That Scientology is fun is one of those things that’s so obvious and normal to those who actually know and practice it that it almost goes without saying. But my last blog on the subject seems to have struck a chord with readers, so I thought I would do a follow-up and use a little contrast.
Exhibit A: Mike Rinder. For anyone unfamiliar with “Sleepy Mike” Rinder, he’s the guy who plays Leah Remini’s version of Igor the faithful assistant in A&E’s show where Remini plays the modern version of “Scarlett the Southern Belle” with her small clan of rebels talking about how mean the Yankees are for freeing the slaves (“Why, Yankees are not gentlemen!”).
“Sleepy Mike” earned his moniker when, as a Church of Scientology staff member, he had perfected a system of getting his underlings to do all of his work while he took naps, then took the credit. Anyway, Sleepy Mike’s system was so good that he worked his way up the ladder until his incompetence became so glaring, and annoying to coworkers that he, umm, “felt it was time to leave” (“Buh-bye now!”). Now he makes a living by using his special talent and getting other people to grouse about the people he harmed. A classic Shakespearean scenario.
In truth, Rinder and Remini have been there. They know Scientology works.
The funny thing about critics like Sleepy Mike is they attempt to issue the proclamation that I’m not having fun at all as a Scientologist, when I could have sworn I was enjoying myself thoroughly! Damn... I have a great family I love, vacations, hobbies, goals to pursue, a religion I can enjoy—the whole nine yards. But according to people like Sleepy Mike I’m really quite miserable. Now I can’t find the bottom of my shock and disappointment. Not only that, I’m going to have to convince my friends that they’re also miserable. As soon as Jeff gets back from his cabin on the lake, camping and boating with his kids and grandkids, I’ll drop the bomb on him. Then I’ll let Bob, Dale, Larry, Max know that the music and art they enjoy is really because of their depthless sorrow. All the happy, busy and interested Scientologists I know. So many people. So little time. The job I have ahead of me is daunting, but I’m up for the challenge. My relief at knowing I’m actually miserable is palpable. Thanks, Sleepy Mike!
You see, this is a lot like the old quip about the two guys out on a nice spring day. One says “It’s not a nice day at all.” The other one says “Sorry. I thought it was.”
In truth, Rinder and Remini have been there. They know Scientology works. It improves people—their vivacity, happiness and well being. They’ve seen it for themselves. Admitting it would be financial suicide, but they do know it.
Evidently Sleepy Mike’s alternative to Scientology is to spend one’s life being a self-righteous cynic, pointing a finger at everything “wrong” which one could possibly pretend to find anywhere. Of course all that will accomplish is to lose one’s mind and, along the way, become an insufferable bore.
There is not one critic that ever lived who has created any happiness, let alone fun.
L. Ron Hubbard in his technical bulletin “Psychosis, More About,” revealed the key to why individuals and societies get suckered into losing their minds, and as a consequence, have no fun at all. They get sold on the idea that finding and stopping everything “wrong” will make everything right. But what actually happens is that they keep finding more things wrong until (in their mind) everything is wrong. This is why psychiatrists have such high suicide rates. Their world is full of wrong things they can’t stop, with no avenue to create things that are right. If you want to lose your own mind, just follow the news 24/7, engage in every political argument, watch A&E, etc. Just make sure you do, see and hear nothing right, creative or productive. You’ll be a depressed, angry, flaming nutjob in no time!
So, keep it up, Sleepy Mike and Co. You’ll find yourself speeding down the Prozac highway, straight to the loony bin where you can spend the rest of your life getting your brain zapped, drooling down your shirtfront and wearing diapers to bed.
L. Ron Hubbard was quite succinct in stating “we are interested in a science which returns motion and action to existence.” Well, grousing, debating, complaining, faultfinding are not only not fun, they aren’t living. Action is fun. Action is living. There is not one critic that ever lived who has created any happiness, let alone fun.
These guys can try to insult Mr. Hubbard all they want. But I’m still waiting for the day when any of his critics actually outperform him in a single one of the myriad fields in which he excelled, discovering truths he evolved into technologies which, in just a few decades, have made millions happier, more fulfilled and allowed them to really live life.
I suspect I’ll have a long wait.