Fifthist Hub
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You and me

Should take a trip across the galaxy

And feel the breaking waves of our own energy

And everything will come together

Slowly

Quietly


Hey there fella, glad you stopped by. I mean, you’ll do… better than nothin’. No really, come on in. We aint kooks.

You might ask me why you’re here! Well that’s because you’re part of the Fifthist Church. You were drawn here a long time ago as a matter of fact, you didn’t have much say in the matter. You could say it’s somethin’ like fate, predestination, or maybe its retro-cuz-ality. Maybe it’s backwards like that. Who knows. Maybe it’s forwards too.

Not a religious type you say? Oh, well, that’s fine. We ain’t into prayin’ and all that either. A lot of us here are backsliders. Church is just one of them words people throw around. Fifthist Church, Fifthist Collective, Fifthist Book Publishing, Fifthist Psychedelic Surf Rock, Fifthist Lip Balm, etcetera. It’s Fifthist is all that matters.

What does “Fifthism” mean? Well, that’s not a name my congregation came up with. A while back there was a bunch of new agey hip types who went and published a book. Yanks called themselves The Fifth Church, and that name stuck… But the most likely case is that there are always five manifestations of Fifthism. Always. There’s usually a cult up north, out west, and well, yours truly. I ain’t never heard of no commy Fifthists or nothin'.

…Theres even been Fifthism all throughout time. Think of the Fifthist protozoans. Think of the Fifthist suns. Harken to creation, the concept of a universe.

What makes them Fifthist? Patterns, signals, magic. The unpossible. A Fifthist concept will slowly transcend reality. When that concept blossoms, it falls, like ripened fruit brother, o’ to be consumed and shat by the lord glowing hands himself. It becomes reality. We see the Fifth world, brother. And we too shall fall, like the the ekpyrotic house before us, and shat as they were.

Eventually.

Us Southern Fifthists have been around for years. Maybe someone’s keeping us from blowin’ downwind? Hate to be paranoid. Hate to think something out there was scared of the last Southern Fifthists after they done came to term.

But enough with all this morbid talk about dyin’ and indifferent other-universally forces of nature and TOP SECRETE PARAGOVERNEMENT ORGAN-IZATIONS. YEAH, WE KNOW ABOUT YOU. WE’RE GETTIN’ REAL TIRED OF YOUR SHIT! We’re still alive! So to hell with you! To hell with this “Fifthism” and talk about “Fifthism”! We got money to raise! Get outta my face! Join me in outer space! Roll that frog footage! Light those candles! Send check or money order to World 390, so that our corpses may bloat and explode, and from that heaping viscera we will rise again as pungent, fungent fumes!

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