For most of my life, I’ve struggled to connect with my spiritual side, but I think my nihilistic days are finally behind me, because I’ve discovered Scientology. After watching HBO’s ‘Going Clear’ documentary, I feel like I’ve finally found a legitimate tax-exempt religion that isn’t a manipulative self-help scheme borne out of greed and megalomania. Like many other Scientologists, I was skeptical at first to put my faith into Scientology leader David Miscavige — and not just because his last name looks like a typo and his appearance is reminiscent of a movie villain who would chase you down a mountainside on skis (he just looks like the kind of diabolical man who looks his best in winter clothing). Converting to Scientology may seem like an unlikely choice for me, since a lot of you know me to be a rational person with a precise acumen for spotting bullshit, but what I love about Scientology is that it doesn’t have to make sense, enrich your life, or provide a source of comfort.
I’ve never told anyone this before because I thought it sounded kind of crazy (like my idea to create a subversive Pinterest-esque website for criminals to share their DIY techniques for breaking the law), but I’ve always had this feeling that many people are inside of me; I always suspected that these people were frozen, dropped into a volcano, and changed into disembodied spirits. After poring through the religious texts of Christianity, Buddhism, and Islam, I could find no explanation for this phenomenon, but then I discovered The Xenu Story of Scientology. After years of uncertainty, I could finally explain why I felt the way I felt: A galactic despot was to blame for those thetans within me. It all made so much sense.
Fervent zealots have always seemed unbalanced — maybe even a bit crazy, not to put things indelicately — but when I saw that video of Tom Cruise talking about Scientology, I found the level-headed endorsement that I needed to finally start taking religion seriously. I didn’t want to be part of a community of mindless worshippers; I needed a church where I could rub elbows with Kirstie Alley, Elisabeth Moss, John Travolta, and many more.
There are a lot of troubling reports out there about Dianetics (which isn’t a book with techniques about how to be more like Princess Diana as I once thought) author L. Ron Hubbard kidnapping his daughter and Scientologists being abused and signing billion-year contracts, but when you think about some of the scandals that have plagued other religions, that stuff is par for the course. Frankly, I don’t want to be part of any church that doesn’t have a history of using intimidation tactics to keep its followers or doesn’t boast a long list of human rights violations. Think about it. Wouldn’t you question any religion that exists only to worship and celebrate the belief in a higher power and give meaning and structure to people’s lives? Seems pretty disingenuous if you ask me.
So, I’m afraid this is goodbye. Like any normal religion that encourages critical thinking and coming to terms with your own faith, Scientology requires that I disconnect from any and all Potential Trouble Sources (PTS) — a confusing, technical term that refers to people who might be a source of trouble — and Suppressive Persons (SP), which includes Nicole Kidman and Katie Holmes. I’m sorry ladies, but this is where our friendship must end. I’m a little nervous to begin the auditing process, but I hope you all can understand that Scientology is really going to help me, and if nothing else, I’ll finally have a place where I can dump all of my income.
Images: CALUMET412; Giphy
