Belief

While my other-half has been in Iceland, I have occasionally texted her with bits of domestic news. Last week I told her our cat had caught his first mouse. This week, I told her, he caught a hamster. She replied that he was very naughty and asked if the hamster was still alive.

I'm afraid the hamster is not alive. But that's because it doesn't exist. Still, the idea the large, white, feline monster, who considers himself the most important member of the family (and who dare argue), caught someone's pet rodent is fairly plausable. And see how the first bit of news prepares the way for the second? If I'd just told her he'd caught a hamster straight out, the leap of faith would probably have been too much.

If you look closer at my lie, it does conjure up the imagine of him dressed like a... well, a cat burgular (skin-tight lycra body suit, forehead-light, crossbow-fired grappling hook), as he scales our neighbour's back wall, slips in through the window, sidles up to the hamster's cage, pulls out his silicon-alloy metal cutters, breaks into the cage and muffles the hamster's screams with a wad of chloroform-soaked cloth...

This is a screenwriter's trick. It's called the "set up". It's how we get audiences to accept the outlandish events which make up our contrived dramas: Start in what the audience accepts as recognisable reality, then take them step by step into something beyond...

The spread of theological belief works in the same way. It's always good for a blog post to have some practical use, so I'm going to show you how to gain power over half the planet by setting up your own religion, in 4... yes, only FOUR simple steps!

Step 1: convince people God exists. This is split up into: a) tell them if they don't worship him he will be displeased and something terrible will happen and b) wait for something terrible to happen. This is your first set-up and pay-off. For an example, I'll use a drought, followed by massive crop failure, followed by general starvation. But it could be any major civil disaster, like a flood or plague. Once the inevitable disaster strikes, simply give your people a knowing and smugish look. Don't rub it in too much. Fake some sympathy.

Step 2: Sit back and watch as terrified (and extrememely hungry) peasants fall to their knees and beg your invented God for salvation. Odds are, it will rain next year and the crops will grow, seeming to prove you right. If crops continue to fail, you can insist people aren't worshiping hard enough. Throw them a few "sinners" to take their anger out on. Eventually, the crops will grow (If they don't, don't worry, you're all going to be dead anyway). Once the crops are growing again, let the God idea settle in.

Step 3: Other smart-arses have started to jump on the bandwagon and now you have competition. Added to that, some people are starting to say it's all a load of old tosh. You need something to kick your religion into second gear. Well, a prophecy is always popular. Tell them God will come to earth. "Oh," I hear you cry, "People are bored with us threatening them with that. At least with failing crops we had something to show them." That's why you tell them God will appear in human form. Genius, isn't it? This is your second set-up.

Step 4: Your flock have been content with the knowledge that "one day" God will appear before them (basically, to prove he exists, but don't be too on-the-nose about it). Unfortunately, the Roman Empire is doing annoyingly well and they use the old multiple-god system. Your flock are beginning to defect. This is where your second set-up pays off. It's time to play your Tump Card - this is the big one. It's time for "God" to come to Earth in human form. Pick someone suitably charismatic. Preferably a bit nutty, too, as this will give him a sense of otherworldliness. (Tip: Don't tell him about the self-sacrificing bit until he's so wrapped up in the messiah thing, it's too late to chicken out!)

I think you can work out the rest from here. But I suspect you'll have the greatest empire the world has ever known in the palm of your hand. In fact, I guarantee it.