Itinerantdaughter's Blog

“Two Sea Org bases are located on the old Gilman resort, Gold and Int. Gold Base is named after Golden Era Productions, the lavishly equipped film and recording studio set up by Hubbard to make his movies and produce Scientology materials.  Int. Base is the church’s international headquarters.  On the north side of the highway, nestled against the dry hills, is Bonnie View, the house that Hubbard hoped one day to live in.  [David] Miscavige keeps an office on the property.  Few Scientologists, and almost no one outside of the church, knew of its existence.  The local community was told that the bankrupt property on California Highway 79 had been purchased in 1978 by the ‘Scottish Highland Quietude Club.'”

~ Lawrence Wright (again), Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief

A cursory Google search indicates that the Scottish Highland Quietude Club doesn’t actually exist.  I’m thinking of starting one.  Who’s with me?

I’ve owned –– and lost –– the above title at least three times.  Once was decidedly not my fault, and this last time, I think, was the working of a spiteful G-d, as I distinctly remember having the book in my bed, rejoicing at having been reunited with the slim volume, and then POOF!  A day later it was gone, having, it only stands to reason, evaporated into thin air.  It’s always upsetting to me to live without this book, as I like to re-read it once a month, if I can, to re-educate myself of the wisdom contained within.  For me, it is a kind of prayer book, and I like to pick it up and read certain arbitrary sections the same way that I do the Tao or the writings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov.

But enough about me and codependency…

In WTCONC, Trow paints a brief portrait of a young woman named Andrea Whips, a “minor Warhol star” who used to put on impromptu performances in the back room of Max’s Kansas City.  In these performances, she would stand on a table and say one phrase over and over again –– Trow’s example was “She’ll be comin’ round the mountain when she comes” –– each time stressing a different word, or moving in a specific way to the incantation, hiking up her skirt on “she’ll” or lifting up her arms slowly on “mountain.”  She ended up committing suicide, but I think I learned that via Patti Smith, and not Trow.

About a year ago, I was doing transcription work for a documentary film company that was working on a movie about Marilyn Monroe.  The filmmakers had hired a number of famous actresses to read sections of Monroe’s diary, but for whatever reason, the director of the documentary had instructed these actresses that if they messed up, they should start the sentence over again instead of running through the rest of the monologue and redoing it in another take.  I listened to hours of these tapes, the actresses repeating the often nonsensical, always haunting speeches of this troubled, sad woman, and I kept thinking about Andrea Whips.

“Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs so loose –– girdle hangs light.  Actress must have no mouth, shoulder.  Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs light, so loose.  Everything focused on the partner, feeling in the ends of my fingers.

“Actress, actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Everything, though –– actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs light, so loose.  Everything focused on partner.  Feeling in the ends of my fingers.

“Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs light, so loose.  Everything focused on partner.  Feelings in the end of my fingers.  Actress must have no mouth, no feet –– actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs light, so loose.  Everything focused on partner, feelings in the end of my fingers.

“Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs loo… Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Actress… actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs loose, so… no.

“Actress must have no mouth, feet, shoulder.  Girdle hangs light, so loose.  Everything focused on the partner, feelings in the ends of my fingers.”

This is really all there is to this story.

I can write.

My mind is still brilliant.

That masturbation is no sin or crime.

That I do not need to have ulcers anymore.

That I am fortunate in losing Polly and my parents, for they never meant well by me.

That I believe in my gods and spiritual things.

That my magical work is powerful and effective.

That the numbers 7, 25 and 16 are not unlucky or evil for me.

That I am not bad to look upon.

That I am not susceptible to colds.

That Sara is always beautiful to me.

That these words and commands are like fire and will sear themselves into every corner of my being, making me happy and well and confident forever!

~ From Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright