What Really Happened in INCOMM – Part 2

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dang_357
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What Really Happened in INCOMM – Part 2

Post by dang_357 » Mon Nov 24, 2003 12:39 am

- The Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre -

“What Really Happened in INCOMM – Part 1” revealed the internal events leading up to the virtual disappearance of INCOMM personnel for several months. A confidential report from OSA Investigations Aide Linda Hamel’s computer files had turned up on alt.religion.scientology, posted by someone calling himself -AB-. An investigation headed by RTC executive Warren McShane identified -AB- as Tom Rummelhart, a night computer operator in INCOMM, who was security checked and then quietly sent far away.

“Mission accomplished. Finally, we could go home and get some sleep. Except I couldn't. I had been two weeks or more full time on this, and the clock was still ticking on my real project, the overhaul of the OSA Computer System. Also, I had to put together a proposal for making the OSA computers utterly impervious and secure. Fortunately, my non-SO associate had continued to work away while I was off catching spies. A couple early mornings later, I was sitting in my office behind INCOMM reception, trying to stay awake after having worked all night. It was February 14th, Valentine's Day. In walked ...”

In walked Susan Bolstadt, with a woman I didn’t recognize. I hadn’t seen Susan for years – didn’t realize she was still in the Sea Org. She had been my boss briefly in 1983, while I was getting busted off the Western U.S. Programs Chief post. After we exchanged surprised “Hello’s,” Susan asked me what I was doing there. I told her, and wondered the same thing about her. She asked me to follow her.

We went toward the interior of INCOMM. The door, always before locked tight, stood wide open. That explained it. There had been a serious security breach from within INCOMM, so an ethics mission had been sent down to handle the internal out-ethics in INCOMM and make sure that such a situation could never recur.

This is normal procedure, and I’d been through it many times in other settings. At the higher levels, whenever someone important blows (suddenly disappears without authorization) or turns out to have been involved in seriously out-ethics activity, there is at least an investigation, if not a mission. The assumptions are, first, that the person had to have been exhibiting “indicators” (clues indicating underlying out-ethics), and, second, that the only way the other personnel could have missed noticing these indicators was that they were blinded by their own out-ethics situations. Both these assumptions are firmly based in fundamental Hubbard policy and “technology”; therefore, they are infallible. Everyone has to do O/W write-ups, the top execs and those most closely involved are sec checked, and often the entire org is assigned an ethics condition below Non-Existence. It’s always unpleasant, but if can show that your own statistics are “up” (rising), you are automatically exempted from individually applying the lower condition.

All this flashed through my sleep-deprived brain in the instant I saw the open door. I realized that Susan and her cohort were just collecting up everybody they found in the org. Since I wasn’t part of INCOMM, I shouldn’t be involved; I hoped I could convince Susan – then I saw Warren McShane by the opening. Oh, good! He knew everything. He would straighten them out and I could get back to work. Susan had me wait behind while she went over to McShane and talked with him a bit. I saw him nod “yes.” Oh – well, probably just a formality. I’d get a briefing or something with the rest of them, because I was in on the deal, and then they’d send me away. They wouldn’t let a lower echelon fellow like me see the burning brimstone rain down upon INCOMM. I felt sorry for them, but, well, they *had* missed what Rummelhart was doing.

As we walked in I shot a cheery (if bleary), “Hi, sir!” to McShane. He nodded and gave me one of those warm, friendly, honest smiles that Scientologists, actors, and politicians are so good at. That convinced me. Nothing to worry about.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Thirty seconds later I walked in to a huge, linoleum-floored room with dozens of people standing in two long rows. One row was males, the other females. There were a few people standing around them in missionaire uniforms. Nobody explained anything; nobody said a word, except a missionaire who gave me a manila envelope and told me to write my name on it, empty my pockets into it, and put my pager in as well. I complied. He sealed the envelope and put it on a row of tables covered with similar envelopes. He told me to spread my feet and hold my arms out, and he frisked me. Then he went over me with a metal-detecting wand. Satisfied, he sent me to stand in the male line.

We just stood there. After a while, somebody else was brought in. This was a woman I had seen and spoken to a few times. She was also non-INCOMM staff, working in the same non-cleared wing as I. She had to empty her pockets. She was taken off to a private room, undoubtedly to be frisked and “wanded” by a female missionaire. Then she joined the female line. This went on for a while. Mostly we all just stood there silently. Every so often a new person was brought in, de-pocketed, detected, and deposited in either of the lines.

After half an hour or an hour, a new missionaire walked in. The male frisker barked, “Atten-TION!” We complied. This was Liz Ingber, a Sea Org officer and a senior executive who, as far as I know, has been one since the Apollo days. I was impressed. There aren’t many Hubbard-and-Apollo-minted top execs left. The ones that didn’t blow mostly got busted or found unqualified and are on lower posts or in lower orgs. Even RTC executives, though they have more power, do not have the eminence of someone like “Mr. Ingber.” (In the Sea Org, officers are “mister” and “sir,” whether male or female.)

She ordered everyone to our side of the room, so she wouldn’t be between the two lines. She began: “You’re all assigned a condition of Confusion. You allowed an SP to infiltrate INCOMM.” (“Confusion” is the lowest ethics condition in Scientology, worse than Enemy and Treason.) She went on about how suppressive we all were for ignoring this threat which could have wiped out Scientology entirely and was requiring enormous senior executive intervention to protect mankind’s only hope. Obviously, we did not care if SPs destroyed the Church, and just as obviously, this meant we had massive crimes of our own. The mission was going to find them and find out who else among us were working for the enemy. “You’re all under house arrest. You’re not to leave the base. You’re not to leave INCOMM.” And so on. She never did say who the “SP” was or what he had actually done, which was to defend Scientology, however misguidedly, by posting a PI report that bolstered the Church’s claims.

If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have been angry. Instead, I was bewildered and on the verge of insane cackling. This wasn’t happening! It couldn’t be! There must be some misunderstanding … There must be some kind of mistake … The Phil Collins song started playing inside my head, over and over and over. It was the sound track to my Nightmare on Fountain Street. I kept biting my tongue to stay alert and keep from breaking out into hysterics. After Ingber’s speech, the non-INCOMM personnel were collected separately so the security guards (that’s who the friskers and watchers were) could ask us who we were and what org we worked for. Some of them I didn’t know either. They came to a young chap with an English accent and asked his name. “Phil Collins, sir.” “There must be some misunderstanding … woo-oo-oo … There must be some kind of mistake ….” At that point I nearly did break out laughing. I wondered if this was what it felt like to be insane … I didn’t feel insane, I didn’t feel any different at all, just tired, but that was just too much. It was impossible to believe! Well, on the bright side, if I really was crazy, they’d have to let me go and all this would be over. (Little did I know what had happened to Lisa McPherson just a few weeks before.)

It wasn’t until several days later that I learned the kid had actually said, in his thick Mancunian accent, “Phil Collinson.”

Well. The preliminaries ended, and it was time for us to start applying the ethics conditions. I still had the fond notion that I’d be out of there in a few days, so the thing to do to hasten my release was get busy with the program. The formula for Confusion is “Find out where you are.” You have to do a locational on the area you’re in, then compare it to other areas where you’ve been, and then do another locational on your present area. A locational is a type of simple Scientology processing in which the auditor points at something and tells the pc or pre-OT to look at it, then does same thing with something else, and so on. There’s no e-meter, and they walk around. It’s pretty informal. People “twin up” and do the process on each other. It doesn’t require any training; just read how to do it and do it. But it *is* auditing, and the auditor’s code applies – it’s a serious offense to audit someone who hasn’t had enough sleep. I told one of the security guards I’d been up all night and asked if I could go get some sleep so I could do the Confusion locationals. He said nope, just do it. I complied. My “twin,” a kid named Don, and I walked around this huge, nearly bare, underground room full of people, pointing out things, or having them pointed out and looking at them.

After my Confusion formula write-up was approved by the mission, I got to work on Treason, then Enemy, then Doubt. In those, you’re just supposed to have some realizations and make decisions and write stuff down. That was good. I could sit down, facing the wall, and sort of prop my head up and think about what to write. And if I occasionally dozed off for a few minutes, nobody who cared noticed. Later on we were fed, still in the same room. In the beginning, we spent nearly all our waking hours in that room.

Early that first day, everybody’s pagers, in the envelopes, started beeping. Mine fired off a few minutes after I missed morning muster in OSA Int. I told the head security guard that I needed to respond to the pages, even if it was to tell the Director of Inspections and Reports of OSA Int why I wasn’t in and couldn’t come in. The reply? Nope. Let it beep. And so they beeped, in their sealed envelopes, for hours and hours until they were finally all carried away. I never saw mine, nor any of my pocket-contents, again until a few days before I was released.

I don’t know if it was that day or the next that they started putting us to work. On my first job, several of us were taken to an ordinary public storage facility in Burbank. My jaw hit the ground. *This* was where INCOMM had been storing all the backups and archive tapes from – forever! With nothing but a flimsy padlock between our top security materials and the world’s SPs! There were two large units. One was filled wall to wall and floor to ceiling with tapes, and the other was getting there. Of course, they were enormous tapes that held very little data, even by the standards of the day. I estimate that the whole mess would have fit on 1,000 CD-ROMs. But it wasn’t, and we had to get it out of there. Even OSA records were stored there. Under the watchful eyes of our guards, who could see every twist in the hall and every person, we chain-relayed the boxes till we had an elevator full, then chained them out into a rental truck. We did this over and over until the units were empty. We went back to INCOMM, and the truck went … elsewhere. Of course, I never learned where that was. I would guess it was to the INCOMM facility at “Int” (the Gold base).

That was swell for my Liability condition, though, the next one above Doubt, because as required it was an “effective blow against the enemies of the group,” the enemy being “out-security.” It’s tough to find flesh-and-blood enemies of Scientology when you’re stuck inside a room full of Sea Org members. Unfortunately, that night or the next I almost let something into the trash that should have been shredded, so I had to start all over again at Treason, since “OUT-SECURITY = TREASON” in the Sea Org according to a Flag Order by Hubbard.

Fine. Not fine, but, well, shit happens. Mostly it would be just more writing, writing, writing, and I’d have to think up a new “enemy” to deliver an effective blow against. Speaking of writing, the next thing we had to do when we were not working on ethics conditions or just plain working, was to write up our overts and withholds – O/W write-ups. That was always a good time-killer, and it didn’t look like anybody was getting loose without a sec check, and theoretically writing up your O/Ws would shorten your time in sec checking. Plus we were ordered to do it. I complied.

Later on my work took a number of forms, but one of the bigger jobs was to sit with a crew inside the generator hut (you can see it from Catalina Street, just south of the “Horseshoe” entrance to the Complex), destroying obsolete 14” WORM cartridges that had been used to store images of Data Files documents. We had to sand down the media to the reflective backing and obliterate it. That ate up several weeks. Other times we had to destroy hard drives by taking them apart and sanding all the magnetic media off the aluminum disks. Know something? You have never seen a strong magnet if you have not taken apart a modern hard drive and gotten at the magnets that control the read-write head movements. All other magnets are puny weaklings by comparison. I was playing with a pair of them and slipped – they came together so hard they sliced through part of my hand. And they were not sharp-edged! We also destroyed custom read-only chips, in case the enemy was thinking about duplicating the functionality of an INCOMM keyboard. You split the plastic package apart and file the tiny actual integrated circuit down to powdery oblivion. Or, if they won’t split, you file through the package till you get to the chip.

After the “de-kludge,” or clean-up and destruction of all the unneeded junk, I started working in a room adjoining the main one we spent most of our time in. This is the INCOMM Hardware room. People who weren’t INCOMM crew were moved in there to clean and repair all the hundreds of monitors, keyboards, and printers that had been piling up over the years. All of them needed cleaning, so that was part of the routine, but those of us who had some knowledge or aptitude with electronics and a soldering iron got to do the fun work of figuring out what was wrong and fixing it. As it turned out, the INCOMM personnel didn’t know much more about it than we did, which goes a long way toward explaining why they had so much equipment that didn’t work. So we were on our own. We fixed what we could, cannibalized what we couldn’t, and got a lot of equipment back into use. I ran across a book on digital electronics and taught myself about it, eventually designing an alarm circuit for the now-ex-CO of INCOMM.

Since the Hardware room didn’t open on any room except the main one, and there was nothing seriously confidential in it, there was no need to have a guard watching us every moment. We developed some good friendships and had some good times in there. I really learned a lot – including what 450 volts through your hand feels like – but it wasn’t because anybody was teaching us anything; it was because I had the time, and nothing else to do, and no place else I could go.

One day, the Mission I/C (In-Charge) walked in and started talking to one of my new friends, a guy of about thirty from Denmark. Obviously something “big” had come up during this guy’s sec check, and he felt he was no longer worthy of being a Sea Org member, so he should route out. He explained this to Liz Ingber. Did she acknowledge his remorse and remind him that the Sea Org needed him and that he could be redeemed? Not in the least. She simply told him that he had committed suppressive acts and that if he left the Sea Org it would be as a declared Suppressive Person and he could go join the Walking Dead who would never, ever, *ever* go OT. End of discussion. Out she marched. I didn’t and don’t know what his “big” overt was, but knowing what COS considers suppressive, it’s probably something like he falsified an auditing report and said a preclear felt better when it wasn’t so.

Early on, some key people were going in session for their sec checks, but most were continuing to work on their conditions and O/Ws. It was during this time that Liz Ingber walked in and berated one of the INCOMM staff, in front of everyone, for masturbating (see Sea Org’s Willie, posted three weeks ago). Another time, Susan Bolstadt made a general announcement: She had noticed that not many of us were OT III or above. This, she said, was an indicator that we were criminally out-ethics. Why? Because good Sea Org members should make themselves more valuable by going up the Bridge? No. It was because the fact that we were withholding ourselves from case gain proved that we had serious crimes – criminals subconsciously withhold themselves from becoming more able because then they’d be able to harm even more people.

Ooooo-kaaaayyyyy … I would have said it differently – you assholes at Int rip off all our best personnel and, with pointless and frantic micromanagement, keep the rest too busy to ever establish a staff auditing unit, so there’s nobody left to audit us, but anyway, Yes, Sir, Point Well Taken! In retrospect, of course, I am glad I never made it onto OT III.

I don’t even remember when it was that I finally started getting my own sec check. Since I wasn’t genuine INCOMM, they didn’t care how fast they got me finished and back onto post, and I was toward the end of the list. It was weeks after the mission’s arrival before I first went in to session. There’s not a great deal to say about what went on. I’d had many sec checks before then, and there wasn’t much special about this one. There did come a point when the auditor, Leslie Worstell, was sure she had caught me out on Something Big, and she wouldn’t quit badgering me till I said something that sounded like what she wanted to hear. The next day I was un-auditable – couldn’t go in session till she had done a “repair list” on her previous day’s mauling, correcting the false confession she had forced me into. This was all confirmed on the meter and she was satisfied I hadn’t lied. Nevertheless, the report she’d written on my “confession” remained in my ethics folder, whereas the correction never went there at all, and probably still hasn’t. Not that I’d care now, but if you’re still a COS member, I suggest you demand to see your ethics folders (they have to show them to you by their own policy) so you can see what lies are in it that you don’t even know about.

Days turned into weeks turned into months. My sec check finished; I had to re-start ethics conditions several times, particularly after some RTC exec rejected my Liability formula on a fundamental point after nearly everyone else had signed it. Most of the RTC personnel no longer spent much time in INCOMM, leaving just the regular missionaires. However, they had introduced a new feature into the ethics conditions. Whereas in a normal Liability Condition you need to get the written permission of a majority of your group (org, usually) to be allowed to rejoin it, *this* liability required the signature of *every single* missionaire and *every single* RTC member involved, as well as the signature of everyone in INCOMM who was already upgraded from Liability. There is no such stipulation anywhere by Hubbard, and it was exceedingly “squirrel” (off source and illegal) of them, especially as “the sole guarantors of standard tech,” to add this arbitrary requirement.

If you’ve been in Scientology very long, or on staff for even a while, you’ve probably been assigned Liability or lower and worked your way through it. You know what it takes: After delivering the “effective blow” to the enemies and making amends to the good guys (which essentially means losing a lot of sleep if you’re on staff), you type up your formula, make a bunch of copies, and pass it out to all the staff, You have a list. They read it, and mostly they sign it, and when you have a majority, you’re done. If a few don’t like it or just hate your guts, it’s no big deal. Majority rules, and they want you back anyway to get their own stats up.

This was not like that. In the first place, there was no typing. Typewriters no longer existed, and computers were forbidden to us untrustworthy criminals. Everything was handwritten, with or without carbon paper. I think we did manage to get access to the org’s photocopier for the liability formulas, so not everything had to be handwritten several times. But the RTC personnel were hardly ever around anymore, so it was tough to even give them a copy, and if they didn’t read it right then, you never knew when you’d get it back or when you’d even see them again. You didn’t want to seem to uppity, so you didn’t bug them about it – and they forgot about it, or some did anyway, and it only took one. And, as it turned out, one of them really did hate my guts. Toni, formerly Jacobsen, formerly my friend when she was in OSA Int, whose new last name I forget, apparently had decided that I was just a piece of out-ethics crap for ever and ever. She’d hang on to my Liability for days or weeks and then send it back with a senseless rejection. I never did get her signature. The mission finally gave up too and released me without requiring it.

This was truly the liability formula from hell. It was not just my problem – everybody went through the same thing, except the part about being despised by Toni. Every time a new person got upgraded and went back to post in INCOMM, that became yet another person to get a signature from, in order to fulfill the new unanimous consent requirement. Not only that, they were no longer confined to our big room, so they became almost as hard to get signatures from as the RTC personnel. In the end, many if not most of us were there for close to four months. We worked, studied, and ate in the same room or rooms, and slept, under guard, in dormitories crammed with bunk beds and almost nothing else. We were watched or escorted to the shower rooms and back. We watched the March 13 and May 9 International Event videos inside INCOMM. We even completed courses inside INCOMM. Life, and death, went on without us. New York George’s Restaurant burned down. We could see the smoke from our room. Timothy McVeigh blew up the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City. We heard about it on the radio. My father died. I had to take the call from my sister with a security guard listening on the line in case I said or heard something I shouldn’t. Sometimes, in our sleeping room, I would just watch other Sea Org members from our window up on the fourth floor. I actually envied Sea Org members their freedom.

Finally, the mission got tired of hanging around. They brought in a couple New and Improved INCOMM Security Officers from Int, since “we” had messed it up so badly when left to ourselves. They started doing end-time things, tying up loose ends, helping contact derelict Liability formula signers, They put on a new CO INCOMM. People started “graduating” faster. On June 14, four months to the day after our imprisonment had begun, it was finally my turn. I was taken over to the CMO Int Extension Unit in the HGB. After a while, Liz Ingber came in to see me. She said “You know you won’t be returning to OSA, right?” I hadn’t known that. I’d thought it was a strong possibility. “Your crimes are your out-security and your other fish.” “Other fish” comes from a Hubbard Executive Directive in which he talks about Scientologists who have other fish to fry – in other words, who are in it for their own profit or interests or who aren’t dedicated enough. She said she didn’t know if I’d be able to rejoin OSA later, and told me I should start re-establishing an “ethics record,” meaning of course a good one, so I might later become qualified again for higher postings. Since I didn’t belong to INCOMM, she was going to remand me to OSA Int, and they would dispose of me as they saw fit. I was not to discuss anything that had happened or that I had learned, nor any of the handlings that had been done, with anyone, ever, period. Not even to OSA Int personnel or auditors. “It’s none of their business,” she told me.

I was taken to a room with Coordinating Attorney Bill Drescher in it. He gave me a bunch of paper to read. Lynn Farny came in and explained that what this amounted to was that I was starting over in my relationship with the Church. Whatever happened in the past was over for good, and now I was at ground zero with a new chance to make good. Drescher went over the documents with me and asked me, on video camera, if I understood them. I discussed it with him a bit, made a few minor corrections with his agreement, initialed all the pages, and signed the document, all on video. Of course, if I hadn’t, I would have been declared a Suppressive Person at once. Nobody had to tell me that. It had been made clear enough over the last four months. Jeannie Gavigan witnessed and notarized my signature.

Free at last! Well, free to go back to work, either in non-secure areas or under supervision. I did a lot of that before I finally left OSA, and some if it is rather interesting, but it’s not part of this story. I did have to get a “Leaving OSA Sec Check” before they could release me to the general population. Finally I was traded for somebody OSA wanted from PAC Renovations, and my new life began.

INCOMM has been decimated. I don’t think more than a dozen remained, and I can only think of seven. Two were sent to a Class V org because the wife was pregnant. Some left the Sea Org – I never knew if they chose to or were kicked out. Some went to what was then FCB, Flag Command Bureaux. Many were given to PAC Base Crew, the estates org, the dumping ground of the formerly qualified, the punishment detail for the terminally unfit.

But the rawest deal of all was reserved for about half a dozen. After four months of imprisonment and degradation, of busting their asses to get through an illegal and squirrel “ethics program” and finally succeeding – these miserable souls “graduated” – to the RPF.

Most Scientology executives are content to weld the barn door shut after the horse gets out. Not David Miscagive. Miscavige has to burn down the barn. (Thanks to Keith Henson for the latter half of that analogy.)

Well, Dave – burn away. We free horses are watching with interest.

Dan

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Post by fullofit » Mon Nov 24, 2003 1:18 am

I'm so sorry you had to go through anything so paranoid and psychotic. I thought I had some tough times, but now I can understand why others seemed like I got off easy...

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merlin
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Post by merlin » Mon Nov 24, 2003 6:17 am

Franz Kafka meets George Orwell. Greetings from the gulag. Welcome to Wonderland. Truth is stranger than fiction. Thanks Dan, for telling your story so eloquently. More!

So, these are the folks who were going to give us a world without insanity...

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Post by dang_357 » Mon Nov 24, 2003 11:21 am

"Franz Kafka meets George Orwell."

I love it!

Then again, if I hadn't gone through that, I might still be in the SO today. Viewed in that light, the experience was definitely worth it.

Dan

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Post by villageidiot » Mon Nov 24, 2003 12:54 pm

Good story dan,
Welcome to the real world.


:xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu:

Alfred Einstein

A free person

Enemy of capt. nutty and his enslaving religion

Laughing always at the nut cult

Overheard BT's talking. "When he moves three feet behind his head, grab him."

scios :violent: Alfred the horrible

:xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu: :xenu:

olska
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Post by olska » Mon Nov 24, 2003 6:16 pm

Great story, Dan. I hope you'll tell us more!

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Post by raised11th » Mon Nov 24, 2003 8:10 pm

Yes, Dan- interesting story and great writing.
What year was this?
People who do not know about scientology just would not believe this! That's why it's so important to have someone tell the stories.

Thanks, Dan!

raised 11th

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Post by pam » Mon Nov 24, 2003 9:00 pm

wonderful story, dan. where is part one? i looked for it in the achives to no avail. Also when di pt. 2 take place[approx.] ? thanks

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Post by dang_357 » Mon Nov 24, 2003 11:54 pm

This all happened in 1995. Part One I posted the week before so it's too recent to be in the archive. It's still under Opinions and Debate, here.

Dan

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Post by mikedewolf » Tue Nov 25, 2003 1:31 am

Dan:

My impression was that you didn't work directly with Tom Rummelhart, so how were you supposed to read his "indicators" and detect that he was out-ethics?

Was it your failure to read his indicators the couple of times you spoke with him (on the phone I presume)? Or of people you did work with who may have worked with Rummelhart? Their failure to read his indicators meant they had O/Ws and you failed to read their indicators? Where does it stop?

Mike
Mike de Wolf
"A science that depends on Authority alone is a breath in the wind of truth and is therefore no science at all." - L. Ron Hubbard

dang_357
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Post by dang_357 » Tue Nov 25, 2003 2:04 am

Mike,

You appear to be presuming that there was logic of some sort involved. Often there is. But when the capo gets a bad scare, it's scorched earth, baby, and take no prisoners.

You're making the mistake of being reasonable (which, by the way, is literally considered suppressive in Scientology). The sequence is *not*

1. Something bad happened.
2. Somebody did it.
3. Find out who.
4. Punish the guilty parties.

This is the sequence:

1. The boss is pissed/scared/cranky/having an episode.
2. Start shooting quick, before somebody shoots you.
3. This is why the shot people were guilty.
4. Continue shooting till the boss is happy again.

It's my understanding and belief that Miscavige ran this mission personally. Starkey (ED ASI) was also personally involved.

Dan

fullofit
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Post by fullofit » Tue Nov 25, 2003 3:28 am

Isn't there a PL that says something to the effect that you're always safe if you assume someone is an SP, that you may not always be right, but you're always safe?

Does anyone know what I'm talking about, or what that PL is?

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Post by hans » Tue Nov 25, 2003 5:02 am

Dan,

Excellent story. The truth is so much better than the fiction of Scientology. What simpletons they are to think they could tell people to keep this a secret. And what idiots, to get their shorts so twisted that they would go completely off the beam, over such a trivial thing as some do-gooder (Tom R) playing at rescue.

Your story reminds me of the description of Hitler and his inner circle, flushing out the conspirators. Of course people really did want to do away with that man. Maybe Stalin is the better comparison. Naw, all too serious and deadly, with the sad exception of Lisa MacPherson, among others. How about Monty Python!

In any event this is all a good sign, as the nut cases in Scientology management become terminally paranoid and reactive, to use their own phrase. You know it has to be getting worse in the Fuhrer bunker. Just so long as they don't mix up anything like a batch of Kool Aid for the faithful...
-Hans Hansen lives-

Elron Blubberhards Unauth
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Post by Elron Blubberhards Unauth » Tue Nov 25, 2003 6:49 am

I am currently engaged in a scientific study titled -

"A study of bi-polar psychotic beached whales who believe they are both Elron Blubberhard and David Miscavige simultaneously; treatment efficacies and modalities for crazed self aggrandizing pompous megalomaniac dilletantes"

I was wondering if any of you experienced with pompous overstuffed dilettante ethics whacks in the BTC (Brainwashing Technology Center) might also know who at the whaco cult would be good fodder for such a study?

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Post by mikedewolf » Tue Nov 25, 2003 6:55 am

Dan:

Another thought while reading this story is that once they found out the leak was from a Cal Tech alumni, why weren't the resumes or other records from the personal folder examined to see who went to Cal Tech? That seems easier than searching through years of yearbooks.

Ohh!!! Wog educations are irrelevent, so they don't bother with traditional resumes or other records of wog education & experience.

Another question I ask is this:

I can understand that someone who joined the Sea Org at 18 and has no experience in the real world putting up with this thinking that the outside world is even more abberated. I can also understand educated people with good careers flying to Flag for time by the pool and an auditing ego-boost. But how do people with computer science degrees who were capable of earning large salaries in the private sector (and no doubt knew it) put up with that kind of abuse?

And what became of Tom Rummelhart? Did he eventually leave the RPF and get a job in some corporate IT department where he belongs?

Oh, thanks for the story. Detailed inside stories are fascinating to me.

Mike
Mike de Wolf
"A science that depends on Authority alone is a breath in the wind of truth and is therefore no science at all." - L. Ron Hubbard

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