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Sunday, December 03, 2006
Runaway

 

Wet and cold Del tried to get a grip on the wall. He tried to pull himself up but the water was slippery on the marble. Someone next to him was bleeding, but he couldn't tell if it was a guy or girl. My glasses. Where are they? A sudden burst of water pushed the bleeding body down the hall out of view. Stop it! Del clung to the wall unable to see anything around him. How did he get here? STOP IT he yelled into the void.

 

STOP IT as his dad sat before him drinking his death for his son to see. Discovering it wasn't an instant death but a torturous, agonizing death no phone nothing nearby but Kansas wide open Kansas where a man's thoughts can be the gateway to dreams or the last sounds he hears when he goes insane. Kansas. Compared to the science fiction novels he loved Kansas was dead but now it was death itself.

 

So he runs away. To run away from death. A violent death. To join the carny. He learned the special language they used http://www.goodmagic.com/carny/  and became a carny guy. He had a voice, deep and rich when he wanted to so they made him a huckster. So off he went as a kid to live with a support group who were on the run. When you go back and look at death records of circus and carny accidents you are struck by all the names not known. How can someone work for years for a carny outfit and no one know their name? Because the first rule you learn is that if you aren't told the name, don't ask. Don't ask about the past ever. Don't talk about the past. There is only the now and the next town. When the cops come learn the word for them and if you have to hide- hide. No one asks why.

 

Del touched the floor and felt the glasses! He put them on and could read the sign. HOUSE ON UNAMERICAN ACTIVITIES THIS WAY.

 

1960

 

Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear

      And it shows them pearly white
      Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe
      And he keeps it … ah … out of sight.
 
      Ya know when that shark bites, with his teeth, babe
      Scarlet billows start to spread
      Fancy gloves, though, wears old MacHeath, babe
      So there's nevah, nevah a trace of red.
 
      Now on the sidewalk … uuh, huh … whoo … sunny mornin' … uuh, huh
      Lies a body just oozin' life … eeek!
      And someone's sneakin' 'round the corner
      Could that someone be Mack the Knife?
 
      A-there's a tugboat … huh, huh, huh … down by the river don'tcha know
      Where a cement bag's just a'droopin' on down
      Oh, that cement is just, it's there for the weight, dear
      Five'll get ya ten old Macky's back in town.
 
      Now, d'ja hear 'bout Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe
      After drawin' out all his hard-earned cash
      And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor
      Could it be our boy's done somethin' rash?
 

 

      Now … Jenny Diver … ho, ho … yeah … Sukey Tawdry       
      Ooh … Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown 
      Oh, the line forms on the right, babe
      Now that Macky's back in town.
 
      Aah … I said Jenny Diver … whoa … Sukey Tawdry
      Look out to Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown
      Yes, that line forms on the right, babe
      Now that Macky's back in town … 


      Look out … old Macky is back!!

He can't believe Bobby Darren has taken a communist song and turned it into a lounge song.

He is walking to the store when a kid hands him a flyer and it's not an advertisement- it's about HUAC calling in teachers and professors to question them on their loyalty.

Del says nothing but he shows up and gets inside (each person is given a white pass that lets in 5). He tags along, hears a commotion behind him and someone starts singing. Then almost everyone is singing but he doesn't know the words. That's when some start to sing as they enter the meeting chambers and Del turns to see a man holding a water hose yelling, "You want some?" as the crowd sings.

Del looks up at the person across from him whose arm is broken. It looks like at any second the bone will come through the skin. The person Del attached himself to yells for him to follow him to get out.

"No thanks", Del yells back over the screams and noise and surreal scene of thousands of dollars of damage to stop- singing!

"I think I'll stay here and fight."

 

 

Posted at 12:19 pm by Psychomike
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Wednesday, December 06, 2006
First Group Game

 
Del had invited me to Crosscurrents to see the work he was involved in after a conversation we had on the French Oulipian writing movement. He was surprised I knew of a 1960 underground European writing experiment but I did actually learn a few things in art school. The idea ranges from free form to using structures to write. Time shifts without warning, we discover characters more than we are told their characteristics. A short film using this style was seen by millions of Americans after Rod Serling saw it and bought it for THE TWILIGHT ZONE. It was called INCIDENT AT OWL CREEK BRIDGE http://www.moria.co.nz/fantasy/owlcreek.htm  and many even saw the film in schools with no idea that the filmmakers were using a Oulipian structure. Del told me he was working on a pattern of three different scenes which would lead to a group work, then the three scenes would be more revealing of the people and lead to another group scene, then there would be an overlapping of the three scenes and sometimes an ending. Not written as the Oulipian movement was but live on stage.
 
"When I write about our times together", I said, "I'll write it in that form. No one will believe the stories anyway, although they are all true. You and I have lived the lives of a 100 men." Del laughed as we sat in the Stagecoach Restaurant on North and Wells and he ended his laugh with a cough. The Roachcoach Del called the joint, the food wasn't very good with over cooked eggs (if a restaurant can fuck up cooking eggs you don't want to eat there) and frozen hashed browns. It was however near Del's place and open all hours for those odd times when the high wore off and he got hungry. The area is known as Old Town and the hippies that lived there were being pushed out by young professionals willing to buy.
 
"Have you heard from Patti?", he asked me quietly.
 
Not in weeks. I presume she'll show up with a bag of coke, a limo and a stack of money but I wouldn't stay home waiting for her. Del laughed. A low dirty laugh.
 
So I agreed to bring a date to the show and headed home where the Rolaids was waiting.
 
Boom Boom and I sat at a table at Crosscurrents with my usual, a gin and tonic and she had a beer. There were about 70 people who had paid to be there at the bar watching the show, and I was impressed. Behind us were his students, about a dozen more. The piano started, Del went up to the stage to loud applause.
 
"Good evening and welcome. I'm Del Close and I'd like to introduce my friend, Michael Flores".
 
People applauded the way they do when they think maybe they should know you but don't. I gave a slight wave.
 
"No, Michael, come on up". So I got up and walked to the stage.
 
"Tell me about slack" Del started and I realized we were in a structure. For the next 20 minutes we did the purest improv I've ever done- I didn't know the rule of agreement, of protecting your partner, I wasn't even sure I knew the structure Del was using.
 
The waves of laughs coming from the crowd felt really good, as did the cheers and applause at the end.
 
I knew music, so I understood beats in comedy. I knew old Hollywood, so I knew about protecting your partner and making everyone look good.I bounded off the stage to head to the restrooms and was grabbed by Jim Belushi. "What team are you?" he asked as the others gathered around to hear my reply.
 
"I like the Cubs", not meaning to be a smart ass but I had no idea what he was talking about. A girl behind him asked me what classes I was taking and when I said none, the looks on their faces confused me. Some looked shocked, some bewildered a few just stared.
 
After the show I asked Del if he thought I should take a class. He laughed. "No Michael, you should teach one!" he said with a cough.
 
The gravity of what had happened was starting to hit me. "Let's do this again", I said.
 
Del beamed, "Anytime".
 
 
 
 

Posted at 11:05 am by Psychomike
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Monday, December 11, 2006
A Sexual Jam Session

How do you describe someone you really admired and loved?
 
And yet, he has so many aggravating traits? He was an instinctive conman. It was impossible to know when to believe him or disbelieve him. Everything he said or did was for effect. That is why he was so difficult to interview. He would deliberately say the opposite of what he knew you wanted to hear. He could be kind, gracious and gentile with a wonderful sense of humor. But he could also be vindictive and mean. All one could do with John Ford is accept him with all of his virtues and faults, and love him.
 
Maureen O'Hara on John Ford
 
When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. And it happens we're in the detective business. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's-it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around, bad for every detective everywhere. THE MALTESE FALCON
 
 
Patti told the limo driver to pick her up the next day at 10 am and we stepped out of the limo. I lived at 1939 North Lincoln, when Lincoln Park was all Mexican. The whites wouldn't move in until Old Town was filled up. On Friday and Saturday nights the lobby was filled with mariachi bands waiting for their ride to work. Playing LA CUCARACHA for people who had no idea the song was about pot smoking. Marijuana por fumar indeed!
 
I was paying $400 a month, with a balcony overlooking Lincoln Avenue. In one direction from me was a damn good pizza joint, the opposite direction was the Park West. Not to mention a cool fondue restaurant. And the last days of the Playboy Club.
 
Patti and I took the elevator up to my pad and as soon as we got in she started kissing me. Now, because I had learned to make love during the free love era, I had long ago learned to hold back sometimes 30%, sometimes more of my sexual capability. It scared most women. As we kissed I realized she was matching me, going toe to toe. I decided to go full tilt boogie. She did not hesitate to match me. Holy shit!
 
Sex is a lot like music. When musicians get together to jam they create rhythms and solos and bridges. Same with sex. And I was jamming with the best.
 
She had a mirror with lines of coke on it and would periodically lean over to snort a line. Funny thing about coke. It makes women even more insatiable, but makes men lose control.
 
I like being in control of my instrument.
 
So I didn't do any but damn was I enjoying her ever growing wildness as she did a line.
 
Besides, from Newsweek to Sports Illustrated to Time, we were all being told it was "like pot".
 
A pity about the facts.
 
Bam I rose up and the sweat dripped down my face and dropped onto her skin and I kissed her with my eyes closed and I was fucking and she was squeezing and I opened my eyes and I was by the bridge in Piedmont Park and could hear the Allman Brothers jamming with the Grateful Dead and I was fucking Mona hey, hey Mona
and I'd been at that bridge a hundred times but damn Mona knew what to do it was Charlie Parker meets Milt Jackson and John Coltrane it wasn't fucking anymore it was a jam session and then I asked Patti-
 
When do you want me to come
 
and she climbed on top and said I'll say when and off we went again.
 
I can't tell you when the song ended but even after all that coke she collapsed in my arms.
 
Goodnight.
 
Morning came with automatic wood and we went at it again. I guess she wanted to know if what had happened was because of the coke or was it real.
 
So I made a pot of coffee and talked to her.
 
I told her how beautiful she was, I knew Skip Williamson at Playboy and she should meet him and maybe get a job. She said they didn't really hire strippers and I had no idea she was one and looked surprised.
 
"When I was 12, my mom drove me to a high-rise and told me the room to go to. And to do what I was told to do. That was my first john".
 
What the fuck? What did I just hear?
 
Her mom was her pimp.
 
I held her as she started to cry, and promised her I wasn't lying. We would go to Playboy and I really believed she could work for their modeling agency, and get in the mag. She looked at me like she had heard it all before, but not from someone who decided when he would come.
 
She said she wanted to do it, and stop stripping. And everything else.
 
"Ok Mike. I'll call you. But I have to ask you. Have you ever heard of a guy named Del Close?', she said as I nodded, no.
 
 
 
 

Posted at 12:45 am by Psychomike
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Friday, December 15, 2006
Del Close Rat Hunter

The day after the riot 3500 people angered at the obvious brutality used against the protesters (not to mention the thousands of gallons of water that had damaged the building) showed up to protest the HUAC hearings. Del was already thinking about moving to New York.
 
His friends were headed to Chicago, but Del wanted to try his hand at standup. And hunting rats.
 
Del arrived in NYC and found a source for speed, perfectly acceptable in those days and prescribed like aspirin. Need to lose weight? Take speed. Need to study? Take speed. In World War 2 our pilots were given speed to keep them awake. In Germany, the pilots were given crystal meth. Hitler himself got 7 to 9 shots of crystal meth a day from 1941 on. Speed was like the messenger of the Gods Mercury, you could rant for hours. Hugh Hefner used speed while writing his philosophy. Police wouldn't even arrest you for taking it. They were on it too! Soldiers were on it, too. Elvis was given it to stay awake for guard duty. It would lead to a life of drugs for him. All LEGAL.
 
Del was pleased to see there was a manhole cover in front of his building. In those days from Chicago to NYC to LA you bought already rolled joints from the local newsstand.
 
So Del laid his joints on the table. He put the syringe on the table. His spoon and his speed. He took out his gun and made sure it was loaded. On the floor was his roller skates. ROLLER SKATES. He had a helmet with a flashlight held on by duct tape. Before Velcro there was duct tape. Always worth having around the house.
 
He was wearing shorts and a short sleeved shirt. His battle gear.
 
The needle sucked in the speed from the spoon and he stuck it in his vein andbegantorepeatgonnaget'emgonnaget'emgonnaget'em like a mantra put a pack of cigs in his shirt pocket along with his joints put on his roller skates gonnaget'emgonnaget'emgonnaget'em put the helmet on gonnaget'emgonnaget'em a rush hit him with that feeling of falling you sometimes get when you're asleep the goosebumps rising gonnaget'emgonnaget'em stick the gun in his pants gonnaget'em put on goggles over the glasses READY!
 
Carefully walk down the stairs to the sidewalk gonnaget'em open the door gonnaget'em passersby ignore him (hey, it's New York) gonnaget'em lifts up the manhole cover, sets it aside and begins to carefully walk down the ladder. Gonnaget'em pausing to pull the cover back over the hole and it was dark like going into a cave and he switched on his flashlight.
 
He touched bottom and took a joint from his pocket lighting it. He took a long drag, left the joint dangling from his mouth. He began to skate. gonnaget'emgonnaget'em and he pulled his gun out.
 
There they were.
 
The rats.
 
Big huge fat rats.
 
They ignored him.
 
Big mistake.
 
He began to skate and took aim, BAM and a rat with its guts on display stuck to the wall.
 
Holy shit the rats must have thought as they started to run away, what th- BAM this one flies in the air and roller skating towards them was something they knew they had to run from the way people run from Godzilla when he comes near DO NOT PANIC GODZILLA IS APPROACHING well then- when are you supposed to panic? I think Godzilla approaching is precisely when you need to panic. Rats don't have time to ask what's wrong as humans do, they are already in flight.
 
Del skates through their ranks blasting away TIME TO RELOAD shit that fat one is getting away gonnaget'emgonnaget'em  the joint is done.
 
Time for another one.
 
This was Del Close. This would be my partner.

Posted at 09:23 am by Psychomike
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Sunday, December 17, 2006
A Kid In The Candy Store

TRIPPIN' ON FREE LOVE BLUES
 
Hello, I love you
Wont you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game
Hello, I love you
Wont you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game

Shes walking down the street
Blind to every eye she meets
Do you think youll be the guy
To make the queen of the angels sigh?

Hello, I love you
Wont you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game
Hello, I love you
Wont you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game

She holds her head so high
Like a statue in the sky
Her arms are wicked, and her legs are long
When she moves my brain screams out this song

Sidewalk crouches at her feet
Like a dog that begs for something sweet
Do you hope to make her see, you fool?
Do you hope to pluck this dusky jewel?

Hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, hello, hello
I want you
Hello
I need my baby
Hello, hello, hello, hello
- Jim Morrison, The Doors
 
For a kid loose in the free love era, there is no sense all this will end. It is a perpetual party. Atlantis Rising was the "head" shop on Peachtree Street that I'd sit in front of, selling my Great Speckled Bird. When you walked in the shop there were bootlegs on the floor, barrels of coffee beans, day glo posters and blacklights. Pipes and rolling papers of all colors and images of every kind on the papers. Some like the flag. Some like draft cards. I had the poster that matched astrology signs with sex positions on my wall
 
and a poster of W.C. Fields.
 
Peter Pan was the hot girl on the strip of the moment and I saw her walk by with her giirlfriends who worked at the topless club further downtown. The world had gone topless it seemed. Go go dancers had lost their tops, movies were often topless, there were even topless barber shops. Not that I would go to one. I looked like a stick of broccolli with my huge uncut afro and skinny body.
 
"Hey chick, wanna ball?" I blurted out. Ball meant sex.
 
She looked at me, turned to her friends and looking back at me said, "Groovy", her long blonde hair swaying as she walked.
 
That was that. I got up and we walked a few blocks to her place. It was a great walk, as many of my friends watched me with them. There was Peyote, so named because when he first came to town he had a trunk full of peyote buttons. You can see him in the WOODSTOCK film during the fish cheer section with his unkept hair and beard. There was Jimmy, awol from the Army giving me a huge smile. He blew his brains out when the MP's came to take him back. There was Dottie, beautiful Dottie who liked women and men. We walked by the guys giving away Orange Sunshine on the street. See, they'd give it away one day and come back on the weekend to sell it. Word of mouth would be the best advertising.
 
Acid was about altered realities, but it was also about advertising. TURN ON, TUNE IN AND DROP OUT was what Timothy Leary said. Well, we all were raised to do that. We'd turn on the TV, tune in one of the three to five channels, and drop out on the couch to watch. The words matched a ritual we had been doing since childhood. Which technically, I was still in.
 
There I was in her place with her three friends.
 
"Have you ever had a flower?", she asked as the other girls laughed. I had no idea what she was talking about. We all got undressed and I stood as the girls took turns kissing me. Funny, I didn't feel sexually used.
 
The girls then saw I was aroused and turned away, bending over.
 
I got it. Each was a petal, I was the stem.
 
I spun like a top!
 
I have no idea how long this went on but when it was over we started getting off on the Orange Sunshine. The girls were having fun, but I wanted to go back to the strip to trip. So I split. "Hey", Peter Pan called out to me, "What's your name?" as I walked into the night.
 
"Flash", I yelled back, stumbling towards the scene.
 
I sat myself down in front of the shop as a bootleg of Bob Dylan THE GREAT WHITE WONDER spilled it's sounds into the street.Cars were backed up now as rednecks came to look at the hippies. No cops in sight. Duane Allman walked by. He smiled and said, "Hey Flash. Far out" and walked over to me. He sat down next to me on the sidewalk.
 
"Hey dude", he said in his always friendly southern tone. "What's happenin"?" and I told him he'd missed the Brotherhood giving out free sunshine. We talked about the music coming from the store and I told him I wished I knew about the blues. I knew the British and American versions, some B.B. King, and that was about it. He told me to come with him. So we go behind the shop and we get on his bike and take off. I'm starting to trip hard riding with Duane and we get to his place and go inside.
 
He has a collection of 78's and 45's that is the biggest I've ever seen.
 
He hands me a beer and sits me down.
 
"This is Delta blues, this record is from 1933", and so begins my class on the blues.
 
For the next 7 hours or so, I heard every form of the blues. Who played on the record. How it was recorded. What happened to the artist. From Duane Allman.
 
And I thought what a great day. And I thought it would always be like this.
 
LIFE IS A CARNIVAL
You can walk on the water, drown in the sand
You can fly off a mountaintop if anybody can
Run away, run away--it's the restless age
Look away, look away--you can turn the page

Hey, buddy, would you like to buy a watch real cheap
Here on the street
I got six on each arm and two more round my feet
Life is a carnival--believe it or not
Life is a carnival--two bits a shot

Saw a man with the jinx in the third degree
From trying to deal with people--people you can't see 
Take away, take away, this house of mirrors 
Give away, give away, all the souvenirs 
We're all in the same boat ready to float off the edge of the world
The flat old world
The street is a sideshow from the peddler to the corner girl 
Life is a carnival--it's in the book 
Life is a carnival--take another look

Hey, buddy, would you like to buy a watch real cheap
Here on the street
I got six on each arm and two more round my feet
Life is a carnival--believe it or not
Life is a carnival--two bits a shot
- The Band

Posted at 07:11 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, December 28, 2006
Close Calls

SECOND GROUP GAME: CLOSE CALLS
 
Skip Williamson was one of my personal saviors. He had practically helped invent the underground comic books I had read as a hippie kid,
 
he was a total art genius who had provided much eye candy for tripping hippies. Not only did he have an eye for his own art, he could spot talent a mile away. I had brought him artists like Tim Anderson fresh out of college, Will Northerner, and a guy named Mitch O'Connell
all brilliant- but basically comic book guys I didn't really hang with. Comic book guys are funny. They can be your best pal, then when a girl comes along- they drop all their friends the woman doesn't like. But Skip- Jesus- we destroyed the Gold Coast together so many times it wasn't funny. He was a biker without a bike, a poet a hoodlum a fellow drinker a hell raiser a man's man. Somehow, he had become one of the Art Directors at PLAYBOY. And the issues he did art editing on are still highly prized by those in the know. I would meet him at his office for lunch and we would teach the bars we went to how to make Long Island Iced Teas. I still believe we re-introduced the drink to Chicago, as at the time no bar was serving them in Chicago.
 
And when a girl would tell him to get rid of me, he just laughed it off and ordered another round.
 
Once he took out $600 to buy a leather jacket and we headed to Oak Street to get buzzed into an exclusive clothing store. They took one look at Skip, who resembled a biker, and wouldn't let us in! An art director from PLAYBOY with $600 cash in his pocket and they were afraid of him!
 
That is Skip. I thought that was cool as hell.
 
A lot of guys at Playboy use their job to get laid. Not Skip. Babes would come on to him and he would walk away. If he had a girl, that was it. That was enough. How cool is that?
 
Before I took Patti in to see Skip- I had to get her off coke.
 
So I sat her with one night- and she stopped. The funny thing about addictions is that once the person decides to quit- they just do it. When Patti went through two days without doing a line, and flushed the quarter ounce she had down the toilet, I knew it was ok to take her to Playboy.
 
But first, she wanted me to go to the Blues Brothers Bar, and meet this guy named Del Close.
 
I had never had a girl tell me they wanted me to meet one of the other guys they were fucking before, unless it was a three way. But she said we had the same sense of humor and I should meet him. He was one of the teachers and directors at Second City.
 
I had been to Second City in college, they didn't card so college kids could drink at the late show.
 
We went to the Blues Bar and there he was. Holding court. Surrounded by students hanging on to his every word. He saw Patti and broke into a huge smile and they hugged.
 
Gee, that wasn't awkward for me!
 
Patti had to go, she made the introductions and Del asked his students if he could speak to me alone.
 
Class dismissed.
 
I sat down and his eyes teared up. "I heard what you did for Patti", he said, " Thank you".
 
And then I said, "Well I had read MOONCHILD by Aleister Crowley so I knew how to get people off drugs".
 
He looked stunned. "You know about Aleister Crowley?" he asked.
 
Well, Kenneth Anger, one of the heads of the O.T.O. was a friend of mine and-
"You know Ken Anger?", he asked.
 
"Yep, since I was 17. I had written him that I thought I had figured out sex magick and he invited me to his his home in NYC. I brought a girl from the Art Institute with me and we had sex in one room, while Ken had a chess board in the other. I would visualize the board and shout out my moves while having sex with the Art Girl from the Art Institute I had met and fallen hard for and though I didn't win, the game went about two hours.", I said.
 
We talked of Crowley's poetry,
Hymn to Lucifer
 
  Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?
Without its climax, death, what savour hath
Life? an impeccable machine, exact
He paces an inane and pointless path
To glut brute appetites, his sole content
How tedious were he fit to comprehend
Himself! More, this our noble element
Of fire in nature, love in spirit, unkenned
Life hath no spring, no axle, and no end.

His body a bloody-ruby radiant
With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer
Swept through the dawn colossal, swift aslant
On Eden's imbecile perimeter.
He blessed nonentity with every curse
And spiced with sorrow the dull soul of sense,
Breathed life into the sterile universe,
With Love and Knowledge drove out innocence
The Key of Joy is disobedience.
 
Ken's films (he helped create underground movies with FIREWORKS, SCORPIO RISING and other films).
 
I told him I was into Japanese animation. He hadn't seen any, because in those days those cartoons weren't available here.
 
And the time passed and we agreed to meet at my place in a few days.
 
I dug the guy. But didn't know anything about him really.
 
Let me just say that in all the years we knew each other, Del never raised his voice or questioned me or anything like that. Never. I was surprised years later to hear how hard he was on people, phonies and assholes. He never even raised his voice at me.
 
It was time for sleep, and to take Patti to Playboy.
 

Posted at 11:34 pm by Psychomike
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Sunday, January 14, 2007
What Happened At Playboy?

 
 
I walked past the Treasure Island grocery store and stepped off the sidewalk and headed down the path to Steve's Blues Bar, wondering if people who saw me go through the gate knew where I was going. I walked down the well trod path to the simple little house that housed the wildest party in Chicago. Steve smiled and said hello as I walked in, ready to party.
 
And meet Del. And Patti. I saw Del at the bar and walked over and said hello and then Patti walked over. Size 2 dress, fuck me heels to here, plunging neckline, and laughing and happy.
 
Del asked, "What happened at Playboy" and I told him about taking her to meet Skip and then the fellow who did the initial selection of girls for the centerfold and then the head of the modeling agency and then-
 
Everyone each step of the way agreeing to work with her.
 
The three of us laughed and talked and every now and then Patti would look over at me right in the eyes and squeeze my hand.
 
I woke up in the morning and watched her sleep but I knew it was time to go to work. I got dressed and ran out the door to look at footage shot for THE WILD KINGDOM and as I left the building I saw a long limo in front.
 
Two guys stood by the car. Eyeing me. As I walked by them, one pressed a gun into my back.
 
"Get in the car", he said softly, "someone wants to talk to you".
 
What happens to you in life is that if a Chicago policeman holds a gun on you and you know he can shoot you and get away with it, it's difficult to be threatened by a gun unfired.
 
I walked away.
 
As I hit Armitage to turn towards Clark I looked over and saw them standing by the car. Stunned.
 
When I got home that night Patti was upset. And shaking.
 
She said to me that she never meant to get me in trouble, she should never have gone to Playboy and ..........
 
I explained to her after being in riots, spied on by every U.S. Intel group in the late 1960's and even threatened by the Georgia KKK really I could handle it.
 
And we were going through the headshots, photos and auditions and she was going to make it.
 
Period.
 
For three days Patti discovered she really was beautiful, and I reaped the rewards.
 
After watching hours of footage of animals having sex that the cameramen had shot to amuse the editors I headed home. But Patti wasn't there.
 
There was a note.
 
" I have to meet my mom at my sister's place. She flew in from LA".
 
Momma's back.........
 
END OF CHAPTER 1
 
CHAPTER 2: THE MONOLOG: OF LOVECRAFT, HUBBARD, CROWLEY AND ANGER
 
Click on NEXT PAGE in the right hand corner for chapter 2
 
 

Posted at 08:09 pm by Psychomike
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Sunday, January 28, 2007
The Road To "Bob"

CHAPTER 2: THE MONOLOG
 
THE ROAD TO "BOB"
 
H.P. Lovecraft is more known and read in death than he ever was in his own life. Science fiction fans published fanzines, small print journals usually of less than 100 copies exploring the works of the popular pulp fiction writers of the day. Often they would try their own hand at pulp writing in these zines, and these are the publications you would have to go to read his work. http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio3/sundayfeature/pip/t8iz3/
 
 
He was the science fiction nerd before anyone knew the term, retreating into his home with his mom for years at a time to read. He battled anti-social behavior most of his life, going as far as to name his cat "Nigger" so his neighbors would often only see him on his porch calling for the cat!
 
His friends grew to protect him, bring him out of the house, and reawaken his spirit. Usually showing up to help him as he turned suicidal.
 
After his death his friends started Arkham House to publish his works. Del had them all. The stories of beings from other dimensions, of secret Middle Eastern texts that summon things better left unnamed would have a profound impact on the people who read them. Lovecraft was never a best selling author, yet everyone who read him seemed to go into creative fields. Filmmakers, playwrights, comic book artists, pulp authors, even the occult world studied his work. Lovecraft himself did not believe in summoning demons, but after reading him many of his readers did. Del loved his Arkham collection, which had survived brutal poverty, drug and alcohol addiction, abrupt relationship endings. He wrote on the wall of his home next to his bed that I was to receive the books upon his death. I often wondered what women thought as they noticed this writing on the wall next to his bed! I'm still waiting on those books.
 
Today instead of a fanzine Lovecraft would have been on the net. But he would still have been living with his mother!  http://www.themodernword.com/scriptorium/lovecraft.html
 
Del and Lovecraft missed the world of blogs. Or folks like me writing a book using the blog concept with something fanzines could never have- links, for further study.
 
Orson Welles wanted a camera, and his mom would hock her jewelry to get him one. Kenneth Anger wanted to make movies, so he took the family silverware and split from his stifling home. He had shot FIREWORKS in his home when his family was away, and he had caught the film bug. Ken had read Lovecraft and the pulps, he'd been part of the science fiction fandom of the time, he had exploded in the art world when many still debated whether film could be an art form. Jean Cocteau in France wanted to meet him, so goodbye family! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kenneth_Anger
 
Ken had also discovered the writings of Aleister Crowley. His films reflected on Crowley's teachings, which in an odd way were similar to the world created by Lovecraft. Both men were atheists in the traditional sense, though while Lovecraft was shy of the public, Crowley loved tweaking societies nose. Crowley took mushrooms and performed rituals- in public. He wrote of the joys of hashish. He introduced the west to yoga and Oriental philosophy ( though his emphasis was speculation on tantric sex) and his work as a secretary to the founder of the Wicca movement would be felt to the present day. http://www.hermetic.com/crowley/confess/
 
Del collected first editions of Crowley's work as well as Lovecraft. Ken collected Crowley. Artwork, his diary, letters and more. All of which I was allowed to study when I visited Ken in NYC with Art Girl. As a result of our NY trip we had fallen deeply in love, so much so that I would overlook Art Girls numerous outside liaisons and would one day be left waiting to board a boat for a Press Club party as she told me she would be married in two weeks, but that we could still see each other.
 
Today I would have said yes, but then I stood crushed, my eyes filled with tears.
 
I hit a wall of pain.
 
The world as we know it, is filled with pain.  Aleister Crowley
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Posted at 11:49 am by Psychomike
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Monday, January 29, 2007
Crowley, Hubbard and Del!

Aleister Crowley was born into a religious cult, The Plymouth Brethren, that he despised. The groups strict rules and anti-sex attitude drove Crowley to search out secret societies that dealt with magick. He found the Golden Dawn, with a membership that included Bram Stoker (the author of DRACULA). In magick circles at the time the idea was there were forces outside our reality that could occupy our bodies and cause mayhem until they were removed.
 
In Black Magick the idea was to summon these forces, but with great care.
 
Crowley had decided to use both Black and White magick, and had no fear of the forces summoned.
 
He would shatter the Dawn, and embark on his Great Work. He bought a home in the Loc Ness to do the most difficult summoning ritual (that took 6 months to do!), but would later abandon the work after meeting a woman he would marry a day later (!) and would take to Egypt.
 
In Egypt he would summon an Egyptian God whom would stay with him from that point on. He traveled to Spain to create his own abbey and religion and set out to destroy egos, and "clear" people of outside forces that were negative in their lives. He merged sex with religion, realizing that in the sex act a portal was created - a short cut- to the energies of the universe.
 
Crowley would predict an age when youth would reign supreme. Sexual barriers would be abolished,  man would choose the laws they would follow. He predicted that drugs would fuel this revolution.
 
So in the mid 1960's as a sexual and political underground took hold- his ideas suddenly seemed very prophetic. The Beatles would put him on the cover of SGT. PEPPER. The Rolling Stones would do the song SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL about Kenneth Anger and his awareness of Crowley, an awareness he had spread throughout the UK in the Swinging 60's. Even the slogan of the day, Do your own thing, was based on Crowley's slogan, DO WHAT THOU WILL. Timothy Leary was preaching about LSD and sex on LSD.
 
For the first time in America, people began living together out of wedlock, taking drugs that were illegal. Homosexuality became ho hum instead of an illness to be cured by lobotomies and therapy. Women were no longer considered fallen if they had sex outside marriage. The collapse of the hippie era led to the disco era- when all the people who hated hippies began living together, taking drugs like cocaine and Quaaludes, and "coming out" of the morality of the day.
 
A process many argue is still going on.
 
Crowley died before the hippies came around. But before he did, he wrote and corresponded with a follower who was also Del's therapist.
 
A man by the name of L. Ron Hubbard.

Posted at 01:30 pm by Psychomike
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Friday, February 02, 2007
Enter Hubbard- Del's Therapist!

L. RON HUBBARD
 
Youth. The coming age of youth, Crowley predicted. What was life like before the baby boomer era, and the ongoing love affair with everything young?
 
When you look at the ages of the people getting married from the pilgrims to the wild west right on up to the depression and World War 2 one notices a huge discrepancy in age between married couples. Before World War 1 that discrepancy could be as much as 20 or 30 years. The explanation for this is simple- many women died in childbirth. Women in their 40's weren't willing to uproot and move out west, but teen girls and girls in their 20's would. Music, plays, finally films- were all geared for entire populations. There was no youth market. Kids dressed in suits like their dads, women were told at 18 to either get married or become a teacher or secretary- and try to marry a man at the job. ( Today a girl like that would be sent to "sensitivity classes"). Look at the Mickey Rooney films of the 30's (ANDY HARDY) and he wears suits, dads are shown as all knowing, everyone likes the same music.
 
In World War 2 sailors and soldiers dreamed of islands inhabited all by beautiful young girls- which would lead to a slew of men's magazines about Amazon tribes found on an island during the war, scantily clad stunning women tortured by enemies, all of it culminating in Tiki culture and Bettie Page. Both of which are still around and more popular than ever.
 
 
 
After the war, states like Illinois passed laws that men had to be 21 to drink, but women could drink at 18. Have parents or grandparents who married between 1945 to 1965? You may have noticed they usually aren't the same age.
 
Being surrounded by pretty young girls was every sailors fantasy.
 
The two studs of the 40's and 50's, Errol Flynn and Ali Khan were middle aged. Khan was fat, balding. Yet he dated Gene Tierney, Rita Hayworth, and almost every single young beautiful socialite and actress that was known at the time.
 
Ben Hecht, the Chicago newspaperman who wrote plays and films (THE FRONT PAGE has been made and re-made over and over) contributed to all this with his script THE QUEEN OF OUTER SPACE with the Paris Hilton of the 50's, Zsa Zsa Gabor. It is about soldiers stranded on a planet of women! 
 
Then along came James Dean, who Del knew (more on that coming) and suddenly a t- shirt and red breaker jacket became a uniform for young people everywhere. Rock music began to appear, and was instantly hated by the all ages folk music crowd. It was red neck music with a colored beat. And it wasn't even jazz. Just 4 chords and a riff. But young people were creating their own fashions and music and films. The cat was out of the bag.
 
Divorce was uncommon and in many areas unknown before the youth rebellion. But when kids the same age started hooking up, and there was no longer an already established person or mature person in the relationship, divorce from 18 to 34 went through the roof. And has continued to do so.
 
So did Crowley cause this age to occur? Or was it marketing? Was the youth culture nurtured and centuries of dating and marrying habits changed to make it easier to sell to people? Will it pass as the baby boomers grow up? And the size of the youth market diminishes?
 
We shall see.
 
Critics of Scientology and L. Ron Hubbard often question his past. Well, I'm someone who left home at 12 and 1/2 and never went back. I was suspended from Grady High School in Atlanta after I discovered that many poor schools were picking out girls that were considered to be so flirty that they would grow up to be promiscuous and were being sterilized. Keep in mind, this was before they had actually done anything sexually. I was caught passing out leaflets at a PTA meeting urging parents not to do this to their kids. (In Ireland and the UK in the 20th century, Catholic girls who were thought be too pretty were sent to work camps and forced to work all day and half the night as punishment for having looks that would tempt men. So please, spare me the 'real religion' versus 'fake religion' crap). I would get kicked out for protesting mandatory ROTC as you read earlier. I came to Chicago, got a scholarship to go to the Art Institute and took my academic classes at Roosevelt and the University of Chicago. I lived in a lesbian commune, where I discovered 95% of the lesbians were actually bi.
 
Look, I'm reading that and I don't believe it. But it happens to be true. I was a high school kid kicked out and homeless and I ended up a college student, and my second year, became the first second year student to actually teach- and get paid for it, at the school! Over the objections of 90% of the college profs. I was even allowed to skip faculty meetings! I can tell you about the power of the will!
 
So do I believe Lafayette Ronald Hubbard at 6 was taught to read Shakespeare?
 
Yes. You see there were two books everyone who went out west took with them, from the settler days on. The Bible. And works of Shakespeare. Many people for decades learned to read from those two books.
 
Do I believe he entered the Boy Scouts and earned Eagle Scout in less than five months?  Yes actually, because he wasn't the only one! In the period he was growing up it was possible to become an Eagle Scout within a year (that practice has since ended).
 
As an ex-member of the biggest cult in western culture, Catholicism, nothing that Scientology has been accused of comes close to the deaths from fights between Catholics and Protestants, burning witches, killing scientists, land grabs etc. NOTHING. So, which one is real? By the way, right now in Ireland and the UK charges that police collaborated to torture and assassinate Catholics by the hundreds are rocking the two nations. Protestants have kept the old traditions alive! In fact, the press is speculating as I write that far more Catholics were killed by torture and assassination than all those killed by IRA bombs. This isn't the far past- this is now. I won't even bring up the Spanish missionaries blessing unarmed Indian tribes, before soldiers opened fire and killed them.
 
So. Which is the harmful cult?
 
There is only one known interview with Hubbard in the regular press, let's read it, and then I'll discuss Del's therapy sessions with Hubbard in this monolog. And more on this fascinating philosopher, Hubbard.
 
By the way, all my life stories up to now must seem romanticized. The darkness is coming.
 
 
1968

The only time Hubbard allowed an outside crew to interview him.

Granada Television  -  England

 
 
V.O) Tonight, World in Action has tracked down one of the most elusive men on earth.

This was the end of our search, an ex cattle boat, The Royal Scotman, docked at Bizerte, a small port in North Africa. On board, about 250 people making some sort of a crew and this, mysterious man. The local ice cream man thought he was a great scientist looking for insects. Everybody seems to think he is a millionaire. These are no ordinary sea men; their allegiance and devotion to the mysterious man is total. To them, he is: "My Commodore."

The man is L. Ron Hubbard: charmer, science fiction writer and showman, the creator of Scientology and the man who is pushing it into its new more militant phase. He now requires that his crew must have training in judo and weaponry and that they must be ethically beyond reproach, tough, formidable and effective. To them, he is a savior. One of them wrote: " ...that which I have really found is the nearness to the greatness which is Ron, our founder. To me, above all, my Commodore."

Today, shyness[?] has overcome Mr. Hubbard when asked to appear on television. After several weeks of hunting for him with the help of almost every radio station along the mediterranean and beyond, World in Action at last tracked Hubbard down. Just before dawn, on a recent Sunday morning, Hubbard, who finds sleeping difficult, decided at last to speak. He spoke for a long long time about his money, his beliefs, his critics and the new authoritarian structure of Scientology. But first he spoke about his troubles with the British government. He put on his hat, he smiled and he began.

Hubbard: Well, that's very interesting, but let's correct an impression first. You said you were in trouble. Let's get my relationship to this completely straight and so on... I am the writer of the textbooks of Scientology. About 2 1/2 years ago or so I even ceased to be the director of organisations. The governement, in the first place I'm not in trouble with the British government not even faintly, and if I went in today or tomorrow through immigration they would tip their hats and say: "How are you Mr. Hubbard" as they have been doing for years.

(V.O) The immigration officials might well tip their hats, but they couldn't let him in. The day we filmed Mr Hubbard the Home Office decided that Britain would be better off without him.

The Shrinking World of L Ron Hubbard

(V.O) Saint Hill Manor, England. Hubbard's British headquarters handling an income of something like 1 million £ a year. But as Scientology expands more and more governments and mental health authorities condemn it.

Journalist: I wondered, Mr Hubbard, if you could explain simply to a layman what Scientology is?

Hubbard: I think that would be a relatively easy idea[?] because it is actually a subject which is designed for the layman and if you couldn't explain it to the layman you would have a very difficult time on it. The subject, the name means "scio," which means knowing how to know in the fullest sense of the word, "ology" which is study of, so it is actually study of knowingness [sic]. That is what the word itself means. The...

Journalist: To me that doesn't mean very much. I didn't understand that. I mean, what does it do for you - in theory?

Hubbard: It increases one's knowingness. But if a man were totally aware of what was going on around him, he would find it relatively simple to handle any outnesses [sic] [note: that word not only is not an english word, but it is not even defined in any Scientology dictionaries] in that. [sic]

(V.O): After 3 hours of talking we never got an explanation from him that we could understand.

In fact, Scientology is a faith, a religion. Because faiths are now out of fashion it calls itself a science. But scientists would just have as much difficulty with the beliefs of Scientology as they do with virgin births and resurrection from the dead.

Saint Hill is a nice place, Scientologists are very friendly and honestly believe they can help whoever goes to them. Usually, they can.

Scientologists do 2 basic things; first, they sit for hours listening to recordings of Hubbard and they are examined to see how well they learnt it.

Hubbard on tape

Now the mind when it has an old experience will add that data into its current experience and it keeps coming up with wrong answers. A profesor looks at some college student -ah- with a slight -ah- twitch -ah- of the-ah- eyes. And this girl says: "he has winked at me." [garbled]

(V.O) What he tells them, when you cut through the jargon, is partly good sense, teaching his disciples how to calm down and deal with the things that worry them. The rest is religious ramblings and stories about his achievements in this life and the ones he's led before which are as imaginative as his science fiction.

Hubbard on tape continues

... because she was assaulted when she was 10 by this fellow who winked at her first and it messed her up considerably.

Student, on tape

I don't understand what "out-conscious" are... [garbled]

(V.O) The real hooker in Scientology is this instrument. They call it an E-meter. It's a very simple electronic device that's been around for years as a lie detector. There is no mystery whatsoever about it. Hubbard uses it in a process he calls auditing; the Scientologist's confessional. Here, the student talks often for many hundreds of expensive hours about himself. His inner-most secrets are dug into. As they question embarrassment, fear, guilt, shame any emotion will make the needle waver.

American courts have condemned the E-meter of being totally unscientific; it measures only emotion. It can't distinguish between fantasy and reality. If you feel ashamed because you believe that, in a previous incarnation, you hammered the nails into Christ's feet, the Scientologists think that proves that you lived before as a Roman centurion. Unburdened, the student feels free at last. It's this area that is a deepest concern to the medical world, although discussing the deepest problems naturally makes many people feel better, the Scientologists also applied this technique to people in no fit mental state to stand it. Sometimes, digging with the best will in the world into a student's problems they can reduce him into a state of collapse well known to psychiatrists. The Scientologists gayly call it the sad effect [sic]. The only mystery about the e-meter is its price. In a recent US income tax trial, it was stated that it cost about 4 £ and 9d to make while Hubbard was selling it for between 44 and 51£. As the court commissioners said, such profitability, while not at all conclusive, is indicative of a commercial operation.

Award ceremony - MC

The Hubbard College of Scientology Qualifications division department of Certifications and Awards does hereby certify that Janet E Lundy has obtained the state of Clear!

[Applause]

(V.O) This girl has reached her goal: she's gone "clear." Clears like her have gone through a list of 60 questions written in Hubbard 's own handwriting without showing any emotional reaction on the E-meter to any of them. Towards us the unbelievers they feel pity, they call us "wogs" [racist term]

Janet

I've never given a speech before, so this is the first one for me, but I did want to say one thing -ah- validate yourselves [cult's jargon] you're beautiful, thank you.

(V.O) For many, Scientology becomes not only a faith but a way of life. They become dependent upon the org for their social life and even their livelihood. They work for very long hours and almost no money. A year ago, the org did not deny a profit of 1/2 a million £ since then the income has touched 30 000 £ a week. They neither know nor care what happens to the money.

About 3 years ago, Hubbard introduced a new note into his new kingdom, discipline. He laid down a rigid line of conduct. Since then, the ethics department has taken over more and more. This is one of Hubbard ethics orders on critics of Scientology, so called suppressives.

SP ORDER - FAIR GAME

May be deprived of property or injured by any means by any Scientologist without any discipline of the Scientologist. May be tricked, sued, or lied to, or destroyed.

Last year, Hubbard wrote:

Now get this as a technical fact, not a hopeful idea. Every time we've investigated the background of a critic of Scientology, we have found crimes which that person or group could be emprisoned under existing law. We do not find critics of Scientology who do not have criminal pasts. Over and over we prove this.

Politician A stand up on his hind legs in a parliament and brays for a condemnation of Scientology. When we look him over we find crimes: embezzled funds, moral lapses, a thirst for young boys - sordid stuff. Wife B howls at her husband for attending a Scientology group. We look her up and find she had a baby he didn't know about.

Most recently, Hubbard wrote this about a group of people who defended against the ethics department.

They are declared enemies of mankind, the planet, and all life. They are fair game. No amnesty may ever cover them. The criminal prosecution bureau is to find any and all crimes in their past and have them brought to court and a prison. Any sea organisation member contacting any of them is to use auditing process R2-45.

Hubbard called R2-45 "an enormously effective process of exteriorization frowned upon by society at this time."

But it's here back on the ship with Hubbard that ethics really flourish. The stated purpose of the ship is to "get ethics in." Hubbard is captain. On the ship he is not governed by English law. But we asked him about his authoritarian activities at his English headquarters.

Hubbard: If there is an authoritarian structure at Saint Hill, it has been brought into being by the government itself. Saint Hill is trying to correct itself; it doesn't know what it's trying to correct because nobody has told it what to correct. We get these odd allegations, we used to in the old days and I'm sure they still do, and all I'd have to do, all Robinson would have to do is say: "You fellows mustn't do so and so and you must do so and so and immediately these fellows would straighten out -ah- as it is...

Journalist: but listen , but surely...

Hubbard: They trying to prevent Scientologists from doing something wrong but they don't know what would be wrong

Journalist: but Britain, we hope is not an authoritarian place it does not say to people you will now stop doing this, you will now start doing that. And that is what your organisation does and some people find that helpful they're told by you, and I'm sure you can do it very well...

Hubbard: ...not by me, not by me, the ship's company right now -ah-...

Journalist: they think they're told by you at Saint-Hill and they feel that you are a strength for them in that way

Hubbard: Anybody who has inspired a movement would be a strength for them. But let me clarify this very definitely. It is not an authoritarian organisation and the only reason why it is trying desperately to keep itself in some sort of very firm order and so on is because they're trying to correct things.

Journalist: But surely it's authoritarian in its treatment of suppressive people that kind of thing, I mean, you don't allow criticism.

Hubbard: Oh no a suppressive person isn't critical, a suppressive person is a person who denies the right of others.

Journalist: But surely you are doing precisely that thing to them by denying them the right to do what they want to do.

Hubbard: Perhaps but if it's somebody's [sic] going to kill a baby I think you would deny him the right too. This is beside the point. The only thing, the only reason why any discipline has had to enter the scene, and the government should be very glad of that discipline, is to keep the lunatic fringe and from other people from exploiting this subject, and victimising people with it. If the government were to knock out the control point of Scientology they would reap the whirlwinds.

Why do they just fight it and say there's something bad but they never specify what's bad. They haven't specified. For instance, right now they say we're breaking up marriages. Why, that's a lie. As a matter of fact they're saying that at the moment when you've got this book which was just about to go on the press is "How to save your marriage" because it contains thousands of successful marriages.

Journalist: How many times have you been married?

Hubbard: How many times have I been married? I've been married twice. And I 'm very happily married just now, I have a lovely wife, I have 4 children, my first wife is dead.

Journalist: What happened to your second wife?

Hubbard:I've never had a second wife.

(V.O) What Hubbard said happens to be untrue. It's an unimportant detail but he's had 3 wives. He did have a second wife, Sarah Northrup Hubbard, from whom he was divorced on the 12th of June, 1951. He has at least 3 other children. What is important is that his followers were there as he lied, but no matter what the evidence they don't believe it.

Journalist: What are you actually doing on this ship now?

Hubbard: I am studying ancient civilisations trying to find what happened to them finding out why they went into decline why they died.

Journalist: This studying, what do you do, how do you do it?

Hubbard: I have sent out several people to look over areas and so on they come back they tell me what they are, I go out to the important ones.

Journalist: Do you believe that you have lived before?

Hubbard: Now to answer that question would be very unfair.

Journalist: Scientologists believe they lived before, though, don't they?

Hubbard: Oh yes as a matter of fact it's quite interesting that exercises can be conducted which demonstrate conclusively that there are memories which exist prior to this life.

Ship PA system

This is a drill, this is a drill. Fire. Fire. Fire on poop deck

(V.O) These are some of the faithful at fire drill, one of the few things we were able to film before they got angry.

One crew member wrote a letter published in the ship's magazine:

My body was seen in the ship at a certain place, whereas at the very time it was being seen, I was discussing the various spots[?] with another 3 sea org members way away from where I was seen.

After this I received three letters from South Africa the writers of which were glad having seen me and congratulated me on looking so well. My last time in South Africa was in 1957.

Recently I went there 4 times bodyless, to see my friend Chris Veideman[?]. Mybody has not left Spain since it got here.

(V.O) Those who stay provide Hubbard with an almost free crew. There are no professional sailors he pays them just enough for cigarettes and sweets but they pay him rather more. The new advanced courses costs something more than 1000 £ plus keep, payable to an account in the name of Hubbard's present wife. If all 250 people have signed for these advanced courses, which according to Hubbard can be completed in weeks, days and even hours, that makes over a quarter of a million £. The scrapers could be scraping for quite some time; they've been asked to sign a contract for 1 billion years.

Journalist: You say that you have retired from Scientology, you're now on a very smart and spenditious ship, well what are you doing on the ship?

Hubbard: I don't think the labour government ought to know this, because they don't aprove of loafing, but I'm loafing.

Journalist: What are you loafing on? on what proceeds? Where did you get all the money to loaf?

Hubbard: Well one tends to overlook the fact that all during the thirties, and actually during the late forties, I was a highly successful writer, and a great many propertiesand so on accumulated during that period of time.

Journalist: ...is that really where the money for all this comes from?

Hubbard: Yes - yes, one of the things...

Journalist: It doesn't come from the Scientologists at Saint Hill?

Hubbard: No the Scientologists at Saint Hill. As a matter of fact, I wish I had the bill here to show you, but we added up over the years what monies I had loaned organisations and what monies of mine personally, royalties and so on, had been collected by Scientology organisations, and the amount of money paid out for research, and it amounts to 13 millions $. That's a fantastic sum of money.

Journalist: because the other thing that we hear about are things like Swiss bank accounts, the Bigtay[??] bank, that kind of thing, and there is a great temptation to believe that your yacht and the standard of life to which you are now accustomed is paid for by Scientologist in England

Hubbard: The amounts of money in Switzerland are minimal, very small amount of money.

Journalist: So why do you have Swiss bank accounts?

Hubbard: I don't have Swiss bank accounts, there is - there is a bank account in Switzerland I don't know how much money is in it but not very much. The amount of money which comes to me, at this time, is mostly capital, because I don't take any income; these days in days of income tax it's almost impossible to take any income.

Journalist: So your capital, that did come from the Scientologists?

Hubbard: No. No, the Scientologists and so on... Actually, what I tell you is quite true.

Journalist: ...yes but the only problem I have with that sum is you haven't told me where the money does come from. Where the obviously very large sums of money that you have...

Hubbard: Ah there were very very large sums of money that I made when I was very young. 15 million published words and a great many successful movies don't make nothing.

(V.O) Hubbard's finances are almost impossible to unravel but in the pre-boom days of Scientology from 55 to 59 he and his immediate family got at least 154.971 $, plus a percentage usually 10 of the gross income of all other scientology organisations. If he still gets 10 % from Saint Hill alone, that's roughly 100 000 £ a year. And he doesn't deny selling his name to the organisation for a 100 000 £ but says he never got the money.

Journalist: Don't you wake up some times in the middle of the night and think to yourself "Well I've been on this ship with a whole lot of Scientologists who believe I'm fantastic? I've been here for a whole year and not seen anybody else and I wish to hell I could get away from them?"

Hubbard: Ha ha. Well I haven't been here a whole year you know. I have been out associating with Arabs and all kinds of people. Ah, one of the way you learn about life is to associate with people and ...

Journalist: But you don't! you only associate with Scientologists

Hubbard: Perfectly happy to associate with anybody. The whole point about it is that they don't believe I'm fantastic if you saw the number of times they [grins] don't follow my orders

Journalist: You say that Scientology is a science. Now, it seems to me that Scientologists believe quite a lot of things which would be scientifically unacceptable and that, therefore, Scientology isn't a science at all, it's a faith like flying saucers are a faith.

Hubbard: Ha ha ha ha ha! A science is something which is constructed from truth on workable axioms, there are 55 axioms in Scientology which are very demonstrably true and on these can be constructed a great deal...

Journalist: But there are also a lot of things that aren't true.

Hubbard: Not necessarily aren't true but aren't usual.

Journalist: But you think you're OK, yeah?

Hubbard: Well, I don't know that I'm OK any more than anybody else is OK but I've led at least a happy life and a very full one, I have a happy marriage, and my kids are all cheerful and I'm not - nobody's finding any fault with me personally.

Journalist: Do you ever think that you might be quite mad?

Hubbard: Oh yes! The one man in the world who never believes he's mad is the madman.

Posted at 10:04 am by Psychomike
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