birth of Aesopism. So I guess our Holy Day will be May 2nd (4:32 p.m., Pacific Coast Time).

Like the bible, torah and koran and tipitaka, there shall be an Aesoptic Sacred Text, The Fable of the Sun and North Wind. Unlike those insomnia-fixers, ours shall be simple.

It is a well-known Aesop fable, but our religion shall also be accurate. The text is below:

The Sun and North Wind had a bet over who was stronger. To settle the wager, they tried to remove a man’s cloak. The Wind blew as hard as it could, trying to whip it, force it off the human. But the harder it blew, the tighter the man clung. The Sun slowly warmed the man until he removed the cloak.

That’s it. The only Aesopian code of conduct.

Should the believer choose (choice underscores all preachings), there is an Optional Dining Grace: “Blessed Whatzit, thank you for today, and please let us chew your bounty with closed mouths.”

We accept all faiths, creeds, colors, sexes, genders, life choices and hairstyles. Animals, too, and all shall be eligible for the Aesopian highest order:  The Sinning-But-Trying.

Being forward-thinking, we shall have a slogan, perfect for bumper stickers: “Like religion, without the dummies.”

There shalt be but One Commandment: Thou shalt not selfie.

Our gospel and chorus are below: