Age Golden of science fiction a man arrived on the scene. He stories were less sciencey, more fiction and dream. He didn't come in a car, he didn't come on a bike. He didn't come in the pouch of a Stripedy Snike. He came on the back of a looping motor kite.
[Hubbard said:] "A penny a word?", "of time that's a waste". Too make a million dollars you must start your own faith. So he trundled to his typewriter and banged out the beast. The bible of scientology, in less than twelve weeks. "Clears never forget things or get sneezy seeps". "Hold onto cans soupy on my past life machine". "You'll think you are dirty and pay for soul clean". "You'll make up past lives, past pains and past facts". "You'll dream of froofroos and selenium snacks". "You'll dream of emporer Xenu and his glittering shack".
[Xenu said:] "There's too many of you, you're crambled like sheep". "There's no room for my fwoodles and thirteen toed fweep". He tossed them in volcanoes head over feet. He put big atom bombs all over the tops. And then set them all off with a very loud POP. Xenu bundled their souls in threes, fours and twos. He gathered them all, even little Timmy KoosKoos and packaged them off to Los Palamoos.
[Hubbard said:] "My cult will grow large and they'll pay lots of dues". "They'll eat beans and rice and they'll never read news". "They'll stare through red eyes wearing toe crampity shoes". "And sell lots of books by Thursday at two". "The money will flow, a million a week". "My shirts girls will wash, of soap they won't reek".
And then Hubbard grew crazy, grew old and he died. And out of the ashes more rose to spread lies.
Tricksters through ages have followed one phrase. There will always be people who will believe any craze.
Will you?
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