THE ART OF HANDLING THETANS

by Ray



Unlike large numbers of people who have been invited off the street to take this famous personality test of theirs, I have only good and happy memories of my short excursion into Hubbardland. It was all in all an instructive and rewarding experience with considerable entertainment value.

The whole thing began in what I have recently learnt is the usual way. I was walking along Strøget in Copenhagen in my own little dream world minding my own business, when I found myself confronted by a friendly young man who asked whether I would like to take a free personality test. Well, having a few hours to kill before resuming my journey southwards to more sunny climes, and being generally curious by nature, I of course said yes.

Having completed the test I was ushered politely into a pleasant office to be inteviewed by a young lady who fairly radiated confidence and competence, and a concern for me as a person, expressed partly by her worried frown as she perused my test results. These were presented in the form of a graph. My graph, she explained, was most abnormal.

"Do you use drugs?" she asked in a concerned motherly tone. The word she used was "narkotika" which literally translated means narcotics.

"What exactly do you mean by narcotics? Do you mean intoxicants, substances that are proscribed by law, or substances that literally cause narcosis, which is, after all, the original meaning of the word?" I asked politely rather than informing her in no uncertain terms that I don't make a habit of bothering to answer this kind of question from total strangers.

I must admit that she was beginning to interest me and I was curious to see what all this was about.

"I mean drugs!" Her tone now held a tinge of reproof.

"Well, I drink beer. That's an intoxicant."

"I mean drugs!" Her tone was impatient now and seemed to contain the threat that mother would shortly withdraw her affection if I didn't become a little more co-operative.

"Well," I said very politely, "You'll have to define a little more exactly what you mean by the word if you want me to understand the question."

"Do you use drugs?" Her tone conveyed the message that I must be an idiot if I didn't understand what she meant (which she was refusing to tell me). We seemed to be having something of a communication problem which I felt was not entirely attributable to the differences between our respective languages (Norwegian and Danish) which are generally more or less mutually intelligible.

"I drink beer." I was extemely polite, and also very firm. This is often the best policy when confronted by this kind of repetitious badgering.

My interviewer looked at me for a moment, and then, presumably having decided to abandon this line of questioning, held up my graph.

"Most people have a graph like this." She traced a nice smooth curve across the paper with her finger. "But yours is different." She followed my horrendously jagged personality profile with her finger tip. "This is not good."

I waited, politely expectant, for her to continue.

"Your problem is that you are easily led."

I thought about this for a moment. I didn't actually feel particularly easy to lead, I decided, but perhaps she would have something to tell me I didn't know.

Having allowed her point to sink in, she continued, "Do you want to be activator or activated?"

This was a bit cryptic, and I quite honestly didn't get her drift, so I asked her politely to explain exactly what she meant.

"Do you want people to activate you, or do you want to activate them?"

"Well." I hesitated, considering this rather either-or view of things. "Does one have to go around activating people to avoid being activated by them?"

"Yes." She was very decisive about this. I had to admit that she had in fact just told me something I had never known before.

"I'm not certain that I agree. As far as I know I activate myself and other people do the same for themselves."

"It isn't that simple!" Again she was extremely decisive. This was interesting since it had always seemed that way to me.



"Do I have the right to activate people? Isn't it their job and their right to activate themselves? You'd be taking a hell of a responsibility if you went around activating people, wouldn't you?"

"Only for their own good!"



Now she was really beginning to interest me. Her logic was fascinating: To avoid being activated by people, which would be bad for me, I had to activate them, which would be good for them. (Quite apart from the fact that statements like "for their own good" have a tendency to stimulate my anti-authority neurosis and trigger off the little alarm bells.) This was becoming interestinger and interestinger, and I was becoming curiouser and curiouser about exactly who these people were. I was just about to find out.

"Now." She fixed me with her gaze. "What you need is this book!" She held it up.

I leant forward and examined it. Large, cheerfully coloured letters on the front identified it: DIANETICS, by L. RON HUBBARD.

Although I didn't know a great deal about this L. Ron Hubbard, I did know that he had written a book called Dianetics and had founded something called Scientology. I had also heard somewhere or other that Scientologists practiced dianetics and attended courses for the purpose of becoming what they called "clear", which I had heard was a mental state allowing the individual to realize his or her "true potential".

This was all very impressive if somewhat vague, but I had no particular plans to add superfluous literature to the weight of my already full backpack. Even less did I have any intention of paying money for the pleasure of carting the works of this Hubbard all the way to Spain.

"I see," I said helpfully, and waited for her to continue.

"It will help you."

"Well," I said slowly and politely, "I came here for a free personality test, not to buy a book."

"But you need it!"

"Oh?" I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging look and waited.

"Yes!" She was looking at me rather intensely. I continued to give her what I hoped was an encouraging look.

"It will enable you to be less easy to lead."

"By reading this book one can learn to be activator rather than activated?"

"Yes!"

"And you've read it?"

"Yes!"

"And it really works? You recommend it?"

"Oh yes!" Her tone was becoming quite enthusiastic. She seemed to be on the hook. Good.

"Hubbard," I said thoughtfully. I paused, making it clear by my manner that I was thinking. "He founded the Scientology Movement, didn't he? I've heard you have courses to help people develop their potential. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"And they help you to be activator rather than activated?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Have you been on any of them? Are they good?"

"Oh yes, yes. Absolutely." Now she really had the bit between her teeth.

"Well." I was now very interested and made no secret of it. This seemed to make her very happy. "This test of yours is reliable?"

"Yes, completely."

"Well, in that case...."I let it hang for a couple of seconds just to increase the suspense. "If I am as easy to lead as your test says, and if these courses you have attended to become activator are as good as you say, then it should be no problem for you to sell me that book." I leant forward with the air of a neophite hanging reverently on the words of the High Priest. "How does this happen? Please show me."

Please note that my tone was not challenging or skeptical. It was begging. I was quite honest, too. I was positvely beside myself with curiousity about what arcane and esoteric methods she was going to use to push this book on me, and was begging to be shown. (i.e. I had made clear my interest in the alleged impressive results of scientological studies and my acceptance of what I had chosen to regard as the offer of a free demonstration.) I leant back and waited expectantly.

She blinked, looked at me somewhat blankly, then blinked again. I waited expectantly.

She looked at her desktop and blinked at that. This didn't look partcularly encouraging, but I waited expectantly.

Her next move was to place her elbows on the desktop, fold her hands together and start rocking her body backwards and forwards. She finally stopped rocking and started staring at me intensely. What she hoped to achieve by this was unclear.

I felt it was time to give her som encouragement and guidance.

"Dear Lady." My tone was extremely patient and sympathetic. "You have to give me a sales pitch, you know. You aren't going to sell me anything by just looking at me and clamming up."

She frowned, and kept frowning for a while. Then, to my astonishment, she blew herself up like a frog, pointed at the door and screamed hysterically, "UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!!" (This translates roughly as "Get the fuck out of here! Get out!")

I rose politely while she glared at me balefully, quivering and looking very apoplectic. Having opened the door preparatory to leaving, I addressed her again.

"But Dear Lady." My tone was full of fatherly concern. "You aren't going to activate me into buying anything by throwing me out of your office. Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven't been ripped off?"

That really did it! She shot to her feet like a champagne cork, hunched her shoulders, withdrew her head like a turtle, stamped on the floor and, gesticulating hysterically in the direction of the door with her index finger, her whole arm and her whole body, emitted an even more ear-splitting "UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!! U-U-U-D!!!"

Out of concern for her observably imminent heart attack I withdrew.

Once more out on the paving stones of Strøget I looked around for the friendly young man who had approached me with a view to thanking him for a most edifying and entertaining experience. Disappointingly he was nowhere to be seen.

I shook my head to clear the slight ringing in the ears resulting from my recent exposure to more decibels than are generally regarded as acceptable, conjecturing that whatever her courses had done for her marketing abilities and communication skills, they certainly hadn't damaged her voice box. I made for the nearest bar.

Having activated the bartender to hand over a beer, which in turn activated me to hand over the price of it, which transaction seemed to make us both reasonably happy, I sat down to evaluate my latest encounter with human behaviour.



After some rumination I came to the conclusion that either



a) scientological studies were not entirely beneficial to the human psyche, and that claims to the contrary were spurious, or

b) they were beneficial and had done my interviewer a lot of good, which implied that she had been an unusually hopeless case to start with.



Months after this episode and after my return from Sunny Spain to Snowy Norway, my friend Lotte told me how someone selling subscriptions to the respected Oslo newspaper Aftenposten had rung her doorbell.

"It was really rather unpleasant," she explained, "It seemed to my job to explain to him why I didn't want to buy a subscription rather than his job to explain why I should want to."

Her description of her experience prompted me to tell her of my Copenhagen Thetan and what one can do in this kind of situation. I added that it had given me a slightly bad conscience because it hadn't really been my intention to wind her up as much as I had

"Why?" asked Lotte, "Perhaps you made her think so she could get herself out of that shit."

"Well," I remarked half humorously and half seriously, "In that case I suppose we could say that I had activated her for her own good, couldn't we?"



My Copenhagen Thetan had been playing what I call "Virkelighetsleken" (The Reality Game). Her (perception of) reality was that I had to get her to understand that I didn't want the book or I would have to buy it. My (perception of) reality was that she had to get me to understand that I wanted it or she would have to keep it.

In this particular situation, where she had no actual practical power, she could only mobilize her reality with my consent. I, on the other hand, could mobilize my reality without her consent. After all, my actions (buying books or anything else) are directed more by what I understand than what someone else can be bothered to understand (of course with the proviso that they have no practical power to apply sanctions).

We often have a tendency to fall into the trap of trying to get someone like this to understand something. This a waste of time and energy. It's a wrestling match with a sack of potatoes. Avoid it. Nothing happens except that you get tired. In this situation allow the enemy to come to you. Allow him to get tired if he feels like it (Moltke etc.).

One of the things that can cause us to fall into the trap of debating matters with this kind of person is our built-in desire to communicate with our fellow humans (which works fine with courteous, honest people) combined with the manipulative implication in the situation that it would be impolite to say no. (Don't go along with this one. A polite "no thank you" is not impolite.)

One correct strategy in this situation is to give way on all points except the salient one. Remember that your enemy's intermediate aim is not necessarily coincident with his final aim. Napoleon took Moscow, but that didn't give him the food and shelter he was seeking after the Russians had burnt the city to the ground. In this case: "Yes, your test is reliable if you say so," and "Yes, your courses are good if you say so." does not coincide with "Yes, I want to buy your book." Allowing your enemy to occupy tactically useless positions is giving him an opportunity to waste his resources, and he may get out on a limb and bogged down, as she did. Musashi has told us, "Treat your enemy as an honoured guest." Yes, invite him in, into a tactical vacuum or a swamp if you can. In this case: Invite her to make grandiose claims about the quality of her courses. Then invite her to demonstrate. Do this very politely. She is an honoured guest.

The implication that saying no is impolite is fairly simple to deal with. Say no, and say it extra, extra politely.

One of the best moments to mount a counter attack is when your enemy has managed to get bogged down in front of your position. In this case: "Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven't been ripped off?" seemed to do the trick.

I must admit to having been rather nonplussed by the vehemence of her reaction, but now, having found out how much these courses can cost, I realize what kind of raw nerve I might have been treading on. Also, having discovered that the term "clam" seems to be a term used derogatorily by upper echelon Thetans to refer to lower echelon Thetans, I wonder whether the expression "clamming up" might have been a little unfortunate.

The Norwegian expression I used translates literally as "being silent as an oyster". Not knowing what the Danish is for clam (in the Thetan sense), I can't say whether this hit anything or not. My dictionary doesn't help me since the distinction between various bivalves, oysters, clams and mussels, seems diffuse.



What follows below are the comments to Ray's story by ex-scientologist Steve Fishman, author of "Lonesome Squirrel:"

Unlike large numbers of people who have been invited off the street to take this famous personality test of theirs, I have only good and happy memories of my short excursion into Hubbardland. It was all in all an instructive and rewarding experience with considerable entertainment value.

The whole thing began in what I have recently learnt is the usual way. I was walking along Strøget in Copenhagen in my own little dream world minding my own business, when I found myself confronted by a friendly young man who asked whether I would like to take a free personality test. Well, having a few hours to kill before resuming my journey southwards to more sunny climes, and being generally curious by nature, I of course said yes.



That could have been your biggest mistake if you had been gullible and had been enticed into this cult!



Having completed the test I was ushered politely into a pleasant office to be inteviewed by a young lady who fairly radiated confidence and competence, and a concern for me as a person, expressed partly by her worried frown as she perused my test results. These were presented in the form of a graph. My graph, she explained, was most abnormal.



That is what they tell everybody, because they cannot afford to allow anyone to say that they are too "normal" for Scientology.



"Do you use drugs?" she asked in a concerned motherly tone. The word she used was "narkotika" which literally translated means narcotics.



She was trying to prepare you for a registration cycle for the Purification Rundown, a "sweat" program done in the cult's sauna, with large toxic doses of niacin (which often causes people to go into shock).

"What exactly do you mean by narcotics? Do you mean intoxicants, substances that are proscribed by law, or substances that literally cause narcosis, which is, after all, the original meaning of the word?" I asked politely rather than informing her in no uncertain terms that I don't make a habit of bothering to answer this kind of question from total strangers.

I must admit that she was beginning to interest me and I was curious to see what all this was about.



They always try to hire registrars who are attractive. The women especially are so, in order to entice the men.



"I mean drugs!" Her tone now held a tinge of reproof.



"Well, I drink beer. That's an intoxicant."



"I mean drugs!" Her tone was impatient now and seemed to contain the threat that mother would shortly withdraw her affection if I didn't become a little more co-operative.



Exactly so.



"Well," I said very politely, "You'll have to define a little more exactly what you mean by the word if you want me to understand the question."

"Do you use drugs?" Her tone conveyed the message that I must be an idiot if I didn't understand what she meant (which she was refusing to tell me). We seemed to be having something of a communication problem which I felt was not entirely attributable to the differences between our respective languages (Norwegian and Danish) which are generally more or less mutually intelligible.



She was looking for you to admit to a generalization, not a specific item. In this way, she would cultivate your obedience.



"I drink beer." I was extemely polite, and also very firm. This is often the best policy when confronted by this kind of repetitious badgering.

My interviewer looked at me for a moment, and then, presumably having decided to abandon this line of questioning, held up my graph.



When you did not respond to her repetitive process (called 8C), she was required by the Tech to abandon the line of questioning, in order to avoid an upset, or "ARC Break", which is a break in affinity, reality and communication.



"Most people have a graph like this." She traced a nice smooth curve across the paper with her finger. "But yours is different." She followed my horrendously jagged personality profile with her finger tip. "This is not good."



Be aware that she tells ALL people that their graphs are bad or abnormal. So her statement that "most people have a graph like this" is a lie.



I waited, politely expectant, for her to continue.



"Your problem is that you are easily led."



In Scientology, this is the making of a very obedient candidate. She gave you that answer in order to see how much you were in agreement with it.



I thought about this for a moment. I didn't actually feel particularly easy to lead, I decided, but perhaps she would have something to tell me I didn't know.



That was what she wanted you to be thinking.



Having allowed her point to sink in, she continued, "Do you want to be activator or activated?"



She was qualifying you as to your acceptance level of "control." Scientology requires obedience and looks for people who can be easily controlled by supervisors.



This was a bit cryptic, and I quite honestly didn't get her drift, so I asked her politely to explain exactly what she meant.



"Do you want people to activate you, or do you want to activate them?"



"Well." I hesitated, considering this rather either-or view of things. "Does one have to go around activating people to avoid being activated by them?"

"Yes." She was very decisive about this. I had to admit that she had in fact just told me something I had never known before.



Not in the real world, they don't. But in Scientology, it is essential for the system to continue to work.



"I'm not certain that I agree. As far as I know I activate myself and other people do the same for themselves."

"It isn't that simple!" Again she was extremely decisive. This was interesting since it had always seemed that way to me.

"Do I have the right to activate people? Isn't it their job and their right to activate themselves? You'd be taking a hell of a responsibility if you went around activating people, wouldn't you?"

"Only for their own good!" Now she was really beginning to interest me.



The premise is that "we can control you but it is for your own good and it is what you really need" is what she was trying to communicate to you here.



Her logic was fascinating: To avoid being activated by people, which would be bad for me, I had to activate them, which would be good for them. (Quite apart from the fact that statements like "for their own good" have a tendency to stimulate my anti-authority neurosis and trigger off the little alarm bells.) This was becoming interestinger and interestinger, and I was becoming curiouser and curiouser about exactly who these people were. I was just about to find out.



It is good that you have more resistance to authority. L. Ron Hubbard put "conformists" in the same characterization as perverts and criminals in one lecture wherein he said that Earth was a "prison planet", inhabited by undesirables of various types, including the above three.



"Now." She fixed me with her gaze. "What you need is this book!"



She held it up.



The sales pitch now comes into it for Dianetics.....



I leaned forward and examined it. Large, cheerfully coloured letters on the front identified it: DIANETICS, by L. RON HUBBARD. Although I didn't know a great deal about this L. Ron Hubbard, I did know that he had written a book called Dianetics and had founded something called Scientology. I had also heard somewhere or other that Scientologists practiced Dianetics and attended courses for the purpose of becoming what they called "clear", which I had heard was a mental state allowing the individual to realize his or her "true potential".



This was all very impressive if somewhat vague, but I had no particular plans to add superfluous literature to the weight of my already full backpack. Even less did I have any intention of paying money for the pleasure of carting the works of this Hubbard all the way to Spain.



It's a lousy book, poorly written. "A History of Man" was certainly a much better book that Hubbard wrote, as ludicrous as it was also.



"I see," I said helpfully, and waited for her to continue.



"It will help you."

"Well," I said slowly and politely, "I came here for a free personality test, not to buy a book."



Now that's a GOOD ANSWER! That should be posted on alt.religion.scientology!



"But you need it!"

"Oh?" I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging look and waited.



"Yes!" She was looking at me rather intensely. I continued to give her what I hoped was an encouraging look.

"It will enable you to be less easy to lead."

"By reading this book one can learn to be activator rather than activated?"

"Yes!"



Not true. Dianetics puts you much more at the effect of the cult, not at cause over it.



"And you've read it?"



"Yes!"

"And it really works? You recommend it?"



"Oh yes!" Her tone was becoming quite enthusiastic. She seemed to be on the hook. Good.



Yes, she felt she was closer to selling you something!



"Hubbard," I said thoughtfully. I paused, making it clear by my manner that I was thinking. "He founded the Scientology Movement, didn't he?



Which is much less useful than a Bowel Movement.



"I've heard you have courses to help people develop their potential. Is that right?"



"Yes, that's right."

"And they help you to be activator rather than activated?"

"Yes, that's right."



Well, here you were both obviously playing with each other.



"Have you been on any of them? Are they good?"

"Oh yes, yes. Absolutely." Now she really had the bit between her teeth.

"Well." I was now very interested and made no secret of it. This seemed to make her very happy. "This test of yours is reliable?"

"Yes, completely."



She also lies a lot. In actual fact, the test has very little validity because it is mostly subject to arbitrary interpretation by the examiner (the way the cult uses it, anyway).



"Well, in that case...."I let it hang for a couple of seconds just to increase the suspense. "If I am as easy to lead as your test says, and if these courses you have attended to become activator are as good as you say, then it should be no problem for you to sell me that book." I leant forward with the air of a neophite hanging reverently on the words of the High Priest. "How does this happen? Please show me."



<snip>

She frowned, and kept frowning for a while. Then, to my astonishment, she blew herself up like a frog, pointed at the door and screamed hysterically, "UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!!" (This translates roughly as "Get the fuck out of here! Get out!")



An admission that she lost. Wonderful!



I rose politely while she glared at me balefully, quivering and looking very apoplectic. Having opened the door preparatory to leaving, I addressed her again.



"But Dear Lady." My tone was full of fatherly concern. "You aren't going to activate me into buying anything by throwing me out of your office. Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven't been ripped off?"



Certainly she learned nothing about communication from them.



That really did it!



She shot to her feet like a champagne cork, hunched her shoulders, withdrew her head like a turtle, stamped on the floor and, gesticulating hysterically in the direction of the door with her index finger, her whole arm and her whole body, emitted an even more ear-splitting "UD FOR FAEN!!! UD!!! U-U-U-D!!!"



Out of concern for her observably imminent heart attack I withdrew.

Once more out on the paving stones of Strøget I looked around for the friendly young man who had approached me with a view to thanking him for a most edifying and entertaining experience.



Disappointingly he was nowhere to be seen.



I shook my head to clear the slight ringing in the ears resulting from my recent exposure to more decibels than are generally regarded as acceptable, conjecturing that whatever her courses had done for her marketing abilities and communication skills, they certainly hadn't damaged her voice box. I made for the nearest bar.



Good choice, considering what you went through.



Having activated the bartender to hand over a beer, which in turn activated me to hand over the price of it, which transaction seemed to make us both reasonably happy, I sat down to evaluate my latest encounter with human behavior.



After some rumination I came to the conclusion that either



a) Scientological studies were not entirely beneficial to the human psyche, and that claims to the contrary were spurious, or

b) they were beneficial and had done my interviewer a lot of good, which implied that she had been an unusually hopeless case to start with.



Actually you crashed her stats. Quite often a registrar will not have even enough money for food to eat if she does not produce enough. So, she will have to be even more hostile and forceful with her next victim. Scientology is a chain of exploitation and victimization. Staff victimizers are victims themselves of their superiors in the "food chain" of cult subjugation.



Months after this episode and after my return from Sunny Spain to Snowy Norway, my friend Lotte told me how someone selling subscriptions to the respected Oslo newspaper Aftenposten had rung her doorbell.



"It was really rather unpleasant," she explained, "It seemed to my job to explain to him why I didn't want to buy a subscription rather than his job to explain why I should want to."

Her description of her experience prompted me to tell her of my Copenhagen Thetan and what one can do in this kind of situation. I added that it had given me a slightly bad conscience because it hadn't really been my intention to wind her up as much as I had.



It comes naturally when one is backed into a corner by an uncompromising registrar from a cult.



"Why?" asked Lotte, "Perhaps you made her think so she could get herself out of that shit."



No, they suppress thoughts of leaving until something unbearable happens to them personally that causes them to snap.



"Well," I remarked half humorously and half seriously, "In that case I suppose we could say that I had activated her for her own good, couldn't we?"



My Copenhagen Thetan had been playing what I call "Virkelighetsleken" (The Reality Game). Her (perception of) reality was that I had to get her to understand that I didn't want the book or I would have to buy it. My (perception of) reality was that she had to get me to understand that I wanted it or she would have to keep it.



In this particular situation, where she had no actual practical power, she could only mobilize her reality with my consent. I, on the other hand, could mobilize my reality without her consent. After all, my actions (buying books or anything else) are directed more by what I understand than what someone else can be bothered to understand (of course with the proviso that they have no practical power to apply sanctions).



We often have a tendency to fall into the trap of trying to get someone like this to understand something. This a waste of time and energy.



It's a wrestling match with a sack of potatoes. Avoid it. Nothing happens except that you get tired. In this situation allow the enemy to come to you. Allow him to get tired if he feels like it (Moltke etc.).



One of the things that can cause us to fall into the trap of debating matters with this kind of person is our built-in desire to communicate with our fellow humans (which works fine with courteous, honest people) combined with the manipulative implication in the situation that it would be impolite to say no. (Don't go along with this one. A polite "no thank you" is not impolite.)



One correct strategy in this situation is to give way on all points except the salient one. Remember that your enemy's intermediate aim is not necessarily coincident with his final aim. Napoleon took Moscow, but that didn't give him the food and shelter he was seeking after the Russians had burnt the city to the ground. In this case: "Yes, your test is reliable if you say so," and "Yes, your courses are good if you say so." does not coincide with "Yes, I want to buy your book."



Good point.



Allowing your enemy to occupy tactically useless positions is giving him an opportunity to waste his resources, and he may get out on a limb and bogged down, as she did.



Musashi has told us, "Treat your enemy as an honoured guest." Yes, invite him in, into a tactical vacuum or a swamp if you can. In this case: Invite her to make grandiose claims about the quality of her courses. Then invite her to demonstrate. Do this very politely. She is an honored guest.



The implication that saying no is impolite is fairly simple to deal with. Say no, and say it extra, extra politely.



One of the best moments to mount a counter attack is when your enemy has managed to get bogged down in front of your position. In this case: "Have you paid money for these courses? Are you sure you haven't been ripped off?" seemed to do the trick.



The courses did her no good, and you proved it.



I must admit to having been rather nonplussed by the vehemence of her reaction, but now, having found out how much these courses can cost, I realize what kind of raw nerve I might have been treading on.



Also, having discovered that the term "clam" seems to be a term used derogatorily by upper echelon Thetans to refer to lower echelon Thetans, I wonder whether the expression "clamming up" might have been a little unfortunate.



Actually, Scientologists do not use the word "clam" to describe non-Scientologists. The word they use is "wog." "Clam" is a term which is used on the critics' newsgroup alt.religion.scientology to characterize Scientologists. It comes from a chapter in Hubbard's book "A History of Man" where Hubbard described a lifetime of man's evolution as a clam on the beach, having died by being dried up by the sun.



The Norwegian expression I used translates literally as "being silent as an oyster". Not knowing what the Danish is for clam (in the Thetan sense), I can't say whether this hit anything or not. My dictionary doesn't help me since the distinction between various bivalves, oysters, clams and mussels, seems diffuse.



I enjoyed your account of the registrar experience. I believe it will be of interest to those reading alt.religion.scientology.

