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Featured scooterstory

Discussion in 'Stories From Inside Scientology' started by scooter, Nov 15, 2008.

  1. FoTi

    FoTi Crusader

    TANK U. :p
     
  2. Dulloldfart

    Dulloldfart Squirrel Extraordinaire

    It's an Aussie racial epithet for an Asian.

    Paul
     
  3. scooter

    scooter Gold Meritorious Patron

    A chook is a hen or a rooster - in Oz they're known singularly or collectively as chooks. There are many Oz names for Asians but I've never heard "chook" used, Paul. I won't repeat what I have heard :D

    Here's the next install for you all:


    One of the first courses I started after I finished my supervisor’s course was called Method One Word Clearing Co-audit.

    Method One was touted as a method of recovering one’s previous education by clearing up key words in the subject and looking for earlier misunderstood words until one finally got the earliest misunderstood word (or the earlier misunderstood subject) and doing this for every subject one has ever studied. I began to audit my friend Jeff on this procedure but couldn’t receive it myself because I needed an action from a higher-class auditor. I was close to finishing Jeff on it and was talked into attesting if I finished Jeff off – I was promised that I would get my own Method One as a priority after I attested.

    I was in session on Thursday morning and could hear my seniors outside listening in to what was going on with Jeff and me. I got really pissed off and realized I was just going to be taken advantage of here so wrapped Jeff up before 2 but refused to attest my course – after all, it was a co-audit and part of the checksheet said I had to comp myself before I could attest.

    I was in the poo with my seniors for a while but never got my own Method One. Finally Pete, a friend who was studying at the AO upstairs asked me if he could do it for me as he needed to do it on someone for his course. He was an ex-staff member from Syd F and not in favour with the powers-that-be in my org. I started to get sessions from Pete and we moved up to the roof off the org and audited there every afternoon, me with a singlet, shorts and hat and Pete in his sunglasses and hawaiian shirts. We continued for several weeks like this having an absolute ball of a time before we were stopped by OSA as “someone” from the surrounding buildings had complained. I was outraged – what the hell were OSA doing that they would meekly give in to a complaint like that? We wrapped it up in an auditing room downstairs but it was never the same. We’d both used to crack up laughing when Pete would ask me “Is the space OK to audit in?” instead of “Is the room….”

    But I did recover a lot of my education from this procedure and it’s remained one of my favourite actions that I did – subjects like Chemistry I found I could now think with – before they were just a blur.

    Hubbard had released his “Battlefield Earth” book – a science fiction story set in a future earth under alien occupation. I read it through in a few days and loved it. There were all these amazing ideas like travelling through space at the flick of a button just by swapping the space with another one – I spent hours with my friends discussing these in hushed terms. They MUST be possible because Hubbard had written that Sci Fi authors are just remembering past glorious civilizations that were so much better than this poor crappy Earth civilization. His contempt for current civilization was widespread through his writings and rubbed off on me and my friends.
    We just knew that what he’d written had been possible in the past and there were rumours of Scientologists working on these ideas to make them real – all to be part of the glorious civilization we would have when we finally took over the control of this degraded society

    Life as a staff member had lost a lot of the fun of the earlier days but I didn’t really notice it then – I was too busy doing my part of making sure Scientology won control of this planet from the evil Psychiatrists and their allies. I never could reconcile this with staying back until ridiculous hours in the morning on Wednesday nights just to get a student through a course. One night I stayed until 5 in the morning getting a student “completed” – after that one, I refused to do any more. But the D of T would sometimes do it or get someone else who was sup trained to do it for him.

    The Academy was slowly being established – apart from me, the old staff had all left and now there was another sup, a course admin and a word-clearer in training as well as the D of T. I was slowly getting regular course hours in and even getting to leave on time most nights – when there wasn’t some staff “all-hands” called to write letters to public “because the GI was down” or to do something similar.

    I was probably a nazi in the way I ran the courseroom. As time went on, I refused to have any student interrupted if they’d come in early to study or wanted to stay back a bit late. Recruiters and registrars alike accused me of stopping them – I was. I believed students had a right to study uninterrupted by anyone. Funnily enough, I had no complaints from the students themselves about my behaviour, and since they were the paying customers, I decided I was obviously doing the right thing.

    There would be executive panic if the academy was empty at any time. First thing on Saturday and Sunday mornings was often quiet so I’d kick all the other staff out to call students, write letters or whatever and I’d watch the few students there myself while cleaning the academy. It meant I was usually too busy to talk to any exec who walked in and that meant I had a much happier day so the students had a happy sup.

    The D of T bought a whole bunch of paint and some huge wall mural photos and we all stayed back over a few weekend nights to tart the place up. I got some plants to go with the rainforest scene that we’d put up and made clay hands to hold up the vines as they climbed the wall. I also began to get creative with old clay and soon had a collection of animals I’d made out of old hard clay. I even tried to grow a treefern in the coursroom but unfortunately they stink in confined spaces, so I had to take it home with me.

    I’d moved several times since returning to Sydney and was now working at a printing works owned by a pair of scientologists. It was while I was there that we were all called to a special staff muster one night and told Hubbard had died. A few staff cried but most of us were stunned.

    That night we had a big event in the academy where the recording of “farewell service” for Hubbard was played. We were told Hubbard had moved on as he could no longer continue his research into the upper levels of OT while he still had a body, so he left his body. But he’d left behind the whole Bridge to full OT for us. We all felt very uplifted by the end and the place buzzed for days about how Hubbard had finally conquered even death now and had prepared the way for a glorious future for all of Mankind and all life everywhere in the universe. After all, he’d said once we handle earth, there will be other planets we’ll have to Clear then.

    I continued to work each day the go to the AO to do my Professional course sup course then go to the academy to work – long days. I ended up turning up one day to find I’d been sacked and shortly thereafter the business itself went bust. One of my fellow staff was a carpet layer by trade but he lived right up north on the edge of Sydney in one of its most expensive suburbs called Church Point. He was renting a huge house there with a big garden that was full of concrete animals and formal gardens now all overgrown. I moved in with him and began to work laying carpet with him during the day then catching a ride to the org with him at night and on weekends. It was a magnificent old house with water views from all the windows on the northern side of the house. Shame we were hardly ever there to enjoy it.
     
  4. Human Again

    Human Again Silver Meritorious Patron

    :spitcoffee: for your M1 on the roof!

    :drama: Looking forward to moar
     
  5. sallydannce

    sallydannce Gold Meritorious Patron

    Thanks Scooter.

    :drama:
     
  6. FoTi

    FoTi Crusader

    Loved your M1 on the roof. Too bad they didn't let you continue. Sounds like the perfect auditing environment :)

    What were the neighbors or OSA so upset about with you guys on the roof?

    By the way, what's a singlet?

    Looking forward to your next episode. :drama:
     
  7. scooter

    scooter Gold Meritorious Patron

    Apparently "someone" was upset by seeing people do Op Pro by Dup on the roof and then when we sat up there with an e-meter and stacks of dictionaries they complained again - I don't know any more than that.

    A singlet is usually an undergarment with straps rather than sleeves for holding it up over the shoulders. Dyed blue, they are a popular work shirt for Ozzies doing hot jobs like shearing sheep, digging holes etc.. Also known as "wife-beaters," they are a lot less popular these days except with young guys who are trying too hard to be macho, hence the latter term for them.
     
  8. Megalomaniac

    Megalomaniac Silver Meritorious Patron

    Yeah, that'd be the Ideal Org!

    I like clearing words, too!

    I think using a dictionary is under-emphasized in the non-Scientology world. Too bad it's micro-managed with hyper-penalties in Scientology.

    Love your story, Scooter!
     
  9. Alan

    Alan Gold Meritorious Patron

    Wonderful posts scooter :)

    Alan
     
  10. cantsay

    cantsay Patron Meritorious

    Welcome to Aussie language 101.

    You might be thinking of the words "gook", or perhaps "chocko" (nasty racial insults). Chooks on the other hand, are the feathered cluckers that lay cackleberries (aka bum-nuts). You dont want chooks from Asia tho, they might have the bird-boogers (avian flu).
     
  11. Zinjifar

    Zinjifar Silver Meritorious Sponsor

    There's always 'chinks', although, that's not specifically Ozzie. Ozzie lingo seems to depend on which wave of immigrants are showing up. Now it's asians, not too long ago it was eastern europeans, and, they, god love em, got tagged as 'wogs' :)

    Zinj
     
  12. GreyLensman

    GreyLensman Silver Meritorious Patron

    Great story so far. Thank you for taking the time. Your current life sounds wonderful, glad you made it through. I remember VIVIDLY suping and watching a successful co-audit broken up by a reg cycle. More!
     
  13. Dulloldfart

    Dulloldfart Squirrel Extraordinaire

    It was a joke, a combination of "chink" and "gook."

    Paul
     
  14. Human Again

    Human Again Silver Meritorious Patron

    [​IMG]
     
  15. cantsay

    cantsay Patron Meritorious

    God bless the internet - its so hard to tell sometimes is someone is joking or not...
     
  16. Dulloldfart

    Dulloldfart Squirrel Extraordinaire

    Well, I don't help with that much. Sometimes I mark the jokes and sometimes I don't, and if people think I really believe what I just said....

    I don't worry too much about being thought of as weird. If everything I said was exactly understood precisely as I meant it I would still be considered weird by many, so why bother? :)

    But if it is important I am careful to state clearly if it is a joke or not.

    Paul
     
  17. FoTi

    FoTi Crusader

    Nice

    Thanks HA. That's a very attractive singlet! :coolwink:
     
    Last edited: Feb 23, 2009
  18. Human Again

    Human Again Silver Meritorious Patron

    Had a feeling you'd get a little more "definition" from the photo.
    :giggle:
     
  19. scooter

    scooter Gold Meritorious Patron

    Here's the next BIG chunk for y'all :D

    Our word-clearer turned out to be in Australia illegally and wasn’t even using his real name. I alerted my seniors but nothing was done so I alerted OSA. I couldn’t believe that Hubbard’s “The Way To Happiness” states clearly not to do anything illegal yet my seniors were all for keeping this guy on even though it could get the Church into lots of trouble should it be found out. I liked the guy and didn’t want to see him go but I didn’t want Scientology, The Only Hope for Mankind, gotten into any sort of trouble. I’d crossed the line but didn’t know it – my group was now more important than anything else in my life, including friendships. I was now willing to do almost anything to see Scientology succeed.

    Hubbard had also written a series of books (actually one big story) which he called Mission Earth. It was released (largely after his death) firstly in the US and then in Australia about six months later for each of the ten volumes. I bought the first volume when it came out in Australia then found out that there was a Scientologist airline pilot buying copies in the US and bringing them out to Oz as soon as it was each volume was released – several of us began to get these “hot off the press” volumes and they would be passed around like treasured manuscripts. The story detailed an earth run by the Rockefellers and it must’ve been true that they were funding psychiatry because Hubbard said so in Mission Earth. There were many other references in them to the gigantic conspiracy that Hubbard obviously believed was running (and ruining) Earth – and we true believers went along with it. He also included some more of his sci-fi technology that we believed would be found and made work that would handle all this planet’s problems. Everything would be solved when Scientology finally conquered all – we had all the answers.

    There was one disquieting note in all of this. The International Association of Scientologists had been formed a few years earlier and it’s purpose was to safeguard our religion per its charted. A guy from the US called Kennedy Lee came to Sydney shortly after this as the IAS Registrar and he’d run several events where he and other (sometimes from OSA) gave us all a speil about how bad things were going “out there in the wog world” and what campaigns the IAS had to “handle” this and then we’d get held there until lots of money was gotten – no-one could just walk out of these.

    I gave what small amount of money I had and others gave hundreds or even thousand of dollars – we were assured that this was going to defending us from evil people trying to bankrupt Scientology by lawsuits or psychs trying to prevent us from undoing their evil plans for planetary domination. A few months after arriving, Ken Lee told me and a few others that he’d been in LA when the order had come to go to the LRH “funeral” event and he’d initially thought that LRH had been arrested and that that was what this whole big “you all have to go to this event as it’s the most important thing ever” was all about.

    He said that there’d been a law passed in the US called the RICO Act that meant that anyone charged under it – say a drug dealer – wouldn’t be able to use their own money to fund their defence as any funds thought to have been gotten illegally in some way would be frozen. He had been told that LRH was one of the targets of this law when it had been put through the US Congress and he was expecting that we all would be called to donate to LRH’s legal defence. This was something that sat with me for a long time, especially when I heard that Ken blew not too long afterwards and was living in suburban Sydney with a “wog” girlfriend he’d met at a disco one night and was now having nothing to do with Scientology any more.

    The guy I’d been sharing a house with was sent to the International Training Organization (ITO) in LA for some high-powered executive training so I had to find alternate housemates and transport – the bus trip to the city took over two hours and then a fifteen minute walk to the org. The pair of brothers who moved in had some rather wild parties there and I lost a fair bit of sleep on the weekends. I got my revenge one Sunday morning – I’d been feeding the local lorikeets (a sort of parrot) every morning and this morning I put out so much food that the front verandah was host to over a hundred of brightly coloured and very noisy birds fighting over food. The look on my housemates’ faces when this din forced them to look through the window at all this gave me immense satisfaction at the time.

    I struggled along with this scene of hours of commuting etc. (or even hitch-hiking home if I missed the last bus – sometimes I’d walk for several hours through the nearby National Park and get home after dawn!) for a while on unemployment benefits but finally got some temporary work in the inner city. I couldn’t commute to there each day so I moved back to my parents’ house in suburban Sydney. I was back to commuting by train to work and the org every day of the week.

    There was this thing called “The Birthday Game” that we would all play to get our stats up. It basically awarded so many points for up statistics and the more upstat, the more points. Statistics that were down got no points. Each org in the world played this every week. We played against the other orgs in Australia and New Zealand. It went from Ron’s Birthday week each year (in March) to the next Ron’s Birthday. The prize if we won was to have an afternoon off to go play footy and have a barbeque somewhere. We of course had to make sure that our posts were covered. For several years in this time, Sydney Foundation won the Birthday Game and we happily had our March afternoon at the beach or a national park. Usually there was a trip to the movies that night as well. Then even this bit of joy got cancelled for some reason – no-one ever satisfactorily explained it to me.

    It was around this time that the Academy had had one of its periodic “crashes” and I was pulled into a small room with the executives for a “severe reality adjustment.” These consisted of bullying, accusations of sabotage, yelling and screaming etc etc until one was suitably contrite that one had dared to “crash’ the stats and was now willing to fix it all up by doing a whole lot of extra work in the org in one’s own time and then humiliatingly take a write-up of all of this around to each staff member asking if it were now OK to be a member of the group again. If senior executives decided you hadn’t done enough, then you had to do more extra work. Until they were satisfied.

    This particular time an OT who’d trained at Flag grabbed me and said “You’ve got four PC folders and you haven’t attested to Clear and you ought to really think about that” and then left. Basically saying that I didn’t make gains from auditing so obviously I must be Suppressive as most people at that time were attesting to Clear within one or two folders’ worth of auditing. The other executives sitting there just looked on - to them, right now I was just a piece of dogshit that they had to clean up so that I’d function for them again. From that point on, my contempt for these people was such I swore I’d never help them again unless forced to. I’d still work, I’d still do my bit for the planet but I wouldn’t (to use a good aussie expression) cross the road to piss on them if they were on fire. Sadly I didn’t stick to this.

    I was working for another staff member who was an electrician and I was amazed at how shoddy he was as a tradesman and how much he just didn’t give a damn about the quality of his work. I tried to get him “handled” on this as he was also telling every customer he was a Scientologist and bragging about how great it was while ripping them off with shoddy work. Nothing ever came of it.

    I found some more cleaning work for a while and then got work fixing roofs. It paid well and I was out in the sun all day (which I loved.) I never seemed to get enough sleep but I had money and a car again! My parents were a bit less apprehensive about me now that I actually had money in my pocket and could afford to buy things most other people already owned.

    In either 85 or 86 I became ordained officially as a Minister of the Church at an Auditor’s Day event. I’d bought myself a minister’s shirt and collar and borrowed one of my Dad’s suits and bought my own silver scientology cross. I was the only one of six or so people being ordained who had their own – the rest were “borrowed” from the org’s Bookstore and has been marked on the back with felt pen which org had “loaned” them for the occasion. The event was held in Kings Cross – the historical red-light district of Sydney. I had to walk past street drunks and prostitutes to get to and from the event and was amazed at the courtesy shown to me when they realized I was a “Man of the Cloth.”

    I was also getting some auditing from the org. I had finally started my Drug Rundown and had been left in the middle of it for a while when I went out for the night with a friend, his girlfriend and her sister. I had a Heiniken which tasted fantastic – I hadn’t had one since I’d visited the factory in Holland many years previously – so I had another. Then another. The funny part was I didn’t get the usual befuddlement I’d normally gotten from drinking and I didn’t have the urge to drink lots as quickly as I could like I’d always done. I actually enjoyed the sensations of it but didn’t like losing control of my body. I was quite drunk at the end of the night but only physically drunk. I could still talk and think and see that I was unsteady on my feet and being a bit of a goose at times – for the first time with alcohol, I had a measure of control. I still woke with a bit of a hangover but I felt I’d made a major breakthrough.

    I told my auditor the next day and she quizzed me for a bit and then decided it was all OK as I’d planned to drink a bit beforehand and hadn’t gone overboard. She arranged to get me back into session in the next week and we finished my drug Rundown off.

    Now that I had money, I was able to buy auditing at the AO upstairs. I was taken to the registrar and worked over. I was convinced to go for a loan with a bank branch on the outskirts of Sydney that was doing a lot of deals for Scientologists and coached basically on lying on the loan application. The money came through and I had my Clear Certainty Rundown and attested to the State of Clear. I felt moderately good at this – I’d expected a bigger win than I got but was so happy to be now able to finally do my OT Levels that I didn’t bother saying anything about it.

    I was in the reg office one day and was being treated like I wasn’t really there by the wife of the then Deputy Captain and one of the reges (whose husband was the word-clearer I think.) They were discussing ditching their husbands when they got a bit older and getting younger men – interesting discussion from two members of the “most ethical group on the planet.” As usual, I just held my silence and ignored them – I’d heard all sorts of craziness from Sea Org members before and learnt to ignore it. They had no “mystique” in my view any more. Funnily enough the girl whose hubbie was the word-clearer left not long after with the Ethics Officer – they’d obviously had something going on.

    As a staff member, I was eligible for free service at the AO if our org had sent them enough paying customers. I couldn’t get any of this and got quite upset when I saw other staff (some who’d only been on staff a year or two) getting access to this free service but I couldn’t. Basically it came down to I could pay for it and they couldn’t. Yet another example of the whole “money is God” philosophy that ran the orgs. Eventually I was given (begrudgingly I might add) one OT level for free but even that was opposed by several high-placed executives – both of whom I had constant battles with over their treatment of my area.


    I continued to fix roofs all this time during the day and run the courseroom at night so it was a huge juggling act to also fit in some auditing or study during the day. Something had to give and it was the roofing – I spent less and less time at it and earned less and less. I was just scrapping by financially and wouldn’t have survived at all if I’d not been living cheaply with my parents. I’d borrowed more money and wasn’t going to be able to really pay it off until I went back to working a lot more during the day – staff pay was (as usual) next to nothing.

    I got violently ill one night but wasn’t allowed to leave my post and wound up vomiting convulsively in the toilets on and off the whole night. I had to keep running the courseroom no matter what pr my senior – “no case on post” was the exact Hubbard quote. I couldn’t stop vomiting all the way home in the car – having to stop, retch, then drive some more until the next wave came. It was considered something that sometimes happened doing OT levels.

    Finally came the day when I got onto the fabled OT III confidential material. I’d done all the drills in the non-confidential part after successfully getting through the first two OT levels OK. The course sup hung around the table where I was studying with a lunatic grin on his face – this was the holy of holies for every Scientologist. I opened the pack and began to read the copy of Hubbard’s notes in his own handwriting.

    I read it through and thought “OK, what else, is this it?” and the look on the course sup.s face told me it was IT. Several things were obviously wrong with it but I thought that I’d wait and see what happened when I started auditing it – after all, Hubbard was always correct in the past and he may well be right here and a whole bunch of “wog” scientists be incorrect. I just didn’t know. I held my disbelief in suspension, put on a relatively happy face and continued with the pack of materials.

    I won’t go into the details of it all – it’s all been put onto the internet so many times that anyone can get hold of their own copies for free and see for themselves. For me personally, I had some major changes for the better from running this level. The idea of other beings possessing the same body as you has been around for a long time and getting into communication with these beings and assisting them to go off and live their own lives seemed very therapeutic for them and for me. I spent many afternoons in auditing rooms looking for, finding and then handling these other beings. Unlike I was instructed in my materials, I didn’t just order them around – I treated them with courtesy and good manners and found that most responded very well to this. They weren’t “degraded beings” as I was told but each had their own stories and loves and hates and I loved the communication I had with each. I felt a bit lost when it seemed that they’d all left and I could attest to completion of OT III. But now I could go back to getting the money I needed to paying off the thousands of dollars debt I was now in. My staff contract was nearly up and I’d had a gutful of the hypocrisy displayed by my seniors and the Sea Org management – I couldn’t wait to just go earn money and get somewhere. I was still going to be a Scientologist but damned if I was going to continue being a poor one.

    A guy named Paul Schobel arrived back from the states. Paul had been an auditor for Sydney Day and Foundation when I’d first joined staff and I’d had a few run-ins with him at first but soon learnt he had a wicked sense of humour and was a great guy to have around. He’d been in the SO then and had since gone “up lines” and had come back as the ANZO RTC rep. he had a job to bet a Senior Case Supervisor to Flag for training from each org in ANZO and the first few he’d tried from Syd F had turned him down flat. He succeeded with me and he convinced me I’d have my own office on the roof, be free of executive interference and generally be able to be a very effective part of expanding Scientology in Sydney while making enough money to live on. I bought it. Visions of having my own small greenhouse outside my office with my orchid collection in it, working as the top C/S for the org and doing nothing but helping people all day, no constant berating from seniors, being trained at the best org on the planet – a huge machine of hundreds of dedicated staff just turning out thousands of satisfied customers every year. Schobs agreed with every bit of this and then some. And he was so much more senior than anyone else in the country that it would all have to come off.

    Only problem was that my org wasn’t earning the money to be able to afford my airfare. No problem says Schobs – get the public to donate towards your airfare. So I did – went around and convinced all my students and friends on staff to put some money towards my plane ticket. Within a few days I had my airfare paid for by bypassing some now pissed off executives. I got my passport renewed, got my visa for the US and got some new clothes by going shopping with an ex who worked for a mens’ clothes store. Even went to Bondi Beach for a final surf.

    Wrote up my hat and turned it over to the other course Sup in the Academy. Made sure that everything was going to be all right with him when I left. Had everything all ready to go and said goodbye to everyone I knew and waited.

    The big day came and I arrived at the airport and said farewell to my parents and got on a plane bound first for Hawaii and then LA. I boarded the plane with Shane Brockdorf from the AO – he was also going for Senior C/S training. It seemed like a big adventure had begun.
     
  20. Zinjifar

    Zinjifar Silver Meritorious Sponsor

    Love the Big Chunks; Moar!

    Zinj