if you only ever read one post of mine, read this one
if you only ever read one post of mine, read this one:
"I never really thought of myself as a victim.
Your linked-to video voiceless [youtube.com] surprised me. I didn't expect to cry.
Years and years ago, I was heavily involved with the Co$. I bought it hook, line, and sinker. I thought I had the ultimate answer to everything and I was willing to fight for that with my life.
I endured grueling 12+ hour workdays and virtually no pay for a chance to save the world. I practiced how to lie effectively (they call them TRs) and due to my "get it done" attitude, shortly had an office in the International Administration Headquarters in Hollywood, the Flag Command Bureau, as a member of the Sea Org. I had a nice office with a window seat overlooking downtown Hollywood, and I wore a uniform that looked sharp and military, with epaulets on my shoulder!
It's hard to explain just how intoxicating it is to think you have the 100% right answer to all the world's problems. And, as a die-hard Scientologist, that's exactly what you think you have. You can create a beautiful world free of drug abuse, crime, insanity, and war. You just have to apply the tech.
You are on the side of freedom, of knowledge, of truth, of unlimited personal power. And anybody who gets in your way needs to be shut up and rendered powerless by any means necessary. It's that simple!
But, something just wasn't quite right. No matter how hard I tried, I could never quite do enough, or do it right enough. I had trouble getting the books and tapes to fully make sense to me. When I disagreed with what I read, I was sent to endless word clearing where we looked up every single word in the dictionary, one by one to try to find the "MU" or "Mis-Understood [word]". I had trouble getting up on time in the morning. I got sick from time to time, which is proof that I was "PTS" and needed ethics handling. I went through endless "ethics conditions" despite my very, very best intentions. They were very careful to keep me convinced that the problem was me.
It's hard to explain how frustrating it was, to be surrounded by people who are apparently "getting it" and not being able to be one of them, despite having a tested genius IQ, and being able to read just about anything *ELSE* just one time and get it immediately. I thought there was something wrong with ME. I often cried before going to sleep at night.
They had the tech, but who could explain me? When I got to work, I got lots and lots done. I was routinely commended for job well done, for quality work, for "stellar levels of production". It seemed that, when I worked, everything I touched turned to gold. Yet I couldn't make the most amazing technology in the world just make sense to me. I could read a book on mathematics, or aeronautics, or software, and turn right around and do it without any problem. (which is their test for comprehension: can you read it, and APPLY the result immediately?) But I couldn't do the same with Scientology. Something was wrong with me.
So began my fall from greatness. Slowly, surely, over months and years, I lost all my former glory. My job title drifted from the international scale on down through the organization until I finally ended up at the very, very, very bottom.
The RPF.
AKA the Rehabilitation Project Force. It's like prison for Scientologists. You are a bad, bad, dude, or something is very, very wrong with you.
You have exactly 7 hours to sleep in a crowded, slummy, cockroach infested triple-bunk in the basement. You wear black jump suits with colored arm bands. You eat only left overs. You get 1/4 the pay of normal staff. You perform grueling, hard, disgusting work from the time you get up until "personal enhancement time", where you have 2.5 hours of time to read Scientology books and tapes until bed time. You are not permitted to talk to staff "in good standing", though they are free to bark orders at you. You are not permitted to walk. (No kidding!) You must run everywhere you go, and if you are ever caught walking you are made to do push-ups or worse. You must be careful to stay out of public view because you are "out PR".
What is perhaps most amazing to me is that I left, convinced that the problem was me. That, despite my best efforts and honest intentions, I just wasn't a good enough person to pass muster.
It took me years to even question, to even bring up the personal strength to ask if the problem was, in fact, with me. It took years more to admit that, in fact, the problem was NOT with me, that the problem was with Scientology. Even now, Scientology invokes the deepest fear and terror imaginable. If there ever was pure evil, it is Scientology.
The rage, the fear, the anger, the hatred runs deep. I will never, ever, forgive Scientology. And I will never, ever forget. I just hope I can face my fear enough to not let it stop me from marching next month, because I don't think I could actually forgive myself if I don't.
I'm afraid. I'm angry. If you care about decency, if you care about those victims of Scientology, you will be standing next to me, behind a white mask, sign in hand.
Be afraid. Be angry. And ignore my tears."
"I never really thought of myself as a victim.
Your linked-to video voiceless [youtube.com] surprised me. I didn't expect to cry.
Years and years ago, I was heavily involved with the Co$. I bought it hook, line, and sinker. I thought I had the ultimate answer to everything and I was willing to fight for that with my life.
I endured grueling 12+ hour workdays and virtually no pay for a chance to save the world. I practiced how to lie effectively (they call them TRs) and due to my "get it done" attitude, shortly had an office in the International Administration Headquarters in Hollywood, the Flag Command Bureau, as a member of the Sea Org. I had a nice office with a window seat overlooking downtown Hollywood, and I wore a uniform that looked sharp and military, with epaulets on my shoulder!
It's hard to explain just how intoxicating it is to think you have the 100% right answer to all the world's problems. And, as a die-hard Scientologist, that's exactly what you think you have. You can create a beautiful world free of drug abuse, crime, insanity, and war. You just have to apply the tech.
You are on the side of freedom, of knowledge, of truth, of unlimited personal power. And anybody who gets in your way needs to be shut up and rendered powerless by any means necessary. It's that simple!
But, something just wasn't quite right. No matter how hard I tried, I could never quite do enough, or do it right enough. I had trouble getting the books and tapes to fully make sense to me. When I disagreed with what I read, I was sent to endless word clearing where we looked up every single word in the dictionary, one by one to try to find the "MU" or "Mis-Understood [word]". I had trouble getting up on time in the morning. I got sick from time to time, which is proof that I was "PTS" and needed ethics handling. I went through endless "ethics conditions" despite my very, very best intentions. They were very careful to keep me convinced that the problem was me.
It's hard to explain how frustrating it was, to be surrounded by people who are apparently "getting it" and not being able to be one of them, despite having a tested genius IQ, and being able to read just about anything *ELSE* just one time and get it immediately. I thought there was something wrong with ME. I often cried before going to sleep at night.
They had the tech, but who could explain me? When I got to work, I got lots and lots done. I was routinely commended for job well done, for quality work, for "stellar levels of production". It seemed that, when I worked, everything I touched turned to gold. Yet I couldn't make the most amazing technology in the world just make sense to me. I could read a book on mathematics, or aeronautics, or software, and turn right around and do it without any problem. (which is their test for comprehension: can you read it, and APPLY the result immediately?) But I couldn't do the same with Scientology. Something was wrong with me.
So began my fall from greatness. Slowly, surely, over months and years, I lost all my former glory. My job title drifted from the international scale on down through the organization until I finally ended up at the very, very, very bottom.
The RPF.
AKA the Rehabilitation Project Force. It's like prison for Scientologists. You are a bad, bad, dude, or something is very, very wrong with you.
You have exactly 7 hours to sleep in a crowded, slummy, cockroach infested triple-bunk in the basement. You wear black jump suits with colored arm bands. You eat only left overs. You get 1/4 the pay of normal staff. You perform grueling, hard, disgusting work from the time you get up until "personal enhancement time", where you have 2.5 hours of time to read Scientology books and tapes until bed time. You are not permitted to talk to staff "in good standing", though they are free to bark orders at you. You are not permitted to walk. (No kidding!) You must run everywhere you go, and if you are ever caught walking you are made to do push-ups or worse. You must be careful to stay out of public view because you are "out PR".
What is perhaps most amazing to me is that I left, convinced that the problem was me. That, despite my best efforts and honest intentions, I just wasn't a good enough person to pass muster.
It took me years to even question, to even bring up the personal strength to ask if the problem was, in fact, with me. It took years more to admit that, in fact, the problem was NOT with me, that the problem was with Scientology. Even now, Scientology invokes the deepest fear and terror imaginable. If there ever was pure evil, it is Scientology.
The rage, the fear, the anger, the hatred runs deep. I will never, ever, forgive Scientology. And I will never, ever forget. I just hope I can face my fear enough to not let it stop me from marching next month, because I don't think I could actually forgive myself if I don't.
I'm afraid. I'm angry. If you care about decency, if you care about those victims of Scientology, you will be standing next to me, behind a white mask, sign in hand.
Be afraid. Be angry. And ignore my tears."