Jean-Michel -:- New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 04:46:27 (EDT)

__ suchabanana -:- a cult classic sit-com! -:- Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 02:06:23 (EDT)

__ Disculta -:- Incredible, but, but, but... -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 23:25:20 (EDT)

__ __ Jim -:- No, the article really did say that -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 23:55:49 (EDT)

__ __ __ Disculta -:- Re: No, the article really did say that -:- Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 00:46:04 (EDT)

__ __ __ __ Jim -:- Sorry -:- Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 00:56:22 (EDT)

__ Susannah -:- Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:12:32 (EDT)

__ Peg -:- Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:15:55 (EDT)

__ __ berni -:- Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:44:40 (EDT)

__ __ Jean-Michel -:- Hypnotic videos/music -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:44:02 (EDT)

__ Brian S -:- Powerful Stuff, Jean-Michel -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:31:54 (EDT)

__ Pat:C) -:- It could almost have been written yesterday -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:18:44 (EDT)

__ __ Brian S -:- My sentiments exactly Pat -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:44:42 (EDT)

__ Jean-Michel -:- Another article in the same issue -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 09:22:22 (EDT)

__ __ Brian S -:- I have done several Indian -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:35:35 (EDT)

__ __ __ Pat:C) -:- ***BEST OF....*** Brilliant, Brian -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:29:50 (EDT)

__ __ __ Chuck S. -:- You explained that really well... -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:17:45 (EDT)

__ __ __ __ Brian S -:- Its a very humble philosopy -:- Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 14:30:36 (EDT)

__ berni -:- Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 06:28:43 (EDT)

__ __ Susannah -:- We Were Young, Bernie -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 19:16:07 (EDT)

__ __ __ Pat:C) -:- dear Mark Twain -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:39:32 (EDT)

__ __ Chuck S. -:- Today's cult same, different packaging... -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:25:29 (EDT)

__ __ __ berni -:- Re: Today's cult same, different packaging... -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 17:04:45 (EDT)

__ __ Pat:C) -:- I should have read your post first, berni -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:25:51 (EDT)

__ __ __ berni -:- s'okay Pat -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:50:31 (EDT)

__ __ __ __ Susannah -:- Recovering our MINDS -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 19:24:30 (EDT)

__ __ __ __ __ Chuck S. -:- In New Premiespeak, Mind='Doubt Maker' -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 21:45:04 (EDT)

__ __ salam -:- Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis -:- Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 09:17:59 (EDT)

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 04:46:27 (EDT)
From: Jean-Michel
Email: None
To: All
Subject: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

What's Behind the 15-Year-Old Guru Maharaj Ji?

by Gail Winder and Carol Horowitz
[ The Realist article, december 1973 ]

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 02:06:23 (EDT)
From: suchabanana
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: a cult classic sit-com!
Message:

...As the devotees settled on the floor, it was as though we were watching a rock star paying a surprise visit to his fans. There was excitement in the air and everything in the office came to a standstill the moment Mahatma Ji entered the room. And there we were, face to face with one of the Holy Men, who was obviously enjoying all the attention he was getting.

When Billy White told the honored guest that we were from the media, his eyes lit up and he looked as if he wanted us to ask him some questions. In the course of our short interview with Mahatma Ji, he told us that he had been a follower of Guru Maharaj Ji for four years, and that he had been an engineer in India before that.

The conversation got around to politics when we asked the mahatma and the assembled premies what their position was on the war in Indochina. His reply was that they did not support either side, since the Guru teaches us that war is wrong and that the love of Guru Maharaj Ji is the only way to procure peace.
We asked if that meant that D.L. M. does not support the right of the Indochinese people to self-defense against American aggression. The answer was no (that was an irrelevant question).

Testing how far they were willing to go, we asked, 'What if B52's are above you, dropping bombs on your homes, schools, children and everything you know and love is being destroyed, what then?' The group smiles (another irrelevant question). 'Well, then, far out! It doesn't matter!'

Even though we half expected something like this, we couldn't quite believe what we had just heard, and couldn't quite control the anger and frustration boiling up inside. So that was the end of our interview with the mahatma and his admirers.

As we made our exit, two men from the office followed us out onto the street. They wanted to give us some more Satsang, and couldn't understand why we were angry and upset. One of the men was genuinely confused, and wanted to smooth things out and make us feel better. The other stood there mocking us, grinning and staring and full of hate.

Suddenly I lost control and started screaming that they were robots, incapable of understanding or displaying any human emotions or reactions. Smack! Everett (the one with the evil eye) hit me in the face with a roll of posters (of the Guru, no doubt) he was carrying. 'That's reaction,' was his only explanation.

As more and more premies filtered out into the street to see what was happening, we confronted them with what had just occurred, and waited to see what their reactions would be. The mahatma's only response to the incident was, 'Well, nobody's perfect - he just hasn't meditated on the Knowledge enough yet.'...

...The Guru is daddy, the premies are his children, and all the authoritarianism implied in that structure is present, only worse, since the daddy is also god and never makes a mistake. Mindlessness is the goal for premies to strive for. As Rennie put it in an interview with Ken Kelley, 'I just surrendered my mind completely to Guru Maharaj Ji and said 'No more - from here on out you do the thinking and I'll do the listening.' '

Not only are the premies seen as children, they are also machines that only the Guru knows how to operate:

'The mind has an automatic acceleration on it and you can't control it. Only one man can control it, the man who built it, who mastered it, who is a doctor on it! Only He knows how to find the acceleration screw so he can loosen it up and take it out, so that the proportions of the mixture will be set properly.
I'll tell you what is wrong with people's brains today. See in the carburetor there are two screws ...' miragey

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 23:25:20 (EDT)
From: Disculta
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Incredible, but, but, but...
Message:

I really didn't get the 'racist' thing that the authors were saying. They quoted an article from And It Is Divine, and the impression I got, and which I vaguely remember, is that the point of the article was: 'look what bullshit science can be used to prove.' I'm SURE that the point of the AIID article wasn't that 'negroes are inferior.' I was pretty much a spiritually subdued radical leftist, and I used to read AIID from cover to cover, and if that had been the point, I would have freaked out. I'm not saying that I might not have found some divine rationalization... but no! I was pretty feisty about such things the whole time I was a full-time devotee (while simultaneously trying to be what I thought MJ wanted - this was a double-binding mind-fuck!).

I don't believe that the near-fascist interpretation of that statement from AIID was accurate. But there was an unbelievably toxic belief system prevailing, which this article really lit up for me again. Gawd, that stuff about women always used to drive me nuts. I remember there was a woman named Gita who was a big cheese in South America, and she got a bit out of control, and MJ was reported to have said, 'That's the last time I have a woman in a position of power,' or some such stuff.

Anybody remember the AIID article? It's just that I think that if we make or seem to be buying into inaccurate accusations, the central truth of the real objections is weakened.

love Disculta

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 23:55:49 (EDT)
From: Jim
Email: None
To: Disculta
Subject: No, the article really did say that
Message:

I distinctly remember the article. It was about an elder in the Ku Klux Klan. He was talking about that bible prophecy about a little coloured boy from the east gonna come and lead us and everything. His point was that just proved how stupid it was to believe anything in that old testament, the jew one.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 00:46:04 (EDT)
From: Disculta
Email: None
To: Jim
Subject: Re: No, the article really did say that
Message:

Jeez!

But the point of the article wasn't that the article writer was saying that 'negroes are inferior' then. Weren't they kind of lampooning the Klu Klux Klan guy and the scientist for their ignorance?

It would be fascinating to read some old AIIDs.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 00:56:22 (EDT)
From: Jim
Email: None
To: Disculta
Subject: Sorry
Message:

I was just kidding. You remember all those other 'elder' articles? Elder this, elder that.

No, don't remember nothin' 'bout no NEEgroe's.

But I agree with you that the cult was hardly racist. We all thought we were liquid Guru Maharaj Ji in different bottles, after all. Just weren't that many blacks into it, for whatever reason. Probably just like there weren't all that many black hippies, I guess. Some but not even equally represented per capita compared to the general population. The Realist had its own axe to grind which it did on any surface it could find. Otherwise the article's good though.

And yes, aint' it the truth that it would have had no impact whatsoever on us cult members. I wonder, though, what if the article mentioned, amongst other things, stuff like X-rating and vehicular homicides? Alas, we'll never know.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:12:32 (EDT)
From: Susannah
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

WOW!
That article was written 5 months after I 'received knowlege'. But I doubt it would have made any impression on me then.

What really tweaked my memory was the mention of the sea of white faces in the satsangs. I also rarely met anyone over the age of 30. HMMM...let's see, could this have been a planned target for the 'ministry of Mr.Rawat'? Young, impressionable, spoiled, moneyed, idle and rebellious youth, freshly hatched out of college dorms and a steady diet of mind expanding drugs.

Yes I remember the catchy slogan, 'I want the knowlege you can't get in college'. I wonder how many people dropped out of college because of their involvement with DLM.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:15:55 (EDT)
From: Peg
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

When I was in the ashram I we were interviewed by a reporter for some local paper. We all (this is how i remember it) thought that it had gone well and eagerly awaited the publication.

What came out must have been along the lines of that article. The thing that amazes me, reading it now is that at the time my only reaction was disgust at the biased way they had presented our 'sincere truth', I cannot remember a single twinge of doubt. I am not only embarrassed but totally horrified to have been so ...??? BRAINWASHED. It seem to remember saying as I spoke to people on street corners that 'Yes I am brainwashed, but we need to be...!!!'

This is the scary part of realising it was such a cult..If I could be that taken in how can I ever trust myself again?

Thanks Jean Michel.

Peg

ps Someone quoted you as saying they had low frequency equipment at programs to create alpha waves or something. Is that right? Do they always have them or just once? Love to know the answer to that.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:44:40 (EDT)
From: berni
Email: None
To: Peg
Subject: Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

Hi Peg, I know what you mean when you say 'at the time my only reaction was disgust at the biased way they had presented our 'sincere truth', I cannot remember a single twinge of doubt.

that is how we felt, if we were any sort of loyal, sincere premie at all. The thing is, even though I do feel it, we shouldn't be embarressed by it too much. We were being true to our feelings and trying to help those unfortunate fellow humans that did not have the knowledge. Trying to show them that all their troubles and worries were easily overcome by joining our happy band.
I mean, if you discovered the cure to cancer, it would be your duty to propogate the information as vigorously as you could. That's what we tried to do - even though we were wrong in our asssumptions that practicing the knowledge would solve all.
What sometimes niggles me these days is the lack of commitment of some of the premies. Statements like 'it's not for everybody' and 'if you don't like it you don't have to stick with it' go against all that we were told it was - i.e. universal truth, not a matter of taste. So don't feel bad about trying your best to pass on what you thought was the best thing for all humanity.
However, I do relate and empathise with your statement 'If I could be that taken in how can I ever trust myself again? '
I think I suffer from this also and, although I do tend to get carried away sometimes, I am always wary of communicating my opinions ( however well intentioned ) on others - even when it seems to me the best way of helping them. I don't trust my ability to judge situations or people as well as I used to. Perhaps something to do with getting older but certainly not helped by being let down by the promise of 'satchitanand'.
best wishes
berni

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:44:02 (EDT)
From: Jean-Michel
Email: None
To: Peg
Subject: Hypnotic videos/music
Message:

Did you watch those darshan videos in India, slow motion and hypnotic music composed by Rawat a few years back ?

That's what I was referring to. This is a common trick used by many groups, and if the level is low enough, you can mix it with any music and nobody will ever notice. I'm almost sur he's using that trick, because I can't find any other reason why some of those 'special videos' never publicly released were 'so powerful' ...... He can mix and edit the sound himself in his studio, and nobody will know. I bet he does.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:31:54 (EDT)
From: Brian S
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Powerful Stuff, Jean-Michel
Message:

How could I have been so blind to the obvious truths that are pointed out so clearly here? I witnessed and was a party to so many of the similar convoluted attitudes and like events covered in this piece. My lament today is why didn't I see what a crock of shit the cult was then? Was I that far gone? the answer is an embarrassed yes.

I was even one of the types who would argue with reasonable people when confronted with candid questions about the cult and guru. I was heavily under the ether of cult brainwashing, Wow, this article just made me realize how far gone I was, it just hit me like a ton of bricks.

Reading this review is a lot like looking back into a crystal ball and seeing my future unfold before me. I am sorry that it took so long to realize what is so simply stated so long ago by these reporters from the Realist, Gail Winder and Carol Horowitz.

Brian the converted realist ...

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:18:44 (EDT)
From: Pat:C)
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: It could almost have been written yesterday
Message:

Thanks, Jean-Michel. That was most embarassing to read. I kept wondering why I wasn't asking the same questions as the authors were 28 years ago. They were radical left and so was I at the time. I guess I wanted the bliss so much that I was willing to overlook the ''reactionary'' immorality of the cult. I especially liked the following passages:

Later that night in Boulder we interviewed Sheldon Jaffe, the director of Divine Sales (D. L. M.'s chain of 16 thrift stores-one of their sources of 'green energy'). Sheldon was typical of many premies we talked to: overweight, pale and twitchy, he clearly gets a lot out of being a 'heavy' in the organization. He said he was alienated, unsatisfied and unhappy before joining up with the forces of Guru Maharaj Ji. Now, he told us, he gets to fly all over the country as National Director of Divine Sales, and attend Board of Directors meetings.

Dear Sheldon. That could have been written yesterday. He's still twitching today. And this epitomises some throughly modern PWKs as well:

Testing how far they were willing to go, we asked, 'What if B52's are above you, dropping bombs on your homes, schools, children and everything you know and love is being destroyed, what then?' The group smiles (another irrelevant question). 'Well, then, far out! It doesn't matter!'

And this passage describes exactly the mentality behind the CAC attack:

As we made our exit, two men from the office followed us out onto the street. They wanted to give us some more Satsang, and couldn't understand why we were angry and upset. One of the men was genuinely confused, and wanted to smooth things out and make us feel better. The other stood there mocking us, grinning and staring and full of hate.

Suddenly I lost control and started screaming that they were robots, incapable of understanding or displaying any human emotions or reactions. Smack! Everett (the one with the evil eye) hit me in the face with a roll of posters (of the Guru, no doubt) he was carrying. 'That's reaction,' was his only explanation.

I guess the penance that I will do for the rest of my life for the sin of ever supporting this disgusting cult is that I will always be embarassed and ashamed of my involvement with it.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:44:42 (EDT)
From: Brian S
Email: None
To: Pat:C)
Subject: My sentiments exactly Pat
Message:

Emabarrased is about a close a term as I can come up with to describe what I felt reading this post. I was floored, just bowled over this morning realizing how duped and deaded I was to the reality of what was going on.

I really did think I was that far in and information like this shows me how lucky I was to escape.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 09:22:22 (EDT)
From: Jean-Michel
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Another article in the same issue
Message:

This Little Nipple Went to an Indian Sweat Lodge

By Teenie Weenie Deanie

I had been anticipating the sweat lodge for quite a few months. Dale had asked me sometime in the fall if I wanted to travel with him the next time he visited Raymond, a Shoshone medicine man who lived somewhere in Wyoming. Sure, I had replied . . . I mean, the way Dale talked about this guy made it sound too good to pass up; 'Probably a stronger power than don Juan,' the now famous Mexican sorcerer.
I had read the books about don Juan, had experimented with some of the same drugs he used in his rituals, and was familiar with much of his symbology, through direct experience. But I had never met anyone who had those kinds of powers. I was really eager to make the trip.
'Maybe I'll be changed into a swallow . . . 'A typical cynical response. Dale talks about the eagle who appears during the sweat. Sure, man, an eagle. But of course I don't completely doubt him. Maybe, who knows. Dale tells me later than I am the first friend of his who has accepted his offer to go there. Too much hocus pocus for the average john. (I am, of course, a most different fellow.)
For the next few months I kept bringing up the subject of the sweat lodge to Dale, and he always said that it would happen real soon. But I was ready to go every time I asked. I didn't quite realize just how serious Dale was about this place and this Indian man, that he wasn't up to making the trip until there was some real reason to go.
My fantasies were growing larger all the time, the image of this terribly hot sweat lodge where one had to give up oneself to the heat or cry to be let out, where a great medicine man could read my mind and heal my soul. Where the great spirits of the American. lindens lived and breathed as humans . . . and on and on. 'Let's go, man!'
We flew from San Francisco to Salt Lake, where we were going to meet Eric Short, a Cree Indian from Canada, who would take us to the sweat lodge 'under his own pipe.' Eric is a young ex-alcoholic working with Indian drinking problems, and an up-and-coming medicine man in his own right. He works with Dale, and had set up the trip to Wyoming. Jerry, another co-worker with Dale, had decided to come also, so there were four of us climbing into the rented car to make the 350-mile drive to Raymond's place.
It was obvious to me that there were four different people making this trip . . . Dale was wound up with his problems, very quiet and sort of removed; and Jerry seemed also to be on his very own trip. Between the four of us, not much happened on the way there. A cold beginning, I kept thinking.
What exactly am I doing here? I really don't know these people, and maybe I made a big mistake coming on their trip. But those kinds of thoughts weren't coming too often to bug me. I was ready for whatever, and just hoped it wasn't going to be more than I could handle . . . I was pretty sure that there wouldn't be much support from my companions if I needed it, we were all too strongly on our own trips to be of much help to anyone else.
Very late that night we rented a motel a few miles from the place, in one of those western towns were everyone is drunk on the streets after 10 p.m. The kids were cruising the main street, flashing the 'V' sign, and the cops were busy busting a loud tavern full of Indians.
Where we are going is actually on the Indian reservation, but this town is not, and it is here that the white man still puts his funny trips on the Indians . . . buy this, drink this, need this.
I was not feeling in the best of spirits when I went to sleep that evening, especially after a long talk with Eric: A total complete male chauvinist pig; 'All I really want is coffee when I get up and my shirt to be ironed. If I can't get that, I look for a new chick.' Wait a minute, I said to myself, is this man going to be a holy man for his fellow Indians?
He can hardly see anything of just about everything I consider to be most holy . . . freedom, individual rights, and an end to the 'Mr. Clean' era of freshly-ironed minds. 'Let's be natural' is my motto . . . and I had always thought that the Indians were the essence of Mr. Natural. What is going on here? My cynical paranoia, always passing judgment.
The morning found us all more relaxed, getting' excited about the coming sweat. We hung around town until early afternoon, buying lots of food at the local Safeway for a big feast that evening . . . we bring the vitals and they provide the fixing.
It was clouding up and threatened snow. A very strange town, cowboys and Indians, new Ford pickups and Marlboro smokes. Real Men. And me, one of those long-hair fairy pinkos from out of state. I was really feeling like an uptown hipster by the time we left for Raymond's farm. These people were so poor, and lived in such terrible houses.
And the drive into the reservation didn't get much better. New Fords for driving down Main Street, and lowly shacks to keep out the Winter cold. And it was really getting cold. The road turned from blacktop to gravel, and then to dirt and mud. Ahead was a small house, two trailers, some funky shacks and a camper that fit the back of the pickup . . . this was Raymond's place . . . and there was the brand new Ford pickup.
'Oh boy,' I thought, 'are we in for it.'
But no one else seemed to feel my uneasiness, and we walked into the house totally unannounced. Through a functional kitchen and into a small living room with a giant color television blaring out some football weirdness to some very funky-looking people. A toothless man with one of those gray mechanic hats and hip very toothless wife, I supposed, sitting together glued to the TV. Sure enough, Raymond and his wife.
This was even more than I had hoped for. Here was Mr. Funky and his fat wife . . . and then the kids started coming though, and I had to stand up and shake hands with each one, so formal and tense, so unlike I had imagined this 'don Juan' to be. I really wasn't quite sure what I had imagined, but it wasn't this . . . and his children. so many of them for such a small house. And the pictures of the high-school graduations on the walls. I somehow felt like this man had completely copped out to the forces of his white conquerors. But not for long.
Never had I seen a man so gentle with his children, yet so firm. And such a warm smile. In fact, he always had on a smile. In fact, he was always laughing. And so was his wife. She soon became one of the warmest people I had ever met. She had 14 children, and 11 grandchildren, many adopted, and all from different Indian nations. She had a child from just about every tribe I had heard of, and they quickly accepted me into their company and had me outside playing basketball in the snow.
I was starting to get high, from such open people.
Inside, we had met four of Raymond's daughters, very plain-looking women starting to put on weight, all in their teens and twenties, full of giggles and very shy. Soon they were out playing basketball too, and we were really moving that ball around. Everyone was so friendly (the best word I can think of) and really into playing.
Raymond came out and walked over to a funny-looking tent affair not too far from the house . . . this was the sweat lodge, about 12 feet in diameter, and about 4 feet high, covered with old tarps and tents, very funky, very fitting with the rest of the farm.
Raymond started chopping wood and building a big fire at one end of the lodge. I started taking pictures of everything, and he couldn't believe it, that someone would want to take his photo. But he told me not to take any of the lodge; it wasn't allowed. My firs hit of a mystical presence.
Pretty soon he piled large pieces of volcanic rock on the fire, and more wood on top of them, and we all stood around the fire trying to keep warm. I understood why they played such vigorous basketball, just to keep warm. Looking around the horizon, it sure was beautiful, open land for as far as you could see, horses turned against the cold wind and snow off in the distance.
I started to realize that this was the traditional homeland for these people for centuries. It was their land, always had been. I was a visitor from the United States. They were real goddamned Indians, and they weren't drunk like most of the ones I had contact with before. And they were really honestly friendly, not trying to hustle me for a quarter for more wine, and they were having me as a guest at their very important ritual, the sweat.
The sweat: It is the purifier, the medium which brings the four elements of the universe - earth, air, fire and water -together so that we can pray for help from these forces, can pay our respects to them all at once. I was really beginning to feel something very large happening here.
Soon some of the teenaged boys came running through the snow in swimming suits, and stood by the fire to keep warm. It was almost time for the sweat to begin. On the way to change into our suits, we three white men from the West Coast stopped individually to spend a moment with Raymond, to try and tell him why we had come to the sweat, what we wanted from the spirits of the sweat.
I told him that I wanted my heart to be opened, for a better understanding of my heart and its power with my mind. He no longer looked like the ex-alcoholic toothless funny old man. When I spoke to him I was speaking to an ageless spirit, his eyes were so deep and his feeling so real, no joking around, a serious moment for both of us.
That finished, we hurried to a small cabin to undress and then ran through the icy wind and snow back to the fire. And we waited for quite some time, a bunch of almost naked men and boys around a fire, laughing and joking and really feeling good. I really felt good. And I kept saying to myself, 'I am getting high, brother.' And Dale and Jerry and I were starting to feel closer, to share longer moments of eye contact, and a knowing smile that all was so nice.
Soon Raymond came, and we followed him into the lodge; I had to squat down to walk around in it to the spot Raymond pointed out for me, around a deep pit in the center, I guessed, for the hot rocks. The inside of this place blew my mind. It was beautiful, willow branches woven into a frame, beautiful material covering it, and various little sacks and pieces of leather hanging from the wood.
Soon the men and boys were in, and it was only half filled. The young kids were laughing at us, telling us how hot it was going to get. 'You must be crazy to come to such a hot place,' Raymond piped in, starting to laugh again. Soon all the women and their babies started to come in, and it filled up.
I was sitting across from those daughters, and somehow they looked different to me. I realized that I was just being much more accepting of them, that I was no longer looking just at the physical, and was beginning to feel the real person inside the body. They were very real ladies, and it felt good to have them sitting with us.
Raymond's wife spoke to us about the sweat, what to do if it got too hot, and how to use the stalks of sage we had picked up on the way in. Someone brought the rocks in, and I was ready. I couldn't imagine how hot they were talking about, I had been in many saunas before, but I wrapped my bare shoulders in a towel just in case, to keep off the steam. The flaps were closed, just as she was telling us that if it got too hot, start to pray for everyone in the lodge.
We were packed in like sardines, the walls of the lodge up against our backs, the fire pit about a foot in front. Total darkness, very quiet; I could hear some water being thrown on the rocks 'Hiisssssss . . . 'and soon the heat began. The steam rose from the rocks, and flowed across the roof of the lodge and down the backs of the participants . . . it was hot, but it felt good.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched voice penetrating the darkness, one of the sons was singing 'Hey Hey Yeh Yeh Hey. . .'and soon some of the women were joining in, and pretty soon I was singing some Hindu prayer I knew. The singing took my mind off the heat.
More water, more steam, hard to breathe. Louder singing, such sweet sounds. Suck harmony I had never heard before.
And more water, sounded like a whole bucket, and for a moment the heat was too hot to bear. But just at that moment Raymond yelled something in his Indian language, and the flaps were thrown open, at both ends, and the cool air from the outside rushed through the lodge. I was sweating profusely, and so were Jerry and Dale, sitting to my right, Eric to my left was just smiling, and I realized that I was too, grinning ear to ear.
Everyone was smiling, and there hadn't been one sound of displeasure from any of the infants wrapped up in the arms of the women. I felt incredible, the sweats were supposed to last for four minutes, with a four-minute break, for four times. But time seemed to stop, it was not important. Soon the flaps were closed again.
More water, more heat, and such beautiful singing. I was praying for Raymond and his wife, and their beautiful children, and my friends, and the shrill whistle that penetrated the air didn't seem unusual with all the singing. This time the final bucket of water was so hot that I fell forward to find cooler air to breathe; just as I was falling the flaps were again thrown open. Such relief, such perfect timing . . . Raymond, you are too much.
This time as I gazed with a broad smile across at the women, I saw such beauty in womanhood sitting in front of me as I had never seen before. Here, sitting with me, seemed to be the ideal image of a woman, full of such peace and countenance, warm dark eyes full of earth, and it almost seemed that these ladies were growing right out of the earth. I was completely overcome with such a love for these people, my body was filled with their spirit.
Raymond prepared a large pipe with tobacco, smoked some and then passed it around to each participant. It was a small ritual, but it strengthened the bond between all of us; we were all sharing the same pipe, the same space. Then darkness, the flaps were closed again.
The third sweat was totally timeless. It could have lasted for hours, I was so high and praying like I had never prayed before. I was laughing and singing, yelling, trying to harmonize with the Indian songs, never quite making it, but it didn't matter. Even the heat was singing, and the lodge was filled with the sound of people slapping themselves . . . Raymond's wife had said earlier that if it got too hot, just slap where it was hot. I tried it, and the heat seemed to get worse. Must be something the Indians know how to do that I don't.
I was spinning in joy when the flaps were opened for the third time. The women came from the universe, and their children, their children were the most beautiful I had ever seen, so light, so joyful. Raymond turned to us and said that the spirit had spoken to him, and had told him that all of our prayers would definitely be answered, if only we would be good. We felt so good, the spirit had come, everyone was so happy.
It was only much later that someone told me the spirit had entered during the second sweat, and that he had blown his own loud whistle upon entering. The whistle . . . no one in the lodge had a whistle, who could have blown it? I know now that it was the spirit.
Darkness again, for the last sweat. I started to sing, but soon realized that I was being drawn to chant a mantra I had learned from the Maharishi Mahesh, one that I had used daily for over six years. I was going into deep meditation, transcending the heat and the darkness.
There was a strange noise to my left, the sound of a bird flapping its wings, and just then I felt the wing of a large bird rub up against my mouth and around my face. 'Far out,' I said, 'I just got rubbed by a bird . . . ' And then it flew on to my right. More chanting of my mantra, more heat, more incredible singing, such a sound, I could hardly believe it was really human.
Then I thought to myself, wait a minute, what is a bird doing in this place? How did it get in? It wasn't possible for anyone to be running around inside, there just wasn't enough room. And before I knew it, the flaps were opened for the last time. I turned to Jerry, who was next to me on my right. He was wiping the weirdest-looking stuff off of his forehead, almost looked like the stuff you blow out of your nose. But coming from his forehead. And his forehead had a bright red line running across it.
Everyone was so high, hard to believe. Slowly we filed out of the lodge, to the left of a mound of dirt at the opening with an animal's skull sitting on top, everyone laughing and oblivious to the falling snow. Dale, Jerry, Eric and I walked slowly the 200 yard to the cabin, the snow melting as it hit our skin.
As we dressed I asked Dale if he felt a bird flying around in the lodge, and he laughed at me. 'Man, that was an eagle.' I told him how the bird had rubbed up against my mouth. 'Maybe he was telling you something old buddy.' More laughter by everyone. and I said, 'Maybe I use my mouth too much.' I spoke the truth.
Dale said that the eagle had stopped in front of him and had blown cool air into his face. And once before the bird had only appeared to Raymond's wife, and he had heard her praying and thanking the spirit for visiting her. By the time we were dressed we were in that blissful place so desired yet so seldom experienced during life, and we all knew it. We marveled at how high we felt, how beautiful everything was, and on and on.
Back inside Raymond's house a giant banquet was waiting lot us, fried chicken, roast beef and all the goodies we had brought from town. What a feast, the whole family sitting together at the table. Clyde, the 10-year-old, finished first, and sprang up to a chalk board behind the table. He wrote 'Love is happiness. Some bring it by coming and some bring it by leaving.' And then lie laughed, having put in his two-cents-worth.
We literally floated through dinner, agreed that we felt good enough to try and make the drive back to Salt Lake, said many, goodbyes to these warm people, and set off from this Indian household late at night, in a driving snowstorm, for the trip back.
Eric drove us through and over a most incredible snow-covered road. In fact, there was no road to see, and the falling snow seemed like strobe lights hitting the windshield. We passed over an h000-foot pass, totally dangerous, without a hitch . . . we all knew that nothing could go wrong. We had the power, whatever it wat .
Back to Salt Lake for a few hours of sleep, and then we caught an early morning plane to San Francisco. Into a car and on the freeway to our homes in Santa Cruz . . . Man, I had sat with an eagle. We had all sat with an eagle, and we knew it, and what does it mean? I hope to sit with an eagle again.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:35:35 (EDT)
From: Brian S
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: I have done several Indian
Message:

Sweat ceremonies, and a spirit quest, where I went out into the woods alone without food for a week.

I had powerful experiences compacted into in a few minutes and days even more so than I did from years of practicing the knowledge. None of which lends credence to either of the two as a suggested spiritual path, cause and effect might be a better example of why I experienced what I did.

It bears asking the question, what is all of this talk about spirit? it seems that deprivation on the one hand, (fasting) and physical assault on the other (extreme exposure to heat) sets up a unique sensory experience that blows the ordinary funtional mind . You want to run away from the heat, but you don't, and you want to eat but you don't either. You endure the discomfort and your ordinary mind aborts. You are taken outside of your comfort zone with no guidelines and the insuing experience is often interpreted as something outside of yourself
like a spirit, a higher power etc. If the proper indoctrination is in place beforehand, that concept will be there to capture your thoughts and vision and that is what you will gravitate towards.

I was told that the grandfather spirit would enter the sweat lodge, and by group agreement that is what we were sure had happened afterwards.

I was told that god was on this planet, now this was a movement that I could really get behind and by golly, we set about doing what we had to do to produce this result through our thoughts and actions. And this is what I conditioned myself to experiencing, a false concept that lasted for years.

None of those concepts about M pertains to me today. Except at the time I acted on them as if those very concepts and M were real, and I got back out of it an experience that I 'thought' was real. Now that I see what a farce it all is, I also see that I can have what I want for myself spiritually (for lack of a better term) and I can fill in my own blanks.

I now choose to work with a blank canvas inside of myself, each day I paint a new picture according to my actions and words, and I am free to make such decisions accordingly as long as they are ethical, honest and cause no harm to anyone. This is a basic analogy of my sense of freedom so don't take it literally please, there is no imaginary Brian busy inside working away with a paint brush.

I now see that my reasons back then for buying into the cult was a result of my being accessable due to my vulnerability to the influences that presented themselves as a higher authority.

I had nothing to go on, I was venturing into strange territory, where PWK's and mahatma's reigned, I was out of my comfort zone, giving up my concepts. Now I realize that I was just taking on someone else's beliefs and concepts, and where is the spiritual knowlegde in all of this? I was supposed to be escaping concepts, not taking on more, sheesh.

It turns out as I progress in my exiting process that the choice was always within me, and I realized where I had been remiss when I relenquished my power to discern where I began and where the spiritual influences, or concepts left off. It is an entanglement that many may never escape, I consider myself one of the lucky ones.

The difference for me today is that I am a complete package as far as my needs for spiritual enlightenment are concerned. I can fill my own cup from my own source and I do not require or need a master telling me how to satisfy myself or dog me down.

I don't think that anyone does

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:29:50 (EDT)
From: Pat:C)
Email: None
To: Brian S
Subject: ***BEST OF....*** Brilliant, Brian
Message:

I see more everyday that I actually brainwashed myself because I wanted so desperately to believe that the reincarnation of Jesus would bring peace into this world.

Yes, I prefer the blank canvas approach nowadays too. I feel like a teen again - open to learning new stuff and not having to fit it into some preconceived framework.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:17:45 (EDT)
From: Chuck S.
Email: None
To: Brian S
Subject: You explained that really well...
Message:

Recieving Knowledge WAS like steping out of one's comfort zone, letting go of ones concepts, and all the while being told that Knowledge and Maharaji were NOT about concepts, but about feeling and experience. And when the M and K concepts just crept in anyway, and you spotted them, it was your ''mind'' or the ''doubtmaker''. It could be so subtle, I wasn't even aware of it happening. Then before you know it, it's ''Leave no room for doubt in your mind, because you don't want to lose that nice feeling, do you? So leave no room for doubt in your mind, be grateful, hang on to That Experience, and write a check to support M in his work... you DO want to help M spread this Knowedge, don't you?''

Thanks for comparing it to the Indian sweatlodge thing, I had always wondered what that was all about. The way you described it makes sense. At least the Indians didn't ask for a Malibu Mansion and private jet, eh? ;)

Oh, and I especially liked the part about ''...I also see that I can have what I want for myself spiritually (for lack of a better term) and I can fill in my own blanks.'' It's very freeing to realize that, that you can have that WITHOUT the Goober.

Your whole post was very clear - Thanks!

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Wed, Oct 10, 2001 at 14:30:36 (EDT)
From: Brian S
Email: None
To: Chuck S.
Subject: Its a very humble philosopy
Message:

> Thanks for comparing it to the Indian sweatlodge thing, I had always wondered what that was all about. The way you described it makes sense. At least the Indians didn't ask for a Malibu Mansion and private jet, eh?

No, the American Indians only asked that you take care of the Mother Earth, be ecologically conscious, walk the red road in life, ('do unto others as you would have them do unto you') don't take the black road, (participate in evil, dishonest deeds ) appreciate all things on the planet from the rocks and stones at your feet to your very life source itself and respect the life of everything in between. Even the rocks, and water have life according to the Indians.

Just a good simple philosopy, no collection plate passed just contribute your small part individually to make the world a better place to live.

They have their boogeymen (evil spirits) and their messiah (grandfather spirit), but as far as religion goes, I would say this is one of the better ones.

I would rather sit in a sweat lodge than go to church anyday, at least in the sweat lodge I will open up my pores and purify my body.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 06:28:43 (EDT)
From: berni
Email: None
To: Jean-Michel
Subject: Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

Thanks Jean-Michel,
Brilliant article - but it is painfull to confront how foolish I/we were being on the side of the premies.
During the 70's, whilst many of my peers were trying, whether or not successfully, to do something about the real problems in the world through political activism, I was becoming a premie.
Maybe if I'd joined those politicos I would have, like a few did, gained a position of power and influence rather than being an unskilled, powerless member of the proletariat now too old to do much about becoming anything else, due to having wasted a quarter of a century pursuing mystical goals.
It's embarrassing to read the piece,as I remember someone outside the Astrodome festival trying to get me to read what I think was the same article, of course no premie would read such a thing and regarded all those who wrote or read such things as sad and dangerously lost in the illusion of their evil minds.
There are so many good parts but just to pick out one premie's answer to the criticisms made by the journalist...
As we made our exit, two men from the office followed us out onto the street. They wanted to give us some more Satsang, and couldn't understand why we were angry and upset. One of the men was genuinely confused, and wanted to smooth things out and make us feel better. The other stood there mocking us, grinning and staring and full of hate.
Suddenly I lost control and started screaming that they were robots, incapable of understanding or displaying any human emotions or reactions. Smack! Everett (the one with the evil eye) hit me in the face with a roll of posters (of the Guru, no doubt) he was carrying. 'That's reaction,' was his only explanation.

What is even more embarrasing, although I gradually came to realise it as I was going through the gradual process of deprogramming myself, is that the whole thing was such a conservative, right-wing, even racist movement founded on mind control and emotional manipulation rather than the more sane approach of rational debate.
Oh well
berni

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 19:16:07 (EDT)
From: Susannah
Email: None
To: berni
Subject: We Were Young, Bernie
Message:

I don't know about you, but I did all kinds of dumb things as a youth. It is called IMMATURITY. We must forgive ourselves and try to laugh a little bit about our folly
---
and be thankful that we are wiser now.

It is an evil thing to take advantage of the young, for they do not have the proper defences and life experience to know that they are being had. You can tell a little child anything and he's likely to believe it. An 18 year old is not much different.

What did we have to compare this thing with? Only our upbringing, which many of us were so eager to abandon, that it made us vulnerable. It is called REBELLION. So we were immature and rebellious
---
let's get on with it now that we see the big picture!

I NO LONGER: ride motercycles at 120 mph, have intimacy with everyone I meet, wear miniskirts and tube tops, insist that the whole world be vegetarian, drive a beat up Volkswagon, decorate my home with Indian tapestries, think that soybeans are going to save the world, make my own tofu, believe that the third world is where it's at, and think my parents were terribly stupid.

It's embarrassing to admit that I was the stupid one, but like Mark Twain observed, when he was 15 he thought his father to be the most ignorant person, but at 21 he was amazed at how smart his father had become in 6 years.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 22:39:32 (EDT)
From: Pat:C)
Email: None
To: Susannah
Subject: dear Mark Twain
Message:

Mark Twain observed, when he was 15 he thought his father to be the most ignorant person, but at 21 he was amazed at how smart his father had become in 6 years.

Now that man often made sense unlike Rev Rawat but of course, as Chuck and Brian pointed out, his holiness deliberately does not make sense in order to blow our minds and produce bliss.

I just love MT. Yes, we were young and rebelling against parents and society.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 16:25:29 (EDT)
From: Chuck S.
Email: None
To: berni
Subject: Today's cult same, different packaging...
Message:

Berni, the passage you quoted so well describes the CAC mentality we have so recently experienced. How little things have changed, in essence.

One of my favorite quotes was right at the begining: 'Before it ends, we will doubtless see decadence in many forms...' How prophetic! To some people it was obvious even then.

I got K in the early eighties, and much of this background stuff was unknown to me. I knew somethings about the Guru's wealth, but not the extent of it. The Knowledge Lite era had begun. The whole thing was being presented with a new spin. Reading so much about how it had been earlier on, explains to me SO MUCH. The begining contained the seeds of everything that came after.

Current PWK's claim that everything has changed so much. It would seem that the only thing's that have REALLY changed are that information is now better hidden than ever, and a new language and spin control is used to present M&K to new people as not a religion or a cult. It's now a slick indoctrination process, to accept M as a teacher, then a Master, then as You-Know-Who. The spin CONTROL is what I felt mostly, when I was last involved nine months ago. What they are calling propagation is pathetically awful. It's just about keeping the Goober and his family in the luxury they have become accustomed to having.

I'm sure we all have some misgivings for being involved for so long, like you expressed. Hopefully we have all learned from the exprience and can warn others by helping them recognize the manipulation, and also help others figure their way out of M's grand mind-fuck. I know that's the main reason I post here, and why I made the website Maharaji Watch, to give people as much information as possible. The lies of the cult don't hold up to scrutiny, and talking about our experiences on this forum helps bear witness to that. In that respect our unfortunate experiences can at lest help others. And we are out of the cult now - YIPPEE!!! Better late than never! I'm feeling more peace of mind and happiness than I've felt in years, without the Goober sitting on my neck. No one should have to sacrifice honesty in order to feel happy.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 17:04:45 (EDT)
From: berni
Email: None
To: Chuck S.
Subject: Re: Today's cult same, different packaging...
Message:

Hi Chuck,
Just wanted to say well done with your Maharaji Watch site.
Although I've visited before ( great collection of links ) this time I enjoyed the premie site 'Deradune' where I found out that we are infiltrated with extra-terrestrials. I think the good lady who hosts the site would get on great with David Icke - but don't anyone go there! It seems funny at first but after a few pages you start getting funny feelings :/
http://www.davidicke.com/icke/index1c.html
cheers
berni

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 14:25:51 (EDT)
From: Pat:C)
Email: None
To: berni
Subject: I should have read your post first, berni
Message:

You said almost exactly what I said and picked the same horrible passage. It really is embarassing to think we were so dumb.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 15:50:31 (EDT)
From: berni
Email: None
To: Pat:C)
Subject: s'okay Pat
Message:

great minds... and all that. At least now we recognise that our minds can be great rather than something to be ignored and avoided.
cheers
berni

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 19:24:30 (EDT)
From: Susannah
Email: None
To: berni
Subject: Recovering our MINDS
Message:

Yeah, what is so bad about having a MIND? I never understood that. All I could see is that when something did not jibe with the DLM party line and there was any questioning, either openly or inwardly, it was chalked up to THE MIND, and quickly discarded. One of the hallmarks of a cult is that you are required to check your brains at the door.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 21:45:04 (EDT)
From: Chuck S.
Email: None
To: Susannah
Subject: In New Premiespeak, Mind='Doubt Maker'
Message:

The latest fashion is to refer to the mind as 'the Doubtmaker'. You only need to be paranoid about the mind if you doubt the Master or His purity or his motives for what he wants. Having doubts about The Master can make you unhappy, so you shouldn't scrutinize anything he says or does if it's going to jeprodize 'That Experience'. M never said the mind was bad, we just misunderstood, or if he DID say it, he's evolved since then, and so should we, and throw away/destroy all those old tapes, videos, magazines and booklets where he says all those things that he never did say anyway ;)

Return to Index -:- Top of Index

Date: Tues, Oct 09, 2001 at 09:17:59 (EDT)
From: salam
Email: None
To: berni
Subject: Re: New article on EPO, worth reading analysis
Message:

great article. I always thought that DUO/DLM/EV was a racist organisation headed by an elite.

Return to Index -:- Top of Index