Recently, Scientology has risen into the public consciousness as it is wont to do. It seems that this curiously seductive philosophy has become fashionable once more. Tom Cruise, Sonny Bono, and many other superficial Hollywood people have sworn allegiance to this mutant bastard child of science, religion, psychology and good-old fashioned madness, and now I guess you should too. Historically, Scientology is somewhat interesting. It was founded in 1952 by L. Ron Hubbard, who was mostly known at the time for being a mediocre science fiction author, as an alternative to psychiatry. Hubbard believed psychiatry to be “barbaric and corrupt”, according to his writings, and basically stated that his theory was superior to psychiatry.
The next year, he clarified its purpose, calling it “an applied religious philosophy” when he deigned to be interviewed on the subject and beginning his long climb to the peak of Mount Weird. The faithful followers claim that Scientology cures disease, alcoholism, learning disabilities and any other form of mental illness.
The main key to curing what ails you, according to Scientology, is to give more money to the church and thus get closer to, well, something, possibly God. At the upper levels people will pay $60,000 to advance to the next “circle” and beyond a certain point it becomes so mysterious that it gives me a stabbing headache.
Out of a misguided attempt to be fair to this faith I once attended a scientologist conversion party in Union Square, San Francisco, hoping to get absolutely slathered with enlightenment. Instead, I received a mediocre massage from a man in a Battlefield Earth t-shirt who tried to sell me pamphlets on self-healing using the mystical teachings of a man who is basically a second-rate Robert Heinlein. At this point I excused myself rapidly, feeling betrayed and slightly dirty. This snake-oil new age sweaty festival of fervent determination and cheap sentimentality – it was the faith of the stars? Surely not you, Mr. Cruise, whom I look up to so much!
But, oh yes, it’s true – the rich are different than us. They have more money, but apparently they also have a sense of drooling credulity that makes a two-toed sloth look like Penn and Teller.
Look at the lists of their faithful and you’ll get what I mean. Prominent Scientologists include Kirstie Alley, William S. Burroughs (who later turned on them like a rabid rat), Jenna Elfman, musician Beck Hansen (yes, that Beck), Isaac Hayes, Charles Manson, Juliette Lewis, Van Morrison, Jon Travolta, Sharon Stone, Patrick Swayze, and Lisa Marie Presley. As you can see, this list includes a lot of shining stars who are also, to put it delicately, somewhat dim bulbs. Anyone who pays hundreds of thousands of dollars to be enlightened the same way that Tom Cruise is enlightened has lost my intellectual respect.
Now, out of a sense of Journalistic Duty I did read Battlefield: Earth some time ago. I will confess that Mr. Hubbard has a certain reptilian grace to his writing that makes him moderately more readable than, say, Tolstoy, but his overall mediocrity makes his work unremarkable except for the fact that this man somehow is now revered as a living god.
Hats off to thee, Mr. Hubbard, you’ve pulled the biggest and best confidence scheme since chlorophyll toothpaste and the Whacky Wall Walker. Apparently the sacred truth of your religion can only be seen by those with money-colored glasses. I’ll take the low road to heaven.