I don't know why I had pushed The Church of the SubGenius out of my mind for the past few years. I blame my rapid decline into normalization and genital failure. But lately I've been scratching the inside of my skull with a giant sequoia that I had wittled into a toothpick. Then I had a vision. A vision of something like the apocolypse, yet tart like a Granny Smith Apple. I didn't know what to do with myself. So I stuck what was left of the stump that was the stump of my own left index finger straight down my gullet with a guggle-guggle-guggle -- and I then cried out, "I knew that when you left me, I would be riddled with sores! I knew that without you life would turn savage and hard to envision! I knew that bereft of your kind gleaming cheeks I would remain walletless and unwarented." And then came the pipe. Then came the Bob. Then came the Subgenius.
But, of course, there is always the chance that the deviant and odd are shunned by society because they are deviant and odd, and not because the deviant and odd are actually better than everyone else which leads everyone else to shun them.
Nobody understands me, therefore I am better than everyone. Except you of course. I'll let you be better than me if you'll give me a job.