L. Ron Hubbard's Small Catechism

Or what it would say if it existed.

When I lived in Springfield, Virginia, I'd encounter these folks every time I'd visit the Springfield Mall. They had (and at last report, still have) a table there, at which they give "stress tests" to unwary passers by- and try to use the "results" to "hook" them into their bizarre belief system.

A friend of mine, when he passes by, habitually points out to these visitors that they are being manipulated by a cult. The members of the cult do not like this. Neither does my friend's fiancee, who is familiar with the cult's fondness for suing people who criticize it.

During one period of time a while back when my schedule permitted, I fell into the habit of watching re-runs of the sometimes brilliant TV series Millennium, on late night TV. It was a great series during its first season- spooky, dramatic, thoughtful, and occasionally even funny. It made some plot changes which I did not consider an improvement in its second season, and destroyed itself with the direction it took in its third. Still, even during that disasterous third and final season, this series (which, like the original Star Trek, I first discovered in re-runs) was often well worth watching indeed.

One of its better episodes was a crossover from The X-Files called Jose Chung's Doomsday Defense, in which a writer- played by the late Charles Nelson Reilly- wrote a book about a group clearly modeled on the Scientologists.

It was great. If you ever have a chance to see that episode, grab it. You'll never look at Tom Cruise or John Travolta the same way again.

The website of an organization dedicated to the exposure of these fruitcakes is found here.