Episode 2: My first picket By now many of you will have read some of the reports on the first ever picket of the Edmonton Church of Scientology.

Edmonton Entheta posted one report in which he mentioned bumping into an interested passerby on the way to the picket.

That random passerby was me, and in fact wasn't quite as random as had been let on.

I had, in fact, read there was going to be a picket well in advance. For a while, I toyed with the idea of going to picket with them, but decided I would rather try and see things from a more impartial viewpoint. I dropped by the org on my way back from buying a CD (our CD collection is terribly deficient) and was met at the door by Deborah Jurt. I explained that I had been at the Dianetics workshop at City Hall, and as I was in the neighbourhood, I thought I might drop in and continue the conversation which had been cut short there. She politely told me that they were just going into a meeting, and asked if I could come back another time. She asked my name, at which I balked; I wasn't sure which name to give her. (I make it a point to use a different name or at least to spell my name differently on magazine subscriptions so I can track who sells my address to whom. This works just fine so long as my parents don't give me a gift subscription to something or other...)

So I left, and not entirely by accident, ran into Edmonton Entheta and the other picketers a couple of blocks away. I considered just going home and going in to take the personality test another time, but decided it would be much more interesting to observe the picket, so as to see both sides in action. So I ended up tagging along as the picket contingent made their way to the org.

It was remarkable. I've read hundreds of picket reports here on ars, so I sort of knew what to expect, but I was still surprised that all of this stuff was for real. Cameras enough to shame the paparazzi, and with the exception of the professional media representatives there, just about every one of them made a point of getting an intrusive closeup, and making sure YOU KNEW you were being photographed. Of course, the critics had brought their own cameras as well.

It was almost like a battle. Two armies drawing near, the cameras flashing sporadically as they first come into range, growing every more furious as the enemies close. As we crossed the street, I could hear the Scientologist commander directing camera fire: "Get that one. He's one too. And him!"

(Interesting that the press didn't comment on that part at all in their stories.) But the cameras didn't stop the critic advance, and soon it was face-to-face with sharp pointy words.

I was stunned to hear some of the things that were said. I never expected I would actually hear someone say, "Don't you people read any BOOKS?" but that's the first thing one of the Scientologists said to one of the critics. I bit my tongue; I was there as an observer, but there were so many wonderful retorts one could have used: "Yeah. You read any by different authors?" or "I'd read more, but your cohorts keep stealing them from the library and hiding them." Or, if I had felt spiteful, "Why, are you looking for someone to read to you?"

After the initial clash, the press dove in to get statements from representatives of both sides. Since the heavies at this point were occupied giving their stories to reporters, the mood calmed a little. I leaned against the wall and watched for some time as things unfolded. A particularly disturbing scene was when one of the Scientologists taunted one of the picketers, a local ex-scientologist, with embarrassing details from his PC folder. It didn't seem to faze him, mind you, but I was upset to see that they would use such material.

A little later, I ended up getting into a rather interesting discussion with one Scientologist about Dianetics and its various claims. He recommended a number of books, which I intend to read after I recover from finishing Dianetics. One particularly interesting point for me came when I asked him this: "You know, whenever someone is trying to sell me something, there's a little critical thinking exercise I like to use: Can you tell me anything about Scientology that you really don't like?" It stopped him for a moment. I explained that if, for example, someone's trying to get me to buy a particular new car, and he can't tell me anything bad about it, it's usually a safe bet that either (a) the guy isn't being honest, or (b) he doesn't know enough about the car to be giving me useful advice. His first answer was that he didn't like it when people misapplied Scientology, but I pointed out that this wasn't really a something wrong with Scientology per se, just something about the people who misunderstand it. After thinking about it some more, he said that he doesn't like the fact that staff is expected to work seven days a week. He thought that was a bit excessive, which is why he routed off staff. Okay, I thought. Maybe that's a start.

Later, as I was getting ready to go home, this same fellow got into a bit of a shouting match with the picketing former Scientologist about whether or not the latter actually got anything valuable out of Scientology. I perceived a minor misunderstanding which, if clarified, would probably have eased the tension somewhat, and attempted to interject, when the Scientologist snapped at me with surprising hostility, "Who's paying you!?" and ranted for a bit about me being suppressive or something. A passing picketer joked about seeing a real Tone 40, which may well be what the Scientologist thought he was doing, but for a moment he really seemed like a lunatic. I waited for him to calm down, told him what I had been trying to say, and went home.

No one followed me, but seeing as they must have taken a dozen photos of me plus video (and I appear in a couple of the webbed picket photos), and since there were still five or six picketers keeping them busy anyway, I doubt I was a high priority.

The Phobosopher King

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