By Aaron Fleming & Duke De Mondo
Duke De Mondo
By way of wrasslin’ the afternoon to the pavings, of wringing from the bronchus of the day a couple umber-hued globs of experience and enlightenment, myself and Sir Fleming - being too skint for to hire thon prostitute from down the road for twenty minutes - decided that the very thing to do was to wander in the direction of the Church of Scientology on Tottenham Court Road and maybe get rid of that ol’ bastard of a reactive mind plaguing the bejeesus out the both of us morning till night.
To have the thetans wrenched the fuck from off our brains and off our ball-bags, to have the buggers chased the divil off our backs, to have them bid shoo out the doors of that white-walled hub, to watch them take off screaming and cursing up the street in phantasmal, miasmic streaks - worth an hour of anyone’s time, that.
To learn of L. Ron and of Johnny Goodboy Tyler and of the wily whys and wherefores of the dianetics, yes.
‘I had a friend of a time who was dianetic’ says I to Sir Fleming, stepping out the way of a fella coming out the door of a blue-lit sex-shop. ‘Insulin and a mouthful of Mars Bar every so often - proved the very boys for that.’ Considering this… ‘Probably the thetans are allergic to Mars Bars, would you say?’
Sir Fleming nods. ‘I’d imagine that’s the way of it. Toffee Crisp too, probably. And God help them should a Yorkie cross their paths.’
I give a hoot and a wag of a finger. ‘Ho, now! By fuck. Woe betide the thetan when the Yorkie gets a hold o’ the hoor.’
Tending a stall set up outside Ray’s Jazz Café, a couple lads hand out tracts with “Jesus, Mohammad, Buddha - Peace Be With Them All” written on the front. In passing, I reflect upon the story of Jesus chasing the thetans out the brains of the centurion’s daughter, and also upon His temptation in the desert by the Psychlos. Of Johnny Goodboy Tyler and his coat of many colours. Of Moses bringing the Knowledge Machine down from Mount Sinai, and of the auditing of the Israelites in Canaan.
Aaron Fleming
With the lusty scent of Foyles wafting off into the distance we stroll ever closer, the Duke and I, to Scientology’s temple. The iridescent display of electronics shops, disjointed by the rhythmic flow of workers freed from the day’s labour, propels us up Tottenham Court Road, shoving and shuffling and bursting with repressed salacious flair.
Article comments
1 - El Bicho
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.
2 - Anonymous
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.
3 - DukeDeMondo
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.
4 - Satire?
tL:dR. Begin = ++good. Language = ungood
Satirical, fictional story involving the Co$ = pricele$$
5 - Phillip Winn
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.
6 - duane
Great stuff. Tag team BS detection. Looking forward to the next installment.
7 - Aaron Fleming
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.
8 - ostrova
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.
9 - DukeDeMondo
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.
10 - Bennett
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!