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From: Dave Bird---St Hippo of Augustine dave@xemu.demon.co.uk
Subject: Re: Flying Picket report, London -- 1st November.
Date: Tue, 4 Nov 1997
Hiyas. I just happened to be in London around the Kings Cross Road / Euston Road area with some time on my hands this afternoon before heading out of town. First I popped in KC post office to mail some stuff. Then I thought I'd take a walk along westwards, just past Euston Square and south down Tottenham Court Road, while wearing my nice "STOP $cientology (\) from ruining lives" tee shirt with the crossed out clam on the front. I was wondering if they'd come out and play if I turned up and sang them a song. I needn't have worried. Eight or ten clams were spread out all along in front of the Org and up to the neighboring Goodge St underground station. At one end of the Org stood a black space cadet in a blue blazer. Next to him a bodyrouter with a clipboard was talking to someone, maybe a trainee maybe a punter. " 'ere, you don't want to join that, mate," I enjoined, "it's $cientology, it's very expensive and it's all a load of nonsense." I burst into a quick chorus of.....
XEMU LOVES ME THIS I KNOW,
high above the volcano,
thaytans all to him belong, Hubbard's weak but Xenu's strong:
Yes, Xemu loves me! Yes, Xemu loves me! Yes, Xemu loves me,
my BT's told me so.
They really seemed nonplussed about how to deal with one little SP. I marched up and down them like a general inspecting his troops. "What's this," I said, "Sea org or old school." i peered at the badge on his blazer from about 2 inches away. "Petty Officer; yes, very good". "Nah, it's rubbish, bin it, they just want your money" I said to a punter given a leaflet. He binned it. I started walking back north.
"What's it about, then," said a guy walking up the same way. "Oh, it's a cult called $cientology, they want lots of money off you and tell you MAD STUFF ABOUT SPACE ALIENS". This for the benefit of the clams by the tube station as we drew past -- and another chorus of XEMU Loves You.
I drew past the last clam and stopped, looking at his clipboard and film tickets. "What's this then -- is it free, can I have one?" "Yes it is". So I did (not being a clamhead I would dream of taking their materials without asking and being given permission).
"What's it about---does it tell me about Xemu?"
"Who's Xemu?"
"Don't you know...It's in a level called Operating Thetan Three.
You know about OT3 don't you?"
"I've heard of it" (doubtfully)
"Yes, where the space emperor called Xemu brought a load of aliens here, stacks them round volcanoes, and blew them up with HBombs. And now their ghosts are called body thetans, you've got them haunting them you -- you've got dead space aliens all over your body, and you have to exorcise them."
I peer and point at the sleeve of his jumper, as if I can see a particularly big and juice one there. He googgles at me, fish-eyed as an enturbulated turbot and quite unable to handle me. The space cadet comes up and takes him by the arm. "Ah yes, the captain's come here to tell you not to listen to me. I should look up O.T.3 when you get back to the Org, though."
I walked back north and caught the train home.
All in all I wasn't there more than 3 or 4 minutes, but rattled the hell out of the whole bunch of them. There will no doubt be tears before bedtime, and at least one person will blow. That they had EVERYBODY out front with Sea Org supervision means they are downstat and being pressed hard to improve. When there is a hit and run like this, they have raw recruits out on the street and vulnerable to any voice of truth. The point is not just the five minutes spent there, but the effect on morale when ANY five minutes of any day might get a sudden S.P. visit.
