Danny Wallace's book, \Join Me,"" is an autobiography chronicling how once upon a time, a young man in Britain-who had way too much free time on his hands-started a cult.
He swears it was an accident, and in the early days of the cult, he actually went so far as to bristle when he was referred to as a cult leader, particularly by the media. Instead, he called it a ""collective.""
Now, however, he has apparently decided that arguing is a waste of time. With his irascible sense of humor, he embraces his title and now dispenses advice to other people who may be interested in starting a cult.
""Just remember-nobody likes a nasty cult,"" Wallace said. ""Do what I did. Stay away from promising space travel and stay away from mass suicides. We frown heavily upon mass suicides and this is something all cult leaders need to think about. If they top themselves, their group is back at square one. No logic there whatsoever.""
Wallace is currently embracing his new role as a Generation X legend, and although he says it is not quite as glamorous as people might think, it has good points.
""I always thought being a cult leader would mean [having things like] adoring women stuck to my thighs, but it is really a lot of admin. Lots of mail, e-mail. It takes up a bit of time, but I really enjoy it because every day brings new stories, new joinees.""
Having enjoyed so much success in Europe, Wallace is presently moving on to new territory-the United States.
The whole thing started a few years back when Wallace was engaging in what his then-girlfriend referred to as ""stupid boy behavior,"" which basically meant he was doing something pointless, unexplainable or weird.
Fortunately for the world, he chose to pacify her in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere-he kept doing it, but he just didn't tell her.
What was it exactly that he was doing? Originally, he posted an advertisement in a London newspaper. All the ad said was, ""Join Me. Send one passport-sized photo to..."" and listed his address.
The odd part is-people actually decided to ""join him,"" although they had no idea what they were expected to do. At first, two young men-joinees Jonesy and Cobbett-sent in passport photos and friendships were forged.
Soon, other passport photos began arriving. A Web site was set up and Wallace continued his efforts to recruit people, wondering just how many people would blindly send in a passport photo.
The reason for the passport photos is simple, Wallace said. Sending the picture constitutes a show of faith.
""It is all about trust,"" he said. ""We are all about trusting other people, and when people send me their picture, they are trusting me not to do something dodgy with it.""
So for a while, people were willing to send in passport photos of themselves-but eventually they wanted to know exactly what they were agreeing to and why the photos were needed. In the beginning, Wallace himself was not certain.
Without giving away the entire plot, we can say young Danny quickly decided that the purpose of the group would be to do good deeds. Every Friday.
At first, the command joinees received from their leader was to be kind to old men. For example, Wallace met a woman who said her elderly father loved peanuts. Wallace quickly called his joinees to action and, within a few days, the old man was receiving packages of peanuts from around the country.
However, this command to just take care of old men was quickly altered in the face of a few complaints that this was discriminatory and soon, everyone was eligible to be the recipient of a good deed.
Wallace managed to keep this whole cult business from his girlfriend mostly by keeping a low profile. He communicated with joinees through his Web site and was very careful of who he told about his role.
Over time, reports of good deeds began to make the rounds and small chapters of what was now referred to as the ""Karma Army"" began to pop up all over England.
They began receiving recognition from the media and Wallace suddenly found himself working much harder to keep his project secret from his girlfriend, as he was invited on television shows in Belgium and in other European countries. And of course, while traveling for the Karma Army, Wallace was busily recruiting even more locals to his cult.
Eventually, as was bound to happen, Wallace's girlfriend found out what he was doing. She issued an ultimatum-the stupid boy behavior or her. He chose the Karma Army.
Her loss has turned out to be the world's gain, though. Even before his recent arrival in America, he had a strong collective of people performing good deeds in the name of the Karma Army.
Wallace said that is a very exciting feeling.
""There are 6,000 people around the world doing my bidding every Friday,"" he said, ""which isn't bad, you know!""
Initially, Wallace had hoped to recruit 100 joinees. Once he passed that number, he upped the challenge to 1,000. Now, however, he has set his sights much higher.
""My new goal is 20,000 joinees,"" Wallace said. ""That would mean that they would be performing just over a million good deeds a year.""
At first, Wallace admitted he was a little nervous about coming to America to look for new recruits.
""I was afraid at first,"" he said. ""I thought, 'There's just too many of them.' But we can do it. I think we can agree, we've [managed to] cover Europe well!""
Even Wallace is sometimes surprised by how well-known the Karma Army is. One recent afternoon while grocery shopping, he discovered just how popular he has become.
""I got a call on my mobile ... and this [radio announcer] told me I was on the air-live to nine million Colombians!"" he said.
Wallace said that running a cult such as the Karma Army has taught him a lot about human kindness.
""[Join Me] has taught me to be less cynical,"" he said. ""People are essentially good. There are weird little social barriers keeping us from being nice to strangers, but with the flimsiest excuse, we will. Rightly or wrongly, people need excuses to push them over a barrier.""
