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This is a question Join us... come join the cult

A friend of mine recently floored me with the admission that he'd spent several years in Eastern Europe with the Moonies. And he seemed so normal. Have you or your mates disappeared into a cult? Now that the brain-washing has worn off, tell us all about it.

(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 17:46)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

What a question...
Yes I've been part of a cult. I may as well tell you the story from the top.

Cast your minds back to a time when you were 18, just out of A levels (or just finishing them), and looking forward to dealing with life. Like many of my peers, I got it into my head that I wanted to go abroad and do development work. I found an organisation via a newspaper advert, signed up at the recruitment weekend in Hull, and then straight after my last exam I jetted off to Denmark to train to do what I wanted to do for six months. The basic idea was that I would train in Denmark, then head out to Africa to do stuff like building toilets, educating people about AIDS, general well meaning stuff. You get the idea.

Well, the first mistake happened when I arrived- that is, because they forgot I was arriving. I was sat in the bloody airport for three hours before thinking "screw it" and got a taxi to where I was staying, making sure I charged it to the company.

Anyways, about a month in, we were all put to work to clean up the school where we went to train. Myself and a friend were working on the library, and I happened on a book with a very interesting title- The History of North Korea. I read it, and had a laugh at was essentially some very weak propaganda from our friends in Asia. And then I threw it out, thinking nothing of it.

Another interesting occurrence was when the school decided to have a sing-along session. Fine and dandy, but we decided not to go because we had plans of our own, mainly involving lounging around and doing nothing. One of the teachers basically busted in, and ordered us out. She seemed most put out when I stayed where I was... I don't think she was equipped to deal with a narky English teenager who wasn't in a mood to put up with bullshit.

The final straw came when I found a website called tvindalert (have a look around, I think it's still out there) and noticed several odd things about this supposed "charity" I had signed up with. First of all, there had recently been a police raid at their headquarters. Secondly, there were allegations of money laundering, tax evasion, false accounting, brainwashing, and best of all... gun running. Not forgetting wage slavery and shoddy treatment of its' workers. So, not liking what I was reading, I emailed the link to my Dad who was a journalist at the time. He emailed back saying "it's real... get out of there!". Oh crap.

Anyways, I started to email the creator of the website in order to formulate an escape plan. The only problem was, what was meant to be a private email was posted on the website, which was monitored by the lovely people I was working with. Here's where the story gets interesting: we were just about to go on an outward bound weekend, when I was pulled off the bus, regarding the email that had been sent. I was put in an office, on my own, with a large pissed off Danish man, oddly enough called Rene. He couldn't understand why I was afraid of him- could have been something to do with the lock knife which I had on my person should he try anything.

So, after an hour or so of him trying to intimidate me, and me making a fool out of him, he tells me to leave the office. Here's the fun part. I get in contact with my Mum over msn- and she actually phoned up this guy and threatened him with coming over there herself with a presspack and making life *very* difficult if he didn't pay for a flight home and put me on the plane. Suffice it to say I got the plane on the tacit understanding I wouldn't contact the media. Which I did the very next day.

As a postscript to this, the leader of this cult is now on trial, the place where I was staying has closed, and the whole organisation seems thoroughly tits up.

And that's the story of how I managed to screw over a Danish cult.
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 18:53, Reply)
Level forty poo
A good friend of mine has always been a little on the unstable side, but somehow despite his deranged megalomania and manic-depressive tendencies has always managed to hold down a fairly good career and family life.

So I was to say the least a bit surprised when, about six years back, his mum & girlfriend contacted me to say they were a bit worried about him, as he’d got involved with a strange bunch of people in London who kept dragging him along to “seminars”, “weekend workshops”, “life courses” and various other loads of old bollocks which were draining his wallet pretty quickly – it clearly had the word Cult written all over it and they were becoming increasingly concerned at the gobbledegook he had begun to spout at great length.

They asked me if I wouldn’t mind helping the situation by, so to speak, going in after him and rescuing him. So I went for a beer & smoke with him and sure enough soon enough we got chatting about this organisation (the Landmark Forum) and he told me all about how wonderful it was, how they really helped people to improve their lives, become happier, how he realised now how empty his life had been, etc and fucking so on.

I remained straight faced and feigned a strong interest – even when he told me how they help people discover their unique talent and gift which they are able to share with the world – and how they’d helped him discover that his gift was - I jest not - being good at playing fucking video games.

A few weeks later I went along to one of these “seminars” with him, and I have seldom had such a whirlwind of emotions –astonishment, disbelief, pity for some poor suckers, and a huge amount of amusement.

They sat everyone in this hall where myself and the other obvious newcomers (wearing white badges with their names in BIG BLACK LETTERS) were tactically surrounded by the non-newcomers (gold badges, staring eyes, permanent shit-eating grins and nodding heads) – and one by one they got these gold-badged fools to take the stage and spout some old bollocks about how they hadn’t spoken to their dad for two years before they spent £2000 on the “discover your true self” course, blah blah quack quack wank wank wank.

After about 3 hours of this incessant tidal wave of brainwashing shite with no break for drinks, toilet, time to scratch your arse or nothing, they split the room up into smaller groups of about a dozen – two novices and ten cultos apiece. Each group then went into a smaller room where us newbies found ourselves immediately surrounded by a group of baying quacking acolytes employing staggeringly heavy-handed pressure sales tactics trying to force us into signing on the dotted line.

To be honest I felt in my element; I took pity on this poor little personality-void fella who was the other newbie in my group being cajoled into signing away his money and soul, so stood by his side and launched into an impassioned tirade to these fuckers about how it was an utter crock of shit delivering nothing except an obvious exercise in soul-destruction to rake in money for the shiny-toothed blonde-wigged Yank (natch) twat who headed the whole operation, and there was no way they were going to get their filthy claws into him.

This didn’t go down very well. Not very well at all.

One fella comes up to me, looked quite familiar as it happens, and started bleating you’re wrong, look at me, I used to live such a terrible life before I discovered the Landmark Forum, I’m now the perfect human being – AND I SHOULD KNOW – I USED TO BE THE KEYBOARD PLAYER IN LEVEL 42!!!! And it was. It really was him.

So I said maybe you were once, tell you what you are now though mate – you’re a fucking cunt.

In the hushed silence that followed, I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. I turned around, a little surprised to see the size of the hostile crowd that had gathered to see what the fuss was about, and there amongst it was my mate, laughing his arse off and walking towards me with his hand outstretched. Normal service had been resumed.

I took the terrified little novice by the arm and me, him and my newly-recovered mate left the building to a torrent of ill-will I have never encountered before or since. The last thing I heard from one of them was a terribly cry of “YOU’LL NEVER BE HAPPY!”

My mate turned round and shouted back “You’re pissed off, I’m laughing. Who’s the happy one you cunts?”
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 14:00, Reply)
Jehova Smehova
A Few years ago, i answered the door to what looked like 2 extras from men in black. I instantly knew what they were going to say, so I just closed the door.

As there is glass in my door I could see that they were still there, and lo and fucking behold they pressed the doorbell again.

Now one of my hobbies is junior football and the day before we had been at a tournament, run by our club, as if by magic there was a loudhaler thing there, as I had used it the day before to announce games and other bits and bobs.

As all the thoughts of what I could say to the 2 said dressed men were going through my head, they pressed again, "ding dong" went the bell.

So I picked up the loudhaler opened the door at light speed and shouted with the haler on full volume


They went.
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 13:06, Reply)
Can't remember this myself, but I have been told it on numerous occassions
When I was 3 years old on Christmas Day, some Jehova's Witnesses knocked on the door. I answered it.

JW: "Hello, are your mummy or daddy here?"

Me: "Fuck off, we like Christmas!"

Even now, I'm rather proud of that "witty" remark.
(, Sat 28 Jan 2006, 18:45, Reply)
Bunch of deluded 'cults'. (Bet that one hasn't been used yet!)
Some years ago, a friend of mine worked as a broadcast engineer for a firm that hired equipment to TV shows, corporate events etc. As I was not working many hours at the time, he'd often ask me along to various places to pick up equipment after shows and confrences. Company for him, and an excuse to raid the hospitality areas for me. Lot's of free beer and bacon rolls.

Anyway, one Saturday, he phones me and tells me he has to make a pick up from the UK headquarters of the Scientology movement. Did I wanna go?


The heavy weekend traffic alowed me a couple of hours to fill him in, L. Ron Hubbard, Sci Fi books, Founder dying a mentalist recluse, Cruise/Travolta, I even made up some shit about abduction and ritualistic murder in the 70's.

Hook, line, and their weighty chum, sinker.

As we approached the HQ, I was expecting some kind of converted semi, with an ill-kept path. Something befitting the status of this joke 'religion'.
How wrong I was.

We pulled up at the tank proof gates of a HUGE estate. After some serious faced verification of our reason to be there, we was allowed in. The place was amazing. It appeard to be the size of Richmond Park, but a lot better maintained. many, many acres of very expensive S.E. UK land. The buildings all resembled mansions of royalty, or garish castles of Dracula.

I believe Hubbard once said something along the lines of "The easiest way to become a rich man is to invent a religion". He certainly appeard to be right.

More distracting than the vulgar display of wealth that appeard to be reaching the horizon in every direction was, the presence of heavy (in both senses) security. Real menace with a smile type stuff. They were all wearing unseasonally heavy, long coats. We were a little confused about the gun carrying laws on private property, but they all certainly appeard tooled up in some fashion. This was the south of England, yet was starting to feel like 'Escape From New York' with better lawns and tuxedoed gangs. Actually, I promise you it was quite sinister.

We parked up, checking for potential escape routes as we did, and found our way into an area behind the scenes. The staff/volunteers/robots were milling around us, all busy with menial tasks and empty stares. I was recently reminded of this when playing 'Resident Evil 4', for anyone whose played it, just think of the villagers at the start of the game.

After a while, one of them sensed we was lost and approached us asking if we were "Joiners", to which I replied with grossly mis-calculated wit "No, mate, I work in mental health, so I'll probably be seeing you soon."

Not even a flicker. The po faced android. My friend explained why we was really there, and we was taken through some tunnelly areas into a main confrence hall, the centre piece of which was an enormous portrait of Hubbard.

We made our way up into the speakers area, on a raised, Godly platform. My chum found his company's equipment and started to disconect it. I amused myself by spying down on the various AGM attendees still milling about in the hall wondering how I could mess with 'em.

To my left, the P.A. system, including, from what I could tell, the still wired in microphone. I couldn't could I?

Fuggit. Why not.

I saw that I could duck out of site and speak to them all without them seeing who, or where the voice was coming from.


One hand holding the mic stem, the fingers hovering over the 'transmit' button...

"Are you ready to leave?"

My scrotum jumped a good eight inches into my stomach as the voice of the glassy eyed freak who had lead us here came very unexpectedly from stage left. He'd been watching and obviously still had enough unregulated thought to realise what I was about to do, as did my friend who made a wide-eyed, silent and panicked "NO!" motion with his mouth.

Probably time to leave.

You've never seen and underpowered broadcast engineers van make such an A-teamesque dash as what we decided would probably be useful at that point.

Well, I can assure you it was exciting and funny at the time.

Thanks for reading, apologies for length.
(, Sat 28 Jan 2006, 10:00, Reply)
I belong to this weird organisation...
First thing every morning, from Monday to Friday, we are woken by the sound of alarms, & forced to leave the comfort of our beds in order to arrive at the meeting house.

Once inside the building, we queue in silence, waiting to place our offerings of coins into a machine which dishes out a foul brown liquid, which we must all drink in order to prepare ourselves for the day ahead.

We are then set a series of mind-numbing tasks to complete within strict deadlines. We are given meagre amounts of money in return for this.

Throughout the course of the day, we are called into a room, & given long & tedious sermons by our leader, who is known within our group as the "Boss".

We are expected to give praise to a collective of deities known as the "Directors". They are all seeing & all powerful. Disagreement with these deities is sure to result in excommunication from the group, with the banished being presented with a ceremonial document known as a "P45".
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 14:00, Reply)
Ex-Jehovah's Witness Top Ten
I was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness but left ‘the truth’ when I was sixteen. Fourteen years (of therapy) later I can now share with you my top ten favourite things about being an atheist.

Ten - Xmas and Birthday Presents.
It’s a bit fucking late though – now I’m old enough to have to buy them for other people as well.

Nine - The Devils Music
He really does have all the best tunes

Eight - Saturday Morning Telly
Can you imagine a childhood without Noel Edmonds and Chris Tarrant? Er…

Seven - Being Apostate
A kind of excommunication. It means JWs aren’t allowed to talk to you. Top Tip eh? See em run

Six - Eating Black Pudding
Folk always bleat on about the blood transfusion thing. But what about that tasty forbidden blood sausage people? What about the blood sausage?

Five - Anal
Wrong-love with a capital A

Four - Drugs
Need I explain?

Three - Metaphysical Peace of Mind
I rest easy knowing the fate of the universe does not hinge upon the contents of my fry-up

Two - Mental Privacy
Knowing I can wank-fantasize about anything without the fear that god is reading my mind

They don’t! Can you imagine banning something so unconditionally cool from childhood? It’s the equivalent of denying the existence of pirates, ninjas, lasers and gold all at once! I’ll never forgive the fucknuts.

Oh, and to all those pissed off by the Saturday morning pests I apologise with the condition that you spare a thought for any poor JW kids you encounter, who’ve no doubt been forced into suits and dragged to your doorstep. Secretly they’re all dreaming of dinosaurs.
(, Wed 1 Feb 2006, 18:05, Reply)
If You've Got A Problem And No One Else Can Help.....
When I was about five I started a semi-cult based on the the fantabulous A-Team. I say cult, it was more of a game where we pretended to be the A-Team, but at five you take these things quite seriously. I was Hannibal (natch, candy cigarette instead of a cigar and generally 'loving it' when plans came together). Of my two friends, Owen had already bagged Mr. T (despite him being tiny and a smidge too white, but still he pitied the foo' on a regular basis) and Nicholas was Murdock (he generally howled and told everyone how mad he was without ever really backing it up with any sort of proof).

The problem was that they were the only two other boys in my street so we had to indoctrinate a girl (eeeuwww!) into our little cult to be Face (a tad disappointing that we couldn't afford his/her corvette, but then again our A-Team van was just a cardboard box). This was the point it all went really cultish as we decided we would have to have an initiation before we allowed her in. This is the reason why, at the age of five, Hannibal, Murdock and B.A. Barracus were all convicted of a crime they did commit and sentenced to a good hiding and being sent to bed early. Namely the crime of the majority of the A-Team showing Face their willies in the mistaken belief that Face would, in turn, show us her fanny.

I suspect that Colonel Decker was crouched in a nearby bush and grassed us up. The twat.
(, Mon 30 Jan 2006, 16:55, Reply)
Does Catholicism count as a Cult
It fucking should do...(note; the following rant isn't that funny, but by the sweet zombie Moses, it's accurate and pertinent...)

Something rather surprising happened a couple of weeks ago. A friend of mine announced that she had found God. After the obligatory comments of '...lost him down the back of the sofa did you?' my friend began to gush about her newfound sense of serenity and happiness that Jesus had afforded her. Approximately 20 minutes later she was absolutely horrified at the seemingly never-ending stream of bile that had I had spewed concerning the sheer evil that is organised religion. Anybody who has ever heard me talk about the subject will not exact be taken aback by that, but I rather think that my friend was wrong footed by the amount of venom that I hold for the Church. We agreed to disagree on the subject, though she made the observation "Have you had a bad experience or something...not trying to pry & its really none of my business but you seem so angry...” This got me to thinking about just why I hold the Church (and I used 'Church' as a catch-all term for absolutely every organised religion or religious cult, from Anglicans to Zarostranists (sic)) in such contempt.

I've never personally had a bad experience with the Church. I even managed to be in a church choir for a few months when I was 10 and I remained resolutely unbuggered by a single priest (although in fairness I still hold the diocese record for "Longest Maintaining of Anal Virginity in a Church Choir (under 11's section)" for this feat...). Nor have I been denounced as a heretic by any particular religious group (though under the strict definition of a heretic as 'One who questions' I hold up my hand and admit to falling into this category). I've corresponded with the Bishop of Newcastle and he has never been anything less than polite. So what is it that gets my back up? After all I'm not the only vehemently anti-church person that I know. Amongst my friends those who are religious fall into a distinct minority. So why is this?

Firstly I should make clear that I do not bear any grudges against a single individual that I have met who has any involvement in the Church, or at least if I do dislike them it has nothing to do with their religion. I realise that I'm just about to launch into a lengthy tirade about why the Church is an awful thing, but I am a believer in personal freedom within the boundaries of having consideration for how you actions can affect others. If somebody wishes to believe in a 2000 year old fairy tale (well...about 16-1700 years old as the bible was compiled centuries after the death of Christ), or the slickly packaged musings of a former Coventry City goalkeeper who used to wear turquoise shellsuits, or whatever, then that is their prerogative and it's not for me to tell them to stop. I'm going to tell them exactly what I think of it, but I'm not going to ask them to stop.

No, my grudge isn't against individuals but against the organisational aspect of the Church. Simply put, I think that Religion is Totalitarianism for beginners. Both are methods of imposing the will of the few onto the many. Both give absolute control of almost every aspect of a person's life as their stated aim. Both say that they do this for your own good. Both are rife with hypocrisy. Both ensure that those in the upper echelons of the organisation have the opportunity (not always taken) to grow fat, rich, and corrupt.

For example, the Catholic Church states that their priesthood must remain celibate and that it's followers must not use contraception and have sex only to reproduce. Communist rule in Romania dictated that the birth rate must increase and so sex became a patriotic duty. The Party in Orwell's 1984 sought to completely control reproduction via the encouragement of artificial insemination. One's sex life is a pretty damn personal thing yet all of these three bodies want to control it. The only difference that I can see between the 3 is the figurehead that is used. The Church relies on a mythical father figure who is kind and benevolent. The Church is merely an extension of his will. To question the will of the Church is to question the will of God. To question the will of God is to be disobedient, and so the miscreant needs to be gently disciplined as a father would discipline his son when he goes astray. As God is not a tangible being, this discipline is done by the Church on His behalf. Of course, I personally have gone astray from my Father's values on many occasions and he has yet to order me burnt at the stake, pressed by rocks until dead, excommunicated and thus condemned to hell, or even just shunned by himself and his friends.

The Nazi's had Adolf Hitler as their figurehead, which immediately gives them one advantage over the Church; they have a physical, tangible human being as their father figure. Of course, he was elevated to semi mythical status and imbued with all sorts of characteristics that gave would make him superhuman were they all true (this is a trick repeated by cults everywhere; indeed it's possibly the only thing that distinguishes the likes of Icke and L Ron Hubbard's cash-cow sects from mainstream religion). All things done in Nazi Germany were done in the name of Hitler whether he had ordered them (or even heard of them) or not. Whilst I do not doubt that he was a paragon of evil in himself or that he would have approved of 99% of what was done, all sorts of vile acts were done without his consent and in his name. To question any of this was to question the will of Hitler who in turn spoke for the Volk of Germany. As Hitler was unquestionably doing what was right for Germany, to question his will was anti-German and so these people had to be 'corrected' in protective custody. Nazi Germany was a long way advanced of the medieval church and so they could draw on the modern equivalents of burning at the stake etc.

The Party of 1984 had a fusion of the two; Big Brother was a Hitler like figure who was represented as a real person to the masses though the book is ambiguous at best as to whether he really does exist. Senior party members used Big Brother as a mixture of father figure and avenging angel to justify their use and abuse of power. The common thread that runs through all of these is that power is exercised by a few men and women. They justify themselves using a distant figure to whom no right of appeal can be reasonably expected. Therefore all of the decisions that affect the running of the Church/Party are made by those same few. In other words, one of the reasons I hold such hatred for the Church is that it places immense power in the hands of a few people, and as history has shown time and time again, power corrupts. There are few or no checks or balances in place to ensure that power is exercised in a fair way because they are exercising the will of an infallible being so why would they need them?

Which leads us into the heart of just why I have such a problem with the Church; they allow people to believe that by becoming a member of the church they are receiving guidance from God/Alpha Waves/Good Aligned Martian Lizards. They are doing absolutely no such thing whatsoever. They are receiving guidance from men. From human beings. There is nothing divine about the people whom they are handing over control of their lives to. They are just flesh and blood like everybody else. And like everybody else they have their own reasons for doing what they do. I'm not doubting that some do genuinely belief in the unfathomable mystery of the divine, in the rapture, or in whatever piece of mumbo jumbo of variable age and questionable origin that their particular Church espouses. However, as they are all people like any other then they will have the same sense of ambition, the same vulnerabilities, the same irrational likes and dislikes, the same flaws as any one of us. And their all-too-human traits will affect their actions toward their followers. So no one ever receives the undiluted wisdom of the spiritual world. They receive somebody else's interpretation of it. This is the reason for my less than charitable prejudice against the more devout followers of the Church; they don't have the courage to try and come to their own conclusions so they let somebody else do it for them.

Naturally the Church would dispute this. They would point to the Bible, or the Koran, or to a series of Sumerian and Aztec/Inca pictograms, or whatever book contains the teachings and dogma of that Church. They would say that it is the truth and the leaders of the Church simply teach the followers about it and encourage them to live their lives according to it's precepts. If that is so, how on earth is there still war and murder (because after all, Thou Shalt Not Kill) that receives the support of the Church? Why isn't the Church encouraging us to shun menstruating women (as we are told to do in Deuteronomy)? Why are we told to love our fellow man whilst simultaneously encouraged to denounce them if they don't follow the same religious teachings as you?

It's because those books of timeless wisdom are all mired in a particular place both historically and geographically. The Bible is a good textbook on how to live your life in 3rd-6th century Europe. The Koran does the same job for the Middle East of the 6th-7th century. They did not foresee a world that would change quite as radically as it has since then. So these books (that were written by men) are now interpreted by men and women as to how they relate to today's world. Fallible man and women. They may like to kid themselves that they are being entirely objective in their interpretations but this is a self-delusion. No one is completely free of bias, and so the teachings of the Church have been influenced by Byzantine politics, personal grievances, jealousies and petty hatreds.

As a humanist it does seem a little strange to me that the reason I criticise the Church is because it is mortal and not divine. But I hate it because it pretends to be something it is not. It claims higher motivations for seeking base power and it is absolutely no different to any method of controlling or subjugating a populace that has ever been created. People should by all means seek answers for to the divine and to the spiritual (I know I do) but I wish that they would do so without abdicating responsibility for doing so to someone else. Your own personal beliefs are just as valid and far more important than anything that you are encouraged to accept or have imposed on you as the truth. I truly believe that the world would be a better place if more people remembered that.

You can take the piss out of my humourless earnestness now. I know I would.
(, Mon 30 Jan 2006, 16:49, Reply)
When I was in year 8 I started my own cult. It had 2 members.
My friend Jon and I started a cult, just for ourselves. Nothing serious. Just a laugh.

It was called the "Inkadinkadoo"

During registration time at tutor classes, our mission would be to obtain the highest stools to sit on (we were based in an art class) and sit around the table and pick on the kids near us whilst sat on the high chairs of inkadinkadoo.

We would then proceed to pick on people sat near us:

"Do we have any minutes for the commitee meeting of inkadinkadoo?"

"Yes. Jake has shit hair, and Joe's mum is a filthy whore"

"And that concludes our meeting of inkadinkadoo. The inkadinkadoos have spoken"

Also, when you went through the corridors, you could only walk through "push" doors. If you came accross a "pull" door, you would have to wait until somebody else walked through it, then try to squeeze through without touching the door or the door frame.

Oh yeah, and when Mrs Cliff's *thunder* name was spoken of, you had to make a thunder noise in order to indicate that she was in fact a 143 year old witch who was cast into this life to surpress the followers of inkadinkado. She was known as an inkadinkadon't.

Ooooh and on the 13th of any month, we would be able to say her name without apocolyptic consequences unless it was a Friday 13th, when her wrath would be felt thirteen times as much.

So I beg you, join me in the inkadinkadoo ways and we shall forever banish the inkadinkadon'ts!
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 2:49, Reply)
I was in Perth Australia about 3 years ago and I got talking to some Mormans...Mormen?...whatever on the street. They're always nice enough people and I'm the type to talk to strangers. I mean, what harm could Mormen do? They told me about where they were from and all that stuff and I even got my picture taken with them.

So I come back home to sunny Southend-on-Sea, the jewel of Essex. About a month or two goes by and I'm standing in the high street of my town with a few mates. Sudden;y, one of my friends looks over my shoulder in a rather puzzled manner.

"Who are they?" he says, and I look over my shoulder as well. I recognise their little badges and I say,

"Oh, they're just some M...orm..."

As I spoke, my blood ran cold. It was the same set of mormans. The exact same people as I had met in Perth Australia on the other side of the planet. They must've redflagged me. Out to get me!

I ran. Very fast. Away.
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 18:28, Reply)
...I used to be a member of the much lesser known "Jehovahs Innocent Bystanders".
(, Tue 31 Jan 2006, 8:05, Reply)
Not strictly relevant (and a bit long; sorry)
But at least it's funnier than my other post...

Northumbria University scholars are preparing to rewrite the Bible by incorporating revelations contained in ancient scrolls discovered beside the South Shields Ferry jetty, it emerged yesterday.

A team of theologians and historians will gather in Italy later this month to start the potentially explosive task of inserting new details about the life and times of Jesus Christ.

The influence of radical Jewish groups who wanted to overthrow Roman rule is likely to feature in the new Bible, bolstering those who interpret Christ as a revolutionary who fought political oppression.

An account of the teenage years of Jesus has also been included in the Bible (2nd Edition). It is believed that this new Biblical book, the Gospel according to Jesus' mate Dave, will detail the life of Jesus from age 13 to 19. Certain early miracles are alluded to such as Jesus turning the water into cheap strong dry cider and the miracle of the Removal of the Hangover.

We have read some of the early drafts of the manuscripts and can confirm that, if included, the texts promise to revamp the Bible and it's image. We have acquired an exclusive copy of Chapters 3 and 4 of this new Gospel, which runs as follows;

Jesus' mate Dave, Chapter 3, verse 1.
1. "And the 6th day did come to pass, and lo, being as it was a Friday, the Lord did decide to cane it most heavily.

2.Yet we, his followers were doubtful. "Lord," we said unto him "We have no sheckles with which to buy cider from the local emporium. How can it be that we can go on the lash this day? All avenues of cash are closed to us, insomuch as we have spent our pocket money on these new robes which mark us out as one of your gang."

3.And Jesus did grin as he spake unto us. "Fear not my friend Dave, for I have seen the way and I will provide for thee. After supper, let us all meet at the prearranged place. Let all of you bring unto me 3 amphorae of water."

4."And most of all my friends, let us ensure that we wear our trendiest threads for it is foretold that Mary Magdalene will be there this very eve. And most assuredly, I would love to give her one." Thus spake the lord.

5. So it was that we, his friends, gathered at the place that we were commanded to go and each of us did carry with us 3 amphorae of water

6. For our parents, being suspicious that we would be getting pissed and causing trouble round town, had foresaken us from nicking the sherry from their drinks cabinets and so this eve we were above suspicion insomuch as we were carrying only water.

7. And we did meet with the Lord. And lo, Jesus' mate Kev was full of wrath ere he arrived. "Lord, I will be a fucking laughing stock because of you!" called he. And we did observe how the water had spilled from his amphorae.

8. And lo, the Lord spake "Kev, you look just like you've pissed yourself". And the lord did point and laugh, and being his friends, we did the same. So it came to pass that Kev stormed off in a huff whilst we did, in accordance with the lords command, call after him with names such as "Pissy Pants".

9. So it was that we 11 found ourselves alone with the Lord in a back alley with amphorae of water numbering 1 score and 13. And the Lord's mate Tommy spake thus;

10 "So what the fuck are we meant to do with 33 litres of water oh Lord? Indeed, I would have more chance of getting pissed in the temple of our Lord whose name I may not speak."

11. The Lord did receive this most grievously phrased question in silence. At length he spake thus "Drink of thy amphorae Tommy, and tell me what thy chances of getting good and hammered are this very night." And Tommy did take a mighty draft of his amphorae. And he did lower it from his lips in surprise and spake thus;

12 "Fuck me Lord! This stuff is the strongest cider I have yet tasted!" The Lord smiled at him and bade us follow the example provided by Tommy.

13. And there was much rejoicing.

14. And so it came to pass that after we had downed one amphorae each, we were three sheets to the wind with 2 amphorae remaining for each of us. And as we drank, the Lord (who seemed in quite a state) spake unto each of us

15. Saying "Drink of me, for this is my pish. Whenever you drink of this holy liquid, remember me and honour my name and that of my father".

16. And lo, the Lord did find this exceedingly amusing insomuch as he kept breaking into fits of giggles as he spoke.

17. By this time a crowd had gathered near to us. Yea, it was comprised of women, blondes and brunettes both, betwixt the ages of 16 and 18. And they spake unto the Lord thus;

18. "Here, give us some of thy cider O Lord. For we have a great and grievous thirst and would be most grateful" And the Lord did say "Just how grateful would you be?" and did waggle his eybrows in a most conspiratorial manner.

19. And Mary Magdalene did push her way forward to the Lord. And she was wearing naught but a tight fitting low cut robe. She did say unto the Lord "How grateful would you like us to be?". And she did wink in a most lewd manner.

20. And so the Lord did agree to give the women cider. And in exchange they did lay with us all night.

21. And there was much rejoicing.

Jesus' mate Dave Chapter 4 Verse 1
1. And yea, it came to pass that after we had shot our lot within the good woman who shared the cider with us and after the aforementioned cider had ran dry, the ladies did take their leave from us.

2. Yet we were troubled, for the Lord was no-where to be seen.

3. And neither was Mary Magdalene.

4. And so it was that after a few minutes the Lord did emerge from a darkened doorway. And Mary Magdalene did follow him, and was seen to be wiping something sticky from the corner of her mouth.

5. And we did join the Lord in laughter, knowing well what had came to pass in the doorway. And Mary did eye us with contempt and spake thus unto us "Cease thy boyish laughter. If any of thou were half the man that the Lord is, then perhaps you too would know the joys of my flesh. Indeed, he is the only one whom I would do such things for and even then, I do so in the name of his cider."

6. And the Lord did speak once more, saying "I suppose a shunt up your Cadbury's alley is out of the question then?" And there was much laughter, though not from Mary Magdalene.

7. And she did raise her knee in a most violent and passionate manner.

8. And the Lord did crumple in a heap.

9. Once Mary Magdalene had gone from this place, we did help the Lord to his feet as his loyal friends and did escort him to his home having agreed that we should all meet the following morning at his place.

10. And so we all returned to the places from whence we had came so that we may sleep. And the morning did come, and lo, my head did feel as though a Roman legion did march throughout, banging their metal shields as they did go.

11. And there was much sorrow.

12. So it was that we all gathered in the house of the Lord's mum and dad. And the Lord's mum did laugh mightily upon seeing our sorry state, and did offer us all a cooked breakfast. And with much heaving of stomachs we did refuse to a man.

13. The Lord did emerge looking fresh and untroubled by our exertions of the previous night. And he spake thus;

14. "Whew! We really did cane it big time last night, eh lads? Lads? What's up?"

15. For there was a weeping and a wailing and a gnashing of teeth from us, such was the depth of our hangover.

16. And the Lord did smile knowingly and did wave his hand in the air speaking thus;

17. "Abrakebabra! I cast out the demons of thy hangover in the name of my Father, of me, and of the Holy Ghost"

18. And lo, our heads did clear and our stomachs did cease their burbling.

19. And there was much rejoicing.

The Bible is based mostly on manuscripts written centuries after Christ lived, but the so-called Dead Sea scrolls, found at Qumran by shepherds in 1947, have been dated to the decades before and after his crucifixion.
The 800 documents, written by the Essenes, a Jewish sect, date from 170 BC to AD 68, and chronicle the turbulence of the Roman occupation of Judea as well as the lives of the teenagers who lived there.

Gianluigi Boschi, a Dominican priest and Vatican biblical scholar, told yesterday's La Stampa, a Turin daily newspaper, that an international commission of scholars had been given the green light to update the Bible by culling material from the scrolls.

The initiative will be officially announced at a conference at the University of Northumbria on September 26 2006. The team is expected to include Etienne Nodet, author of The Origins of Christianity; Paolo Garuti, a biblical scholar; and Garcia Martinez, president of the international movement for Qumranic studies.

Jolum Wristmeyer, a canon doctor at Oxford University, welcomed the initiative but suggested the results may be less than dramatic. "There has never been a settled, definitive version of the Bible, it has been an evolving book which has gone through many translations depending on what the Pope, or whoever happened to be in charge of any particular band of Godbotherers, wanted people to do. Only fundamentalists think it came in a fax from heaven. And frankly, anyone who tries to bring out a definitive version to end all arguments may as well try spanking their monkey in the Vatican Square”.
(, Mon 30 Jan 2006, 16:52, Reply)
I just got it! Cult and Cunt! They are similar!
(, Sat 28 Jan 2006, 21:45, Reply)
My 7 year old freaked out the Witnesses once...
She had a pet snake (rosy boa, quite small and harmless) named Syrup. We bought her in winter and as it is amazingly cold in Michigan then she moved like well, molasses in January. Syrup loved to curl around your neck, slide through your warm hair and perch on the top of your ear, looking out at the world. Emma was wearing Syrup in such a manner when the doorbell rang. She opened the door to two of the most horrified looks I've seen in a long time. The lead Witness gaped and stammered at the devil-child, "D-d-do you k-know the Word of the L-lord?'

I couldn't resist. I came up behind her, put my hand on her head with a suitably theatric gesture, made psycho-eyes and hissed, "GET OUT!"

They didn't run. I give them credit for bravery but they did walk very quickly down the driveway.
(, Sat 28 Jan 2006, 17:55, Reply)
handy hints
i) 'cult' shares three of its four letters, in the same position, as 'cunt'.

ii) 'The Cult' is the name of a band, which is similar to 'the cult', referring to a particular cult.

iii) If your horse is lying down and refusing to move, try flogging it harder.
(, Tue 31 Jan 2006, 20:51, Reply)
When I was younger I joined my local guides group, it was just outside of our tiny village and there were only about 5 of us. I don't really remember much about it, apart from the first time I walked into our guide leaders house.

Her husband was a complete Nazi follower. It is not a pleasant experience to walk into your girl guides leader's house and straight into a room filled with pictures of Hitler, models of Hitler, Nazi flags and looooooooooooooooads of other Nazi memorabilia. It was everywhere.

Oh yeah - I'm Jewish.
(, Sat 28 Jan 2006, 13:29, Reply)
I use a Mac...
'Nuff said.
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 13:29, Reply)
I am a cult horse

(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 19:35, Reply)
The Guardian
said I was a cult.
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 20:17, Reply)
It's not what people think...
I grew up in an idyllic little creek in the good ole U, S of A. I had a nice guy and a nice life until it all went wrong and I moved to LA to persue my career as an actress. I met this guy, like you do, auditioned for a role in his latest major motion picture and wham-bam, next thing you know I'm trapped in a crazy alien worshipping cult!
Anyway, Mum, if you're reading this - Please come get me! You were right and I'm sorry Tom called you "The bastard whore of Beelzeebub" and got his minders to Roundhouse Dad until his ears bled. He did pay for the damage to Granny's Iron Lung and also the headstone and I didn't hear you complain about that!
I'll be in Cell, sorry Room 4 of the LA Scientology Centre and if you could get Dad's bolt cutters from the garage that'd be great.

Loads of love and big kisses from your daughter

The Queen of Betelgeuse / Katy xxx
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 21:25, Reply)
Chick Publications
When I was a student in Northern Ireland we used to get deluged with religious nutter pamphlets, mostly along Christian themes but some of them were pretty rabid. One of our landlords was so 'in with God' that when we moved out of his house, my goth flatmate took down her Marilyn Monroe poster only to find a pamphlet about Mary Magdalen, Whore of Satan tucked behind it. It wasn't there when we moved in...

Anyway, I digress, one of my friends collected these religious pamphlets (including the amazing Ice Gritter Death, about someone who nearly lost his appendages in a grisly winter accident but found God instead) and was planning to write his English Literature dissertation on them. By far the looniest are the Chick cartoon brainwashing booklets which explain in badly drawn detail how D&D will turn you into a witch, or how Harry Potter is the evillest boy in the world etc. www.chick.com/default.asp

I was walking through Chicago last May (there for the day to appear on Oprah, another cult - and another story) when I passed a guy thrusting leaflets at everyone, with no takers. I did a quick double-take and realised he was a Chick-pusher, so turned back, smiling happily and said 'Brilliant! You're a nutter! Yes please!', took my pamphlet and moved swiftly on before his beaming smile at my positive reaction faded when he registered what I'd actually said...
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 13:38, Reply)
While in uni me and some mates started the Hairy Girls Club
Could that be classified as a cult?

None of us were particularly hirsute, but someone came up with the fantastic idea, (in the midst of a cloud of pot smoke), that we should all stop shaving and the one that lasted the longest would win a pint from everyone.

So we all proceeded to grow our underarm, leg and bikini lines.

I didn't win. Not because it grossed me out, but because I was so disgusted at the lack of hair. I felt that if I go to all that trouble of shaving it off - there should at least be a decent underarm Don King waiting to grow through. Sadly, just a blond puff. Pure embarassment.
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 21:41, Reply)
I've been involved in the cult for about 20 years...
...mind you, I am Ian Astbury.
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 18:03, Reply)
Feel the Force
A very sad mate of mine believes in the "force" (as in Star Wars for all you slow people).

A few years back he got together with a band of what can only be described as "wtf" and they had little Jedi meetings. They all took up martial arts, meditated, and wore only ninja type clothing. Mate in question, lets call him John (sorry John) didn't get the whole ninja thing right. He went out and bought some baggy clothes all right.

Khaki combats, Khaki plimsoles, and a Kahki short sleve shirt. It being a hot day and all he decided to buy a hat.

Khaki. Round top and wide brim.

Think of a colonial tiger hunter from India circa 1900.

Oh how we laughed, "Obi wan Del Monte" we called him.

To this day he practises his odd fetish. Get a few jars in him and he will wax philisophical about the force and all that pap.

It's long and I don't care.
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 15:54, Reply)
Cult o' Noodles
Anyways, this friend/co-worker friend who is a paranoid pot smoking truck driver. Started a cult in the third grade. Back then it was in the mid 1960's and as a child he was inundated with movies and t.v shows showing nazis. So he made up little brown paper sleeve rings and hats out of construction paper and called it the fourth reich. Some reason it caught on and he became the leader, but wouldn't let any of the bullies join. Pretty soon at recess all the little fourth reichers would not be playing kickball. Instead they would march and drill and try to capture the ex-bullies to execute them or perform expirements on them. Anyways, the F.B.I. got involved, came to his school and interviewed this future threat to the safety of American'ts and the teachers disbanded the little soldiers. The F.B.I sternly warned this young third grader that he now had a file and they would be watching him. Shit, even into the dude's 50's he was still paranoid as hell.
(, Fri 27 Jan 2006, 7:04, Reply)
I quite often get called a cult by people...
But the funny thing is, they keep misspelling it!
(, Thu 26 Jan 2006, 19:37, Reply)
"Yes, I am coming quickly." Amen. Come Lord Jesus. (Revelation 22:20)
I too have no one to talk to during sex. However this is not related to my religious beliefs so much as to my necrophilia.
(, Tue 31 Jan 2006, 18:01, Reply)
Body Popping for the Lord...
I apologise in advance for the lack of humour in this post.

I wasn't in a cult but I was in something that could well be seen as one. For my sins, I spent six years in the Evangelical church, the gods only know why. For those who are not aware of them, these are the kind of churches where there's lots of dancing, clapping and people falling over and body-popping on the floor. I've heard and seen some strange things, including people blowing raspberries and imitating farmyard animals because "the spirit led them to do it". I often wondered what would happen if anyone suffered a seizure or an epileptic fit during the service. A grand mal in the name of the Lord perhaps.

Still, I guess I didn't really see through the hypocrisy until I went to the front to get blessed (they call it an altar call) one day. The pastor slapped his hand on my head and attempted to push me over and into the arms of his assistants, who hovered behind me in anticipation. But it was his words that made me see red.

Pastor: ..and all those times that people said they didn't love you, Jesus did.
Me: Amen
Pastor: ..and all those times your friends said they didn't love you, Jesus did.
Me: Amen
Pastor: ..and all those times that your parents said that they didn't love you, Jesus did.

My eyes flicked open. There was definitely no serenity there.

Me: What the hell did you just say!?
Pastor: ..I...I...!

I was very angry. He'd just insulted my family.

Me: My parents never told me that they didn't love me you prick!

Actually, that bit was fun. It felt naughty but right, like the first time you swear in front of your family. I obviously said it a little louder than I should of because his assistants had backed off and a few other worshippers around me looked like their halos had been shaken a little. I glared at the man then spun on my heel and stormed off back to my seat. Not one person tried to apologise.

That was really the beginning of the end. From that point on I started unravelling the dogma that had kept me with these fools for so long. I left the church very shortly afterwards, not one of them asked me why. It's a shame as there are some very nice people in the church. These days I'm a pagan. It's a lot more sex, drugs and stone circles than what I was into before. Besides, polytheism is great with JW's. When they ask if you would like to talk about God, I ask them which one. :)

So the next time someone you know goes to a church and starts acting weird, remember that sometimes the only difference between a church and a cult is their size. Peace.
(, Tue 31 Jan 2006, 13:19, Reply)

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