Travels in Scientology - Part One
Published February 11, 2008
Questions come upon our eyes shone on by robust logos – ornate and brooding, they flank the enclave, staring out at terrace blasphemies, dynamic corners stabbing heathen shards of psychiatry, psychoanalysis and who knows what else. How might two idlers from up North London infiltrate such a compound? How might we possibly feign a sincere interest in the dogma that spawned Battlefield Earth? To what grand enthusiastic gestures must we yield to obtain entrance?
Barely had the above taken form when we were abruptly thrust into the bowels of Scientology land.
“Would you like to take a stress test, gentlemen?” enquires a short woman, treading the pavement in one almighty sweep of the legs.
A rapid glance exchanges between us.
“Ah…yes – fucking right we do,” says I with all too eager zeal in the eyes.
“Take a seat right here.”
She beckons me to a little stool tipped with red leather, obviously sat upon many times. The stool resides at a table, an outcropping of the church, a scintilla of doctrine come tumbling onto the street, secreted by L. Ron Hubbard’s rapid-fire bell-end in times past. Stacked editions of Dianetics adorn the table, creating a fort-like shape around the stress detector.
“Take those tins in your mitts; your friend can go watch a video while we do the test.”
At once she leads the Duke into the glistening interior, where bodies swarm – reactive minds pulsating in the glow, lighted from above and below. His steps fade, voided by unknown corners, leaving me in wait of my impending stress test.
Duke De Mondo
From out a telly screen embedded in the wall, a series of monochrome images flick’r and fizzle and flash - flames lick the bends of a rusted tablespoon, adolescent nostrils quiver with the white-line flu, bared teeth grind and gnash spasmodically, methamphetamine tremors ripple the flesh of purpling gums.
Round about me, various men and women sit clutching aluminium tubes of some sort, grimacing and wincing about errant fathers and lacklustre lovers to folks in red shirts who nod and cluck their tongues and jab at buttons on red-metal stress detector doohickeys and squint at needles erratically lunging.
Craning to see past an Asian lad stood by a mound of CD-ROMS, I inspect the sundry leaflets and tracts stacked here and there about the glass tabletops. DRUGS KILL says one. DRUGS DESTROY says another. A third has some quotes from Chick Corea and John Travlota. DRUGS KILL AND DESTROY says the text at the top.
Posters advertising Dianetics bear the legend - “Buy It. Read It. Live It.” Hoping for a flick-through but finding that all of the innumerable hardback copies are sealed in plastic, I make do with an A5 sheet festooned with the anguished faces of various folks twisted and splintered and bent under the influence of this or that psychological terror. On the reverse side, those same faces shimmer and shine, smiling and laughing, exuding a happiness more than happiness, a serenity transcending serenity.
- Travels in Scientology - Part One
- Published: February 11, 2008
- Type: Opinion
- Section: Culture
- Filed Under: Culture: Religion, Culture: Personal History, Culture: Humor and Satire, Culture: Society
- Writer: Aaron Fleming
- Aaron Fleming's BC Writer page
- Aaron Fleming's personal site
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Comments on this articleComments
No offense meant, but if you take your peas and place them in a nice, neat row, your communication will become more clear. Other than communicating distrust for all things religious, very little comes through. For example, Christianity is based on the idea that God sent his son (allegedly his only son) to Earth as a sort of representative.
Sir Bicho, thank you very much. I'm very glad you enjoyed it.
Anonymous - Admittedly, having two voices telling a tale in segments is going to be a bit disorientating initially, but i hope that perhaps it becomes a touch easier to follow things after the first or second "break". With regards the crux of the whole affair, most likely it'll become that bit clearer with the publication, on wedensday, of the second (and concluding) installment. Christianity is about a lot more, I'd go ahead and posit, than the idea of Christ as God's incarnation / son / representative. There's a lot goin' on in those texts, and a good bit of time is spent in the 2nd slab discussing it, and discussing also the ins and outs of scientology and its philosophy. Consider this a scene-setter, i suppose.
Also, it was purely by accident that this happened to be published on the same day that protests are erupting left and right with regards Scientology and its motives. The last thing either I or, I'm sure, Sir Fleming want is to join in on a witch-hunt, however devious the trickeries of those witches may be.
tL:dR. Begin = ++good. Language = ungood
Satirical, fictional story involving the Co$ = pricele$$
Duke, it is such a pleasure to have your filthy words adorning these pages, I feel I could burst. Your partnership with the Flemster elevates both of your efforts to new heights. I do eagerly await with anticipation the hilarity sure to come in part deux.
And fear not for the Anons and $atires of the world. I'm sure that they will enjoy this essay as they become more familiar with your style and are let down from the tenterhooks on which they are now suspended.
Great stuff. Tag team BS detection. Looking forward to the next installment.
Thanks everyone for the comments.
El B - as much as you tempt with your words of encouragement, I will never give up the dream of dropping from high places assorted pipes - pipes long and short, thick and thin, metal and plastic, perforated and intact...the dream burns on.
Anonymous - indeed, as the Duke says, the impending part two should provide more the type of peas that should please your eyes.
I'm with Anonymous. A lotta highfallutin' language I'm not sure you thunk up too good made it hard to unnerstann. I think it was about some-a those people who Just Say No To Drugs. with Old Mother Hubbard.
Mr Winn, it feels very good to be back about the place, and i'm very glad you enjoyed our romping about. Duane - "tag team BS detection"... that is beautiful, sir.
Ostrova - I'm very sorry you didn't like it. Part two has lots of talk about i needed to take a poo, if that's any consolation.
Masterful!
Rumor has it that at a scifi convention, Heinlein and Hubbard debated the concept of creating a "new" religion and a challenge was issued.
Heinlein wrote Stranger In A Strange Land and Hubbard wrote Dianetics.
Frankly, I'm wishing some one would come along and teach me to speak Martian.
I'm really looking forward to part 2!
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Wonderful read. Writing seems a better use of both your talents rather than dropping pipes in the wee hours o' the morn. I am looking forward to the next installment unless the impending court-ordered injunction makes its way quickly through The Hague.