The Cult of the Unicorn

Prologue:

To understand the Cult of the Unicorn the journalist asks the reader to join her in the eagle’s nest.  My aerie is five feet in diameter with a weight of nearly a ton.  Because it is necessary to soar to the greater heights required for writing with clarity, this nest is situated high upon a mountain and secured within the craggy face of a rock.  You are safe within my nest. I am your host.   But now I am asking you to trust me.  Join me on this flight. Let’s soar into the world of imagination. It is time to ponder the cult of the unicorn.

The Hills:

It happened in an instant of time.   The man stepped out of his bed one morning and had his final moment of illumination.  Hastily moving into his walk-in closet he stood in front of a shrine of sorts, a full length mirror which he vigorously cleaned several times a day. It was true! The creature was there, no longer hiding from his view, but on full display.  He was a unicorn!  He could sense it in the rhythm of his body and the beat of his heart. There was no denial of what the soothsayer (otherwise known as his psyche) was telling him.  He was a unicorn!

During the following year the man did all he could to locate other unicorns.  He found a few who sported the cloven hooves of the goat. By networking with his fellow mystical creatures he was able to find the necessary two sets  at a costly price.  Donning his hooves, he worked in the privacy of his home to walk on all fours. Over time he learned to prance, maintain a gait, and even gallop along on his hooves.

Networking a bit more he was able to find a lovely lion’s tail.  The tail root was golden in color and it changed to a lovely burnt orange until reaching the claw of the tail which was a rich bronze.

The man actually spent the following decade working to acquire the piece de resistance, the tusk of a narwhal, which a craftsman transformed into a beautiful horn of a cubit and half in length. Locating a physician who was willing to embed the thing into his forehead, the man spared no expense to complete his transformation.  Returning home he stood in front of his shrine and admired himself.  Ahh, yes!  It was good to be a unicorn!

The Plains:

Over the years, more and more unicorns made their appearance in polite society. I say polite society, because we must not state the obvious. We are looking at a man with a long horn sticking out of his forehead. Secretly we think, “What sorrow is this which is brought forth from the soul of man?”  In whispers, we ask our closest friends, “Should we not be vexed by that which needs to be healed?”  But our polite president has supported the unicorns throughout his presidency. He has made himself the law-giver: We must accommodate bathrooms, dressing rooms, and school locker rooms for the unicorns. The unicorns must be allowed to be what they imagine themselves to be at the shrine to the self.

The Valley:

So it was that one day a man and a woman now fully exposed to the cult of the unicorn gave birth to a son.  Looking at his small, naked frame, and lightly touching his forehead they both smiled as they looked at each other.  “We have given birth to a unicorn!”

The Depths:

Those who worship within the cult of the unicorn have been with us since the beginning of time.  They have been on the edges of society throughout history.  Yet now through the knavery and insensibilities of our American president, lifestyles are elevated and enshrined to the point that our very children are endangered.  It is one thing for an individual to worship at the shrine of their choice. But it is unconscionable that Americans are being coerced to also worship at a shrine which many of us consider harmful to the greater good of healthy society. It is oppressive, that the executive branch seeks to legally persecute those who refuse to worship at the unicorn’s shrine.

And what about the children?  What of the small children who are convinced by a polluted cult that it is o.k. to seek to fundamentally transform the very nature bestowed by the Creator?  At what point do we submit that the image of truth projected by President Obama is not really truth, but a carefully nurtured deceit?

 
At what point do we call it child abuse?  Is it not child abuse to seek the mutilation of the genitals of a child, the introduction of hormone therapy, the multiple surgical procedures required for a transgender transformation?

Should there not be pity? And should such pity not seek out the emotional and psychological healing for those who believe they are unicorns?

Thank you for taking flight with me today. We have viewed the hills, the plains, the valleys and depths.  We are safely back in the nest.  As you return to your home nest take that look in your own mirror. Be grateful for God’s design for your life.

Link to published text