V Театральный фестиваль лагеря

   Robert Benchley once wrote there are many mysteries which humans have not fathomed, and added: "Some of them might not be also worth fathoming." These words occasionally spring to mind during Martin Gardner's lengthy, painstakingly researched investigation from the Urantia Book and its smallish surrounding cult.

   The UB was published in 1955 and runs to 2,097 pages of fairly standard holy-book material. A more sophisticated celestial hierarchy of swarming godlings and angel-analogues ruled by a supreme being ingenuously called the "Great I Am"; prophecies and revelations; a revisionist lifetime of Christ; and so on. Weird neologisms abound, as with Scientology ("Urantia" is merely Earth), and are gleefully quoted. Outsiders think it is odd that some regard the UB as validated by its predictions of scientific developments before the 1955 publication date. For UB fundamentalists, you see, it is an article of faith the text was finalized in 1934.

   The roots of UB go deeper, and Gardner relentlessly explores them. Within the 1800s we meet Sister Ellen White, prophetess of Seventh Day Adventism (itself a splinter cult formed within the wake of William Miller's dud prophecy that Christ would return in 1844), issuing contradictory decrees direct from God and churning out sacred writings by shameless plagiarism. One disciple, Dr William Sadler, broke loose in the Adventists but ironically -- as Gardner persuasively argues -- re-enacted White's autocracy and compulsive plagiarism within the UB movement.

   The story would be that the first inklings of the UB were "channelled" during sleep by Sadler's brother-in-law Wilfred Custer Kellogg -- a relative of the Dr John Kellogg of bowel-obsession fame, recently portrayed within the movie The Road to Wellville, who lurks around the fringes of the story and whose moderately irrelevant health fads earn him an entertaining chapter here. This channelling began in 1911 or 1912, with a spurt in 1923 when Sadler's religious discussion group posed 4,000 questions which Wilfred supposedly answered in a 472-page MS dictated by Higher Intelligences and prepared by his own hand while sleeping one evening....

Urantia

   A cult was born. The divinely authored UB grew even larger. Only wicked sceptics would listen to the rumour that mere humans were encouraged to contribute bits, or even lots.

   Various text comparisons, discussed here at gruelling length and supported by computer analysis, suggest to the eye of unfaith that Sadler wrote large chunks of UB and personally re-edited the whole book. Their own writings are visibly recycled, including ugly racist views along with a powerful flavour of Adventism. Other contributors pinched material from further afield. The bombshell arrived 1992, when the Urantian disciple Matthew Block documented many flagrant plagiarisms in UB, including a damning list of platitudes lifted straight from the very first 33 pages of 1 particular dictionary of quotations.

   Block's faith was only strengthened by his discovery of the Higher Intelligences' cleverness in using mere human words for his or her awesome purposes. UB fundamentalists are similarly unimpressed by this gospel's scientific deficiencies, also voluminously discussed here. If your prediction is correct, UB is confirmed. If something is missing which Higher Intelligences should logically have told us, this is because UB does not dispense "unearned" knowledge (except sometimes): humanity have to get the hard way. Gross scientific errors, like mixing up Fahrenheit and Kelvin for stellar temperatures, are only "time bombs" inserted to encourage human self-reliance and stop people treating UB as inerrant truth -- which some nevertheless do.

   Inevitably the UB movement suffered schisms. Easily the funniest of those involve the united states Urantia Foundation's attempts to preserve rigid copyright charge of a holy book whose authors are, officially, intangible astral entities. There's even a punchline: in February 1995, a US judge declared the UB to be in the general public domain -- though why anyone should need it beats me.

   Martin Gardner has spent a lot more than forty years boldly and effectively attacking the dragons of irrationality ... but finally, perhaps, he's running short of major new targets. The UB cult is mildly funny and not detectably life-threatening (yes, the Branch Davidians and Waco get dragged in at one point, but the connection is Adventist, not Urantian). Maybe it's not funny enough: more often than once Gardner feels the need to pep some misconception by invoking his fictitious numerologist Dr Matrix, to little effect. I hope he's joking when he argues -- as Gardner, less the charlatan Matrix -- that a UB sequence of seven small numbers, followed after undisclosed intervals by a 6-digit after which a 7-digit number, is definitely an intentional "signature" of Wilfred Custer Kellogg (7, 6 and 7 letters). This is tenuous to begin vacuity.

   Although Urantia contains fascinating and entertaining segments, the sheer weight of lovingly researched, meticulously reproduced documentation forms a leaden ballast towards the humour of it all. Better organization might have helped: tighter editing, a subject index to make it usable like a reference work, a family-tree chart to explain the relationships of a lot of Kelloggs. Ultimately, one can't resist saying, a massive sledgehammer is being brought to bear on the few minor nuts.