The New Religion; or The Internet Has Dropped Out

A philosopher once said that God was dead, and that we had killed Him. The philosopher was wrong. We merely upgraded to a faster, lighter model.

We sit around the table in silence, each of us offering a heartfelt prayer: O Great Internet, may your servant, the NBN, give to us your glorious Wi-Fi Signal! We sing your praises, O Connected One!  We beg and grovel for its favour: Please, don't drop out now, I have to finish my assignment! And so, the black box becomes a shrine, our kitchen table chairs church pews. Like pilgrims going to holy sites to get closer to God, we cluster around the modem in the hope that its signal and benevolence will be stronger here.

Of course, there is an option should the internet's ineffable plan not involve us using it today – pay your way to salvation! The IT specialists offer the digital equivalent of Catholic indulgences. If you pay for tech help, you're right on your way to eternal connectivity and bliss. Telstra is our televangelist, but this time, It's How We Connect with our broadband plan, not our spirituality, that's the issue.

Welcome to the new religion, where followers trump piety and our saints are influencers. Our leaders have converted, no longer with divine right but taking advantage of the mouth of god to spread their proclamations. Your thoughts on the afterlife don't matter in this faith (although there's sure to be someone out there ready to get into a digital metaphysical flame war with you about them), but heaven forbid the internet should drop out. Reformation, revolution, call it what you will, but know that now the words to the hymns are ever-changing, from #blessed to big mood.

So here we are. Pilgrims, devotees, followers, desperate. Praying to an invisible force to fulfil our needs, our desires. Please, O Internet, let us connect with you. Let us stream, check our feeds, let us google. We turn the modem off and on again, a final attempt, our amen.