Religious by Design

Tidy religion is pure fantasy. When I think back on my Catholic upbringing, I picture clouds over Lake Erie like bruises. Wet blacktop and palm ash. Ozone and frankincense. You can break away from the Catholic Church, but you can't tear down the Catholic Church inside your head. It flagellates the brain until it cuts in deep. Nowadays, I can't have a thought without dragging it over some Latin phrase or Catholic guilt. Even after leaving the church as a teenager. It sticks around. Religion is a ragged thing. A bleeding kaleidoscope of myths, scars, and memories. It's no wonder most world-building starts with religion. But I've found fantasy religion to be fiction at its most fictional. Too simple. Too tidy. A unicorn is more grounded than the worship of Pelor, Cthulhu, or any other fantasy pantheon. When I was a kid, I was terrified of church. It was the statues and decoration. Most Protestant faiths do away with the iconography and symbolism. In theory, it provides a more pure…