One needn't be a follower of the Church of the SubGenius to appreciate this ""One True Anthology"" of stories dictated by the Apostles (the ""Fishers of Wallets"") of J.R. ""Bob"" Dobbs, the Supreme Salesman and all-around God-figure for this anti-religion that's based on abnormality and weirdness. Described by editor and Second Apostle Stang as ""a get-rich-quick scheme unparalleled in history,"" the Holy Scamdom combines pop culture, dada, the occult, and other esoterica to inspire this collection of visions, rants, parables, historical reenactments, and other ""outright but no less valid fabrications."" Simply put, this bizarro book introduces as well as elaborates upon the doctrines, iconography, and rituals of the Dallas-based cult. Many of the contributors, who are frequently characters in each other's stories, represent the finest demented minds who worship at the altar of ""Bob."" SF-writer John Shirley's breath-taking ""199619971998""--without a doubt that most accomplished literary piece here--is a cyberpunk vision of the apocalypse as explained by the pipe-smoking ""Bob"" to his nine-year-old daughter ""Connie"" in the year 1996, two years before X-Day, when the Xists will come to Earth and finish off the Conspiracy. All of which is further explored in pieces by Brooks Caruthers, Onan Canobite, Paul Mavrides, and Puzzling Evidence. Tales by Harry Robins, Michael Peppe, Ahmed Fishmonger, and K. DeVries chronicle the many sightings of and visitations by ""Bob,"" the smooth-talking Ipsissimus of self-serving revelation. Stang's own lengthy contribution follows ""Bob"" on the ""whirlpooling cosmic time-subway"" through history; Waves Forest's equally long ""'Bob' and the Oxygen Wars"" unravels the secrets of time-travel--which have been long suppressed by the Conspiracy--in a story incorporating lots of wacko scholarship, much of it apparently genuine. Robert Anton Wilson, no stranger to conspiracy theories, adds his own mix of real and spurious learning in a ""Bob""-inspired discussion of the ""dimensions of divine dongs."" Portraits of prominent Churchmen, prayers, ""Bob""-mandalas, and other assorted bits of porno-goofiness fill out this remarkable work of scripture. At its worst, then, puerile sex jokes and mindless blather; at best, ontological humor and anarchic genius--a wickedly precise parody of organized religion.