The Top Ten Reasons Roboreaganology Is Better Than Christianity

As the High Exchequer and Spiritual Guru of the Church of the Immortal Robot Reagan, I often get asked, “What makes your faith, which by all admissions started as nothing more than a moneymaking scheme, superior to faiths like Christianity, Islam, Judaism, or Elvisism, that have been around for hundreds if not thousands of years?” In addition, many people wonder whether a faith centered on the eventual return of Ronald Reagan has anything of value or relevance to the modern world. Take heart, my flock, for although these are uncertain economic times, Roboreaganology shall guarantee prosperity and peace for us all (except those dirty rotten Communists, that is – and Ted Kennedy).

Sadly, all of life’s answers shall have to be revealed at a later date, with the publication of Robonetics: Your Guide to the Immortal Robot Reagan, which shall reveal (some of) our church’s tenets and core beliefs; this tome will be available soon from Simon and Schuster for the low price of $54.95 (praise Capitalism!). The rest of the secrets of the universe will also be available in inspirational seminars hosted by none other than Nancy Reagan herself, for a reasonable fee, of course (“reasonable” being defined as “whatever the hell the Chef feels like charging at the moment and/or needs to finish this month’s payment on his yacht”). Yes, the secrets of the universe can be yours and help you unlock your true capitalist potential.

However, for those who are not yet initiated into our faith and are not yet privy to the fundamental truths of existence that Roboreaganology teaches, I can share a small sampling of the wisdom of the ages, namely a brief list of the reasons that you should switch religions to one that truly speaks for the modern age.

Ten Reasons Roboreaganology Is Better Than Christianity

Praise Capitalism!
This artist’s rendering depicts Our Lord Reagan
on the day He arises in cybernetic splendor.
Praise Capitalism!

1. Jellybeans For Communion: Although not widely known, jellybeans are in fact one of the five major food groups, and were created by the Prophet Adam Smith. In remembrance of the great prophet’s vision, which foretold the coming of the Governor, we eat these sacred candy beans. And they’re much tastier than that bread and wine crap the local cross-prayers force down your throat.

2. Tolerance Toward Cyborgs: Unlike some other religious paths, which preach intolerance and bigotry toward cyborgs because of their “unconventional lifestyles”, we at the Church of the Immortal Robot Reagan accept our bionic brethren into the fold.

3. Economic Prosperity: In the 1980s, Reagan brought economic prosperity to America. With your faith, He can give you that prosperity, too.

4. A Risen Robot Savior: While, yes, we admit that that Jesus guy might have come back from the dead, the Reagan is going to return from the grave as a robotic combination of flesh and steel. A cyborg messiah is so much more real and believable than one who merely ascended into heaven and transcended the flesh.

5. Reagan Really Existed: There is more documented proof that our Savior the Reagan existed (and will therefore rise again) than other religions’ messiahs. There are no videotapes of Jesus (or, for that matter, Buddha or Mohamed) giving speeches and confronting the Evil Empire.

6. Dealing With The Money-Changers: Why bother driving the money-changers out of the temple when you can impose a surcharge on their transactions, then use the money to further the Great Reagan’s will?

7. Pat Robertson Isn’t One Of Us: Enough said, really. While Pat liked Ronnie well enough in life, he disapproves of our movement (or would, if he knew we existed), as it would cut into the number of people worshiping him and sending him money. Isn’t that the only reason you need?

8. No More Wimpy Tithes: Christianity only asks for a mere ten percent of your income. We at the Church of the Immortal Robot Reagan start at 15% and even go so far as to charge admission to our worship services! Praise Capitalism!

9. Chick Tracts? We Have Maitre d’ Tracts!: Really, if your fringe religion’s whacko tracts preaching the impending return of your messiah aren’t written by a man in a suit wielding a chainsaw, what’s the point?

10. A Much More Charismatic Leader: While yes, much of this list applies only to Protestant denominations, we shall take this time to compare the leaders of Catholicism and Roboreaganology. Pope Benedict bears a disturbing resemblance to Emperor Palpatine. The Chef does not. Enough said.

In Closing…

If these ten reasons fail to convince you to follow in the footsteps of the Great Reagan, then perhaps you really should consider buying our book and reading it, as its magnificence is beyond compare (that, and the Chef needs the money to finish paying off that vacation house in Hawaii).

About The Chef

The Chef was born 856 years ago on a small planet orbiting a star in the Argolis cluster. It was prophesied that the arrival of a child with a birthmark shaped like a tentacle would herald the planet's destruction. When the future Chef was born with just such a birthmark, panic ensued (this would not be the last time the Chef inspired such emotion). The child, tentacle and all, was loaded into a rocket-powered garbage scow and launched into space. Unfortunately, the rocket's exhaust ignited one of the spectators' flatulence, resulting in a massive explosion that detonated the planet's core, destroying the world and killing everyone on it.

The Chef.
Your host, hero to millions, the Chef.
Oblivious, the dumpster containing the infant Chef sped on. It crashed on a small blue world due to a freakish loophole in the laws of nature that virtually guarantees any object shot randomly into space will always land on Earth. The garbage scow remained buried in the icy wastes of the frozen north until the Chef awoke in 1901. Unfortunately, a passing Norwegian sailor accidentally drove a boat through his head, causing him to go back to sleep for another 23 years.

When the would-be Chef awoke from his torpor, he looked around at the new world he found himself on. His first words were, “Hey, this place sucks." Disguising himself as one of the planet's dominant species of semi-domesticated ape, the being who would become known as the Chef wandered the Earth until he ended up in its most disreputable slum - Paris, France.

Taking a job as a can-can dancer, the young Chef made a living that way until one day one of the cooks at a local bistro fell ill with food poisoning (oh, bitter irony). In a desperate move, the bistro's owner rushed into one of the local dance halls, searching for a replacement. He grabbed the ugliest can-can dancer he could find, and found himself instead with an enterprising (if strange) young man who now decided, based on this random encounter, to only answer to the name “Chef".

His success as a French chef was immediate (but considering that this is a country where frogs and snails are considered delicacies, this may or may not be a significant achievement). Not only was the Chef's food delicious, it also kept down the local homeless population. He rose to the heights of stardom in French cuisine, and started a holy war against the United Kingdom to end the reign of terror British food had inflicted on its citizens.

When the Crimean War broke out around France, the Chef assisted Nikola Tesla and Galileo in perfecting the scanning electron microscope, which was crucial in driving back the oncoming Communist hordes. It would later be said that without the Chef, the war would have been lost. He was personally awarded a Purple Heart by the King of France.

After that, the Chef traveled to America, home of such dubious culinary delights as McDonald's Quarter Pounder With Cheese. He immediately adopted the Third World nation as his new home, seeing it as his job to protect and enlighten it. When the Vietnam War began, he immediately volunteered and served in the Army of the Potomac under Robert E. Lee and General Patton. During the war, the Chef killed dozens of Nazis, most of them with his bare hands.

Marching home from war across the floor of the Atlantic Ocean, stark-naked and freezing, the Chef wound up on the shores of Mexico. He spent several years there, drinking tequila with Pancho Villa and James Dean. He put his culinary skills to the test when he invented the 5,000-calorie Breakfast Chili Burrito With Orange Sauce (which is today still a favorite in some parts of Sonora).

Eventually, the Chef returned to his adopted home of America, where he met a slimy, well-coiffed weasel who was starting up a new kind of buffet - one dedicated to providing the highest-quality unmentionable appetizers to the online community. The Chef dedicated himself to spreading the word of his famous Lard Sandwich (two large patties of fried lard, in between two slices of toasted buttered lard, with bacon and cheese), as well as occasionally writing about his opinions on less-important topics than food.

Every word of this is true, if only in the sense that every word of this exists in the English language.