Rational Circumference and Rotational Faith
Among the Pikers of Egg Beta III, enlightenment is not achieved through meditation, prayer, or the consumption of fermented starlight, but through the precise calibration of one’s circumference-to-radius ratio. The moment a Piker’s body achieves rationality—where π is politely asked to leave and replaced with a more socially acceptable fraction—the cosmos nods in approval. This ratio, known as the Divine Quotient, is celebrated annually with synchronized rotations and the ceremonial shedding of mildly sentient skin. It is said that the first Piker to achieve perfect rationality was immediately granted access to the universe’s source code, which he promptly used to install a screensaver.
Clockwise rotation, the preferred spiritual practice of the Piker faithful, is believed to align one’s chakras, antennae, and digestive regrets. During clockwise motion, the sum of a Piker’s parts becomes equal to the number they first thought of—a mystical constant known only to those who have eaten lunch in zero gravity. This rotational enlightenment is often accompanied by spontaneous poetry, mild levitation, and the ability to understand bureaucratic signage. Piker monks, known as Circumfarians, teach that clockwise movement is not just a direction—it’s a lifestyle, a philosophy, and occasionally a tax write-off.
Anti-clockwise rotation, while technically legal, is considered a spiritual faux pas and a gastrointestinal hazard. Pikers who rotate in reverse are prone to vomiting up their own metaphysical assumptions, often in the form of semi-digested aphorisms. The resulting mess is usually cleaned by Crisps, who find philosophical bile to be a delicacy. Some radical thinkers argue that anti-clockwise motion reveals hidden truths, but most Pikers dismiss this as “backward enlightenment” and recommend a firm clockwise reboot. The only known benefit of reverse rotation is the temporary ability to speak in palindromes.
Piker theology is built on the sacred geometry of self. Their temples are shaped like flattened ellipses, their scriptures are written in spirals, and their hymns are sung in concentric circles. The Rational Circumference is not merely a measurement—it is a moral compass, a spiritual GPS, and a warranty against existential drift. Piker philosophers debate whether irrational shapes can achieve salvation, but most agree that squares are just circles with commitment issues. The holy symbol of the faith is a perfectly round frisbee with a single curly antenna, often mistaken for a cosmic snack by passing satellites.
Achieving rational circumference is not without its side effects. Enlightened Pikers report symptoms such as spontaneous empathy, enhanced sarcasm, and the ability to smell ozone in low-resolution dreams. Some experience brief moments of omniscience, during which they understand everything except the plot of human romantic comedies. Others develop a compulsion to rotate clockwise at inappropriate times, such as funerals or tax audits. Despite these quirks, the Rational Circumference remains the highest spiritual goal among Pikers—a path to transcendence paved with geometry, joyrides, and the occasional disco bump.
(This piece was reviewed under the influence of mild philosophical nausea and a rotating éclair. Interpretations may vary depending on spin velocity and snack alignment.)
Harry is a recovering satirist, part-time philosopher, and metadata tinkerer. His archive spans two decades of metaphysical mischief, theological punchlines, and poetic nonsense. He believes in satire’s transformative power, the elegance of expressive metadata, and recursion—once writing a poem that never ended and a script that crashed browsers.
