Musings from the Back Porch of Eternity
Scientology, Gods, and Emily Post
Everything’s Cool, Just Hang in There
If some god whisked me away from Earth, granted me eternal life and ridiculous powers, I would still come back and visit my friends. Or I’d at least drop ’em a note. Tell ’em I was okay. “Good roads, good weather,” right?
If you believe in L. Ron Hubbard’s blueprint of the universe, that he dropped his worn out body so he could tend to Target Two and clear more planets, and if you believe he was cause over matter, energy, space, and time—or at least pretty powerful—then wouldn’t you think he would take a few minutes from his busy schedule to let us peons here on Earth know that everything was going to plan and he had everything under control? Like “one hundred forty-five planets cleared; only sixty-eight to go!”
To a fully operating Thetan, time is arbitrary. Without the hindrance of an old, decrepit body, LRH could snap his spiritual fingers and appear on stage at the Fort Harrison Auditorium. In less than the blink of an eye, he could be addressing the faithful about what’s been happening in the Milky Way. What would be more inspirational to the flock than The Founder materializing out of thin air with a handful of just-off-the mimeo-machine HCOBs and PLs? Scientologists across the world would go wild and begin FSMing their little butts off, right?
Olly, Olly, Oxen Free!
Where is L. Ron Hubbard? What’s he doing that’s so important that he can’t message us? Drop us a card. Let us know what’s going on.
We know he didn’t pick up another body here on Earth. Had he chosen another bland one of those, he’d be thirty-two years old, running the church, and instead of releasing OT levels 9 and 10, followers would be drooling at the impending release of numbers 20 and 21. Drones would be obsolute; our bodies would be true temples for the first time in history, and making an ashtray rise off a chair would be simpler than tying our shoes.
Why don’t gods and lesser deities venture down from the clouds these days? What happened to make them turn down the lights, drop the curtain, and hide backstage? Back in the good old days, they used to attend all the ribbon cuttings of every shrine, church, and synagogue our slaves built for them. They’d ply the crowd with wine, straighten a few legs, and heal the sick before calling it a day with a burst of lightning bolts. The buffet tables were amazing, right? So what happened?
Why don’t gods return home periodically to let people know what’s going on? Join us for Thanksgiving? Share cookies and eggnog while opening presents on Christmas morning? Join Reverend Bob at the pulpit once a year with a few words of inspiration?
You’d think LRH would at least show up for the openings of Idle Orgs. If the guy was going to make an appearance, that would be the time, right? Say a few words, pass out a new creed, rule, or code. Address the faithful on the state of the galaxy. What would be more appropriate?
If It Was Up to Me…
If I went all supernatural and flew off to fight the bad guys, I would still come back and visit family and friends. If I was bitten by a radioactive spider and miraculously regained my original, “Before-the-beginning-there-was-a-Cause,” superpowers, I would still hang out and talk with my brothers on the back patio. After I was done, I’d cancel my nephew’s student loan, cure Aunt Angus of her cancer, and feed the hungry. If I was feeling especially generous, I might even whip up a couple of Admin Scales for the United Nations on how to end war and reverse global warming. Like why not?
In The Code of Honor, LRH wrote, “1. Never desert a comrade in need, danger or in trouble. 2. Never withdraw allegiance once granted. 3. Never desert a group to which you owe your support.”
And yet if you’re a believer, he violated all three. He left. He deserted mankind. Not only did this messiah, this self-proclaimed reincarnation of Buddha, skip town without leaving a forwarding address, he didn’t tell anyone when he’d be back. He didn’t even say goodbye! Like a real goodbye. Like one posted on Facebook.
Still not Declared,