Mooncow God doo’d into existence

Strange goings-on have been reported within the Mooncow community in recent months: gatherings of horizontal cows are being preached to, their noses filled with strange scents, and a rising number of visits to religious institutions. We investigated it and can now exclusively reveal: a new God has arrived.

It did not come with a thunderclap, a burning shrub, or indeed any of the usual dusty paperwork. In fact, it was all quite unglamorous, arriving with a faint farmyard whiff. Nobody believed in it, voted for it, or made a spreadsheet for it, but the facts are undeniable. It has left theologians, scientists and philosophers worried and other cows faintly amused.

You’d assume a God needs to be finished before it can exist. Fully formed, handing down rules from day one. This one wasn’t. It was assembled backwards, built from the accumulated weight of small, freely chosen acts of doing. In the way a water droplet joins a stream that becomes a river, and then one day finds itself crashing down on some unsuspecting community. No prayers, sermons, or dusty books. Just a bunch of cows who kept doing things for long enough.

Scientists investigated it, and it turns out that the bastion of cow society, the Do’ocracy, has caused a collective layer of consciousness to form: an invisible accumulation of every small act of doing, dubbed ‘The Moosphere.’ The term was first coined by a man stood in front of a speaker at 3am, although he has since insisted he meant to say something else.

This collective accumulation of consciousness does appear to be thickening with time, although it remains quite “lumpy” across the community. Dense in places, largely absent in others, roughly correlating with whoever currently has their USB on them. The Moosphere’s Lumpiness Index, calculated weekly, currently sits at 6.8, up from 4.1. Although its author concedes this scale was invented on the same afternoon it was first measured.

Early signs of the Moosphere’s pull are already showing. Mooncow sightings inside churches are up an alleged 340%, though the cows involved insist they were only there for the ceilings.

One couple was photographed in the Vatican itself, staring away from the ceiling, unable to offer a satisfactory account of either their activities or the fact that both left considerably paler than they’d arrived. Asked directly, another cow described their visit only as: “I could not see the masturbating woman statue that I was referred to.” Reporters left more confused than they came, and considerably more worried about the growing pull the Moosphere seems to be exerting over the community.

So, what do we do with this “God” now it’s here? Or the more pertinent question: what’s it going to do with us?

Early signs are not good. Cow scientists studying the Do’ocracy have quietly been running a formula for years, tracking each cow’s activity, weighted by the power of whoever they worked with, discounted over time by something politely called the “forgetfulness coefficient.” The God seems to be using this and super charging it into some kind of industrial ledger tallying who did what and with whom.

As the Moosphere’s grip tightens, the Do’ocracy’s founding promise, that nobody is in charge, is looking shakier by the week. When this accumulated doing reaches infinity, or more likely just a critical mass, it is expected to undergo a phase transition and become self-aware. The Udder point is the moment the God’s control over the community outweighs the community’s control over itself. Past that point, a Do’ocracy stops being a Do’ocracy and collapses into a Theocracy.

Mooncows, a community that insists nobody is in charge may be about to discover it has elected somebody after all. Permanently, meta-physically, and entirely by accident.