In the early 90s, business was booming for L. Ron Hubbard's brainspawn, Scientology.
Ron lectured that the main goal of a Scientologist is to get up the Bridge, bring in others, and thus create a Scientology planet.
Ron eschewed fundraisers; bake sales, pirate nights and other events. It was important, he said, to keep the acquisition of MEST (stuff, things, possessions) subordinate to selling courses and auditing sessions that bring people in and keep them coming back for more.
These days, it appears the wee mite who succeeded Hubbard, the miniscule David Miscavige, failed to take those lectures to heart.
He should have listened to Ron. For some reason this high school dropout former Commodore's Messenger thought he knew better than the Old Man, and people inside the organization are beginning to notice.
In the past ten years, the Scientology organization has been pressuring members worldwide to raise funds and purchase an Ideal Org for their communities. It is imperative that these be established as soon as possible, as the world is in a downward spiral and only Scientology can save it.
The way the Ideal Org fantasy is spun reminds me of the old Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes ads we used to get; fat envelopes in the mail stuffed with glossy pictures of prizes, a sheet of stickers used in the process, reams of really effective PR material, and of course an order form and catalog.
The PCH material leads you, as a willing participant, along a fantasy walk in which you've won a million dollars, a car, and a weekend in New York City as their guest. You're asked which classic luxury hotel you wish to stay in. Would you like the Vanderbilt Room, or the Hemingway?
Place the sticker depicting the car you'd like on the form. Jaguar, or SUV? Red, silver or black?
Which Broadway show would you like to see while you're in New York? Cats? Anything but Cats?
We go along with it because it's fun, not because we expect to win. Harmless fun, right?
The Ideal Org fantasy draws you down a similar process; only here the intent is not to sell you a magazine, it is to lighten your cash burden and pursue the Buddhist philosophy of letting go of possessions. Heirlooms, luxury toys, boats, RVs, motorcycles, sports cars; cash 'em in and buy us an Ideal Org!
I've read promotional material from several cities where followers are promoting a fund-raiser to raise money for a selected building. These are usually large, prominent and expensive. The local org (organization) raises the funds. The building is turned over to the Scientology organization, and is then leased back to them.
Yeah, you heard that right. They buy it, give it away, and lease it back. Furthermore, the local org is responsible for renovation, upkeep, taxes and other expenses that go with owning a huge structure.
The fantasy is being sold worldwide. It goes like this; When your Ideal Org is established, it will become the hub of the community. People will turn to Scientology to solve their problems, and the Ideal Org will raise the tone of the surrounding area to the point that you will no longer have to lock your doors.
You go to the Ideal Org, parking in the beautifully landscaped parking lot. You don't bother locking your car, Scientology has turned all those hoodlums and gangstahs to the good side with their community outreach programs. There are no drug problems any longer.
You go in to the lobby and stop at the cafe for a cup of coffee before proceeding to the book store. The lobby is bustling with people of many lands; military and police squads come for courses and training. You sit in the pleasant conservatory, reading your book and drinking your coffee until it's your turn to go into session.
The reality is very different. The Ideal Orgs in some cities such as Pasadena, Washington DC, and San Francisco are gorgeous old buildings in heavily trafficked and prestigious areas. Their webs reach out to the ablest of the able, in Scientology parlance; successful people with money, influence, prominence.
Reports of staff having to warm up in winter by running out to their cars were told by an ex-Scientologist who toured several of the Ideal Orgs in the midwest, in winter. Then, as now the buildings were empty, staffed by a bunch of true believers who keep everything ready in case that flood of public described in the literature starts swarming through the door clamoring for enlightenment.
Videos of excruciatingly horrible fund raising events have been released on Youtube. The desperation behind the fake enthusiasm is palpable. It gleams in the corners of their eyes; omg what if we can't raise the $xxx,xxx,xxx we need to buy this building?
And so they gather to exhort members to dig a little deeper, because Ron said people always have a little something stashed away for a rainy day, older folks have pensions they don't need, your grandmother's gold jewelry, pfft that's just MEST (Scientology term for "stuff." Like all that stuff in your garage you haven't bothered to get rid of yet.)
You'd be really selfish to want to hang on to your stuff when there's a planet to salvage. Right? And by the way, can I talk to you about a new mortgage on your home? Is there any way we can tap into the trust supporting your mother in the expensive retirement center she's living at? We have a New Era Senior "Unretirement Rest Home" for the elderly, and we will help them select a new body before they drop theirs.
Scientology, Inc. has several "service organizations" such as this nursing home, and a drug rehab program, Narconon. It brings in large sums of money, as much as $30,000 up front, no refund, to perform quack therapy on your loved one and did we mention 'no refund?'
But, running a global empire is an expensive business. The current model in the US consists of two hubs; Los Angeles and Clearwater, Florida, and a network of local orgs and missions whose mission, in part, is to keep that raw meat walking through that door. There, they are put through a gradual fleecing process. Sometimes the org is desperate enough to jump the gradient and go for the wallet before the mark is softened up. These people come away shaking their heads at the persistent demands for their money or time. One man was amazed by the request that he provide burgers and dogs to a Scientology fundraising event. He was a butcher who was fresh in the door. He was soon out that door, another man with a weird story to tell his friends.
Next; The Scientologists Are Revolting, a look at internal struggle within the organization.