<also posted to OCMB>

Finally got some time to write, so here are some more tidbits about my week in LA:

The biggest deal was, of course, the May 9th event picket. My new t-shirt was a hit. I had a bunch of different Scientology event promotional t-shirts from past years, and got a slogan added to them: "I WORKED 25 YEARS FOR SCIENTOLOGY AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT." That even got a grin from a public Scientologist on his way into the parking lot.

Although there's a very high turnover in the newer Sea Org members, there are also a lot who have been around for many, many years. Most of these know me very well--I was one of them. As long as I was living far away and just posting on the internet, which SO members aren't allowed to read anyway, I must not have seemed too much a threat to the mind-control program. But there I was, a well-known, formerly well-liked, former SO veteran, walking around with the devil herself, complete with horns, and carrying a red, octagonal sign exhorting Scientology to "Stop Hurting Families." What could be worse? What would the inmates think?

We all passed out many Xenu and other educational fliers. We each encountered dozens of passersby who supported our exposure of Scientology's deceptions and criminality. Guess how many people defended Scientology or took issue with us (other than their own staff or staff-directed "volunteers"). That's right: NONE. Goose egg.

Several of the people who took our handouts wanted to ask us questions or tell us of their own encounters with Scientology or Scientologists. During one of these discussions, one of the Ronbabes (who lurk outside the LRH Life Exhibition, trying to lure people in to hear Hubbard's fictional life story) yelled out to the gentleman I was conversing with, "Don't listen to him! He stole TONS of money from the Church!" This couldn't have come at a more opportune moment, since I had just been explaining to him the tactics the church uses to discredit and defame anyone who speaks out against its abuses. He got the point.

Later, another Ronbabe, seeing this same gentleman holding one of our fliers, deftly snatched it out of his hand, saying, "You don't need that!"

I don't think she ever realized he had another flier in his pocket.

The testing center picket was much like the HGB one. At the Shrine, though, it was wall-to-wall Scientologists and Sea Org members. Several dozen event crew (SO members) who had been dining outdoors were ordered inside, to protect them from learning of Wollersheim's victory or from reading the word "Xenu" and collapsing on the spot. Or from wondering why their old buddy was now a vocal critic of their cult.

It was all in vain. Hundreds more SO members, and thousands of public, saw us and saw our signs, and, as Tory described, the antics of the Scientology Parishioners League and their sidekicks only drew more attention to the signs.

One of the sidekicks was pretending to want to get in a picture we were taking of our little band of picketers. Tory told him it was OK, come on over. I added, "We always leave the door open, even if it's only a crack"

(parodying Hubbard's policy of leaving "the door open, only [sic] if it's just a crack" for SPs to return to Scientology by doing their "A to E"

steps). Our esteemed clam was not amused. His reply: "We know what crack *you're* holding open!"

Now if that ain't a shining example of all that's best in Scientology, I don't know what is.

Many of my former co-workers evinced expressions ranging from incredulity to open hostility. Others pretended they could not see or hear me. There was one I felt bad about, because a few years back I had "helped" him with word clearing and ethics to stay in the SO when he was about to leave. I tried to talk to him, but he was too thoroughly "handled," and could only yell at me:

"What are you on? Prozac? Paxil? Or Darvon? That's it, you must be on Darvon!" and "Were you really jerking off as much as it says in your ethics folder?"

Clearly he, and anyone else I left behind in the Sea Org who had known me particularly well, was given an extra-special dose of "DA" to clarify how the last person in the world anybody thought would leave, had not only left, but had turned traitor as well.

There you have it: Proof positive that LRH tech *does* work. And as far as it being a religion, I mean, come on, how much more religious can you get?

-----

After we had worn out our welcome at the Shrine, we all retired to a small French restaurant and had a *much* better dinner than anybody attending or putting on the event. As far as I can recall, no clams were eaten.

When I first arrived in LA and told a Scientology staff member I was there (two days before the picket), they were friendly and willing to talk and even to follow through on their previous promise to help me find a job in LA, even though I was a declared SP (so they said--I've yet to see an issue), and even though I had told them this would not make me shut up or go away. Obviously, they still had visions of "handling" me somehow. After the picket, though, all traces of warmth and fuzziness departed from their demeanor. My only "terminal" (contact) is now the "Injustice Chief"--oh, wait a sec ... OK ... OK, got it. Sorry, that was "INT Justice Chief." That must have been a Hubbardian slip.

A couple days later, when Tory and I drove up to the Int Base security gate at Gilman Hot Springs, before I could say a word, the Hitler Youth, I mean Hubbard Youth security guard was yelling, "Get out of here! Go on, get out of here!" over and over, with a fearsome snarl on his face, and making shoo-ing motions with his hands, from inside his glass booth. Properly terrified, we beat a hasty retreat.

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I never realized that when I came to L.A. I'd be just as busy as when I'm working! That week, actually six days, seemed like several months, so much happened. Wollersheim and Caberta, the picket, the party, Hemet, the events with Stacy and Bob, my job hunt and my negotiations with Scientology to see if they'd keep their word about helping me.

I met many SPs (most of whom would prefer not to have their identities revealed), and spent many hours talking with them. They're the nicest people in the world. Some small remnant of PSDS (Post-Scientology Delusion Syndrome), that I had not known even existed, cracked loose and dissipated.

When you're in Scientology, all friendships, in fact all relationships of any kind, including love and marriage, are conditional. They're conditional upon how you think, how you believe, how you act--not with respect to the other, but with respect to the standards of an external organization and its dead founder. If you cease believing something that's untrue and no longer possible to believe, your friendships and relationships of years or decades go up in a small puff of smoke and vanish in the breeze. Those of you who've experienced this know exactly what I'm talking about. Those who've never been in Scientology (or other cults that behave this way) can understand, sympathize, or be outraged, but can never know (thank God) the feeling of going through life knowing you can never have real friends (or be a real friend). If you stay in Scientology, this feeling is soon submerged, and it becomes "normal" for all friendships to have that little nagging condition tagged onto them.

You know that if you leave, they'll all turn their backs on you. You know if one of them leaves, you'll turn your back on him or her. That's normal.

That's how friendships are. That's the game we all signed up for.

Now, suddenly, after 26 years, here I was, in the midst of people who were just--friends. No strings attached. It's one thing to know or remember something exists. It's another thing entirely to experience it.

Pretty cool.

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Sunday was my day of rest--relatively speaking. I had a nice drive up to the Mount Wilson Observatory. You know that one patch of ground, before you come to the parking area, that's bristling with tall antennae? One of those beams straight to Xenu in his volcanic prison. I gave the password, entered the transmitter room, and made my report of a most successful mission. His Excellency was pleased as punch.

After that I visited the telescope domes, catching the tail end of the walking tour as it ended in the 100" telescope enclosure. One of the tourists was an exchange student from Germany, on vacation. I had on one of my "lousy" t-shirts, and we got to talking about Scientology. I gave him fliers. They know what's going on over there ... its our own damn senators and congressmen who are pestering them lay off Scientology.

I would suggest that a lot of letters--with hard facts--from concerned citizens to their representatives in the U.S. Congress might help the Germans in curtailing Scientology's abuses over there. Right now their hands are somewhat tied because of Scientology's campaign of lies to these same politicians, resulting in censure and threats against the German government for so-called religious persecution, with the inevitable spurious parallels to Nazi oppression.

Another couple noticed my shirt and spoke with me. They already knew about www.xenu.net. So many do! Go, Andreas, go!

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That's about all I could get past the ARSCC(wdne) Censorship Committee. The rest will just have to wait for sunnier times.

Best to you all,

-- Dang ARSCC(wdne) Mobile Unit I/C and SWAT Team Leader (Suppression, Woggery, ARC-Breaks, and 'Turbulation) by the grace of Xenu, amen dang_357 <at> skyenet <dot> net

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