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Is there any good in Scientology?

pineapple

Silver Meritorious Patron
Plus you remember that he wiped out his Harley and came back looking for someone to blame for that. He might have realized later, the way it often works with back injuries, that he broke his back. Might have been a vertebrae and he thought it would sound better to say it happened during upper level research because otherwise people would think "wow, has Ron gone PTS?"
The bike accident is several years after this, though. According to Kima Douglas it was shortly after he returned from hiding out in Queens, NY, in the early 70's.

"Mary Sue was ill during the period when he was away in Queens {New York City]. I don't think she'd had sex with her husband for 4-5 years at that time. I was on ship for whole time he was away. I remember the wonderful day of his coming back. People were going past his office, he'd come out and shake hands. I didn't think he was in a good shape. He was very nervous. To me he looked tight, wound up. We took off from Lisbon and went to Las Palmas. Then he took his motorcycle out and came off in an oil slick.

"He broke his arm, three ribs and bruised himself to an unbelievable point. He had massive black bruises, he had really damaged himself."
http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~dst/Library/Shelf/miller/interviews/kima.htm
 

DagwoodGum

Squirreling Dervish
The bike accident is several years after this, though. According to Kima Douglas it was shortly after he returned from hiding out in Queens, NY, in the early 70's.

"Mary Sue was ill during the period when he was away in Queens {New York City]. I don't think she'd had sex with her husband for 4-5 years at that time. I was on ship for whole time he was away. I remember the wonderful day of his coming back. People were going past his office, he'd come out and shake hands. I didn't think he was in a good shape. He was very nervous. To me he looked tight, wound up. We took off from Lisbon and went to Las Palmas. Then he took his motorcycle out and came off in an oil slick.

"He broke his arm, three ribs and bruised himself to an unbelievable point. He had massive black bruises, he had really damaged himself."
http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~dst/Library/Shelf/miller/interviews/kima.htm
Oh, I hadn't even realized you were in the sea org, I had just thought you were on staff a short while in Hawaii. My friend from high school went on the ship as a public because he wanted to meet Ron. He never did meet him but said he could see him signing papers furiously with astonishing rapidity in his office and either wasn't reading them or he was amazingly able to duplicate their content at just a glance. My thought was he was signing off on his letters to Ron w/o reading them.
 

guanoloco

As-Wased
"It is quite aside from the point, but maybe a slight matter of interest, that all of this recent career has been relatively hard on this poor body. I have broken its back, broken its knee, and now have a broken arm because of the strenuousness of these particular adventures. One wonders, then, well, if he is in such good shape, then what is he doing breaking up these bodies? Well, that is the trouble! I have — I have a great difficulty in getting down to the small power level of a body and if suddenly – if something happens in its vicinity – I will suddenly move it or yank it in some direction, and it is very very difficult to keep it in any kind of condition. I’m keeping it alive because it is a symbol and because it is still needful and because it would be upsetting, at least to the wog side of the world, if a symbol of this body were to disappear."

Partial Transcript of RJ67.

ETA: That'll teach me to go and feed me pet crow half way through writing this post and letting pineapple get there first. Doh!

Hubbard...lol.

Dart Smohen tells about Hubbard coming on to his mother only to get punched in the eye by Smohen's granddad.

When Hubbard showed up at the org with a black eye his claim was that he was exterior and walked the body into a wall.

Of course, we mustn't mention that all accidents, illness and injury stem from a PTS sit.
 

strativarius

Inveterate gnashnab & snoutband
Hubbard...lol.

Dart Smohen tells about Hubbard coming on to his mother only to get punched in the eye by Smohen's granddad.

When Hubbard showed up at the org with a black eye his claim was that he was exterior and walked the body into a wall.

Of course, we mustn't mention that all accidents, illness and injury stem from a PTS sit.
We used to call it self-invalidation in scientology, but if I've learned one thing from that experience it is that I should always go with my gut instinct about a situation, and if something doesn't feel right or sound right to me, to have faith in myself and not be swayed by what others are saying and doing.

The number of times I allowed a moment of doubt about the Connodore to be quickly pushed aside because of the conviction that had been instilled in me that he was practically flawless and knew everything often comes back to haunt me now that I am so much wiser as to what the real situation concerning Hubbard actually was.
 

Clay Pigeon

Gold Meritorious Patron
We used to call it self-invalidation in scientology, but if I've learned one thing from that experience it is that I should always go with my gut instinct about a situation, and if something doesn't feel right or sound right to me, to have faith in myself and not be swayed by what others are saying and doing.

The number of times I allowed a moment of doubt about the Connodore to be quickly pushed aside because of the conviction that had been instilled in me that he was practically flawless and knew everything often comes back to haunt me now that I am so much wiser as to what the real situation concerning Hubbard actually was.

I never bought into the sycophantic vision of The Founder while I was in thus not having such folly betrayed I am able to have a clearer vision than most of the extensive and remarkable benefices of the randy old goats work.
 

strativarius

Inveterate gnashnab & snoutband
I never bought into the sycophantic vision of The Founder while I was in thus not having such folly betrayed I am able to have a clearer vision than most of the extensive and remarkable benefices of the randy old goats work.
Well of course you were always much smarter than those of us on this board which is why you are living so high on the hog these days while the rest of us live in utter penury.

How dare you call me a sycophant when you know practically nothing about me.

sycophant
/ˈsɪkəfant/
noun
noun: sycophant; plural noun: sycophants

a person who acts obsequiously towards someone important in order to gain advantage.
synonyms: toady, creep, crawler, fawner, flatterer, flunkey, truckler, groveller, doormat, lickspittle, kowtower, obsequious person, minion, hanger-on, leech, puppet, spaniel, Uriah Heep;
 
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Clay Pigeon

Gold Meritorious Patron
I'm not stung by this as I am possessed of firm dignity based on extensive pro bono work (punctuated with much ribald mischief and excessive use of illicit substances) over my seven decades

However, it is cold and rainy in San Francisco today and I am grateful for the dry warmth the library will grant me until 6PM. Maybe I will cry myself to sleep tonight as I have many hundreds of nights since being blockaded from my dearly beloved sons or maybe I won't.

I have stood in harm's way over noble principles I value more than my own life Stratsie and taken bitter hard shots leaving lasting damage for it but such is a common fate for all who are truly captivated by the stern augustan prose of Sir Winston Churchill.

I didn't call you a sycophant Stratsie but it is by your own statement you were caught up in the official CoS version of LRH. If you were yourself a sycophant you would be one still.

The whitewashed Hubbard is part of the koolaid. Those who drank the koolaid and have spat it out are much less likely to recall the wine of it

And what wine there is!

Nor I do I envy those who material well being exceeds my own. I am very seriously professing christion and the Instruction Manual directs that we the faithful be content so long as we have our food and clothing. Moreover, though my health is such that it's about 50-50 that I'll see another Xmas in corpore I am embarked on an effort to have an Amendment I have composed make it to the floor of the US Congress and this is widely considered to be a high level of metaphysical wealth

But...

Please my friend, unruffle thy fine feathers. No such contumely as a charge of sycophancy has passed my lips..,
 

Gib

Crusader
in the beginning is the decision to be,

in the beginning of dianetics the decision was there was a clear, and in the beginning of scientology, there was the decision of OT.

LOL

No clears, no OT's.
 

Gib

Crusader
There was a tape played for staff of LRH announcing OT8 in the late 70's.

(That was when that level was supposed to give you total control of the MEST universe.)

He mentioned he had broken his back 3 times, if I recall correctly.

Update: Sorry it should be 'total cause over the MEST universe'. 'Control' is too low toned.;)
no, the story of his breaking his back is in RJ67, which is OT3, the wall of fire.

Now, if you understand Hubbard's rhetoric, classical rhetoric of ethos, pathos and ethos, you'll understand Hubbard's persuasion. He talks of clears and OT's. ROFLMAO

Here's the tape:

 

TomKat

Patron Meritorious
"It is quite aside from the point, but maybe a slight matter of interest, that all of this recent career has been relatively hard on this poor body. I have broken its back, broken its knee, and now have a broken arm because of the strenuousness of these particular adventures. One wonders, then, well, if he is in such good shape, then what is he doing breaking up these bodies? Well, that is the trouble! I have — I have a great difficulty in getting down to the small power level of a body and if suddenly – if something happens in its vicinity – I will suddenly move it or yank it in some direction, and it is very very difficult to keep it in any kind of condition. I’m keeping it alive because it is a symbol and because it is still needful and because it would be upsetting, at least to the wog side of the world, if a symbol of this body were to disappear."
This RJ67 quote vs the real story pretty conclusively prove that by 1967 LRH was knowingly hoaxing the whole OT thing. But I think that in the 50s, he believed it was possible.
 

lotus

stubborn rebel sheep!
I never bought into the sycophantic vision of The Founder while I was in thus not having such folly betrayed I am able to have a clearer vision than most of the extensive and remarkable benefices of the randy old goats work.
Oh no Birdie you were not bought into the sycophant vision of the flunder when you were in...only by his wonderful tech and research....
What a great body of work he left mankind!

Hey ????

Don't make the mistake of thinking you were smarter Birdie, none of us who were Hubtard blind followers have been smart, wise and clever...if we would listen to our intuition, we would have been. You still are surfing on your cognitive dissonances although most of people here found the courage to give up to their illusions and dellusion...However your beliefs belong to you and I respect it..but you never will convinced anoynone here you are one of those smart unique phenomanon... as you got the wonders of Ze pseudo tehhhhhhhhkkkkkkkkkk that we didn't got yet!

:cool:
 

Clay Pigeon

Gold Meritorious Patron
About eight or ten years ago I was driving cab in Boston on a Sunday 24hr "iron man" shift. It was late in January and I pulled out of the lot at 247 Hyde Park Avenue in the cold 4:00 AM darkness and turned north. A little more than 22 hours of continuous driving later, about 2:30 Monday morning I dropped off a fare on Commonwealth Ave out near Cleveland Circle and decided to pack it in. Crossing Washington I pulled into the Econo Gas station and filled the tank. I pulled out, turned inbound and made the U-turn over the trolley tracks a few yards up the road and - uhoh - somethings wrong; I think my left front tire went flat as I'm sitting at Wash and Comm waiting for the green light so I can turn left. Gruesome thought. It's friggin' cold f'crissakes. I'm in my late fifties and feeling it and twentytwo straight hours of hacking the megalopolis is a thing I often do but by golly it can leave a body feeling a mite tired; gruesome the thought of changing tires. The light went green and I turned left then pulled to the side and hopped out. Nope. Tire is still round top to bottom. But something is wrong with the front end. Seriously wrong. The garage is maybe six miles off; cross Brookline on Washington to Brookline Village, left on Rte 9 to South Huntington down past The Monument to Forest Hills, zigzag at the station, five more blocks and home. I put it in gear and tenderly gingerly drive south, mostly staying under ten mph but the suspension is growling like it's auditioning for a seat in the BSO in their next production of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring". The front wheel, little by little is getting stiffer; down South Street I no longer need to apply the brake, just come off the gas and it stops in place...

But...

We make it. Turn right into the lot and all I got to do is park the damned thing. I turn to the left to get square with the building then to back against the chain link fence but THUNK! Halfway into the turn the ball joint gives out all the way. I get out and look and there's the front wheel caved in at a steep angle making an exquisite visual rhyme with cab set askew at a perfect 45 degrees in the middle of the lot like a diva taking a bow at the final curtain...

O yeah!

Pearly Sweetcakes and a coolwater sandwich on a Sunday-go-to-meeting-bun!

Twentytwo hours I rode that old shitbox beater of taxicab all through the rough and icy streets of Bahhstin with a worn out ball joint ready to give.

And give it did. Half way and not until I'd done my full days work and filled the tank. And then it dangled for six miles of dramatic tension to make it to the checkered flag and not one foot more...

O Yeah!

Proof of mind over matter?

No.

Of course not.

Neither in forensic nor scientific terms is it proof of anything whatsoever.

Nor is it an isolated incident; I got a full deck with Jokers of such rare vignettes, a significant data base I can use for further research. I'm not going to say I make definitive statements about this but the database is too large to be dismissed as coincidence


Gibby...

You can howl "NO OT'S" at the top of your lungs until the Dodgers return to Brooklyn or the Vikings win the Super Bowl but you ain't gonna get that lame crap past me chum...
 

Bill

Gold Meritorious Patron
About eight or ten years ago I was driving cab in Boston on a Sunday 24hr "iron man" shift. It was late in January and I pulled out of the lot at 247 Hyde Park Avenue in the cold 4:00 AM darkness and turned north. A little more than 22 hours of continuous driving later, about 2:30 Monday morning I dropped off a fare on Commonwealth Ave out near Cleveland Circle and decided to pack it in. Crossing Washington I pulled into the Econo Gas station and filled the tank. I pulled out, turned inbound and made the U-turn over the trolley tracks a few yards up the road and - uhoh - somethings wrong; I think my left front tire went flat as I'm sitting at Wash and Comm waiting for the green light so I can turn left. Gruesome thought. It's friggin' cold f'crissakes. I'm in my late fifties and feeling it and twentytwo straight hours of hacking the megalopolis is a thing I often do but by golly it can leave a body feeling a mite tired; gruesome the thought of changing tires. The light went green and I turned left then pulled to the side and hopped out. Nope. Tire is still round top to bottom. But something is wrong with the front end. Seriously wrong. The garage is maybe six miles off; cross Brookline on Washington to Brookline Village, left on Rte 9 to South Huntington down past The Monument to Forest Hills, zigzag at the station, five more blocks and home. I put it in gear and tenderly gingerly drive south, mostly staying under ten mph but the suspension is growling like it's auditioning for a seat in the BSO in their next production of Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring". The front wheel, little by little is getting stiffer; down South Street I no longer need to apply the brake, just come off the gas and it stops in place...

But...

We make it. Turn right into the lot and all I got to do is park the damned thing. I turn to the left to get square with the building then to back against the chain link fence but THUNK! Halfway into the turn the ball joint gives out all the way. I get out and look and there's the front wheel caved in at a steep angle making an exquisite visual rhyme with cab set askew at a perfect 45 degrees in the middle of the lot like a diva taking a bow at the final curtain...

O yeah!

Pearly Sweetcakes and a coolwater sandwich on a Sunday-go-to-meeting-bun!

Twentytwo hours I rode that old shitbox beater of taxicab all through the rough and icy streets of Bahhstin with a worn out ball joint ready to give.

And give it did. Half way and not until I'd done my full days work and filled the tank. And then it dangled for six miles of dramatic tension to make it to the checkered flag and not one foot more...

O Yeah!

Proof of mind over matter?

No.

Of course not.

Neither in forensic nor scientific terms is it proof of anything whatsoever.

Nor is it an isolated incident; I got a full deck with Jokers of such rare vignettes, a significant data base I can use for further research. I'm not going to say I make definitive statements about this but the database is too large to be dismissed as coincidence


Gibby...

You can howl "NO OT'S" at the top of your lungs until the Dodgers return to Brooklyn or the Vikings win the Super Bowl but you ain't gonna get that lame crap past me chum...
You have a big "misunderstood". "OTs" are people who, through Scientology's "OT Levels", have (re)gained supernatural powers. Such people don't exist. Never have. Never will.

If you wish to talk about paranormal powers, well, those just might exist. As far as I know, there are no known techniques for creating or enhancing those powers.

There are no Scientology OTs. That is the absolute, never disproven truth.
 

Clay Pigeon

Gold Meritorious Patron
I wouldn't know about the confidential upper levels Bill, I never studied them.

However, I certainly found the books and lower levels to contain much that have most certainly enhanced, expanded, awakened my esoteric abilities and capacities.

But...

I would no more send a person into the Miscavage CoS for training than I would send a horny dude to a starving cannibal for some fellatio.
 

Bill

Gold Meritorious Patron
I wouldn't know about the confidential upper levels Bill, I never studied them.

However, I certainly found the books and lower levels to contain much that have most certainly enhanced, expanded, awakened my esoteric abilities and capacities.

But...

I would no more send a person into the Miscavage CoS for training than I would send a horny dude to a starving cannibal for some fellatio.
You read some books and got wondrous super powers. Sure. :cool:
 

Clay Pigeon

Gold Meritorious Patron
But...

Just by the way...

The essential answer to the question "Is there good in Scientology" is that if there is good it is in us thus the true question is if there is good in us can Scientology be useful to that good in us...
 

Bill

Gold Meritorious Patron
But...

Just by the way...

The essential answer to the question "Is there good in Scientology" is that if there is good it is in us thus the true question is if there is good in us can Scientology be useful to that good in us...
If you put it that way, the answer is easy: The good in us doesn't need anything from Scientology.
 
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