Skullduggery and Stuff

So it’s been ages and ages since I’ve last blogged. I know: Sue me. And if you’re a Scientologist with a litigious trigger finger, please don’t take me literally.

Since I’ve last splashed around in the blogosphere, I’ve been consumed with work, G.R.E. prep, work, more work and re-runs of Felicity...pre-sophomore haircut:

Christa and I absolutely love this show. It’s a humdinger! I’m man enough to admit this. In any case, J.J. Abrams had to start somewhere before his hit Lost series, didn’t he? It’s not nearly as girly as Gilmore Girls, which I was also man enough to watch all seven seasons.

And hey!!!…before you write me off as some kind of a cultural lightweight, I also loved the bloody horsehead scene in the Godfather, as well as the dead-monkey vignette in Sunset Boulevard, which could very well be my favorite movie of all time, as well as basically anything with blood and a bang-up script. I hate Scorcese’s films, though. Way too long. But we’re wandering way off our designated topic for this fine evening: What can the Church learn from Scientology?

If this is your first visit to this blog, then I encourage you to go back and peruse some of my past blogs on my first-hand adventures with this skullduggery of a cult. These blogs may or may not freak you out. I hope they do, though, at least to the extent that you never visit their church. You’ll be glad you didn’t.

In any case, there’s everything in them from skyscrapers to pixie dust to a veritable cat-fight. I recently re-read these blogs and laughed out loud a few times (I love it when I crack myself up); yet shortly thereafter I had a horrifying thought that sent a horrid, Halloween chill up my spine: What if some innocent reader mistook my tone of levity for fun and games, and decided to visit a Scientology church just for a trick or a treat, or for a laugh, or a titillating story to tell for Hallow's Eve.

Please don’t. This is a serious cult. Again, the word skullduggery comes to mind. Suffice it to say, these people get inside your head. I failed to mention earlier that I had wacky dreams for at least a week after we visited this epicenter of madness. These dreams were more disturbing and bizarre than a Yoko Ono art exhibit during her psychotropic years.

And this leads me to my chief thesis in my final analysis of this cult: Scientology wields power in proportion to how broken a person is. Let me repeat this assertion of mine. Scientology wields power in proportion to how broken you are. And by that I mean this: If a person is self-sufficient and autonomous, then L. Ron Hubbard’s zany cosmology and fey explications of human existence have little effect. This is why the Scientology-sponsored film Battlefield Earth starring John Travolta sold approximately seventeen tickets. It was nonsensical and most people knew it. Yet this is also why Lucy (she's the motherly tour guide who showed Christa and I around the Minneapolis church) did not sit us down and give us popcorn and show us Battlefield Earth. She simply steered every portion of our conversation back to Dianetics—Hubbard’s popular book that has sold a gazillion copies.

She knew what she was doing. What is the origin of evil? Read Dianetics. Where does mankind come from? Read Dianetics. What did Hubbard think about Jesus or the God hypothesis? Oh, read Dianetics. It’s all in Dianetics.

So, back to my thesis, my broken thesis.

Scientology preys on broken people. Many of them creative types. This is what their notorious e-meter is all about. Hook them up and get them talking about their deepest fears and wounds. Use these fears and wounds to sell them “auditing” sessions. And then further use these fears and wounds as formidable weapons in case these broken people decide to leave, wallets in tow. 

That’s what Scientology is ultimately about. It’s about lucre, plain and simple.

As far as the broken aspect is concerned, thankfully, God broke me a long time ago. He really broke me and then He really filled me up with Himself. God absolutely broke me and He absolutely filled me up with Jesus. This is me being neither proud nor humble—it’s the truth. The process was painful but the result was nothing less than salvation in every sense of the word. 

My only point is this: Had Lucy or Lady Clarity gotten to me before Jesus did, then I might be slavishly following the wild imagination of a sci-fi writer whose bronze bust looks like a dead fish.

Thankfully I’m not.

As far as what the Church can learn from Scientology, I had this rather sanctimonious essay in mind about the Church paying more attention to broken people—i.e., the outcast, the disenfranchised, etc. And while of course I believe that, I’ve suddenly turned sour to the idea of holding up Scientology as a paragon of virtue (albeit analogically), or in anything more than an opaque light.

Amen. No more blogs on Scientology. I’m through with this skullduggery (in case you haven't figured it out, I love this word...so apropos). I’m now eager to blog about topics that are less greasy and way more noble, like the monstrous genius of Felicity...pre sophomore haircut of course.

Thanks for reading. Till Iggy pops....

Comments

[Christa]

A blog entry with Felicity, Gilmore Girls and the word skullduggery? Totally brill. :)

[Mimi B]

Got here thru Christa's website. Interesting topic. Went to a Scientology thing once so long ago I'm embarrassed to mention the year. Anyhow, they had this big marketing ploy that made you think they were doing an extensive personality test. I filled it out one day and they called me in. It was such a weird experience. What I remember was this person asking me what the saddest experience I'd ever had was. I told them my dog dying. Trust me, I was young then. The person had me relive the moment over and over again (during our first session) so that it would hurt less and less each time I recounted it. Let's just say I never went back. God was protecting me even then, when i wasn't a believer. Ok, let's pretend that was about 20 yrs ago, out of the blue, about 3 mos ago, my estranged husband started receiving mail, for me, from CoS! Freaked me out! I've never been connected to his address. So, I called them up, told them of my belief in Jesus, that they needed Him, and told them to never contact me again. This IS a cult! Amen brother! ~Mimi...a fan of Christa's

[Will Banister]

Mimi B, fan of Christas :)

That is so bizarre. The bar of weirdness just keeps getting higher and higher for this cult but somehow they seem to clear it each time.

Thanks for your heartfelt comments.

W