Travels in Scientology - Part One
Published February 11, 2008
Through the doorway I see Sir Fleming talking enthusiastically with his tester. Most likely, I assume, she’s filling him in on all there is to know about the whole thetan-throttling shebang.
Aaron Fleming
Thoughts resound in the head, a curious blend of frightful anticipation and awkward self-consciousness. The wind of the street dashes by, a rogue London Lite fluttering in the bluster. Hands held out, clutching two silver cylinders, single black wires sprout out the back – umbilical cords feeding into a red box, dials and meters cast across its surface. Might she come back and demand I place these ridiculous cans to my head, to my eyes and ears; perhaps some orificial destination is on the cards? Surely the slab of concrete London on which I sit is not the best place to be ramming metallic objects up one’s unassuming anus!
I tilt for a closer look at the machine, spotting a possible compartment for the electrodes, when she returns. A quick sit down and we’re ready for business.
“Right, this is the stress test, just hold those while I get it set up,” she counsels.
Mocking eyes are felt from those wandering past as I try to countenance a fusion of nonchalance and comical awareness. In part I can’t help mirroring their derision onto my new friend.
“I got to get the needle just right.”
Silence reigns for a moment longer.
“Can I get you to think of a moment in your life when you’ve been very upset, maybe something in your life has caused you great distress?”
I nod.
“Well?”
I watch the needle move with lacklustre momentum around the mid-point of the display.
“I can’t really think of anything,” says I, disappointed in the wretched banality I’ve been reduced to.
“Oh,” she harks, eyeing the needle, “what did you think of just now?”
“When?”
“Just then.”
“A second ago?”
Pause.
“Yes, a second ago.”
“Um,” I stammer, “I was thinking of how I couldn’t think of anything.”
“What do you do?” she asks, summoning the banshees of biography to the table, wailing and scrambling for their own go at the stress test. I assent, swabbing her mind in quotidian splashes of professions and former professions, habitats and former habitats.
“Think of a time when you’ve been really sick,” she continues. “Like had an accident or something,”
“I’m not really one for the old sickness,” I reply. “Never had an accident.”
“Nothing?”
“I’ve…had the flu.”
“Do you get that every year?”
“Maybe every few years.”
“It’s bad?”
“Nah, it’s alright really.”
Her face turns gloomy, outraged to be faced with a body untainted by AIDS, a figure not yet ravaged by organ failure, deadly viruses or malicious parasites. Probably should have told her of the time I had the chickenpox.
“I’m afraid I’m not a very stressed person,” I comment in a conciliatory whisper. “Worry and anxiety don’t normally plague me.”
“Yes…seems the case,” she says, clearly spinning a mental carousel of tactics round her head.
- 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.