They identified themselves as members of the Domestic Terrorism Unit of the San Diego Police Department. At first, I didn’t let them in, as the parrots were loose, and the birds don’t care for strangers.
The men said they were responding to a complaint, adding that they had to respond, and that in no way was I a suspect. They kept repeating this, I suppose, to reassure me that this was just a routine response.
When I asked them to elaborate, they said they had received a complaint that I planned to blow up the local “church” of Scientology.
I laughed out loud, and invited them back to the computer room, warning them not to make eye contact with the birds on their way through the living room.
I now could see what started all this. I had posted a message on an internet newsgroup that I planned to attend the San Diego County Board of Supervisor’s meeting the next week and speak out against a proposed Narconon facility in Warner Springs.
Narconon—not to be confused with Narcotics Anonymous, or NA—is a front group of Scientology that purports to be a drug rehabilitation program. In reality, the organization is little more than a recruitment tool.[1]
When you break down the data that Narconon provides, claiming anywhere from a 70-80% success rate, the numbers come out to about 2%, which isn’t much of a success rate. Roughly 10% of people who quit drugs do so on their own, without any help.[2]
Narconon’s drug education outreach was recently expelled from California public schools. Following a review from a panel of qualified medical experts in the field of substance abuse recovery, the organization was found to have provided children with information that was misleading, unscientific, and inaccurate.[3]
Rather than defend Narconon before the panel, Scientologists instead came after me. Someone likely from the “church” of Scientology reported a bogus threat, which mandated a response from the Domestic Terrorism squad. The unit, of course, wasted time and money following up on the nonsensical accusation.
As the detectives stood in my home, a friend apprised the men of my relationship with the cult. The detective then asked why I would speak out against Scientology if I knew reprisals were likely. The answer is, I wanted to warn others about the potential harm of Scientology. Look at it this way: If I knew you were about to step on a rattlesnake, wouldn't you want me to warn you?
Before the detectives left my house, one of them strongly advised me to report cult harassment of any type, anywhere, any time. The other wished me a happy Thanksgiving and told me to save room for pie.
Since I first learned about Scientology’s dirty little operations against its critics, I have spoken out. In return, the group has distributed libelous fliers around my neighborhood, followed friends from my house—resulting in some interesting car chases—tried to set me up several times, and phoned friends and relatives, posing as “investigators” doing background checks for some new job I never applied for.
A while back, I was living in a loft downtown when I encountered a man outside of the Ralphs supermarket. Smiling and friendly, he claimed to have spoken with me before, and walked with me back to my building.
You have to understand, I am not the type of person strange men approach on the street. I am a scruffy ex-punk rocker. People cross the street to get away from me…except this fellow, who followed me to my door and wanted to continue our non-conversation of “good roads and fair weather,” a Scientology distraction. Guy had Scientology written all over him. As if I’d hang out with a guy in a polo shirt!
In the little corners of the web where I hang out, it is well known that I ride a motorcycle. Warning flags were raised one day when I got an e-mail from a guy who said he rode a Honda and asked whether I wanted to go riding some weekend. My battery was dead, I told him. Sorry, no can do.
I checked with my fellow Scientology critics and found out he was known to be involved with the “church.” So I played him a little, sending leading, non-committal e-mails. He eventually disappeared, but sent me a message months later with a most interesting story.
OSA, or Office of Special Affairs, is Scientology’s dirty tricks and intelligence arm. Under the guise of Public Relations, they are the ones behind all of the egregious, high profile actions against their critics.[4]
The biker told me that OSA had contacted him and asked if he knew me, as he lived in Escondido. He said that his wife and kids were still “in,” and he was not allowed to see them. In Scientology, this is called 'disconnection.’ It’s Scientology’s version of shunning. But, he said, OSA told him he could be reconnected with his family if he made amends. And I was to be his amends project. Who knows what shape this might have been? Stop for a beer and get a DUI? Slip a little something on my bike when I wasn’t looking and get me arrested? Don’t laugh--it’s happened before.
I could just hear them scheming. “She rides a bike. Let’s send in someone who rides to set her up.” What they didn’t understand was, yes, I ride a bike. I’ve ridden since 1976. But, I’m not a “biker.” I don’t go on weekend rides with groups. I don’t attend rallies, or go to Sturgis. I just happen to ride a motorcycle.
Furthermore, when I was in the Army back in the 70s, my training included a lot of intelligence courses at Ft. Meade, Maryland. Given the proximity to Washington DC, these courses were meant to raise our awareness of the possibility of being approached by operatives from hostile governments. The training has proven useful when dealing with Scientology shenanigans. For some reason, Scientologists think they can intimidate and harass their critics into silence, all the while claiming to support the right to free speech.
They’ve sent people out to visit my parents, a couple of nice ladies who wanted to know why I was “saying hurtful things about their church.” Their driver was less friendly. When my parents responded that I was an adult and that they had no control over my behavior, the man growled, “We know how to shut her up!”
The most absurd, childish thing they ever pulled happened when my dad and I drove up to Hemet to visit a woman who lost her son to the cult back in the 70s. When we arrived, I phoned my mom to check in and heard her laughing on the other end of the line.
As soon as we’d left, she’d received a call from the “Adult Book Store,” telling her my dad’s order was in. You’d have to know my dad to appreciate the ridiculousness of this silly attempt to stir up strife.
One day this year, I was visiting my parents in Clairemont when neighbors began phoning in to report a man going door-to-door and flashing a badge. He claimed to be investigating me as a drug dealer and terrorist. He left no business cards or other contact information. His only purpose was to smear my name and, by association, that of my folks.
Also this year, I rode up to Los Angeles to participate in a picket outside the L. Ron Hubbard Life Museum. We met at a Sizzler on Hollywood Blvd. and before going off to picket I got permission from the manager to leave my bike at the restaurant. When we returned, the bike was gone.
Turns out that someone posing as the manager of the Sizzler had my bike towed from the back lot. The real manager didn’t have a clue that this had happened on his watch! It cost $250 to get my bike back, money which was generously reimbursed by a few Scientology critics from the global online community.
Now, just what is it that Scientology is trying to conceal?
Would it be that Narconon doesn’t work, and the toxic amounts of vitamins can cause blindness and liver damage?[5]
Would it be that their “Scientology Volunteer Ministers” swarm to disasters like flies to droppings, trying to sell books and pose for PR pictures with smoking ruins in the background?[6]
Would it be that the cult claims to be able to cure disease with an e-meter and auditing, rather than send members to a medical doctor? The number of deaths and suicides within the organization is certainly an indication that Scientology doesn’t work.[7]
Would it be that Scientology is a destructive cult masquerading as a religion? They claim the Federal Government has given them religion status. This is not true. It is not the government’s job to determine what is or isn’t a religion.
What the “religion” did do, however, was file hundreds of frivolous lawsuits against the IRS, while doing background checks on IRS officials. The lawsuits, from individual Scientologists, overwhelmed the agency and led the mighty IRS to cave. In exchange for the lawsuits being dropped, Scientology paid a fraction of the millions owed the government and received tax-exempt status. This secret agreement was first exposed in an article in the Wall Street Journal.[8]
Scientologist spokespeople respond to criticism by crying religious persecution. You will notice that nowhere have I mentioned anything about their beliefs. If you want to believe that all humankind’s problems are due to an evil Galactic Overlord named Xenu, whose actions resulted in all of us being covered with the spirits of murdered space aliens, have at it!
No, it is the fraud, abuse, and other criminal behavior that people object to, not the upper level beliefs. It is a fact that Scientologists who reach the level where Xenu is revealed have spent several hundred thousand dollars to get there. Most Scientologists never do reach the level of Operating Thetan III, and to them, the Xenu story is just something made up to make the organization look silly. Actually, the Xenu story is just something L. Ron Hubbard made up to separate the gullible and naïve from their savings.
Scientology has many front groups designed to covertly draw the unwary into the Mother Ship and extract public money from communities with its “social betterment” programs. They are designed to attract a wide range of suckers, from environmentalists (Earth Org) to inmate rehabilitation (Criminon, Second Chance), to illiteracy (Applied Scholastics), drug abuse (Drug Free Marshals), to, ironically, human rights (Youth for Human Rights).[9]
Here’s Scientology’s version of free speech: Stop talking about us and we’ll leave you alone.
Here are a few warnings about Scientology and its “public outreach” activities. You might see them on some San Diego street, giving Free Stress Tests. Result? Yes, you are stressed. Buy this copy of Dianetics.
Or the Free Personality Test. Result? You are screwed up. We can help you.
Scientology is considered a destructive cult in France and Germany. In the United States, we stress freedom of religion, which enables groups like Scientology to thrive without official scrutiny. Scientology acts more like a mafia than a religion, however, and people who are net-savvy are beginning to realize that. Scientology’s reputation may eventually make it as popular as Al Qaeda, but don’t expect the group to go out with a bang. They’re more slithery than that. They’ll go out with a whimper, whining about religious persecution all the way.
