Scientology Crime Syndicate

08 Sep 2000

grahameb@aol.com (GrahamEB)


It seems that I have discovered a very effective means of clearing crowded city streets. I have tried it a number of times and it works - at least on L.Ron Hubbard Way in Hollywood, California. However, since L. Ron Hubbard Way is within scientology-controlled territory, the method may be most effective when used upon scientologists of all levels. Perhaps some of you would enlighten me with your thoughts on the subject.

In the meantime, I will describe a typical research trip into scientology held territory. This time it was the Church of $cientology's Pacific Area Command Base ("PAC Base") on L. Ron Hubbard Way. PAC occupies the old Cedars Sinai Hospital building known in the cult as Big Blue. Big because…well, you know. Blue because that was the color of the cheapest surplus paint that the cult's deity, "Ron" Hubbard, could find at the time. Now, the color could be renamed scientology blue. Not that any former scientologists I know have the blues for scientology. Indeed, on the contrary, former scientologists have no affectionate nostalgia for the para-military cult that denies basic human and civil rights to its friends and foes alike.

Our Western human and civil rights include freedom of will, freedom of religion, freedom of association and freedom of thought. Scientologists are stripped of those basic democratic and religious freedoms through Hubbard's subtle coercive indoctrination of totalitarian, satanic and dangerous beliefs. These unfortunate victims of Hubbard's insane, drug induced and science fiction based scriptures are not permitted to view any material that is critical of either Hubbard or scientology. " Hubbard is always right."

Here is the crux of how to "clear" a street behind scientology lines. Just after high noon on Thursday, September 7, 2000, I approached PAC Base from Sunset Boulevard and New Hampshire Street. At the International Association of Scientologists (IAS) building I encountered my first Sea Organization (SO) Staffer. Poor woman! Ron's scriptures had persuaded her to sign a contract to serve $cientology for one billion years, for less than $50 per week and a regular diet of rice and beans ("the rice and beanies").

Since Hubbard's socio-political model, the Third Reich, had only lasted 12 of it's promised 1,000 years, I silently wished the dour and unsmiling being ("thetan") luck. On the other hand, and unlike those of us who are Suppressive Persons (SP's) she, at least, believed that was how she would be spending the next billion years. She would, for example, be submitting "stats" or statistics by 2 pm every Thursday for the next billion years. Ah, yes. In an hour a half the entirety of the evil organizations statistics were due. Statistics on the church's production and sales that week. Stats which determine whether there would be a paycheck or time off (libs), time to spend with ones children (if a SO member is sufficiently "off purpose" to have children). Ones entire life situation determined by Thursday's stats - for a billion years!

I kept walking. My sign, "Scientology: Church of Fair Game," held proudly aloft for the benefit of passers-by. The other side of my placard reading, "LRH Died On Psych Drugs," for the benefit of scientologists. There was no security posted on Fountain Avenue so all those moving from Bridge Publications to AOLA got to read my sign. It seemed to enturbulate (upset) the scurrying SO staffers carrying their important sheaves of paper. I was fully one-third up L.Ron Hubbard Way before the single, solitary security staffer, dozing on his stationary chase cycle, looked up and recognized my advancing threat to the Hubbardians' minds.

The lower half of L. Ron Hubbard Way was congested with SO staffers sitting in the sunshine, smoking, drinking coffee, striding back and forth between the various buildings and greeting the very few arriving " on course" public members of the cult. The dazed looking security staffer anxiously spoke into his cell phone and then set about ordering the various scientologists including the OTs inside the buildings. OTs ("operating thetans") allegedly have super human powers that have been purchased at very great expense. Not even these OTs were permitted to "confront" my message of truth.

However, so brainwashed was one young staffer that she looked at the "LRH Died On Psych Drugs" and said, "It's a lie." I replied, " Vistaril. Ten recent needle marks on his buttocks." Only ten days before LRH had allegedly died, DM had reportedly said, "The only thing that will save us now is if the old man dies." DM has since denied saying this, but I digress. . . more of that story (who killed LRH) at some other time. "I will bring copies of the autopsy report on his death. I will also bring the autopsy report on the deaths of Quentin Hubbard and Flo Barnett," I responded. She said nothing and slipped into AOLA. I made a mental note of her appearance so that I could carry through with my offer. After all, I was wearing my spiffy black "Scientology Kills" t-shirt for just this sort of debate with the mind-controlled victims.

I walked on up L. Ron Hubbard Way. "Don't carry that sign outside my home, "said a man sitting on the stoop of one of the few houses on the street. I said I had the right to carry my sign on the street. Referring to the message, "LRH Died On Psych Drugs," he said, "that is a terrible thing to say about LRH". I explained, "It is the truth. Unlike the allegations that DM is having those guys publish about me. Even those allegations were suborned by OSA through blackmail, bribery and obstruction of justice." I continued, "Don't worry, I won't contaminate you with freedom if you don't want to be."

I turned and walked across to the PAC Base cafeteria, which is in the basement of Big Blue. One entire top floor window of Big Blue remains smashed and boarded up. On another floor a broken pane of glass has gone unrepaired. At the cult's Gilman Hot Springs desert base, lack of maintenance was also glaringly evident. Lack of maintenance might be a result of the relatively few publics (non-staffers) on course. Only one to three publics are showing up per hour at AOLA and fewer at Church of $cientology Los Angeles at the top end of L. Ron Hubbard Way.

This is one of the cults four main locations for the delivery of "services." On that basis not only is the 8 million-member claim preposterous, but also the more accurate 50,000 member estimate might be inflated. GI or "gross income" must be really down. When I first confronted the cult ten years ago it had all of the prosperity that a church with trade secrets implies. Then there was the Fishman - Geertz case and the Fishman declaration. That is when Hubbard's fraud, and DMs business strategy, began to unravel. Incidentally, there is a new declaration to be published soon!

By now there were six overt scientology staffers on the street. They rapidly moved the more daring stragglers inside. My message might cause "enturbulation"(upset), "nattering in the ranks" (complaining) [or a "rock slam" (a fate possibly worse than death for devout scientologists) on that religious artifact known as the e-meter]. Now, eight minutes into my picket, the street was clear. It remained that way until after 2 pm when I drifted off to a lunch appointment.

Silence was again the order of the day. Security said nothing to me. They stood at a distance, at times out of sight. I could be entirely alone on a whole city block and street. That is a strange experience in the middle of a business day in Los Angeles. There was an occasional passer- by in a car. The drivers would slow, see my sign, observe the empty street, look perplexed and then drive on in amazement.

Thus my thesis upon how to clear a street of scientologists was proven correct again. Scientologists cannot confront the truth of reality. They are brain washed, deprived of freedom of will and freedom of thought. Contradict Hubbard, criticize Scientology or tell the truth, and the security guards will herd the poor weak thetans away. Deprived of your chosen audience, you will at least enjoy all of the solitude of a totally clear street. You can even ponder whether or not to circulate a petition calling for the restoration of the name Berendo Street.

Do come and keep me company some time. Bring a crowd. Have a picnic. Have a party. Throw a rave. Throw a ball. A street cleared of scientologists has all sorts of positive potential. Try it Los Angelino's. Try it all of you. It is fun. It is free. It works. Unlike the Church of $cientology!

Graham E. Berry

Sponsored by Xenu.
"Be all you can be."


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