Marty: Rolling Radical Scientology Rats


Patron with Honors
Marty: Rolling Radical Scientology Rats

Rolling Radical Scientology Rats

Posted on May 21, 2011 by martyrathbun09| 423 Comments

This is a study in the anatomy of Radical Scientology’s dog-eat-dog, Gestapo-like cultural computation (read serv fac) of ‘to preserve my own neck, I’ve got to serve up a half dozen friends’ necks to the chopping block.”

If one were to do a deep-reaching survey that really found out people’s genuine considerations, it is my bet that this cultural computation is probably the most
frightening aspect of the subject of Scientology (to date largely actually mistaken for Radical Corporate Scientology).

Enslaved peoples and freed peoples for millennia have understood that horizontal bonds are more important, more valuable, and more durable than vertical ones. They understand innately that vertical loyalties, while in the short-run sometimes remunerative, are cancerous when they are used to impose oppression and treachery onto horizontal lines.

Because the Resistance (Indies not yet identified publicly) is growing as rapidly as publicly declared Indies, we have come across a growing body of documented evidence of the suppression that is Radical Corporate Scientology.

The documentation below gives great insight into the dark, insidious nature of the current Radical Corporate Scientology tyranny, and more particularly into how that plays out in the lives of individual public Scientologists.

We are going to pick up where we left off earlier in the week with the strange case of Susie Lewis, the South San Francisco Bay Area Scientologist who was squashed and made amenable to rolling over upon others. For background, see:

The earlier beginning for Susie Lewis being exposed and flipped against her
Scientologist friends in the bay area was Scientology Inc leveraging personal
tragedy into betrayal. Standard Operating Miscavige Procedure (STOMP).

Barbara Nisbet completed OT VIII in 2007. She was a well-respected and loved
veteran Scientologist in the Chicago field. Her daughter is Jennifer Latch (San
Francisco Org Tech CS and wife of Snr CS SFO Stephen Latch) and Barbara’s husband was a long-time Chicago area Scientologist Class VIII field auditor Rich Nisbet. After Barbara underwent treatment for cancer in 2009, Barbara and Rich moved to the Bay Area in order to be closer to Jennifer and her two daughters. Ultimately, in September 2010 Barbara lost her struggle with cancer and passed away.

Rich Nisbet was thought to be echoing the sentiments of Barbara when he told a number of Scientologists that it was the continuously administered sec checks through OT VII and OT VIII and the “EP” of this squirrel, oppressive regimen that caused the death of Barbara. By the very nature of his sentiments Rich went further underground and furtive on the outskirts of the Radical Corporate Scientology community.

However, not possessing the courage of his own convictions, apparently not wanting to lose connection to Barbara’s daughter and grandchildren, and
having a 1.1 streak (never addressed because it is becoming a requirement in
Radical Corporate Scientology) instead of doing the honorable thing and standing up, Rich did what is now quite more acceptable conduct in the Radical Corporate Scientology community.
Within a month of Babara’s death Rich was busy stealing the wife of another Scientologist and good friend Dan Maas, another Miscavige authorized field auditor Lynette Maas. By December 2010 Dan Maas caught onto what was up with Nisbet and his wife. In January, 2011 Maas not only put a nasty physical beat down upon Nisbet, but through a well-chronicled, widely distributed email he informed public and staff far and wide about his investigation and his execution of street justice upon Nisbet:


Sadly, apparently by January 2011 street justice was all Maas could obtain
because Nisbet’s crimes had entered Flag Service Organization’s (FSO) STOMP
processing mill. That is, Flag found out not only about the out 2D, but also
caught out Nisbet on associating with potential Indies, Scientologists taking a
look at truth and chatting with one another about it – and STOMP policy is IMMUNITY FOR RATS. That is, regardless of the crime, it is more or less forgiven if you participate in the worst kind of violation of several provisions of the ONLY ethics code in Scientology, the CODE OR HONOR. At the Flag Service Org Rich Nisbet was rewarded for stealing the wife of another Scientologist by way of the simple expedient of fingering his “friends” for a good long twisting in the wind dangling from the gallows. Flag, in its now inimitable style, turned Rich Nisbet from something resembling a man into something resembling a mouse (rat).

Please see the attached email cycle between Nisbet and an FSO MAA. It reads from bottom (earliest) to top (latest). Slavka is a Flag MAA. Apparently, as of December Nisbet thought he was gonna slide out of FSO by giving the FSO MAA a little bit of ratting. But, Nisbet was disabused of that by the MAA, who informed him that under STOMP, you gotta give up everybody in order to walk. YIKES indeed Mr. Nisbet:


Black Dianetics rarely is applied without its implants. And implants were dutifully applied to Nisbet’s by then compliant, passive, receptive and injured mind. Nisbet was coercively disabused of his (and perhaps Barbara’s) initial, uninfluenced views that perhaps Barbara’s condition had something to do with the hundreds of thousands of dollars that were sucked out of her like blood from a vampire’s host, the years of invalidative control and Black Dianetics palmed off as the “upper levels”. In its place was firmly planted the following invention, 180 degrees diametrically opposed to truth. He was implanted to forsake his dead wife’s views and adopt those of David Miscavige. To wit, Barbara died because Rich and she discussed the possibility Flag and FSSO under the suppressive Black Dianetics of David Miscavige might have had some effect on Barbara’s health. In other words, a brush with the truth is potentially lethal. Folks, it does not get any darker than that. Miscavige is not just death, he is insidious megadeath.

I have never engaged in public discussions about the possibility of Upper Level Black Dianetics being a factor in the frighteningly high numbers of Flag and FSSO public OT VIIs and OT VIIIs dying of cancer. I haven’t done so in order not to contribute to the misconception that the tech of OT VII and OT VIII could in any fashion lead to illness of any kind. I have in fact curbed such discussions from the commentary on this blog. But, having investigated this entire matter and learned of the broken, twisted lives and deaths of the characters involved (and compared it with so many similars), I am getting the idea perhaps we do have a duty or common decency obligation to do something about Miscavige and Radical Corporate Scientology driving people at the Upper Levels toward Miscavige’s cinder-hearted graveyards. It is not the technology in play. It is the Miscavige STOMP – taking people’s life fortunes, splitting their families asunder, invalidating and implanting them in the name of “upper OT levels”, forcing them through economic and familial coercion to commit serial violations of their own personal integrity and THE CODE OF HONOR. Then, not simply leaving them to die in peace, but punishing them, further splitting their families for the afterlife by squeezing the last bit of remaining integrity out of the survivors. Relatively innocent out tech of relative short duration on the Upper Levels ain’t gonna hurt anyone to amount to anything. Systematically abandoning the CODE OF HONOR, one’s personal integrity, and one’s sense of the rightness of things – AT ANY LEVEL – is quite capable of KILLING anyone. That is Megadeath’s STOMP.

What has all this got to do with the simple tale of Susie Lewis? Nisbet went on to rat out a number of “under the radar” truth seekers including, but by no means limited to, Susie Lewis.

Ironically, or perhaps not since we are doing nothing more really than
trafficking in truth, the exposure of all this is creating a bit of an Independence
exodus – particularly in the Bay Area.

Stay tuned.
Be connected.
Have your integrity.


ab intra silentio vera

Of your 4 posts 3 of them have been complete dups of blog postings from MR's blog site. Not to speak for ESMB but, personally, this is probably not the best way to go about things here. If you want to make a point about something you've run across then I'd suggest you quote the relevant material, link to the source, and then provide us with your own commentary, say what's on your mind about the quoted material. ESMB is a discussion board. Blogs are not. Technically, as well, most blogs are actually copyrighted material. Usually not a problem, but one could be created by the wholesale duplication of blogged material. Know what I mean, jellybean?

Oh, and welcome to ESMB.

Clarence Rockaway

Patron with Honors
When I was in the army we had a drill whereby you stood with a group of guys in front of a chainlink fence. On the otherside of the fence was a camouflaged 'enemy' drawing a bead on you. When you perceived him you left the fence. Invariably I was always the last guy at the fence, and the enemy finally walked up to me with his rifle pointed at me. I could see but I couldn't perceive. There's a difference. And so, when I was sent to the Excalibur in October of 1973 for diciplinary reasons from CCLA, I knew I would have trouble if I was given the deck watch especially at night. Well it happened. I was assigned the watch. It had some nautical sounding name but my guardian angel has blanked them all out. I was supposed to report anything odd to the bridge. It was a murky night. Just the sort of atmospheric state where I could see all and perceive nothing. I was walking back and forth in the bow, doing my Long John Silver impersonation, which amused me, under my breath to be sure. "Avast there, ya fresh water swab! One move and I'll cleave yer to the brisket, ya cowardly son of a rum puncheon!" As I was going on, I noticed something in front of us. It looked like an enormous towering smudgepot. I thought there must be a spit of land ahead, and this was some sort of LARGE industrial piece of bric-a-brac. It looked to be moving...toward us. Impossible. Smudgepots don't float. After a while I stepped into the passage way, and lifted the phone from it's hook. The bridge answered. It was some other greenhorn nebbach like me who didn't know what end was up. He was at the HELM. "Hi," I began in a most unprofessional way. "You know, there looks to be something ahead of us slightly on the port bow, that's moving a little in..." Suddenly there came a scream "AAAAAAAAGH" then lots of footsteps, and the booming voice of the first mate, a big burly bearded bear of a man named Kupchuk, (whom of course we all called Up Chuck) "You f**cking jackass!" he roared. I walked back to my post. The smudgepot turned out to be the giant P & O liner ORONSAY, and she was baring down on us. Her ship's horn blasted, molting every seagull within five miles. And by some miracle we got out of her way in time. Compared to the ORONSAY, the Excalibur looked like a rubber duck. The poor kid who was at the helm was reamed out: and the next day could be seen tottering on a make shift boatswain's chair, hang:nervous:ing over the side of the vessel. He was chipping paint. I meanwhile was called into the captain's office. The captain was a New Zealander named Bob Young. I'm sure he was perfectly normal before he agreed to be part of Ron's project. But now was as mad as Bedlam. I was ordered in. My mind was racing, and I soon came up with a solution. Capt. Young used to love to talk on and on about the days when he commanded a dory in the British navy, patroling the Arabian sea. "You know why you're here" he asked ominously. "Yes, sir. And I wish I could have remembered that time when you were commanding your dory in the Arabian sea, I think you had just such an occurance happend to you..." He brightened up immediately. "Yes! I did." and for the next twenty minutes he droned on about a story he'd bored us all with ten times already, but he was off in his dream time, and I knew I'd be unpunished. While he droned, I tuned him out and went on with Long John in my head..."There we was, at the sinking of the Viceroy of the Indies, off the coast of Mally bar. What a ship. Fit to sink with gold, jew-els, and precious salves and ernments. That's where a round shot took off me leg and left me with this here timber. It were a genywine college doctor as was sawbones. Latin and Greek by the bucket....etc." I timed my nonsense to end when his did. He was now in a good mood and dismissed me only with "look livilier next time, lad."