Just My Luck

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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 9:21 am

Just My Luck

I've been thinking lately of using all my spare time to write an autobiography of my experiences regarding scientology. The fact that I was born into a scientology family means that a full AB is the only way to cover it all.

Please forgive me if these various snippets are chaotic and out of order. I'm writing them down as I occasionally recall them out of the blue. I am also trying to keep it totally un-OSA-able, as my parents are still way way in.

So, the first ambiguous snippet for your enjoyment:

I was on the EPF. Jim Garrett was the EPF I/C. About 3 days into my life-changing EPF experience, Mr. Garrett ordered us to The Shrine auditorium to help Gold build a set for an event. I don't remember which event, but I do remember my first time realizing that not everyone believes that all humans are equal. I asked the Gold guy in charge of us what his name was.

He looked at me like I was from another planet and said "JT". Later on, He told a group of us to arrange some truly massive gold-and-silver painted foam wedges into an arch. Our group of about 10 seemed to be having a lot of trouble lining them up correctly. So, being the kind of person who has no problem telling others what to do, (big mistake on the EPF) I called out "Hey JT! can you stand at the bottom of our "arch" and let us know when it lines up?"

He looked at me as if I had grown three heads, with bleeding, puss-filled sores covering each one. He walked over, snatched my arm like a snake going after prey, and proceeded to scream at the top of his lungs: "That's SIR to you you little shit! What the fuck is wrong with you! I'm at one of the most senior orgs on the planet! Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do! If I ever hear shit like that again, I'll..."

That was the gist of it, but with more swearing. I was crushed. I had gone from the newly felt "one of the elite of the elite" to "The dog shit that the real elite wipes off his boots". But for his help, it would have been done that minute, as it was, having not slept in 36 hours, I wound up on my back underneath one of the big wedges, re-painting the never-to-be-seen-by-another-living-soul backs of the wedges where they were scraped by tired EPFers not lifting them off the ground when they shifted them back and forth to line up in a proper arch.

A few hours later, the fact that I was laying on my back under a spot-light-blocking foam arch helped me fall fast asleep. I was awoken by JT. The manner of said awakening was multiple kicks to the ribs. I received another bout of yelling, which I was too tired to even register, and thus don't recall. He lined us up military style, (arms length to the right, arms length to the front) and proceeded to tell us what terrible screw-ups we were, and how we were never going to make it in the Sea Org with counter-intention like we had.

After winding down, he told us we could go get some sleep. I found out later that Mr. Garrett had actually called the events I/C and screamed at him until whoever it was agreed that it was wrong to subject prospective SO members to be driven off by prison-camp-style labor.

Anyway, It worked out that the first truck ride back to the PAC base would be able to sleep. I caught wind of it just in time by overhearing JT talking to some other Gold chick. They had to stop the Counter-Intention to Command-Intention and keep the EPF there. This, I could not handle.

Luckily, 1/3rd of the EPF would be rotated out every 24 hours for sleep, all of whom were part of that first truck ride. Although I wasn't picked, I managed to stow away. Imagine if you will, an open-faced metal box 3 feet long by 1 and 1/2 foot deep by 1 and 1/2 foot wide welded to the undercarriage of a flatbed truck with those fence-sections as walls to said flatbed. I squeezed myself into this tiny, extremely unsafe area and fell asleep watching the freeway fly by 8 inches below me.

I got back to PAC Base and slept for the next 6 hours....

Another random memory soon to come!

-PS...the thread title will become clear (hopefully) in subsequent posts.
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 10:13 am

About 6 months after I got off the EPF, I had saved up enough money to buy an IKEA cabinet. The idea of a space to lock up my stuff where the 12 other guys in my room couldn't get it was appealing to say the least.

Luckily, my parents drove past the IKEA warehouse at the base of the Grapevine every week as they came down to AOLA to do their OT Levels. So, I got it, and I built it one Sunday over CSP. Coincidentally, At the same time, I got a laptop as a gift from my grandfather.

One day, I got back to the dorm after a looooong days slavery. Immediately upon entering, I noticed that my IKEA cabinet was tipped open, the lock broken, the doors hanging off their hinges, and my laptop was missing.

I jumped the main building stairs a landing at a time, and carded my way down to the entrance to base security. Breathless, I reported the theft.

"Some motherfucker broke into my locked cabinet and stole my new laptop!" I said. My being in front of one of the 5 cameras near the security door, they had no need to ask who I was. Soon enough, Alex Duvall came out, and proceeded to say:

"Oh, we took it. We needed to make sure you didn't have a wireless router built-in to your laptop. You will have it back in a few weeks." I was stunned. Not only did I have the slightest clue what a wireless router was, (at the time) but security were the ones who actually broke open my cabinet and stole my personal property...I thought I was going insane!

It was a revelation. Security weren't protecting us, they were guarding us!

Again, more to come...eventually.
__________________
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Iknowtoomuch

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 10:19 am

It was for your own good dammit!









Yikes, it got even worse after I left, the reports are true.
"Everybody has a right to believe what they want to believe. But I don't believe that anybody has a right to trick anybody, to hurt anybody, to harm some body, for their own purposes." - Jason Beghe
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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 10:21 am

Iknowtoomuch wrote:It was for your own good dammit!
Yikes, it got even worse after I left, the reports are true.


When did you finally escape the madness? It took me 2 years, a year of it on the decks!

oooooh, Another story comes!
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 10:36 am

When I was at AOLA, there was a fellow who lived in the "other" decks dorm (There were two when this happened).

I had a really good buddy on the decks. We were forbidden by security from talking to each other. His non-communication order came from CMO, mine came from RTC. Bad news all around.

Well, my buddy was on the decks. I had a penchant for cigars at the time, and had collected them in my little cheapo humidor for the last year of my SO career. I couldn't under penalty of declare speak to my buddy, so I decided to leave him reminders of my friendship in the form of a random cigar or two placed on top of the deckies' door frame once a week or so.

Every time I saw this buddy running around on decks, he seemed more down. I couldn't figure it out. I was very close to this person, so I noticed. I inquired around with the service org execs on the base, and found that there was another fellow on the decks, who happened to be a kleptomaniac. I mentioned this to security, and was kicked twice for my temerity. "kleptomania" is a psychological term, and Ryan Boswell did not approve of that title, as it smacked of psychiatry!

Regardless, I eventually worked out a place where I could drop cigars, and my buddy was more "up" while he was on decks...until CMO found out...more on that sometime later....possibly much later!
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 11:17 am

In CTO, the way to prevent the supes from surprising you was to sit in a corner, with large stacks of dictionaries to either side of you like walls.

One day, myself and a Bridge staffer named Neto Cepeda were tucked in a corner surrounded by a truly massive pile of dictionaries. In the midst of a truly revolutionary recitation of random pig noises. Neto shushed me.

Said I: "What the hell are you doing?!?!?"

Said he: "Just check it out, I want to try something"

He shushed me again. Keep in mind, this was the Practical Courseroom at CTO. A background roar was normal. Again I asked "WTF are you doing"

Again he said, "Just wait, This will be hilarious....Shhhhhh!"

He repeated the "Shhh" twice. On the second time, it spread.

"Shhhh", "be quiet", "Shhh", "Shhhhh" repeated around the room.

Soon enough, these ronbots, used to going silent at the sound of "shhhh",(touch-assist) were all completely silent. Every. Single. Person.

The CTO Practical room was a tomb. You could hear a pin drop into a pile of feather pillows. The "silent-for-touch-assist" drill had been so ingrained in these ronbots that any "be-silent" command was followed.

Approximately one minute of pure, blessed silence later, the LRH PPRO WUS screamed out "What the fuck! Get back to your studies!" in her weird, cup-haircut old Aussie accent.

But the moment had indeed come. One person saying "shhh" had set off a revolution of quiet for about a minute.

It was never to happen again. Neto's beautiful wife left him, and he blew back to Canada.

More again when it occurs.
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Anonymous9104

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 11:23 am

Please write an auto biog, you're stories are captivating, and you write them well... I want more, more, more... Do this.
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LronIsgonE_Snap

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 3:59 pm

Wirestripper, you remind me of Hawkeye from M*A*S*H. Please give us more anecdotes when you have the time.
Enjoy your life today,
For time is fleeting.
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Iknowtoomuch

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 4:40 pm

Wirestripper wrote:
Iknowtoomuch wrote:It was for your own good dammit!
Yikes, it got even worse after I left, the reports are true.


When did you finally escape the madness? It took me 2 years, a year of it on the decks!

oooooh, Another story comes!



Mid 90's.
It took me about 2 months to get out. They didn't mess with me much because they knew I was fighting back at the screaming and yelling. It was the most calm time I'd ever had in the Sea Org. Although it took way too long.
"Everybody has a right to believe what they want to believe. But I don't believe that anybody has a right to trick anybody, to hurt anybody, to harm some body, for their own purposes." - Jason Beghe
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Wirestripper

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Post Fri Jan 23, 2009 10:04 pm

Hey thanks for your interest guys!

Here's one that made me wince and laugh at the same time.

In 2002, I was out of the Sea Org, living at home. There was a really nice girl named Amy who I occasioned to call on...

What I really mean is: I wanted to bang her like a tweaker playing a drum solo at a rock concert. She had been in the Sea Org at around the same I had. We had stayed in touch since leaving, and were always making plans to see each other that fell through.

Unfortunately, she lived in Las Vegas, and I was in the Bay Area, sans transportation. Fortunately, I was friends with a rather lonely guy who owned a truck! One promise to hook him up with Amy's hot roommate later, we were on our way to Vegas!

It went very well - for me. Lonely Guy was lonely for a reason, and while I spent the weekend...um...playing checkers with Amy, Lonely Guy tried and failed to hook up with Amy's Roommate, and therefore spent the weekend alone.

Ah well, I was happy (and tired)!

We drove back, happy to be out of Las Vegas (I hate that city). I made some commiserating noises as he expounded upon his lack of "game".

A month later, I learned that he had joined the Sea Org. While not surprised, I was nevertheless a little leery, recalling all "frank" discussions I had with him about the SO.
about 3 months after that, the Ethics Goon of the local org forwarded me a letter.

In said letter was a KR! I will type it out here, bad grammar included (minus my name of course)!

"When I was still living in Sacramento, I noticed that Wirestripper had some out-ethics on the 2D. I remember him saying that he doesn't like to be with just one girl, and he just likes to go out with many girls. At the time I didn't think much of it, but since I joined the SO some things have come to light. That made me realize what he was doing was out-2D. I remember one time when we went to Las Vegas to visit a friend of his. The only reason for this trip was to have sex. He wanted to have sex with her. I went with him because I wanted to sex from her other roommate. I didn't. He later told me that he had sex with her saveral times. It was just for pleasure and not anything else. I realize it was wrong he needs to fix his 2D. This is True, xxx xxxx-xxxxx."

Of course, we all know what this means. Lonely Guy had gotten his first liability condition for reining-in the baloney pony. I wonder if the KR was an effective enough blow to the enemies of the In-2D group - me!
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Sat Jan 24, 2009 2:30 am

It was 1995(?) and I was in trouble. As punishment, I was told to help the EPF and Renos do HVAC work in the ceilings of AOLA. Up into the dark space in the ceiling I went. I was only about 130 pounds at the time, so I could clamber along the heating ducts instead of climbing up and down a ladder every time I needed to move.

It was actually one of the most peaceful times I had in the Sea Org. I was pretty much given a bucket of grey sealant goop, a paint brush and roll of metal tape - as an aside - that metal tape kicks fuckin ass! I stole like 4 rolls for use in my dorm! Cabinet repair you know... Oh, and that grey stuff? we called it Smegma and if you got it on you, it never ever came out. Heaven help you if you got it somewhere you had hair!

Anyway, I was given that stuff and let loose. I spent more than a week up there, only coming down to eat, sleep and muster. It was awesome!

Until....

Oh crap I forgot his name: late-forties, pot-belly, long greasy reddish-blond hair, nasty tobacco-stained teeth, and one of those back-support girdles. Probably from southern Texas. Renos. Anyway, this guy really enjoyed needling me with gay jokes. Creepy and scary to say the least.

<shudder> Back to the dramatic tension.

Until....


One night, most everyone had already left. It was about midnight. I was wedged up above the central heat exchanger (A big metal box where all the ducts connect up to the main heater). It was dark as hell, and I had wedged my front half in between the pipes so I was upside down taping the underside of the aforementioned tangle of pipes...

I hear a noise above and behind me, "Hey, Wirestripper...how you plannin' on gettin' outta there?" It was Creepy Renos Guy. I twisted my neck around so I was looking up my right side and saw him veritably looming over me. I started to try and wedge myself further down behind the exchanger.

He crawled closer. "You know what I'm gonna do to you boy? I'm gonna flip you over, shave your ass, plant some boobs on yer back...and you can be mah bitch"

I freaked. I manged to weasel my way through to the bottom of the tangle...unfortunately, the only thing below me was the ceiling....and below that...the floor.

I remembered this fact about halfway through those cheapo pressed cardboard ceiling tiles...taking the express-elevator called gravity.

Remember though, I am a lucky fellow, and landed juuuust off-center in one of those ugly-ass green AOLA couches....not a scratch!

All I can hear is Creepy Renos Guy laughing his ass off in the ceiling above me. Bastard!
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Wed Mar 25, 2009 5:38 am

Sorry for the long post break, been rather busy!

This is a Tragedy taking place in the magical land of Home, in 1990.

My mother and father were in the process of getting a divorce. My dad had us for the weekend.

My brother - 2 years younger than I - had been in a spot of trouble at school. I had been in more than a spot, but was larger of frame.

One morning, I woke to hear my dad screaming bloody murder at my brother. He had just taken his Pro TRs course, and made himself up a punishment.

Squirrel TRs tech.

I fail to recall the exact commands of the original, (but no doubt similar) commands, but it involved my father grabbing my brother's head and using it as a shot-put to hurl him to the opposite wall of the room.

Crying of course was a dramatization, and therefore a flunk, which resulted in yet more "body-handling" to the result of...

You guessed it...more crying.

Being the tender age of 10 or so, I freaked out when I saw my brothers convulsing body being hurled across the room to twisted Scientology TRs commands, and the end result of my brother's crumpled, tear-stained face lying on the floor just about broke me, I am not ashamed to admit.

This went on for about thirty minutes, until I realized in my childlike way that only another adult could stop him.

Thus, I called my mother, and only then did the "ethics gradient", (his words) stop, mainly due to a threat of child abuse, however unfounded, ( remember, Scilons can't sue other Scilons for fear of an SP declare).

To this day, my brother has blocked it out of his memory.
Last edited by Wirestripper on Fri May 24, 2013 2:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Wirestripper

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Post Wed Mar 25, 2009 5:39 am

Here is something more humorous!

I was a student back in Los Gatos Academy at the time.

Being the shortest person in class, I - of course - was picked on by the older and/or larger folk in Addie's class.

One day, I was pants'd in front of the High School basketball team, (then operating under that one black guy who got fired for hiring a prostitute in Las Vegas) by a horrible bastard named Kyle LeClaire.

Vowing revenge, and being a cruel and totally unempathetic person in general...(still am to this day I daresay): I decided to pay him back. It wasn't the first time Kyle had screwed with me...

I went home, took few gallons of diesel fuel, and poured it in a metal bucket, containing about the same weight in Styrofoam (yes, lots of styrofoam).

As hopefully some of you know, this turned into a rather large amount of - I won't say the name for search engines, but it starts with "neigh",and ends with "palm" - horribly flammable material that wont go out for water, sand, dirt, or any other conventional fire-putter-outer.

I then went back to school and waited.

Kyle cornered me on the blacktop the next day. He punched me a couple of times.....

I poured out my special potion, and flung a match at him.

He almost went home on an ambulance, and I laughed my ass off for the next three days until he came back....at which point I was properly contrite (he didn't want to get in to trouble for kicking the shit out of me, so of course he couldn't report who it was that lit him on fire) .

Fun stuff.

PS - The author does not condone the creation of illegal substances in any way or form, and advises all those bullied to seek the guidance of a school counselor or other therapist.
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy
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Iknowtoomuch

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Post Wed Mar 25, 2009 6:00 pm

Ah yes TR's. The things Scientologists only practice. When they are truely needed, Scientologists tend to stick to anger.

Bullies suck!
"Everybody has a right to believe what they want to believe. But I don't believe that anybody has a right to trick anybody, to hurt anybody, to harm some body, for their own purposes." - Jason Beghe
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doubleVee

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Post Thu Mar 26, 2009 2:28 am

Wirestripper wrote:I fail to recall the exact commands of the original, (but no doubt similar) commands, but it involved my father grabbing my brother's head and using it as a shot-put to hurl him to the opposite wall of the room.


Something similiar was done in our house regularly. Sucked.
Somebody has to speak for these people.... no more running. I aim to misbehave.... If you can't do something smart, do something right. (Serenity)
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invisible

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Post Thu Mar 26, 2009 5:06 am

Wirestripper, I just read your posts here and wow, have you had some experiences. I am very glad you got out of the SO and away from the CoS.

I hope you do write an autobiography.
"Be the change you want to see in the world."
--Gandhi
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Anonymous9104

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Post Thu Mar 26, 2009 10:28 am

WS,

I like how your stories reek of details and gives the sense of being there. Don't call me a douche, but I like those kind of stories best, such as Pignotti's who tell the emotion, the feeling behind it rather than just the cold, hard mechanics, compared to say The Complex, which although great, and we need every book on the market detailing each person's story, different people prefer different ways of hearing those stories, some are purely facts others are experiences. I like Jeff Hawkins blog but again, and though emotional in parts... it's more documentary style than block buster film. Although his part about putting CoS on the map w/his broad strokes of creative genius wrt marketing, and the early excitement... and all of his and J. D's travel (The Complex)... I like the miniscule details of the stories you provide, and hope you DO write a book. I am the first to by! Lastly, I read some post by you referring to your detachment, wasn't it? Does the cult have anything to do with it, or did they nurture this trait?
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Wirestripper

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Post Sun Mar 29, 2009 1:48 am

Thanks guys!

I appreciate the feedback. I do try to make you see and feel as I did, with varying degrees of success.

Anon9104: As far as a sense of detachment goes, that is just something I picked up as a coping mechanism. I remember the exact moment I decided/got it too....great story involving Ronnie Miscavige, but a little too close to home for the twats up at OSA if you get my drift.

More to come when I remember a good one!
James Monikers' Three Rules of life:
1. Desperation Breeds insanity
2. It can always get worse
3. Only crazy people win; Only winners can judge what is crazy

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