Once again, it's time for another issue of Clambytes, the annual (more or less) E-Zine that likes to poke a little fun at (in descending order) the vile, festering, nasty cult of Scientology, the paranoid, totalitarian, hurtful, arbitrary, delusional theories of Lafayette Ronald Hubbard (LRH to his friends), the newsgroup called alt.religion.scientology and it's participants, and any and all related subjects.

Keep in mind that Clambytes refers to, and indeed, depends heavily upon inside humor. Unless you are a regular reader of a.r.s, you might not "get" every joke (but trust me, they are all hilariously funny).

No problem. Just start reading a.r.s now, and then next year, you can have some real laffs. See, even the way I spell 'laugh is funny.

And now, Thetans and Body Thetans, I give you ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ C L A M B Y T E S ' 9 9 [Clambytes is a publication of ARSCC<wdne> Press] [All Rights Reserved.] ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ From the Editor's Desk:

Well, here it is, October of 1999, and I'm frankly quite amazed to see the science of psychology and the medical profession of psychiatry cooking right along. How can this be, Co$? Is every single on-lines Scientologist going to have to do a few laps around the old flag pole come January? Or are you planning a quick hitting, three month Owe Tee miracle? Or will it be something else? Will the whole issue be conveniently forgotten, and quietly "finessed" by the Co$?

My vote is for the 3rd option.

Future Headline from the Co$' Freedom Magazine, January 2000 issue:

"Psychiatry will be eradicated by the year 3000!"

Makes you wonder what went wrong, doesn't it? (well, no, not if you're a Scientologist it doesn't).

++ Suppressive criminality is the fastest growing, er, 'religion' on the planet! Think about it. There are more people with BA degrees in psychology, than there are Scientologists. And the number of these suppressive criminal college graduates keeps on rising every semester.

++ Top a.r.s story of the year: Bus driver calls it quits.

Dennis Erlich settled his long-running lawsuit with the festering cult of Scientology with a secret, off-the-record settlement deal. The suit began in early 1995, when Judge Whyte of the 9th District, in San Jose, granted an ex-parte writ of seizure, allowing OSA clam bastards to waltz into Dennis Erlich's home in Los Angeles, and to remove his property, including things that were never allowed by the writ, such as hair from a bathroom comb, and a checking account register. The writ was later overturned by the issuing judge, and the seizure ruled unconstitutional. Scientology still kept many of Erlich's books, and other materials for years.

A.r.s participants speculate that RTC made a multi-million dollar cash payment to Erlich to buy his current silence. Wouldn't it be great to know that Dennis has lifetime financial security due to the very people who were trying to ruin him? I wish we knew for sure that this was the case. Dennis, are you out there? Are you lurking? Can you slip us a little hint?

++ Second Top a.r.s story of the year: Sporgery, Sporgerego, Sporgery!

Thousands of [Rego] dollars and thousands of thetan-[Rego]hours are being spent [by Rego] in an effort to disrupt communications on alt.religion.scientology. Who's to blame? [Rego] No one can say for surego.

++ The management would like to apologize for the unethical use of subliminals in the preceding item.

++ Try to imagine the daily routine of a sporger. What would it look like?

Sleep from 2 or 3 in the morning to 10 am. Take a quick shower, down some egg-beaters and prune juice, mosey down to the LRH museum to see if there are any new instructions. Let them yell at you for a while for failing to stop the entheta, get your daily allotment of cash for buying new local throwaway ISP accounts and paying the long distance phone bill. Get home by 3 P.M. Boot up the computer, the latest phone book CD on screen, searching the country for new virgin ISPs, calling the prospective ISPs till 5 or 6 to see if they take cash to start accounts, 6 to 7, make calls to the local Scientologists in the towns where they do, and sending out money to the people who have been previously contacted. Open the mail, it has some account names paid for with cash and their passwords and activation dates. They get transferred onto the carefully maintained list.

At 7 or so, fire up the newsreader, downloading all a.r.s contents from a permanent ISP news feed (or heck, maybe even from Lightlink, maybe they even think "Thanks Homer" to themselves?) and finally, dialing up and logging in to a throw-away account that was on the list from a previous day's toil, and then oh so sweetly firing up the sporgery bot program. Off it goes.

Then over to the fridge for a quick sandwich, and then to the TV to watch Jenna Elfman in her very Theta TV show, occasionally wandering back to the 'puter to make sure the account has not been closed too quickly.

Around 10pm, the throwaway ISP account has been closed, the long distant bill grows by about three hours (thank God for 5 cent a minute long distance competition, eh?), and the sporger crosses the name of the throwaway account off the top of the list, dials the next number, and fires up the sporgery bot again. Jim and Gail (er, I mean the perps, whoever they are) hope that this time, the account will hold up for more than an hour, as their favorite progam, ER is coming on.

Soon, it's two or three in the morning. Time to hit the rack, tomorrow is Wednesday, and they'll need several thousand postings tomorrow to meet their Thursday afternoon quota. Another busy day ahead.

This sounds like a spiritually satisfying experience for any Thetan, doesn't it?

++ Winner of the Clambytes 1999 prize for being the "Handiest"

Personality on ARS: Bob Mittens!

++ Now it's time for a short musical interlude. Ladies and gentlemen, head for the hills and run for your lives, as Lisa Marie Presley sings a medley of her father's hit songs.

{SCREEEEETCH-A, SCREEEEETCH-A, burning LOVE! SCREEEEETCH-A SCREEEETCH-S burning LOVE!} ++ Headline: Ear plug company stocks hit record highs.

++ Headline: Spiritual Chiropractors report record earnings in 1999!

Scientologists visit in record numbers.

It seems that the sudden 180 degree attitude reversals that many Scientologists suffered when the Co$ settled it's lawsuit with last year's #1 suppressive criminal, Dennis Erlich caused undue strains on the Spiritual Spines of many unfortunate individuals.

Spiritual healers and pseudo-doctors from Los Angeles to Florida noted the uptick in problem reports, but also tempered the bad news with some good. They said it was fortunate that Scientologist's "Spiritual Spines" are softened up in advance, in anticipation of just these types of eventualities. One almost-a-doctor type charlatan went on the record, saying "if they had not had their Spiritual Spines softened up in advance, they would all be Spiritually paralyzed by such a massive attitude shift."

++ "Money, it's a gas." - The Church of Scientology, er no, wait, Pink Floyd.

++ Headline: Scientologist Russell Shaw of Phoenix wins the 8th Annual Koos-Sport Spiritual Gymnastic Flexibility Contest! "These contests are easy for me" he reported. "My Spiritual Spine has been softened up."

++ A suggested new line for OT-7: Spot a Poodle. Spot a spot. Spot a Poodle spot. Bad dog.

++ Final 1999 AP "Enemies of the OSA" poll results (number of 1st place votes in parenthesis) Rank Name 1998 ranking ---- --------------------- ------------ 1. Bob Minton (8,000,000) 2 2. Jesse Prince 3 3. Keith Henson 5 4. Grady Ward 4 5. Zenon Panoussis 9 6. Mark Bunker not ranked 7. Gerry Armstrong 6 8. Jeff Jacobsen 7 9. Stacy Brooks not ranked 10 Rod Keller not ranked Others receiving votes: Kristi Wachter, Arnie Lerma, Gregg Hagglund, Notre Dame (someone always votes for Notre Dame, no matter what the poll is for), Martin Hunt, Androidcat, Ethercat, hep cats, Cat in the Hat, EtherCow ;-), Anti-cult, Anti-cult cult, Anti-cult cult cult, Argon, Neon, Hydrogen, Carbon, Andreas Heldul-Lund, Karin Spaink, Xenubat, Batman, Superman, the Memory of Leo J. Ryan, Cynthia Kisser, Prescilla Coats, Ben Coats, and hundreds more (see the Scieno-sitter list for a more complete listing).

Reminiscent of 1996, when Steve Fishman when from #1 to unranked, last year's #1 target of the OSA, Dennis Erlich, astonishingly dropped completely off this years top ten list. Also dropping off this year's list are former # 1s, Larry Wollersheim and Robert Vaughn Young.

But some things about this year's poll were tried and true. For the 36th year in a row, the vote for the top OSA(formerly GO) Enemy was unanimous, with all 8 million Scientologists voting to make Bob Minton their 1999 number one enemy. Bob moves up one spot, from his #2 spot of a year ago. He is followed by Jesse Prince, and Keith Henson, who surpassed supressive[1] Grady Ward for the third spot. Moving up this year's list (with a bullet) are Zenon Panoussis and XenuTV producer, cameraman, and editor, Mark Bunker. Along with Bunker, others appearing for the first time on the OSA top ten target list are Stacy Brooks and ARS Week in Review publisher Rod Keller.

Congratulations to all top ten finishers. Smile for the cameras! Look over your shoulders once in a while and SPOT the OSA paid PIs who are following you to the airport. ;-) [1] - where have you ever seen the phrase "surpassed suppressive" used correctly in a sentence, before? Clambytes is proud to once again plow new ground using the English language.

++ "I miss getting a good "woody" every once in a while"

- anonymous poster to a.r.s ++ Rhetorical Question: Ain't it cool? Isn't it cool? Is it not cool?

++ Let's do an experiment of the mind, shall we? Imagine if you will, that we all have immortal souls. Imagine too, that there is an all-forgiving God, who lets every single human soul into heaven after the person dies. Imagine that he lets in even those people that would go straight to the burning, festering pits of hell, were He just a tad bit more judgmental and/or discriminating.

In such a heaven, can there be any doubt that at this very moment, Andy Kaufman would have L. Ron Hubbard in a headlock as they wrestled in a vat of waist deep mud? I think not.

++ Suggested new line for OT-7: Spot a settlement.

++ Business News: New ISO committee forms.

The proposed ISO 75 Trillion Standard will insure standardized Standards for Applying Standardly Delivered Standard Technology Standard Standards. Earthlink and Digital Lightwave are competing to be the first (and only) companies to gain ISO 75trillion compliance certification.

++ [Paid Advertisement] [The scene is a dimly lit room. An obviously sad, dejected woman sits slumped in a straight-back chair, her hair unwashed, wearing a soiled bathrobe. We can tell little about the woman's appearance and age, as her head is down, and the light is very dim. The narrator is seen in the foreground] Hi. I'm Fran Tarkington. I lost every Superbowl I played in. But today I'm here to talk frankly with you about a completely different unpleasant subject. I'm here to talk about the way your smell. Not your ability to smell, but the way you smell to others.

Friends, do you suffer from morning breath? Poor personal hygiene?

Body odor? DasFoot odor? Obnoxious gaseous emissions? Vaginal yeast infections?

None of these relatively mild annoyances can compare to the personal embarrassment, the total humiliation, the complete isolation you suffer when you have even a mild case of Kendrick Moxon. Yes, friends, its true, the dreaded condition Kendrick Moxon is the stinkiest, most foul-smelling condition known to mankind. And it's spreading.

[Scene change: We see the woman from behind, closing her bedroom curtains to a beautiful sunny day outside, as she crawls into bed and pulls the covers up over her, still wearing the soiled bathrobe.] Having Kendrick Moxon won't kill you, but it will practically guarantee that no one else will have a thing to do with you.

[Zoom in and amplify the ticking sound of the alarm clock next to the bed.] But don't despair, because now there's hope.

[Scene change: woman is now seen in the harsh light of a bathroom, a medicine cabinet is open, and she is rubbing some cream on her arms.

She still wears the bathrobe, and is unadorned. But now she can be seen to be young and attractive. Her face shows a somewhat curious, even hopeful look.] You need not suffer any longer. We have found the complete cure for your embarrassment. We offer a swift end to your isolation.

[Zoom in on a small tube in the woman's hand] The answer is right here, in the new miracle cream called "NoMoMoxon."

[Scene changes again. Now the woman, who it turns out, is quite a buxom, athletic, foxy babe, is seen playing volleyball on a beach, wearing only a tiny bikini, with many handsome men and gorgeous women all about her. She is very happy.] Just rub the ARSCC approved "NoMoMoxon" anti-Kendrick Moxon cream on your inflicted areas, and within minutes, you'll be sweet smelling once again. Be a winner. Say "no" to Kendrick Moxon and get back into the game.

[Close up of woman as she dives and digs the volleyball out of the sand, image freezes with her face in a big smile (not to mention her sizeable cleavage)] Get "NoMoMoxon", and take back your life. Call the toll-free number on your screen now.

[The still image of the woman's smiling face and full cleavage fades to black and white while the 800 number text appears in the foreground.] Have your credit card ready, and call 1 (800) NOSTINK, that's One Eight Hundred, En Owe Ess Tee Eye En Kay to order your "NoMoMoxon"

today. Operators are standing by. ("NoMoMoxon" is a registered trademark of the ARSCC Commercial Products Division.)

[Paid Advertisement] ++ Clambytes presents: L.Ron Hubbard's Old West Theater [Our play begins as two Scientologist cowboys are sitting around the campfire, reflecting on the day's toil, as they drive their herd of cattle along the old Santa Fe trail towards Kansas City, where they will be slaughtered] [Credits:

The role of Clem is be played by wgert The role of Lafayette is be played by DasFoot ] [Curtain rises on an outdoor campfire scene. It is nighttime.] Lafayette: Hey Clam, I see you got the fire going.

What-cha writin with that piece of charcoal on that driftwood?

Clem: I'm writin up a 'Kay' 'Are' on ya.

Lafayette: A 'Kay' 'Are'? What fur? I ain't done nothing wrong.

Clem: I seen you doing the old in-out2D with that cow down in the gully right after noontime. You tried makin out like it was headin off down there on it's own, but I thought you was drivin it down there.

Lafayette: You what? You follered me? You seen me?

Clem: Yep. I got kinda suspicious when you was trying that messenger girl skirt on all the cattle las' night.

Lafayette: Dang. I thought you was sleepin.

Clem: The Cow Org never sleeps, Lafayette. Besides, the traffic noise here along I-40 keeps me awake.

Lafayette: Yeah, well.... You gotta admit, Bessie did look awful purty in that little skirt, din't she? Huh? Din't she?

Clem: She? We're driving steers.

Lafayette: Steers? Er, yeah, well don't make no nevermind to me. I love my Bessie. And she did look cute. Admit it.

Clem: I ain't sayin. If'n I was to say yes, you'd write up a 'Kay' 'Are' on me. Then we'd both be in trouble, an then you'd try to get me to fergit the whole thing, by tradin favors with me. An I'd say okay. So as much as I'd like to say, shore yore Bessie is as cute as a bug in that skirt, I ain't gonna. I'm gonna turn yer ass in ta the ethics officer, soon as we hit 'Kay' 'See.' Lafayette: You is way too smart fer me.

Clem: An how many times to I have to tell you to stop namin the cows? Theys gonna all be slaughtered when we get to 'Kay' 'See.' Lafayette: Theys gonna be slaughtered?

Clem: Yeah, course they is.

Lafayette: You mean, they ain't gonna slaughter us when we get to Kansas City?

Clem: No, you dummy. The cattle, they're gonna slaughter the cattle. Where'd you get the fool idea they was gonna slaughter us?

Lafayette: Up there at the top o this bit, it says "as they drive their herd of cattle along the old Santa Fe trail towards Kansas City, where they will be slaughtered"

Clem: You dummy. You ain't supposed to be reading the parts in the little square brackets. Jes read yore own lines. And let me do the thinking fer both of us.

Lafayette: Okay. Let's see, where was I then.... okay, here it is. Hey Clam, pass me some of them beans.

Clem: Dangit Lafayette, my name is Clem. Stop callin' me Clam.

Lafayette: Sorry, Clem. I guess I been doing too many handlin's on a.r.s lately. Them criminal guys gets under yer skin after a while.

Clem: Oh, that's alright. Hold yer dad-gum tin over here a little closer and I'll dish you up some beans. OUCH!

There's one. OUCH! There's one. OUCH! There's one.

OUCH!....

Lafayette: Parden me fer sayin so, Clem, I know how you hate havin your cookin criticized, but next time, wouldn't it be mite easier if'n you was to cook the beans in a cookpot, 'stead of jest throwin em into the fire like that?

Clem: Dangit Lafayette, don't be tellin me what to do. I'm OT 7 an yore jes OT-5.

Lafayette: Okay, okay. Hey, load me up on some of that rice, too.

Clem: Dang, I was hopin you wouldn't be wantin any of the rice tonight. OUCH, there's one, OUCH, there's one.

[two hours later] Lafayette: That was a fine meal. 'Cept the beans was a bit cold by the time you dished up my rice. Hey, ain't you gonna have none?

Clem: Naw, my hands is too 'clankin' sore to dish out any more.

Lafayette: Speakin 'a pain, my ass feels like the whole herd stomped acrost it. Sittin in that saddle ever' day fer hours is more'n any man...

Clem: You gotta be three feet back.

Lafayette: Say what?

Clem: Three feet back's what I said. Ain't you been doing yer lessons?

Lafayette: Well, sort of, well, hell, I been gettin a little behind...

Clem: You can be three feet back of yore saddle. 'Ell" 'Are' 'Aitch' says so. Yore asshole don't have to hurt no more.

Lafayette: Is that how you got horseshit splashed all over yore boots?

Clem: What? [looking at his boots] Dang!

Lafayette: So yore tellin me yore asshole don't hurt none?

Clem: Nope. Not one bit.

Lafayette: Now wait a sec. I seen you rubbin it today.

Clem: I never did.

Lafayette: You did so, you lying bast...

Clem: You criminal bigot!

Lafayette: You is really pissin me off, Clem. Me n'Bessie is blowin this little cattle drive.

Clem: If'n you blow, you'll die, you'll never make it across the bridge to 'Kay' 'See'.

Lafayette: I'll die anyway. An who wants to go to 'Kay' 'See' if'n theys gonna kill Bessie there anyhow? I jes want to be happy with her, er him, out here in the wide open spaces.

We'll do jes fine without none a this three feet back splashing horseshit. C'mon Bessie...

Clem: Okay, but I cain't be involved with you no more if'n you ain't gonna be followin Source.

Lafayette: That suits me jes fine. I never did like you all that much anyhow, with all yore infernal spyin on me, and always writin up 'Kay' 'Are's on me, and always pesterin me to sign up for more courses... Besides, ya stink to high heaven. You oughta get yerself checked for that moxon desease.

[Lafayette leads Bessie the cow, wearing a messenger girl's skirt, into the darkness] Clem: [under his breath] Dang. [then shouting] Lafayette, a'fore you leave, what's yore mailin address?

[curtain falls] ++ Let's play "Guess who said it, on a.r.s ?"

Which a.r.s "critical" personality claimed, in all earnestness, that the OSA has finally wised up?

(answer at the end) ++ [Paul Harvey mode ON] Did you know that John Travolta's son Jett is not named after the noun jet, not named because John Travolta flies his own private jets wherever he goes. No, Jett is named after Jettero Heller, one of the protagonists in one of L.Ron Hubbard's stiff and awful science fiction novels.

Now you know the rest of the story.

[Paul Harvey mode OFF] ++ Some Celebrity Scientologist Quotes:

"He's not going to say anything to you. Don't look at Him. Sign this paper saying you won't look at Him. Give me your camera. I said give me your camera. He's not coming out here till you sign this and give me your camera" - Tom Cruise's publicist "I loved the doingness of bagging groceries" - Jenna Elfman "We're alive" - Kirstie Alley "I'm ugly" - Lisa Marie Presley (yeah, and she can't sing either) ++ "I still haven't found, what I'm looking for"

- U2 ++ Speaking of classic rock music, I like the music of Sting, both back when he was with the band "The Police, and then later as a solo artist. Isn't it nice that John Travolta saved Sting's life by giving him a touch assist? I think we need to collectively thank him for that. No matter that Sting doesn't remember this, nor even remember being at death's door. No matter.

Thanks you, John, thanks for saving Sting's life.

++ I think I'll avoid the rush and start my Christmas trucing early this year. Maybe I can have it all done by Thanksgiving.

++ DasFoot Brand [tm] Joke:

"Uh, see, there's this criminal guy, and he, he, he, he, he does all kinds of bad suppressive bigot stuff, so, so, so people start calling him Duh! Ha Ha Ha Ha, I crack myself up."

++ I just heard on the radio that great new alternative music hit single "Fly Me to the Implant Station" by Xenu and the Marcabs ++ (answer to "Guess who said it, on a.r.s": Diane Richardson) Michael Reuss Honorary Kid

Go Back