THE BOOK OF WHISKERS
As whiskers are a cat’s guide in life, the Book of Whiskers is the guide to the belief system known as Catakism.
I. The Belief in Cat
Human beings have a powerful need to believe, to throw themselves at the feet of something greater than they are. To worship. To adore. To make offerings and sacrifices to. To blame for not being happier, prettier, or more successful.
Throughout history, that “something greater than they are” has taken the form of volcanoes, trees, cows, stars, planets, elephants with eight arms, pharaohs, kings, totem poles, airplanes, giant phalluses, sci-fi novelists named Ron, money, and pretty much anything else not found stuck to the bottom of a shoe. Let’s just say there’s been a lot of trial and error on humanity’s part.
But, over time, man’s need to express devotion has crystallized into some deep and lasting belief systems. These belief systems have become the great isms and ologies of the world: Buddhism, Catholicism, Judaism, Hinduism; Astrology, Numerology, Dogtology, Scientology, mixology. Okay, the term “great” might not apply equally across the board here, but you get the point. There are well-known and named belief systems that are practiced by millions, even billions, of humans across the globe.
There are also unofficial beliefs that are practiced with uniform dedication by all of humankind, but they do not rise to the level of a formal religion. These include: If You Yell at Inanimate Objects Loudly Enough They Will Hear You and Obey; When You Check Your Teeth for Spinach in a Window Reflection, the Person on the Other Side of the Glass Can’t See You; and Googling Yourself on a Daily Basis Is the Secret to Eternal Happiness.
Finally, there are deep belief systems that are practiced worldwide with the rabid devotion of a true religion, but they have not yet received an official name … until now. Catakism is the greatest of such belief systems.
Over the millennia, mankind’s love of cats has risen from the simple human-to-pet relationship we enjoy with goldfish, hamsters, and parakeets to something much, much more. Kitties live in our hearts in a way we typically reserve for objects of true religious devotion.
What Is Catakism?
Catakism, in short, is mankind’s unending and near-fanatical devotion to Cat. A Catakist does not consider a cat a pet, but rather a minor deity.
Scratch that (pun intended): major deity.
Catakism is more than the mere love or “ownership” (Seriously? Ownership?) of cats. Catakism is the belief that felines are elevated beings worthy of mankind’s near-religious reverence and devotion. Is worship too strong a word for what Catakists do toward cats? Is “brisk” too strong a word for the temperature on Pluto?
Humanity has slowly been converting to Catakism for millennia, but now the conversion rate has reached fever pitch. Don’t believe Catakism is among the major belief systems on Earth? Go on the Internet. Turn on your TV. Open a magazine. What do you see? Any questions?
The prevalence of Catakism is further evidenced by the fact that cats have become the number one domestic creature on Earth, despite the fact that not one single feline in all of recorded history has ever been observed doing one thing of practical value for one single human being (unless you consider lying in the sun and licking their own fur to be of benefit to humans). Whereas dogs doggedly insist on protecting us, providing us exercise, tracking down our criminals, rescuing us from fires and avalanches, sniffing out diseases and illegal drugs, guarding our homes and businesses, and going to battle with us, cats insist on sleeping, slow-blinking, and staring at things that don’t exist.
It is the very fact that Cat steadfastly refuses to serve Man in any way, shape, or form that demonstrates how one-sided humanity’s relationship with cats really is. Humans do the revering. Cats are content to be the object of that reverence. Catakism is the perfect marriage of a creature with an endless need to kneel at the feet of something greater than itself (Man; see above) and a creature with an endless need to be knelt before (Cat; see the rest of this book).
At some point in our coevolution, Cat, seeing Man’s innate drive to grovel, graciously agreed to be Man’s eternal adulation recipient. In return, she asked only that Man feed Her, attend to Her toiletry needs, speak to Her in an unreasonably high-pitched voice eighteen hours a day, continuously parade new toys in front of her, and cater to each and every one of Her lifestyle preferences.
Thus was Catakism born.
Signs of a Catakist
If you’re a Catakist, some or all of the following apply to you:
You would rather saw off your own legs and commando crawl to the bathroom than remove a sleeping cat from your lap.
Every trip to Costco, your first purchase is four cases of Fancy Feast Mornings Soufflé with White Meat Chicken, Garden Veggies and Egg. If you have any cash left over, you grab a five-gallon drum of Kirkland corned beef hash for the humans.
Your goodnight rituals with Bootsy routinely outlast your husband’s Viagra.
You devote 5 hours of every day to sleep, 6 hours to work, and 13 hours to the posting and emailing of cat videos, cat memes, cat photos, cat GIFs, cat emoticons, cat apps, and cat snippets of wisdom.
After watching Extreme Cat Hoarders on TV, you turn to your mate and ask, “When are they going to show the crazy stuff?”
Only 25 percent of the surface area of your home is not occupied by cat trees, cat beds, litter boxes, cat scratching posts, cat hidey-holes, cat walkways, cat hammocks, cat feeders, cat toys, and cat swings; 100 percent of the surface area of your home is covered in cat fur.
You’ve left your college kid stranded at the bus station on Christmas Eve in a snowstorm because you were caught up arranging your kitty’s presents under the Christmas tree.
You always upgrade to the latest iPhone as soon as it’s released so you can take better videos of your cat sleeping (and email them faster to everyone on your contacts list).
You’re put off when your date/mate uses his fingers to grab a french fry from your plate at a restaurant, but you think nothing of letting Simba bury his face in your ice cream dish.
When you enter a home that doesn’t stink of litter box, you turn to your companion and whisper, “Does this place smell funny to you?”
And on and on it goes.
Think of it this way. If an alien anthropologist were to visit your home and objectively cat-alog its contents and your behaviors, would she not unhesitatingly conclude that kitties were your central object of religious devotion? And if you thought about it for a minute, would you not be forced to agree?
Humanity’s over-the-top obsession with cats—in our homes, in the media, on our computers and smartphones, in our bookstores and boutiques—has escalated into a full-blown belief system that belongs in the same cat-egory as the great philosophies and religions of the world.
That belief system is Catakism.
Okay then, let’s not pussyfoot around this. What, exactly, is Catakism?
II. Catakism Categorized
In its fullest definition, Catakism is:
The deep and reverent belief in Cat as master, guru, mentor, sage, and ridiculous ball of cuteness.
A Catakist walks a strange line. On one hand, she recognizes the infinite superiority of Cat to Man. This is evidenced by behaviors such as:
1. Constantly seeking the “blessing” of cats. When a Catakist enters a home where a cat resides, her first act, before speaking to the humans, is to seek out the resident feline and pay homage. If the cat snubs her and/or runs away, the human feels deeply flawed and shamed. If the feline allows the human to rub under her neck or behind her ears, the human feels validated and affirmed. If the feline—blessing of all blessings—approaches the human, purrs, and rubs against her, the human feels like a chosen disciple and is ready to purchase a saffron robe and a begging cup and commence a lifetime of monastic devotion.
2. Constantly trying to please cats. A Catakist dedicates all of her free time and disposable income to eliciting signs of approval from her cat. She is on a never-ending quest to find the perfect cat food, cat snack, cat toy, cat furniture, and cat experience that will engage her feline’s attention for more than half a second. Ninety percent of the time, of course, the cat rejects the offering of the human—making a point, for example, of playing with the bag the toy came in rather than the toy itself. But when a cat actually eats the food, plays with the toy, or watches the DVD the human has purchased, the human enters a state of euphoria so extreme she begins speaking in tongues (e.g., “Puddy-wuddums loves her diddly-boojums!”)
3. Deferring to cats’ tastes and preferences. The average Catakist’s home is a temple to Cat, with all lifestyle choices being made so as to protect the comfort zone of the resident feline. Everything from the volume of the TV, to the brightness of the lighting, to the placement of the furniture, to the thread count of the bed sheets is orchestrated to ensure maximum kitty comfort. (Shoes, of course, are forbidden in the devotee’s home lest the human create a single decibel of sound that might disturb one of the cat’s sixteen daily naps and cause it to do the tail-in-the-air, stiff-legged trot to another room.)
4. Behaving obsequiously toward cats. The behavior of the average cat disciple around felines is similar to that of a psychotic third-world dictator’s butler. There is a servile, fawning, overly-eager-to-please, I-beg-you-not-to-kill-me quality to all of the human’s behaviors—from the high-pitched, placating baby talk voice she uses to the delicate way she maneuvers in and out of the cat’s personal space—that clearly establishes the power hierarchy between the two species.
On the other hand, a polar opposite reality seems to be at play. Catakists consider cats insanely cute and funny, too. All it takes to render a Catakist useless for hours is to:
email photos of cats sitting in boxes, teacups, or any container that’s too small for their bodies
start a “My cat is so weird, he …” conversation
place a book of cat cartoons or cat jokes within arm’s reach
say the word “kitten”
write the word “kitten”
mime the word “kitten”
acknowledge in any way, shape, or form the fact that kittens exist.
suggest the possibility that there might be a cute kitten (i.e., a kitten) within a 40-mile radius
display a YouTube video of cats jumping in surprise, cats getting too close to camera lenses, cats bouncing crazily off walls, cats sneaking up on inanimate objects, cats knocking things off shelves, cats miscalculating leaps, cats whacking other animals on the nose, cats getting involved with toilets, cats hiding in bags, cats sliding on polished floors, cats watching popcorn pop, cats interacting with computer printers, and/or cats doing pretty much any activity imaginable, including sitting, sleeping, staring, or frowning
So, while Catakists hold felines in the esteem of full-blown deities, they also spend hours of every day wetting themselves with laughter as they browse through social media pages looking for photos of cats wearing helmets carved from pieces of fruit.
How does anyone straddle this strange line between adoration and absurdity, between reverence and ridicule, between sacredness and sappiness? Hard to say, but all Catakists do it.
In fact, we might even say that it’s in this weird space between opposites that Catakism thrives.
III. The Cat-a-gorical Imperative
Every belief system needs a core principle that its believers can embrace. For Catakists, it is the Cat-a-gorical Imperative.
Perhaps this term sounds vaguely familiar. If you studied philosophy in college, then one of two things is probably true: (1) you were a philosophy major, in which case you are now enjoying a stimulating career at Hooters, or (2) you needed to fill an elective, in which case your experience with Intro to Philosophy had about as much lasting effect on you as an expired suppository. Either way, you’ve undoubtedly forgotten the Categorical Imperative.
The Categorical Imperative basically said do unto others as you would have them to do unto you. It provided everyone, regardless of belief, with a universal way of making moral decisions. In a similar way, the Cat-a-gorical Imperative provides Catakists with a universal way of treating cats.
The Cat-a-gorical Imperative:
Treat every cat you meet as if it were simultaneously the King of the Jungle, the Dalai Lama, and Hello Kitty.
In other words, respect a cat’s infinite nobility, pay it deep spiritual homage, and be endlessly amused by everything it does.
This is the strange contradictory place where Catakists comfortably dwell, 24/7.
IV. At the Mercy of Meow—Catakism: The Belief System
To appreciate the true depth and power of Catakism, it helps to look at how humans practice other important beliefs in their lives. Humans say they believe in many moral and spiritual principles, such as Love Thy Neighbor, Keep the Sabbath Holy, Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Goods, and, of course, good ol’ Do Unto Others … but they tend to be just a bit selective when it comes to putting those beliefs into practice—and they are willing to abandon those beliefs at the slightest sign of a challenge. For example:
I tried the whole Love Thy Neighbor thing, but then Carl next door sprayed lawn clippings on my driveway.
I tried to keep the Lord’s Day holy, but then my team got scheduled to play the ****ing Patriots on Sunday Night Football!
I tried Do Unto Others as You Would Have Them Do Unto You, but I found that for me, personally, I prefer Screw You, But Give Special Treatment to Me. That’s just me, though.
I tried Do Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s wife, but damn!
Not so with Catakism.
Though Catakists don’t consider their way of life a “belief system” as such, they are actually more consistent with their reverence and devotion to Cat than they are with their most devoutly professed beliefs.
For example, you never hear a Catakist shout, “Hey cat—yeah, you—move your fat, furry a**!”
You never hear a Catakist grumbling, “Why does my cat have all the nice stuff while I’m slaving away to make ends meet?”
You never see a Catakist fail to observe National Cat Day, her feline’s birthday, the anniversary of the day she brought said feline home, or the anniversary of the theatrical release of Cats—with all of the attendant rituals and solemnity.
And you never, NEVER see a Catakist go twenty-four hours without uploading, downloading, sharing, or posting at least a dozen hilarious and/or adorable cat memes.
Day in and day out, all around the world, people organize their lives around Catakism with a fervor and consistency a medieval monk would envy. Catakism may not be a religion in the strictest sense of the word, but one would never know it by watching the behavior of believers! Jobs may come and go, relationships may begin and end, but belief in Cat is one thing that never wavers in a Catakist’s life.
No bad behavior that a cat ever exhibits, such as leaving you a dissected mouse on the welcome mat, turning your potted plants into indoor outhouses, burying its claws in your flesh, vomiting on the dinner table during Seder, or demonstrating the theory of gravity by tipping your wineglass onto the white carpet, is enough to shake a Catakist’s faith.
The point is this: We claim to practice many noble and worthy beliefs, but we do not practice those beliefs consistently, day in, day out. On the other hand, Catakists practice their kitty beliefs and rituals with unwavering devotion.
V. Cuddled into Servitude—A Brief History of Cats and Humans
In order to understand how Catakism evolved on Earth, one must explore the origins of Man’s relationship with Cat.
It is believed that cats first began gravitating to human settlements when these two-leggeds first started collecting grains, nuts, and berries. Man’s food storage bins attracted small mammals, such as rats and mice, in great numbers, making them easy to catch. Cats quickly realized it was much more pleasant to sit in the sun and snag mice like doughnuts from a Krispy Kreme conveyor belt than to chase wild prey through the jungle where things like failure, discomfort, and inconvenience could sometimes occur.
Man, for his part, came to realize that you could not enjoy nuts and grains if they no longer exist. And so began what should have been a long and mutually beneficial relationship between cats and humans (with only the mice saying, “Remind me again, what are we getting out of this?”).
But somewhere around the middle of day three, Cat came back to Man with a counterproposal, “You know, I’m starting to realize that staking out your grain silo all day takes a lot of concentration and energy. And I’m not all that crazy about the taste of live rodent, if I’m being honest. It’s kinda gamey, actually. I’m wondering if you could cook it in a flavorsome broth for me while I curl up in the corner over there and nap.”
To which Man replied with an enthusiastic, “Absolutely! Do you want me to cut it up into bite-size morsels too?”
Thus began the one-way, servant-and-master relationship that is the root of modern Catakism.
VI. Catakism in History
Though Catakism has only now been identified and named as a major worldwide faith, it has been practiced for millennia in diverse cultures around the world. People have long attributed magical powers and beliefs to cats, such as: a cat sneezing is a good omen; a white cat is a sign of good luck; when entering a building, one must always let a cat enter first; and, the lesser known and more recent, to fail to open a shared cat video on one’s smartphone brings seven years of bad luck.
Here are a few examples of Catakism in history and religion:
Cyprus
For many years, historians believed the Ancient Egyptians first domesticated cats 4,000 years ago (and began worshipping them 3,999 years and 364 days ago). We now know that cats and humans became cozy with one another much earlier than this. Recently, skeletons of a human and a cat, buried together more than 9,500 years ago, were discovered in Cyprus in an ancient dwelling.
What most of us may not be surprised to learn is that the human was wearing a toga embroidered with the message, “Proud Cat Daddy.” On the wall was a primitive drawing of a kitten dangling from a tree branch, with the carved inscription, “Hang In There.” Early Catakists.
Egypt
Egyptians may not have been the first to worship cats, but they were certainly the most enthusiastic. Ancient Egyptians believed that all cats were owned by the Pharaoh, making it punishable by death to harm or kill a cat. This belief was brought home in a true story reported by Herodotus. A Roman soldier in Egypt accidentally killed a cat, and a huge mob of angry Egyptians took to the streets to demand the soldier’s head. Eventually, the Pharaoh himself had to step forward and say, “Jeez, people, take it down a notch. It was a freakin’ accident. And maybe back off on the lattes just a hair, too.”
In ancient Egypt, when a cat died, all members of the household shaved off their eyebrows because … yeah.
Islam
The cat is revered in Islam both for its cleanliness and its relationship to the prophet Mohammed. Mohammed loved the kitties, yes he did. There is a famous story in which the prophet was summoned to a prayer meeting, but there was a cat sleeping on the sleeve of his robe. And so, rather than wake the cat, he cut off his sleeve.
This extreme story is known to Catakists as normal everyday behavior.
Christianity
Jesus Christ was also known to have a great affinity for cats. The controversial Gospel of the Holy Twelve records the following:
“And as Jesus entered into a certain village he saw a young cat which had none to care for her, and she was hungry and cried unto him, and he took her up, and put her inside his garment, and she lay in his bosom.”
Less well known is the ending of the story:
“And then didst Jesus take the kitty home in his robe and, plucking the foil wrapper from his falafel, fashioned from it a crude cat toy. Yea, verily didst the Lord watch the kitty bat the ball of foil about until the tenth hour, at which time he didst offer the kitty sweet cream, a bed made of the finest goose down, and a light snack of kippered herring and sautéed chicken giblets.”
Yes, the most enlightened beings among us have all been cat people. Felinity is next to Divinity!
VII. Meow You See Me, Meow You Don’t—Evidence of Catakism Around Us
Brethren, let us pray.
Now that the cat is out of the bag about kitty worship being a worldwide, mainstream phenomenon, the time has come to openly celebrate our feelings and beliefs about Cat. The time has come to raise Catakism to a fur-mal belief system that stands nose, tail, and whiskers alongside all the other great faiths of the world.
And that is exactly what we see happening in the world today. Victor Hugo once said, “Nothing is as powerful as an idea whose time has come.” (A random cat owner once said, “Nothing is as powerful as a litter box whose time to be cleaned has come.”)
Here are some signs of the rising tide of Catakism in today’s world:
National Cat Day observances
the cat food aisle in the supermarket taking up more room than the produce and bakery departments combined
a constant stream of kitty-themed books on bestseller lists, with cats often paired with random items such as cheeseburgers, tiny hats, cupcakes, murder plots against you, and homeless guys named Bob
more kitties than porn on the Internet
no, really, more kitties than porn on the Internet!
the fact that this >.< is enough to make you see a cat
the actual existence of a product called Fancy Feast® Medleys White Meat Chicken Primavera Paté with Garden Veggies and Greens
the fact that a grocery store employee will point you to the above product without bursting into tears of laughter
entire stores and businesses with names like Meowington’s, The Cat’s Pajamas, Meowiott Hotel, Chez Mieux, Kitten Kaboodle, Sandy Claws, and Kitty City
cat flakes—don’t pretend you don’t know what they are, you no-good work-shirker you
the fact that more people can name a certain cat with a grumpy face than the vice president of the United States or the head of any foreign nation
cat toys more elaborate and high-tech than the latest-model Tesla
the recent replacement of the iron-shaped playing piece in Monopoly® with a cat
new social phenomena, such as cat cafés in Japan (where you pay to go and be with cats), cat therapy, and cat feng shui
The way we humans feel about cats is undeniable. The jury is still out on how cats truly feel about us, though. All cat owners insist, “My cat loves me.” But this claim is usually made with the same desperately hopeful look on the face as when saying, “My family loves my cooking,” and “I’m pretty well set for retirement.”
Humans adulate cats, revere them, idolize them, adore them, praise them, dress them in tutus, and photograph them. To say that humans love cats is like saying sharks have a scholarly interest in fresh meat. Humans obsess over cats. However, because their obsession is second nature to them, they are often unable to see the degree to which Catakism has taken over their lives.
This helps explain how an otherwise mentally healthy individual can slowly transform from a casual cat enthusiast to a crazy cat lady without realizing that any change has taken place.
VIII. Believers and DICKs
As with any religious or ideological belief system, there are varying degrees of belief and commitment to Catakism, but there is one fundamental distinction that must be understood right from the outset so that we may speak a common language. That is, there are believers and nonbelievers. Believers come in many degrees of Catakistic faith, from kitten smitten to crazy cat lady, while all nonbelievers are considered DICKs (Doesn’t Idolize Cats and Kittens). It should also be noted that some people are actually allergic to cats. These people need our support, our pity, and our Benadryl, for they can never fully attain enlightenment or salvation.
DICKs range from those who just don’t get the cat thing to those who loathe and detest cats. Some DICKs support their friends’ and spouses’ Catakistic faith but prefer not to practice themselves. Others actively avoid cats.
The state of DICKhood is a self-reinforcing one. DICKs distance themselves from cats. That’s because all cats instantly recognize a DICK when one walks into the room. When a cat senses a DICK, she becomes aloof, rigid, frightened, avoidant, or downright hostile. This confirms the DICK’s belief that “cats are unaffectionate, standoffish, disloyal, and only in it for themselves.” Which, in turn, causes the DICK to behave like a dick the next time he or she sees a cat. Which, in turn, causes the cat to … well, you get it.
However, when a Catakist enters a room, even the grumpiest of grumpy cats becomes a melted ball of wriggles, stretches, and purrs.
The only way the eternal cycle of DICKhood can be broken is when a cat chooses a two-legged to move into his/her home and cures the DICK of their DICKliness by sheer force of will. That former DICK is now ready to convert to Catakism by means of a formal Cat Mitzvah.
IX. The Catma of Catakism—The Ninefold Path
All religions have guidelines for believers. Catakism, too, has its collection of catma (can’t call it dogma now, can we?), or moral and spiritual guidelines. One of the central pieces of catma is the Ninefold Path of Catakism.
Nine is a sacred number in Catakism. It represents the number of lives a cat is said to have, the number of cats owned by the average crazy cat lady, and the number of times the average crazy cat lady has had to move for having too many cats.
How the Ninefold Path came to be shared with Man is a subject of some debate. There are many myths, but here are two of the most popular tails:
Myth #1: A fat cat was observed to be sitting motionless under a bodhi tree for forty days and forty nights. The citizens of the nearby village mistakenly assumed the cat had attained enlightenment when, in fact, it was just watching a bird’s nest. The cat imparted the Ninefold Path to the eager village people so they would go away and not bother it anymore.
Myth #2: A kitty Zen master came before his human disciples and sat, wearing a serious expression on his face and a slice of bread around his head. The disciples were not sure whether the bread was intended to be funny or not, and the Zen master gave no clue as to his intent or desire. He simply sat there, staring impassively. At last, one of the disciples could stand it no more and burst out with a loud guffaw. At this point, the Zen master gave the student a stern look and handed him a scroll containing the Ninefold Path. “Read this and come back when you are truly ready to learn,” he said. And then the master departed, never to be seen again.
It is said that believers who follow the entire Ninefold Path can eventually become Ascended Masters of Catakism … or at least Keepers of Contented Kitties.
Ninefold Path Guidepost #1
To ridicule, laugh at, or make light of a cat is to forfeit thy eternal soul.
Although it is perfectly permissible to giggle warmly at posters of kittens with confetti stuck to their fur, chortle heartily at photographs of cats wearing bunny ears, and laugh insanely at videos of determined cats attempting to place themselves in containers much too small for their bodies, it is never, ever, ever acceptable to laugh at a live cat. Cats must be treated with absolute dignity, no matter how badly they judge their leaps to high pieces of furniture or how hilariously they get household objects stuck to their heads.
A cat is, first and foremost, King of the Jungle. A cat is secondarily a goddess worthy of devotion. Only a distant third is a cat a source of entertainment for humans. Woe betide the mortal who gets that order wrong.
