Scientology Crime Syndicate

2 Dec 2000

Dave Bird <dave@xemu.demon.co.uk>

> In article<7NDW6JABQVK6EwX6@jritson.demon.co.uk>, John Ritson writes:

> A clear sunny day for about ten suppressives, plus the loveable toy
> dog 'Duke', to assemble outside the Tottenham Court Road 'org'. We
> handed out leaflets, sloganised, Martin P kept up a steady commentary
> on the microphone and a good time was had by all - well, not actually
> by the Scientologists.

I got up about 07:00 and under way 08:00 to get the 08:45 train, three hour trip to London instead of two; I don't know whether this has made news abroad but the UK rail system is up the spout. Turn left out the tube station and left, left, left along to our favourite pub. There was me, Jens, John, Damian, Steve, Martin, Hartley, Roland, and another guy who will introduce himself.

At 13:00 on the dot we pitched up in front of the Org with a shout of "Carol Singers" and launched into "On the First Day of Christmas Scientology Gave Me... A Dog Drowned In a Garden Pool." For or five songs later MartinP did the microphone for slogans and text. Roland and John were in good voice too. It took 20 minutes to get the first clam out against us leafleting.


They had this new guy, all he could do over again robotically was say "hello, would you like one thank-YEW". I quickly launched into parodying HelloWoudYaLikeoneThankYEW HelloWouldYouLikeONeThankYEW (like the record "Ello John Gotta New Mota?"). Flunk for giggling, begin again, now: START. Flunk for non-confront. "Laydeez and gennnulmun, roll up rollup to see that Sceintology mark one idiot. Two months ago this was a standard model human being. Now after just fifteen hundred quid's worth of Scientology training, his vocabulary is reduced to just 7 words, HelloWouldYouLikeOne Thank-YEWWWW. "

Now, why would this person say just those seven words? Well, first he has paid a lot of money not to communicate and this is what scientology does to you. Why doesn't he say like I do ''hello, would you like a LEAFLET about SCIENTOLOGY the CULT which is trying to RIP YOU OFF.'' It seems that would enter into discussing the content of what he's handing out. From time to time I would try to increase his vocabulary by standing opposite and saying "it's not 'one' it is a 'leaflet'. Ayyy.... LeeeFlutt. Lee-Flutt. Repeat after me: Leeeflutt."

'Leaflet' did seem to be the key word, as we had only a moderate stock between us which the public eagerly took, and we kept sending out scouts in different directions to find a photocopier shop.

Several of their regular 'Foundation shift' personnel were missing (We enquired about Jacques Vollet and were assured - not very convincingly - that he was all right)

I saw the lemon-sucking trumpet-player sneak down the road for a coffee. He is still there, though he may be demoted. No sign of Koko the pencil-necked geek, or of the Piltdown Scotsman. There was a rather limp Spanish woman like a piece of wilted lettuce, who (incredibly) may be the ED now. She was taking photos rather half-heartedly. When I came up to them she did the most unconvincing tone four-and-a-bit I have ever seen. "You should be over there, you are on our property." "Nonsense." "I'm telling you." "Well, you're telling me nonsense. Look, those glass slabs for your cellar skylight are where your building -- your property -- ends, and I am on the public pavement." Wogs at cause :- !

Anyway, a pretty good demo from 13:00 to 15:30 then we went back to the pub. Weather: clear skies and cold, by me, I kept my padded jacket on throughout. All in all a nice day out. Back very soon........

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