I am hesitant to rate this week’s book. I attribute this to a rational sense of paranoia.

I’ve been in religious arguments and debates, and I’ve reached the conclusion that such things are to be avoided.

What point is there in a discussion when both parties are convinced beforehand of their own unerring superiority of opinion? Plus, if I am to rate one holy book, I will feel obligated to rate all others. I don’t have that kind of time on my hands.

Despite my misgivings, I don’t imagine my editors would be happy if I don’t include some amount of stars, so please understand, kind and forgiving reader, that I’m rating the book, not the idea.

If you must send complaints, please let them be of the non-theological variety. Something based on writing theory would be nice. (All such letters may be sent to Alicia Martin, c/o Pulse Desk. All the whining rants may be sent to Dr. Phil. He’ll know what to do with the likes of you.)

As for the book, I’ve not read anything quite like it before – unless you count The Onion.

“The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster” came about when the author, Bobby Henderson, wrote a letter to the Kansas State Board of Education saying that Intelligent Design should be taught along with evolutionary theory in science classrooms.

Apparently, the Flying Spaghetti Monster appeared before him, converting Henderson to a Pastafarian, and Henderson felt Flying Spaghetti Monsterism should be taught alongside evolution, as well.

The Pastafarians (followers of the Flying Spaghetti Monster) believe He created all and controls all with His Noodly Appendage. He is a benevolent god, having created us in his ideal image (pirates, not pasta), declaring every Friday a holy holiday, and having a beer volcano and stripper factory in Heaven.

What’s remarkable is Henderson’s ability to back up this religion with scientific data (Pastafarians don’t believe in dogma and are encouraged not to rely on faith). He cites graphs, illustrations and even classic works of art, in which the Flying Spaghetti Monster appears, proving His intervention with His Noodly Appendage.

In the book, Henderson tackles every topic imaginable, from evolution to global warming. The history of Flying Spaghetti Monsterism is included in the second chapter, as well as pamphlets and spray-paint stencils for spreading the Word.

Also, there are the eight “I’d Really Rather You Didn’ts,” tips for converting people of other faiths, and the book ends with essays and mathematical formulas from scientists and mathematicians, which prove the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

Naturally, I consider this book a farce, and a very humorous one at that. For those who disagree, pray His Noodly Appendage will strike me down and send me to hell (with the stale beer volcano and the factory that produces strippers crawling with venereal diseases).

Henderson is taking a jab at the Intelligent Design folks, and it’s about time someone did. Too few scientists are making a stand against those who want Intelligent Design taught in primary and secondary schools, and that is Henderson’s purpose: to show the lunacy that is being given a voice in how the youth of the United States are being educated.

Well, he’s also using his profits to build a pirate ship. But, it’s a mission ship to spread the Word of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

All in all, it’s a decent book – its point is made, although I would have been satisfied with the first chapter alone. It’s a far more entertaining read than any other religious book I’ve read, but it still manages to get dull and repetitive after the first thirty pages.

However, if you’re tired of the ho-hum religions that don’t encourage dressing in full pirate regalia, read “The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.” Becoming a Pastafarian might be for you.