London Idle Org – Planet Ivy visits the London Church of Scientology

Planet Ivy May the 2nd visited the Idle Org of London:

scientology london

Published on May 2nd, 2013 | by Tristan James

Planet Ivy visits the London Church of Scientology

In a world of uncertainty, perhaps money is king. And jellyfish are inherently evil.

L. Ron Hubbard, had an extensive life of literally doing everything. He flew planes, sailed boats, grew tomatoes, killed Nazis, helped build the atomic weapon and wrote a lot of shitty science fiction – he was basically Forest Gump, but better. He also happened to create modern history’s most contentious religion, Scientology. Quoted as once saying “I’d like to start a religion. That’s where the money is”, Hubbard’s Scientology has attracted attention all over the world, so I went and asked what’s gwanin.

I was booked in for a personality assessment, tour and hopefully a good old-fashioned brainwash. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the marble floor. Really, marble flooring? Totally cliché. I pointed this out to the Brazilian gentlemen at the front desk, who failed to understand, so I professed to my appointment. “You’ll be with Pedo-hunter,” he said. Having quite a good ear for accent deciphering I presumed he meant Peter Hunter. But my uncertainty was just that. I took a seat, quietly reassuring myself that it at least wasn’t Pedo-lover.

A short time later a Glaswegian appeared, his name was Rudy. Peter was apparently busy. I had only one suspicion. After shaking hands like champs we moved up some more ornate marble in the shape of stairs. The building was deserted despite it’s size. It seemed to be full of closed doors, Indiana Jones tribute symbolism and wooden furnishings. I half expected floor traps and Sean Connery, but there weren’t any women around worth hitting.

scientology question

We found ourselves in what can only be described as a classroom. I was given a personality test made up of 250 questions. It required my full name, employment details, and address. I filled them out and cracked on. It resonated with the level of cryptic ambiguity of a bipolar schizophrenic on ice cream day. After a strangely introspective 45 minutes I finished the test and waited for Rudy to return. He didn’t. So I went looking for him.

He was reading in a nearby room. He relieved me of my paper, which went into a scanner and within minutes a graph that would spell my fate was born. He mused over it, “You’re quite a conflicted person.” Aren’t we all? “Well, yes,” he explained, pointing out some highs and lows in the graph that were supposedly acute accurate assessments of my personality. He failed to raise anything I wasn’t already aware of, the whole discourse could be summarised as ‘You’re lazy and it’s no wonder all your ex-girlfriends hate you’. Then the e-meter came out.

The e-meter is a device that looks like it should run the N64 version of Mario Kart. When I brought this up, Rudy replied flatly, “It doesn’t.” It’s supposedly capable of gauging emotional scarring and energy blockages. “Close your eyes.” I was hoping this wasn’t the beginning of a ‘guess what’s in your mouth’ game. “Good, now think of something traumatic.” Holding the two metal toilet rolls, I opted for creativity over truth, “Jellyfish.” I paused, understanding that this wasn’t going to suffice, but having failed to think of a story first, I was forced into an awkward and barely congruent lie, “I was stung by a tropical jellyfish. I almost died.”

I stepped out of the room considering the only possible conclusion, jellyfish are responsible for all of my faults.

This went on for about 15 minutes. My story was awful, Rudy, however, was captivated, allowing me to open my eyes at times during the regale to view the pulsing dials. It all seemed impressive and very scientific, until he asked me if I smoked pot. “Drugs in the system can affect the readings.” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, was I meant to confess? “It’s fine, don’t worry,” he said, “I used to smoke everyday.” This triggered a long conversation about getting high as teenagers. I swore I almost saw the glint of long-lost good times so often seen in the unhappily married when talking of life before misery. It was cut short however, when the first other person I’d seen in an hour came into the room. The conversation was forgotten and the e-meter moved aside. I stepped out of the room considering the only possible conclusion – jellyfish are responsible for all of my faults – and looking forward to using this in my next relationship.

We strolled around the upper floors of the building. A few people were hunched over books in what appeared to be a library. One man was leading another around in circles by the back of his head. Rudy must have noticed my apprehension, “You’ll see a few weird things in here. I won’t bother explaining it,” he laughed. We went past the Purification Rundown room, “This is where we get all the drugs out of someone’s system.” We lingered in silence here, and it became clear what assumptions Rudy had made of me.

We continued on through aisles and aisles of books. Where Genghis Khan spent a lifetime disemboweling and fucking, Hubbard spent twice as much time dribbling shit onto paper. It was here that things began to go where I had inevitably feared. “You should really consider buying some of these,” Rudy said, pointing out one after another, after another. “They could really help you.” Though I couldn’t recall at what point we’d decided I needed help, his lingering eye contact assured me it had definitely been decided.


We went back down stairs. Marble, marble, wood, Raiders of the Lost Ark prop, marble. Finally we were back in the classroom. A look of gravity had developed on Rudy’s previously soft, welcoming little face. “I really think we can help you.” I don’t think I need help, Rudy. “Well why did you come today, why did you find yourself here?” Things were getting heavy. Suddenly courses were offered at £34. A Dianetics DVD was £15. I refused at every corner and every offer. “If you don’t buy this today, you won’t come back, you’ll be missing out.” I promised that I would return, “You won’t Tristan, I’ve seen it a hundred times before, this could change your life.” And they say guilt is a catholic thing.

I did eventually escape. If I wasn’t prepared to spend a tiny bit of money on myself, it was an indication of my problems. With that, Rudy finally loosened his grip on the guilt hammer. His smile returned. My flashbacks to childhood ended. I shook his hand and left the building.

Since writing this article I have been called five times by the church. I have not answered. They know where I live.


London Tottenham Court Road Test Centre

The Black Knight on said:

London Tottenham Court Road Test Centre

At the last New Year’s event I nearly fell off my chair when I heard the stats for Tottenham Court Road test centre. The stats were far, far higher than when I helped out there. I helped out on Sundays doing stress tests and book selling.The staff there were fantastic, dedicated, smart, capable. The facilities where great, very upstat: TV’s on the walls, nice decor and a very large capacity test centre with computers for evaluating tests in the centre of London. The ideal test centre. This was in 2009. The only non-ideal part was hardly anybody came in and it was difficult to sell books. I would only sell one or two a day. The others would do no better. The public were very reluctant to do personality tests and the staff were even more reluctant to evaluate them. The reason why was that the computerised test evaluation was just rubbish and the staff are not even given any training on how to evaluate this. Imagine, if you will, joining staff as a new Scientologist on Monday and being put on the test line on Tuesday and the other staff there had the same training as you on the subject: None.

On average the test center, including day and foundation, did seven tests per week. I would look at all the tests in the inbox. I’m an expert in evaluating OCA tests and I did a whole hat write up and was willing to instruct the staff, but this offer was refused on the grounds that it was a wrong flow. The Org was supposed to train the public not the public train the Org. To my knowledge, and, in the year or so that I went there, nobody could evaluate this test. The computer Eval was completely inaccurate and only caused ARC breaks. It is insane to believe that a computer can evaluate for Thetan and that’s even if the programmer was expert in the OCA Eval and computer programming which is very unlikely. I wrote to RTC at that time stating that I believed their psychometric testing kit was inaccurate and the computerised Eval was worse than useless.
On any of the days I was at the test centre nobody started on a course. RTC did not respond to my to my report on the OCA test.Test centres were doing exactly as planned. It should be called the ARC break centre and the stats should read number of ARC breaks delivered

I did not go to the main Org much, but, when I did, it was always semi-deserted. I thought the public must be in a different part of this fabulous building. My 2D did some auditing at London and she says she was mostly the only PC in the HGC. I was also puzzled at the OCA testers lack of training because I know at least one Sea Org staff member who is expert in the OCA and he holds a post that he is not qualified for and is probably the least suited to the post out of 200 staff.
The entry to the bottom of the bridge is an obstacle course and the top of the bridge looks like a minefield.

Perhaps a miracle occurred after I left.

I hope this insight into the idle orgs helps.

Great staff – pity about the management.