The Devils Lieutenants – An Occult Book
They are:
Aleister Crowley b. 12 Oct 1875, d. 1 Dec 1947
Jack Parsons b. 2 Oct 1942, d. 17 June 1952
L. Ron. Hubbard b. 13 Mar 1911, d. 24 Jan 1986
Charles Manson b. 12 Nov 1934, d. 19 Nov 2017
Aleister Crowley was listed by the BBC as one of the top 100 greatest Brits of all time in 2002 and frequently signed his letters 666. He headed the UK branch of OTO, Ordo Templi Orientis, and bent it to his own religion of Thelma. ‘Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the Law’ was his prime commandment.
He had lodges of followers of Thelma across the world among the occult.
Jack Parsons was the Head Priest of the west US OTO Agape Lodge and shared frequent correspondence with Crowely and contributed to him financially. Parsons was a founding member of the Jet Propulsion Lab and made considerable wealth developing rocket fuel. He is acknowledged as one of the unsung hero’s of the space race. HBO did a documentary on him titled ‘The Dark Angel’. He died in 1952 under mysterious circumstances.
Living with him at Agape Lodge in the late 1940s was L. Ron Hubbard.
Hubbard joined Parsons in his bohemian residence and black magick rituals. He then ran off with Parsons life savings and his wife’s younger sister, Sara Northrop. When Parsons pursued Hubbard in civil court, he was inclined to withdraw his case as Sara sent him a letter saying she would have him charged with rape for having underage sex with her (which Parsons had done). Hubbard went on to marry Sara, now of age. They created Dianetics and Scientology together.
One of the Scientology recruitment grounds is prisons, with their Cimininon program.
Charles Manson was a student of Hubbard’s while serving time inside during the 60s. He claimed to be a Scientology Clear and taught Scientology beliefs, alongside racist ones to his Manson Family followers, which was a cult he set up once released, using Hubbards teachings.
He infamously went on to orchestrate ritual stabbings of Hollywood’s elite, to try and trigger a race war in the US.
As the Lord seemingly works in mysterious ways, Satan does so to apparently.
Chapter 1: Parsons and Hubbard, 1946
Chapter 2: Crowley and OTO, 1946
Chapter 3: The Busisess Plan, 1946
Chapter 4: Crowley on Parsons and Hubbard, 1947
Chapter 5: Parsons Revenge, 1948
Chapter 6. Dianetics and Alexis, 1950
Chapter 7. Parsons Death, 1952
Chapter 8. Scientology and the Sea Org, 1967
Chapter 9. Charles Manson and Scientology, 1970s
Chapter 10. The Manson Family, 1980s
Chapter 11. The Worst Lieutenant, or Best.
‘Good is a point of view’ and ‘your focus determines your reality’
Chapter 1: Parsons and Hubbard, 1946
“No formal training in Magick he has an extraordinary amount of experience and understanding in the field. From some of his experiences I deduce he is direct touch with some higher intelligence, possibly his Guardian Angel. … He is the most Thelemic person I have ever met and is in complete accord with our own principles.” Parsons in a letter to Crowley about Hubbard in 1946.
“Come on, your telling me you will let me have sex with your wife?” Hubbard managed to not quite slur his words to Parsons.
“And her younger sister and the other women in the Lodge.” Parsons was hard at work recruiting Hubbard and had him on the hook, it was pussy he wanted and the younger the better. This would be easy. Hubbard had been published albeit he was being paid buttons for his work. But that was before the war. He was desperate now.
“Are they cute or dogs? And how is it up to you with the other chicks?”
“Come see.” He knew the effect they would have on him and they were well trained to.
“Your only condition is I’ve to practice this magick? Crowely’s not got a good name in the US Navy bud but you do have me curious And I am not adverse to the occult!” He was close to his drink limit and could survive one more round.
Parsons was used to this. He ran a bohemian house that also was what existed as the church of OTO for the US west coast. Like most authors of the SyFy golden age Hubbard showed tremendous insight into life and his Lodge needed such a recruit. The war had put him on his arse. But he was fighting!
“Listen, your just out of county jail, need somewhere to stay, replied to this ad to have a room at mine and can almost keep up with me in a bar, how souths it going to go?”
Hubbard finished his whisky and stood up to go to the bar, he put his hand out and Parson passed over the buck. The deal was made. Hubbard had no issue with being paid to be put up and drink while practising this magick and sex on tap.
Parsons had his man. Open to Thelma, smart, a ladies’ man no doubt, and nowhere to live while strapped for cash. He would own this Hubbard.
Hubbard took the cash. And decided he’d own this Parsons.
The night expired back at the Lodge with Parons regaling Hubbard of a time when he nearly blew up himself and a number of fellow students in the dorms of Cal Tech. Who were then latter not expelled but given a lab off campus and told to crack on.
Hubbard woke the next morning and headed downstairs to the kitchen of his new home once he managed to become alert again.
He had evidently not undressed to get into bed. Vague memories of Parsons pushing him into the room but falling on this bed came to mind.
The sun was blasting in the windows through unclosed curtains, there was no clock in the room and he’d not wound his watch yesterday. Close to noon his sailors mind said by the sun.
He swung his legs out of bed and aimed his feet at his shoes as he rubbed his head. He managed to push his feet into them and held his head in his hands for a minture. Tried to convince the headache to go and convinced himself it was succeeding.
‘You are greater than life, this is not you, you have done what you had to in order to survive. You are great and will be remembered forever.’ Ron ran the mantra through his head. Waking up somewhere new since the war always disturbed him, more than the hangover could.
He stood, cringed at the sun coming in the window, rubbed the worse creases out of his suit and put on his game face for the world. Again.
The room he’d been deposited in was the first one on the first floor just above the lounge/kitchen area at the back of the house. He walked down the slightly creaking steps trying to bring his cool on.
“Erm Hi good morning, I eh moved in last night. Sorry sore head, bit of an evening with Jack” He needed coffee.
“Helen, Jack’s wife. He told me about you before he went to work. He handles it better than you thanks to magick, is what he said to tell you. Coffee?”
“If you could.” great more about this magick.
He held his head in his hands on the breakfast counter and poured himself a water. She was filling the kettle and he noticed her lithe legs and long blond hair and no one could mistake that thin waist. He hoped Jack had been sincere with his offer.
“Sorry I should introduce myself, its Hubbard. L Ron Hubbard, my parents called me Lafette which I hate, so I go by Ron.” He extended his hand.
“I suppose your our next tenant” She shook his hand but let hers linger in his. Her cleavage mostly visible from her top. Her skirt was in line with post war fashion and ‘risque’ not even covering her knee’s.
“Milk? Sugar?” She crossed the kitchen to fix the coffee.
“Just black, thanks.” He took the proffered cup.
She went back to the morning paper and he let the coffee fumes from the cup rise into his nose and lift his head up so he could look out the window. The sun was shining and that had been some night with Jack, but this was good coffee . She was pretty. This could be worse.
“Sorry I should be more presentable, your husband I admit took the better of me last night, I assure it’s a rare thing!”
Helen looked up and he thought he detected boredom in her.
“You’ll get into the groove of things. Trust me.” She stabbed her cigarette out and left.
Hubbard took a sip, it coursed through him as a medicine clearing his head. He took some water to. Today would be hot and the sun would help.
He liked the vibe of this place “More Jews Settle in NY” was the headline on the article Helen had been reading of the LA Times. He had sensed a bit of reluctance in Jacks sympathy for them.
More to the point as she walked away he’d noticed the swap of her arse said she was begging for it… and Jack had said.
He took another sip of coffee as he walked out onto the porch. Pulled a Kools out and lit it.
The night before was still blasting through his head. He’d fallen asleep in an exhaustion of mental aerobatics. Crowely signed his letter 666 and OTO had been branded in the press as a sex cult which his parents would hardly approve of. Not that they approved much of anything about him lately.
The notion of going back to his wife since the war to him seemed like a hell worse than his tenure in the war.
He was not long out of the naval hospital. He’d had to wimp and moan to get his serviceman’s pension and out of the Navy since the war. He’d moaned about his eye infections and indigestion to get admitted to hospital but in the end they’d given him just a smidgen over unemployment when he left for his pension.
Nowhere near enough to keep him in somewhere to live and a dose of booze each day. Which since being in the war was a norm he could justify now. He knew to himself he didn’t give a shit, nothing would ignite him again. He was lost. Now what?
That’s how he’d met Parsons, he’d been caught stealing a bottle of whisky and ended up in the county jail over night. He’d got out after being up to court and given a fine and gone to the pub. He had $26 on account and picked up the local paper in the bar.
Through looking for a room to rent he’d come on Jacks ad and after a long call and even longer night, was now here.
Hubbard heard her come down the stairs … and wow!! He would barely see more if she’d been naked. Like underwear hussy galore shit, this one.
She seen him and marched out onto the porch hoping the neighbors would see.
“O, hi there you lovely thing, you look pretty. Bit of a late riser I see, as am I. My name is L Ron Hubbard but please call me just Ron.”
“It’s Sara. Hellooo Mr. El Rondo, sir.” She said with an impish grin. Her manner was groggy from just waking but with the husky voice of a female smoker which Hubbard found sexy.
She shook the proffered hand in hers. which he shook ever so gently and for the first time in a while was not left with a lingering hand being held and an awkward stare to confront.
He simply went back to puffing his ciggy and staring off into the horizon of the pacific.
He said nothing just puffed on his cig like he as if she wasn’t even there. She wondered what games they’d end up getting up to.
Then went back in to get herself some food. He never seemed to notice her leave.
He wondered what he would have to do to own her. All he had to do was be a bit stand offish but approachable and of course grant her beingness, always got ya into the female psyche and under their skin. But how to make them totally obedient, now that was the challenge.
Eventually he returned to his room to masturbate, hopefully able to come this time. He would try do it thinking about taking Sara up the arse. She looked younger than her 21 years.
Again after an exhaustive amount of effort he gave up. Took his Remington out of his suit case and set it up on his table. He had to conquer this.
He decided to start another Affirmation for himself and loaded a sheet of paper.
“I shall stop attempting to masturbate, my parents were right and it is wrong” he wrote before ripping it out and putting another piece of paper in.
He had to forget his parents; they were nah sayers.
“That I am fortunate in losing Polly and my parents, for they never meant well by me…”
Knock knock. Hubbard near jumped out his skin. He got up to open the door.
“Fucking hell Rob! What on Earth are you doing here?!”
“The question Sir Hubbard is why I am still here! How you doing you ole war dog, still working the system?”
“Aren’t we all but imagine meeting you here, how did you know where to find me?” Hubbard hadn’t seen his old friend Robert Heinlein since before the war when they were doing pulp together.
“I live here my man, Helen just told me we had a new kid on the block and I couldn’t believe it when she said it was you! Your going to fit in fine here, they’re all up for it.”
Hubbard went to invite him in and thought better of it considering what he was working on.
“We must catch up, gimme 5 and I will come down and we can coffee.”
“See ya In 5 bud.”
Hubbard closed the door and couldn’t believe his luck, this could get him back in with Astounding. He quickly ripped his piece from the typewriter and picked up what he’d discarded. He put the paper into the secret part of his suitcase and spun the combo lock on it before heading downstairs. Imagine Heinlein living here and now!
“How’s the Doc?” he boomed out as he walked into the kitchen to see Richard at the coffee pot.
“Ah good ole E.E. Doc Smith eh? He’s still on the circuit but not doing pulp anymore, he got a job with General Electrics so doesn’t have to, he’s saying novels are the way to go and we’re being exploited by the pulp mag editors.”
Hubbard checked the fridge for beers, cracked one open and offered one to Heinlein who declined. He swung a chair round and sat on it backwards facing Heinlein across the kitchen table.
“Docs got a point there you know! I am done slaving for a cent a word!”
“You still in touch with Campbell though yeah?!”
“Yeah, actually he keeps mentioning you in fact. He says he’s changed his mind about Excalibur. I am going to assume he’s either using code or talking about some writing piece as I can’t imagine you hunting swords in Devon.”
Hubbard couldn’t believe his luck. If he could get back in with Campbell his odds of success would increase many fold. He was published. And he’d only just managed to not mention Excalibur to Parson’s last night.
That was his own private magnum opus and Campbell had originally been very skeptical.
“Piece of work and on the QT at the mo. Glad it’s tweaked his interest though. The three of us should have another confab night sometime soon. Those were heady days.” Hubbard wasn’t about to waste time.
“You’re in luck Captain Ron, this Fri we’re having a get together. Doc’s going to be there, Asimov is on board and no doubt the usual others. Typical hardliners after party stuff as well I imagine.”
Suddenly Helen and Sara ran through the kitchens lounge into the lobby to the main door as Jack returned.
“Watch this” Rob said to Hubbard in a soto voce.
Both of them kneeled down Helen on the right of the doorway and Sara on the left. They both held their hands up waiting for Parsons.
He entered and beamed with a grin as he put a hand in there’s. “Rise my priestesses and go prepare for tonight’s rituals. Be particular.”
Those last two words told them to dig out the lube.
Parsons marched into the lounge as the ladies headed upstairs.
“Rob and Ron we will be in for some night tonight! Stopped off at my local per se and got us some primo coke!” He preceded to put 3 smalls lines out on the table top.
Once they all snorted it and finished sniffling they all stared at each other for those moments it needs to take over your mind.
Hubbard felt his headache go at last and went to the fridge for another beer.
“Lets get this party started, anyone else having a beer?”
He grabbed another 2 bottles in respone to the 2 ‘ayes’ he heard.
“Mr. Parsons I would like to begin with thanking you for the welcome. Robert please excuse us I would like to steal our host outside for a smoke and chat.”
“Have you secrets Hubbard I’m off anyway as I wont be about for tonight’s rituals.” Heinlein seemed keen to be off anyway.
“Robert we’re so close with you on getting an astral connection.”
“Master Parsons as ever I am keen to pursue the great beyond but my Earthly roots require me to attend. It’s my mothers 60th tonight and unlike y’all I am not quite motherless yet!”
Hubbard frowned at Heinlein’s back as he left.
Him being absent from his wife and out of touch with his family in general since the war had more or less left him an outcast to them. He didn’t care so much though. When you leave home into the navy and it feels like you’ve thrown off authority and that your folks were too hard on you, is what had happened, was his personal view. His wife was a chip off the same block as his folks.
He put on his most beaming smile and booming voice ”Master Parsons is it?” As he led him outside down to the bottom of the garden where some seat where loosely arranged around a garden table.
The sun was about to work it’s magic on the pacific and they had a great view from where they sat.
“O Ron yes and no. Only in front of the others if you will. I am glad you stayed you’ve been on my mind all day at work.”
“Again I thank you for the welcome. What do you do for work I meant to ask, I must admit you got me a bit caught up in Themla last night, not that I forgot a word of what you said either by the way.”
“My work in Magick and JPL tie in Ron, they connect in the middle in a way. In fact I am one of the founding members. I have the joy of helping man reach for the stars in my day job and I come home here and again we reach for the stars. Quite different fields of practice of course but reaching for the stars is reaching for the stars.”
“You did mention this last night, your designing a better jet fuel if I am right?” Hubbard had to admit to himself his mind was a bit fogged from last nights drinking but the coke was helping to switch him on again.
“JPL is designing a new rocket for the army and the fuel is my department. Come let me show you this.”
Parsons led Hubbard back into the house and through the kitchen lounge and into the hall. For the first time Hubbard noticed it had more than one hallway. After the stairs another led back into the house and he seen at least 4 rooms of it.
Jack noticed. “There’s 3 floors, 16 rooms, 4 bathrooms, a massive attic, the main room and a study. Perfect for a lodge. We like to keep our most devoted close so it works well. But back here in this room is where I work some of my spells.”
It was like the old original kitchen from back when slaves would cook and serve the house occupants and the kitchen to the front of the house was new. But with the sink and the fixed worktop in the middle therein ended the comparions to a kitchen. Jugs of glass jars lined shelves along all the walls and there was obv chemistry exquipment set up on the worktop.
“This is literally an explosives factory. And all mine!”
“It’s my job to try different mixtures to see what burns the hottest and over the years I have developed somewhat of a knack for it. And burnt my fingers more than one.”
Jack held up his hands and there was scars evident to back up his claims.
“It’s impressive. Really impressive! You set all this up?!”
Hubbard was not in the least interested in explosives but Jack had hit a chord he was grappling with. And waxing enthusiasm on another’s dream is a sure fire way to get in with them.
Jack started to walk round the room pointing at glasses “Here we have the sulphates, over here is the graphite…”
Hubbard gave him half an ear and tried to get his mind to what Parsons had said earlier to trigger an idea. He’d not wrote it down. That’s the danger with ideas he’d noticed, they disappeared if you never wrote them down.
“… but come now. We have plans for you in another field all together.”
They left the explosives factory and went to the main room. It was large with oak paneling along the walls. There was chairs stacked up at the back on either side of a doorway. A small strange altar was prominent in front of a defunct fire place at the front of the room.
“This is where I deliver out nightly sermon from the Book of Thelma.”
He pointed to the door at the back of the room saying “Through there is where the Magick happens afterwards with our most devout.”
Helen and Sara entered at this point and started putting out chairs in neat lines in the room. Hubbard could not believe his eyes.
They were stark naked apart from the bracelets around their wrists that had long strands of 4’ foot long rope dangling. They were light and looking quite strong to Hubbard’s sailor’s eyes.
Jack smiled and walked towards the back door. “Come.”
Hubbard followed.
Before Parsons closed the door Hubbard began “So what do you…”
“Quiet please Ron, we can’t damage the priestesses!” Parsons timed his rebuke so it finished just as the door closed. With a thunk that made Hubbard suspect it might be bullet proof as well as sound proof.
“Sorry my friend” Parsons quickly continued once the door was shut “Always keep the females subjected is rule number one and a key way to that is make them think they’re out the loop, say it is for their own protection of course. Which means us dudes always have the upper hand. Look.” He gestured to the study.
It was much smaller than the main room but still a good 8m by 6m. There was an upside cross propped up in one corner. A large old leather couch. Another altar but this one was much lower and had almost a worktop. There’s was drivers books scattered about, some open to a page, some stacked and 1000s in the shelves that lined the walls.
“What’s with the upside down cross?” Was Hubbard first response.
“Here’s where the fun begins. We say it’s our religious right to defy Catholicism to display their cross like this in our own private home. Which is bullshit.”
“Noticed how the ladies were scantly clad. Those rope bracelets tie their legs to this cross in the perfect position to take them from behind. Your on the cusps of the secrets of life here Hubbard.”
Jack was obviously more than convinced and Hubbard was more than impressed. To get women to live by this. To have it as routine. Expected abuse.
He was impressed.
“You said this is where the fun begins. What else do you have in store for me?” Hubbard was expecting the sacrificial goats now.
“Hubbard you will see, once you’ve connected control of the language and sex and family unit you have the ingredients for a believer. Then comes faith. Then comes abuse and therein lies our power to discover our inner strength.”
It never quite made Hubbard reel as he’d had such thoughts himself. There was power in language he knew. And sex obviously. But the family unit bit had never occurred to him.
“So if your not helping man to the stars in the day job and explosives factory then your doing it in here with sex, drugs and rape.”
“Not rape Hubbard when the faithful are convinced the pain cleanses their soul. We have that to thank the Cathoics for. But music is the other ingredient in here. But your right. I want us connected with the Great Beyond.”
“The other side of the chasm you mentioned last night.”
“Ron I knew would catch on in a flash. Not lets get ready. Your first ritual starts in an hour and you’ll want a dinner in you!”
They left the study. The chairs were out and both could smell the steaks frying.
The lounge table was set out for 12, Jack sat at the head of the table and motioned for Hubbard to sit at his left.
Sara was outside having a smoke and Helen had sauce on the stove she was working on. Sara would occasionally down her ciggy and turn the steaks.
Helen turned the heat off the sauce and put a lid on the pot. She was about to seat herself at Jacks right as he said “Helen my love, send Sara in and watch the dinner for a bit will you” Helen went off and Sara soon returned.
“Sara time to introduce Hubbard here to some Magick. Can you prepare me for the pre ritual meal and also of course introduce our new guest here to our ways.”
She took her naked lithe self under the table and Hubbard heard Jacks zipper being undone. The look on Jacks face told the rest of the story. Sara’s hand reached for Ron’s lap as she sucked on Jack.
Immediately Ron got excited and felt himself coming erect. It was not long before Sara had finished with Jack and had started on Ron.
She un did his zipper and took him in her mouth in such a way he could never last long. Others started entering the room sporadically and this would normally have turned Hubbard right off. But with what Sara was doing he was almost lost to the world.
As more guests filtered into the kitchen from the house Jack introduced them to Ron, who remembered the names of the 2nd half who entered. They never all got the same welcome as Ron did. But those who had entered while he was being sucked off never batted an eye.
It was an even mix of male and female thelmaites and all the women were clad the same as Helen and Sara.
Jack sat Helen on his right and Sara took the next seat down from Hubbard on the left while the chairman of the Lodge sat one down after Helen on the right. Clearly Parsons was favouring Hubbard.
The other men filled in the table while the ladies did the serving before taking their own seats. The conversation rippled about the table and Ron found himself drawn to Sara.
“I don’t know whether to thank you more for my dinner or the introduction to it!” was his best opening gambit. He knew he’d given up on love but this one deserved some interest.
“You’ll get used to it. You could be harder you know.”
Ron forced himself to not blush. She seemed so confident of herself with her sexualism.
“I hope later you will provide me another chance to be harder for you.”
They were keeping their voices to a level that would not carry.
“Trust me I can tell you now, it will be as you say!”
Which pretty much summed up dinner for Ron. He followed a number of conversations during the rest of dinner, often trying to join in where Sara did. And the talk kept coming back to sex and magick.
Until the plates were cleared and Jack announced it was time soon to begin the ritual and now was the time to have a smoke.
Half the guest filtered out while the other half tackled the dishes. Ron noticed most of the men outside as he was led away by Jack.
They did the ritual sermon for nearly 2 hours with more than one cock being played with either by hand or mouth of the women next to them. Most were then released to practice their magick in their room with their choice of priestess for the night while Hubbard, Jack, Helen and Sara took to the study.
Jack put out 4 lines of coke on the altar in the study and took Helen to the cross where he tied her to the horizontal part of the cross so she was bent over double with her crotch facing out to the room with her head buried in the corner.
Sara sat on the counch with a brandy she’d pured herself. Hubbard also poured himself a whisky and was about to also sit on the couch when Parson pointed at Helen and said to Hubbard “Did I not promise me last night my wife would be yours? Have at? She gives out nice yelps if she gets it up the arse!”
It was too good to be true for him, he pulled his zip down and again finding himself more erect than he expected he started to fuck Helen.
Sara was soon astride Jack and she was being fucked in the ass. Hubbard decided he was doing well enough if he could even just come in Helen. She was tied to a cross and that was helping. If she did object there was not much in the way of choices open to her. He came. Turned to see Jack and Sara intently looking on.
“Ron it’s time to get down to business. Helen and Sara see to each other before bed. Cleanse it and Helen I expect it to be confirmed later.”
“Of course my master.” was all she replied as she left with her younger sister.
Ron was stood aghast. If it was now the time for business what had the rest of the night been?!
Once the door was closed Parsons got up.
“Now it’s time to start.”
Hubbard steeled himself, this was going to be important. He retrieved his drink from the altar and sat down while Jack took out a book.
Hubbard sat on the couch and Pasons took an almost preaching stance on the other side of the altar from him with the book.
“Ron, it comes down to this. If we write it down then it carries more weight. It’s like the hotel industry, religion. The more glamorous it looks the more mugs walk into it.”
“It’s always best image forward and deals with the dirty laundry out back.”
Ron sat up, “Right but what’s this all got to do with you Magick and all this?” he gestured towards to upside down cross and obvious going ons of the night.
“Cosmetics only. Idiols and rituals are for the followers. We must lead and of course keep the women folk in their place.”
“So it’s all a shame then? Crowely has been held up to ridicule by more than a few!”
“Ron Crowely’s one of the greats and the Magick is of course real. I am saying to get the followers you have to have the trappings of an important religion. Build a church and the faithful will attend sort of thing. We pick out the enlightened from the followers and have our way with them to work real Magick. The rest is the shop front.”
“So the whole sermon then was a waste of time?”
“Not at all. It’s how we recruit the devout. The sermon is there for the less devout. The most devout end up in here. Think of levels of devotion.”
Hubbard sat back and took his chin in his hand and contemplated the events of the night.
“Listen try it for some time. How south can it go?”
Hubbard had to concede this and was not about to complain to his host after this evening.
“I must go attend to Helen. I have instructed Sara to be your tonight. I hope you appreciate this. She is my current favorite.”
Hubbard’s mind was reeling a bit from the drink, coke and the sheer audacity of this lot. He was not about to complain in a hurry though.
As he went off to explore what else Sara had to offer he contemplated the day and couldn’t help but think he’d missed something obvious and important.
Chapter 2: Crowely and OTO, 1946
“One would go mad if one took the Bible seriously; but to take it seriously one must be already mad.” Magick, Liber ABA, Book 4 publish in 1912 by Aliester Crowely
If anything Crowely considered that Parsons was doing a better job than most with the Agape Lodge. Certainly he was breaking down the family unit.
He didn’t hold with the institution of marriage or any sort of family unit. Humans where a social animal and in his mind family units acted more like childish cults than the Catholics did. Least the Priests tried to restrain themselves.
Most fathers seemed to think they had a license to abuse, as his own had been quick to prove.
As social animals the best he could expect of society was polygamy or open relationships to become close to being honest with itself. This tying one person to another for life was an invention of recent catholicsism and a load of bollocks that no one was truly subscribbed to anyway.
“Horus, bring the medicine!” He looked up from this latest letter from Parsons impressed with his own inner mediations as well. He wondered if he had a new Magick partner.
He could smell the cooking of his medicine now. It wouldn’t be long and he could take a respite. He wondered if Ben was about or out tending the goats.
She came through garbed in her rope bracelets as she should be and placed his afternoon advance by his side on the table. “Summon Ben if he is around. Tell him to come and do me.”
He still liked taking it up the arse even in his late age. The pain likened things to when his father beat him and making the summit of a tough climb. You got the a release in the end once you got through it.
He understood the women psyche wanting to be abused and feel pain to be alive. He had lived with it his whole life. Even when offering women perptual orgasmisms they still demanded pain in there as well. Ben was big enough. Since his father broke him in early it took someone of girth to make him FEEL it. The release always felt like he’d hit a summit in the end.
He injected himself with the heroin and prepared for it. He was in his dressing gown as he always was during the day. Laying face down on the bed he felt the clouds descend on his mind.
Memories of making the summit of Kilimanjaro when he was in his 30s came back to him. The release when you made the summit and turned back to look down on the world had never left him.
He heard the room door open and the sound of Ben walking to the bed. Crowely just let the heroin take him as the back of his legs were massaged. Ben threw the tail of his dressing gown onto his back to expose his buttocks. Ben grabbed them apart and dived in with his tongue first.
Crowely got ready to bite down on his pillow. He gripped the edges of the bed as Ben entered him with a vengenace. It had taken months to get him to stop being coy in the matter.
Crowely bit the pillow with gritted teeth.
He came to hours later as the sun was setting. Got dressed in his evening wear. Bending over to pull on his trousers gave him a welcome pain from his behind. A reminder of reaching that summit with Ben earlier.
He went into the villa’s living quarters to be greeted with those familiar faces. His harem. It was time for the evening meal and reside over the days matters. He took his seat at the head of the table.
The stew of the evening had been prepared by his Aeon wife. He believe they’d called this lamb Bill. There was something to eating an animal you knew as a pet. It wasn’t at all cannabalism but again there was an echo. To think the creature that had annoyed him bleating in the early hours was now his substanence gave the meal a sense of gratification.
“Good evening all” he addressed the 9 of them.
Horus and Aeon sat to his right and left respectively and the rest including Ben sat in order of their level of attainment in Themla. With the postulants at the bottom. One 10 year old girl had the air of the next Horus about her and she was now nubile. While her breasts were still budding on her chest he knew from Aeon she was an of age lady as far as nature was concerned in the matter. She was of child bearing age now and it was showing itself in a glow about her. One gift he had given to the world. Catholics girls going through this transitional period were oft made to feel dirty and ashamed, while here he had life literally blooming in front of them all and it showed in how she carried herself. Dina he had called her when she’d been presented to him by her mother 4 years ago.
It was definitely time to elevate her in the head chapter of OTO.
“M’Lord” came back from 9 subdued voices, they all knew he liked to start off the evening slowly and save the energy for later.
“I have had no new pronoucements in the interval so we can commece with ease. Is there any order of business to discard before dinner, please lets serve the starter and fill our flasks to begin.”
Dinner got under way.
Dina along with another older postulant Tara served the elders. Tara was 15 now and would aspire to no more than slave in the OTO. She was intelectually dry and prudence was dictacting when it would be appropriate to have her start bearing childern for the Order.
Of them only Dina was allowed to serve Crowely since Tara had spilled wine on him one night a couple of years ago. Mushroom soup and bread from the afternoons baking was laid out in front of the elders with ample cubes of butter on side plates and the wine began to flow. His advance slumber during the afternoon midday heat was always more wholesome with the smell of baking in the Lodge. And eating it still warm from the oven was a pleasure as butter melted into it.
Everyone tucked in as they were served, there was hardly about to be an evening prayer and Crowely leaned back in his oak chair/throne, it had such a high back it looked like a throne but it was hardly covered in fancy ornaments but the OTO symbol had been inscribed into it’s back by Ben once as a present.
A relaxed atmosphere took over the evening “We heard from the council again today M’Lord” came from Aeon.
“What they pomping on about now, do tell” Crowely showed her bored interst. Interest because it was her and bored because it was about the council complaining again.
“They have evicted us again M’Lord.”
“Again?! Acht send it to the appeal court. Just keep doing that till I transpire and then you know what to do.”
“Yes M’lord, of course.”
The conversation around the table went on to a more jovial tone and no one brought up any problem with finances. Despite Parsons generous monthly contributions to the mother Lodge the mushroom soups they were eating had been grown in there own plantation.
He’d moved to this Sicily island years ago and after cops had broke in during one of there more extreme nights they had found enough heroin to be of concern and Crowely in a comprimising position with a goat. They’d since been trying to evict the members of the Lodge and Crowely had the sense to fight it in court. But it was drain on finances.
He hoped Parsons kept doing well with the Agape Lodge.
Chapter 3: The Business Plan, 1947
“You have no fear of what any woman may think of your bed conduct. You know you are a master. You know they will be thrilled. You can come many times without weariness . . . Many women are not capable of pleasure in sex and anything adverse they say or do has no effect whatever upon your pleasure.” L. Ron Hubbard, 1947
FUCKING SCIENCE VS RELIGION. Ok it was time to be cautious. From the night before he knew he was now in a cult, they were not exactly protecting the family unit but leaving and sharing his inner secrets was the last thing he was about to do. He had to get this written down soon.
He’d woke up in bed next to Sara and she was in Jacks club and not his, for now. It had been a night of successes and failures on his behalf. He’d never met another women like her though and that was for sure.
He had to get rid of her for now though but that would help in his favour. He hated morning showers but would use it to be rid of her for now and keep his thought. Science AND religion. He took his towel from his suitcase and checked the lock on his private papers before heading to the head. Bathroom he corrected himself, he was no longer in the navy.
By the time he was back Sara was smoking a joint of weed and the room stank of it.
“Helps the head” was all she volunteered.
That embarrassing awkward silence started to creep in when the chat had been flowing the night before induced with drug fervor now had to meet reality and the ensuing headaches.
Hubbard was going to work on this one though. He took his own ‘coke’ and switched on his charm.
“Listen your something else!”
He took a run and jumped on the bed to land with his head close to her crotch. He took her hand in his and held it while looking up into her eyes.
“Your out of this world, do you know that?”
Sara put the joint in Hubbard’s mouth and he inhaled deeply. He enjoyed the warm fuzz it brought to his mind but had to go easy with it.
Sara didn’t give a fuck that he’d turned on his charm and was acting childish to try endear her. She’d seen it all since her step dad had started having sex with her when she was 9. ‘Lets play some fun games’ was a path she’d been led up more than once. But maybe, just maybe she could get a new start of life out of this. Hubbard seemed a bit of a moaning wet rag but he did have something about him and any chance was a chance.
“You’ll fit in just fine here.” was all she replied.
Hubbard sensed her distance and the weed was making his wit take a break. He had work to do to. He let her hand go and sat up in the bed pulling the covers over them.
“Well so far I think I did already fit into quite a few holes.”
Sara got up and pulled a sheet over her. She wasn’t interested in being grabbed into the study by Jack just now if he hadn’t made work. She wanted her own room for a bit.
“You not hard to fit in.” was Sara’s parting comment to Ron.
He fought with himself for a min. Half of him wanted to go smash the cheeky little bitch to shit and the other half knew he had to get to work and he’d hardly win her over doing that. For now.
Fucking little cunt highlighting his penis size. He was over 6’ tall with a big booming voice and lumbered with the smallest cock a man can have. So much for a fucking god and a big thanks to his folks for the genes.
He wanted to blame them for his aberration’s. He was small. He could not use his penis to punish women like he desired and they also did at times. Like Sara last night moaning ‘fuck me harder, harder.’ no matter his efforts she wasn’t about to come.
He had to get to work while he could. He knew tonight would have more in store for him. He had to get Sara out his mind. He finished the joint she’d left behind while he set up his typewriter. Then went to the kitchen to get the coffee hit.
Helen was there.
“Hey Helen, morning. Last night was, well. What can I say? This is a welcoming house.” Hubbard thought his emphasis on com as he said ‘welcoming’ would show off some of his wit.
Helen was thankful he hadn’t asked for praise for not taking her up the arse and so never mentioned how big he wasn’t.
“Coffee?” and so the beat went on for her. Since Jack had taken more than a little interest in her little sister some of the flavour had gone out of her life.
“Your alright.” was all Hubbard said as he took a cup from the rack and the pot of coffee off to his room. Another arrogant primo dona wanna be she thought as she put another pot on.
Hubbard did his coffee thing. Lost his face in the steam of it black before downing it as fast as he could without scolding himself. Then he attacked his typewriter.
“Science ve Religion is my advantage on the rest.” was his title. He’d have to burn this paper of course.
It had been bugging him since he’d been shown the bomb factory and then took to the main room and study. One was a pursuit in science. The other was a pursuit in religion. Combine them and you’d take top trumps.
“Start a science and bring in the religious angle or vice versa was the question.”
Everything Jack had said about control of language, sex and also of course the family unit fitted in perfectly but mixing religion and science, that was what was to be his ‘next big thing’ for the world. This could be if he played his cards right, see his name wrote down thoroughly in history. Setting up religions obviously could be done but the how was of course subtle.
He wasn’t so perturbed to be burning his paper out the window now as he was in a cult or budding religion so much but more how to be in the driving seat of his own following.
Claim to have a religion backed up by science was the answer. O he’d keep this close to his heart for now.
If he could bring Excalibur and perhaps hypnosis into it…
The days quickly turned into months and Hubbard slowly won over Sara to his plans. It was not long before they were pranking Parsons during his solo mediations. They’d tap parts of the walls knowing Parsons was on the trying to summon celestial spirits. Parsons would regale them of tales of the phenomena the next morninng at breakfast. While Hubbard and Sara refused to snigger at him.
Ron as often participated in the evening rituals with also Sara and Helen and at times other members of the inner sanctums. They stopped short of calling these orgies as the word rituals suited them better.
But Sara certainly favoured Hubbard. Or spent more nights sleeping in his room than any other in the house. Parsons felt like she’d ‘throw him a bone’ now and again sexually but it was becoming rare for her to be with him sexually outwith the evening rituals which her presided over.
Lately they had been talking about getting away for a while and Ron loved sailing. But they needed a plan and they wanted Parsons to be in on it as he had nearly $20,000 in the bank. Ron had managed to save over $1000 from his military pernsion while being kept in the Lodge in ample supply of sustenance in all forms. He was quite happy in the role of freeloader.. Now he would take it to the next level.
Parsons had elevated his to the lofty position of Scribe for Magickal Rituals and some nights he would literally sit there with pen and paper on his lap while Parsons masturbated himself and seeked to call on connections with mystical beings from the other plateau of life. Or his own guardian angel.
He’d managed to insinuate the idea into Parsons mind that he should adventure with his holdings or stagnate. Hubbard kept himself more sober from drink, less high on coke and avoided weed mostly to keep himself more grounded while Parsons worked his Magick rituals. Always assuring himself and Ron that Ron would be able to take more once he was as proficient in Magick as Crowely and Parsons were.
Eventually Hubbard and Sara were convinced Parsons was ready to be persuaded. They’d tag team him in such a way he’d not know he was being propisitioned by them jointly.
Hubbard managed to persuade Parsons to take Sun off. To respite some and forward plan. Parsons had been burning the candel at both ends for some time and Hubbards suggestion to take a day off and sleep in did suit him.
So it was on a bright Sun afternoon they were sat in the garden, Hubbard smoking his Kools and Parsons having some weed while they both sipped cold beers being served to them by Sara.
“Go on then Scribe tell me this plan you’ve been obviously hinting at?”
“In a nutshell I buy boats on the east coast, sail them to the west coast and sell them at a higher price. See here, on the east coast you can buy a Hurley 23 for $9000 and they are selling on the west coast for £16,000 and it takes a month tops to sail the boat east to west.”
Hubbard then just shut up. Sometimes the most persuasive sales technique you can have in a sales pitch to dummies. Hubbard now considered Parsons a dummy.
“How can you be sure of these prices?” Parsons started the inevitale questions when having such a plan proposed. He was hardly any dummy in his own mind.
“I have checked ad prices in local papers of people selling their boats. It seems on the west there is simply a shortage as 80% of private yatchs built in the US are built on the east coast. So it’s simply a matter of supply and demand as the split of potential owners is a 50/50% split between the coasts.”
“Another thing to consider is the bill to transport such a yatch on land is almost $4,000 which of course more than halfs the profit potential without considering paying insurance. But sailing costs less than $500 for the supplies and passage through the Panama canal…”
“So, your looking at over $6000/month profit.”
Parsons had to admit it was a good idea. But he’d only known Hubbard 3 months.
“Ron, allow me, whats to stop you just taking the boat about the gulf for months and live the life on my savings?”
“Come with me, I thought we had enough trust but I respect your point. Once we have done a run or two, we could take turns from there, going forward. Perhaps I could teach you and other Lodge members the ways of the sea as a thanks for being taught Magick nevermind the welcome.”
Parson could understand Ron’s sense of debt to the Lodge. He’d come along wonders in the few months he’d been living here. But he could not leave his work.
Sara went to the fridge as she reckoned it was about time as she’d been listening by the open window in the kitchen.
“I can’t go as much fun as it would be, I a needed at work.”
“What would be fun?” Sara piped up as she deposited 2 cool ones on the table between the guys.
“Hubbard wants to sell boats on the west for a profit after buying them on the east coast and sailing them west through the Panama canal.”
“I’ll go.”
Both men looked at her with surprise with only one of them having to feign it.
So in the ensueing weeks a plan was finalized. They would set up a Ltd company with 3 directors. Both Hubbard and Parsons would invest their lifes funds into a joint account of the company which would require the signaturies of at least 2 directors on any cheques drawn on the the company.
Jack was secure in the knowledge Sara would always have what family and sense of a home she had available to her in the world, here in the Lodge. Hubbard was obviously keen, competent and the rewards spoke for themself.
So it was the deal was made and after the paperwork was done Ron bought a modest car for company use and he and Sara packed and set off to make their first purchase on the east coast of the US.
Chapter 4: Crowely on Parsons and Hubbard, 1948
“She is like a child of twelve years old. She has very deep eyelids, and long lashes. Her eyes are closed, or nearly closed. It is impossible to say anything about her. She is naked; her whole body is covered with fine gold hairs, that are the electric flames which are the spears of mighty and terrible Angels” Alister Crowely on Babylon.
The letter was still on the kitchen table in the morning. Parsons was worrying him. He seemed to be under another’s spell now. Hubbards.
Money flowed to bullshit from these humanoids and Hubbards seemed to smell better for some reason to Parsons.
The letter had clearly been written by a man who’d been smitten by another man…
“Most Beloved Farther,
About three months ago I met Capt L. Ron Hubbard, a writer and explorer of whom I had known for some time… He is a gentleman, he has red hair, green eyes, is honest and intelligent, and we have become great friends. He moved in with me about two months ago, and although Betty (aka Sara) and I are still friendly she has transferred her sexual affections to him.
Although Ron has no formal training in Magick, he has an extraordinary amount of experience and understnading in the field. From some of his experiences I deduce he is in direct touch with his Guardian Angel. He describes his angel as a beautiful winged woman with red hair whom he calls the Empress, and who has guided him through his life and saved him many times… Recently, he says, because of some danger, she has called the Archangel Micheal to guard us…
Last night after invoking, I called him in, and he described Isis nude on the left, and a faint figure of the past, partly mistaken, operations on the right, and a rosewood box with a string of green beads, a string of pearls with a black cross suspended, and a rose.. He is the most thelemic person I have ever met and is in complete accord with our own principles. He is also interested in establishing the New Aeon but for cogent reason I have not introduced him to the lodge.
We are pooling our resources in a partnership that will act as a limited company to control our business ventures. I think I have made a great plan, as Betty and I are the best of friends there is little loss. I cared for her deeply but I have no desire to control her emotions, and I can, I hope, control my own.
I need a magical partner. I have many experiments in mind… The next time I tie up with a woman it will be on my own terms.
Thy son,
John”
He wondered about this Hubbard fellow. He was clearly able to connect with the occult but he seemed to be being led more by his dick than by belief in Thelma and the question remained about this current business proposal.
On which his own ‘tithes’ depended on from said Parsons.
The plan was fine in principle but he suspected Hubbard was playing a confidence trick and looking to freeload on Parsons as well.
Crowely had been fortunate to meet Parsons at a time when he was strapped for cash and Parsons agreed to head up the West US lodge of OTO and pay massive tithes to him thus sustaining his own lifestyle.
The authorities were close to extraditing him and he’d have to soon either desist with his own Lodge or leave the country. Hubbard did have something there, out on the open sea you can be a law unto yourself. Crowely was a bit old in the tooth for that sort of business now.
But this business venture smelled more of a confidence trick to Crowely. Parsons was being taken for a mug. It was time to give him the heads up.
He had an ally in the Lodge. Grady McMurtry would likely take over O.T.O in short order. Parsons was not only being taken for a fool but endangering his person to this Hubbard. Crowely despite his advanced age still knew when it was time for one fisherman to spot the other.
“He has got under the influence of a person whom I believe to be an ordinary Con Man; at any rate he is acting quite insanely, and as far as I can see, both deceitfully and dishonourably. I am still waiting to hear whether the adverb “dishonestly” should not be added to this list. In any case he would not come, because, — O curse these people who have no ideas of their own and can do nothing but pick up my ideas and try to put them into operation without in the least understanding them or knowing how to bring them to success! — apparently he, or Ron or somebody, is producing a Moon Child.”
Crowely had to seriously consider distancing himself now from Parson as this Hubbard fellow also seemed to have come up with his own Babylon which he called Excalibur and the sky was quickly becoming busy with Gods now within the occult.
Hubbard obviously considered himself among them and Crowely wasn’t about to abide by that.
He could be thankful his work the Dynamics of Life had been dismissed by the head docs and their religion… for now.
He’d make his own wish Hubbard would declare war on Psychiatry.
He may yet still have the biggest movement of the 20th century.
Anything to get into the guts of the Catholics in the end.
Either way, new religions or psychotherapy.
But what if this Hubbard tried both together?
Chapter 5: Parsons Revenge, 1949
“Revenge is a meal best served cold.” – Proverb.
Sara noticed a smile on Hubbard she’d never seen before as they headed off on their adventure.
The car was one of the first models with a radio in it and she was quite enjoying having her feet stick out the passenger window while wind blew in her face and she listened to upbeat music. She was smoking a joint and Ron had opened a bottle of whisky to keep them company on the road.
They headed east on highway 210. Hubbard pulled over in Monrovia and passed the company cheque book to Sara “Sign a few cheques and wait here for me.”
She gave him a look and said “Why?”
He turned on his charm smile and said “Don’t you worry, you’ll see.”
She was keen to get moving again and be back to wind in her face while having a smoke and a drink. What did she care about their business so long as she got a break from that house for a bit. And Helen and Jack and the rest. Hubbard at least she could deal with.
But he’d been gone now more than half an hour, she wondered what could be keeping him. She was about to get her shoes on and go in and check everything was ok when he came out with a bulging canvas bag. And the biggest grin she’d ever seen on anyone. Like a cheshire cat licking their lips as cream is being poured for them.
He got in the car and stuffed the bag under his seat and went to start the engine.
“Whats in the bag?” Sara asked.
“$19,500” as he pulled out into the traffic.
“Tell me whats going on!”
“Sara, will you marry me? I am a man of some means and I think you could do with a break in life?”
Sara could not believe her ears. She’d been all for getting a break from the lodge and was a willing accomplice to that, but this?!
“Fuck me” she muttered and tried to gather her thoughts some.
Hubbard thought to himself that was the general idea but kept it to himself.
“So what we just get married and fuck off?”
“Close the company acc. Send Parsons a letter saying we lost the money in trying to secure a boat. Fake some receipts from cash purchases and go sail the gulf for a bit till we work out how we want to live our lives in this world.”
She had to admit the idea had some appeal. And they did have a car and nearly $20,000 and she did like the idea of spending some time sailing in the gulf living it up.
So it came to be they married and Hubbard managed to get away with not informing Sara that he was already actually still married to his first wife.
They spent the start of their married life together living in a hotel in Miami yatch shopping. She had taken to calling the Lodge once a week now from every day or two and Hubbard was coming to the phone less and less and leaving the explaining to her. Jack was obviously becoming worried something was afoot.
It had been a month now since he’d heard anything and the only thing he was sure of was his Betty was more than likely pregnant to Hubbard by now.
He had to try recover some of his life savings now as it turned out Crowely had been right. Hubbard was turning tricks on him and he’d been taken.
He’d paid a man $19,000 dollars to steal his own chance of a Moonchild from him. Betty.
It was time for Hubbard to pay. And Parsons was determined to use every means at his disposal. Secular and Magick.
This mornings letter made it clear he would be better pursing the latter. Betty was threatening him with charges of stratury rape now for having sex with her when she was a minor. She’d been 17. She had him.
Hubbard could now force him to bow down from the suit he had filed against them.
Parson eventually ushered in a black Magick storm which forced hubbard to land with the yatch damaged enough it would allow sara to be on land while she gave birth. invocation of Bartzabel
Parson withdraws from the court case due to Hubbard’s letter and conjures up the storm that forced Hubbard back to land on his yacht.
Hubbard comes back to live in the US with Sara hob nobbing with Dianetics.
Land on Sara’s last ditch effort with Hubbard
Chapter 6. Dianetics and Alexis, 1950
“If I can start my own religion then I will be at the top then no one can stand above me like the IRS or that Crowely.”
“You are nuts, how the fuck do you think you will start a religion?” Sarach had serious cramps and Ron was being a dick.
“Have followers you fucking dunce, you paying attention here?!” He turned to her on the bed and stared, holding it until she looked back into his eyes. He stepped towards the bed with one foot and she never flinched. He gave a minor nod and stabbed his Kool cigarette into the ashtray.
“When’s this child going to be born so we can go back out?”
Him and his fucking yacht! Mr Commodore! My fleet. I am the commander. Obsessed. The wine he’d allowed her was easing with the cramps. Her time was soon. She knew when the child was born she would be able to force him to put her and the baby up in a rental while he went out boating.
He just wanted her back out in the gulf so he could fuck her more.
Threats to be sent back in bits
Land on sending a mission to kill Parsons
Chapter 7. Parsons Death, 1952
under mysterious circumstances
Chapter 8. Scientology and the Sea Org
Have fun
Land on Hubbard lapping it up in the Gulf with his messengers and not caring about the consequences of releasing Scn on the world.
Chapter 9. Charles Manson and Scientology
Times and dates
Land on the founding of the Manson Family
Chapter 10. The Manson Family
Bring in a conclusion here to the efforts of the ‘prophets’ of Crowely and Hubbard and the effects on their lieutenants Parsons and Manson who got caught up in their ways.
Chapter 11. The Worst Lieutenant, or Best.
If you can judge a man by how he leaves the world and his legacy I think we could we judge Hubbard and Crowely to be the Devils Lietenutants.
Ask if Marilyn Manson is the best Lieutenant
Chapter 12. Conclusion
Survive is not the dynamic principle of existence.
Our principle for being is to defy gravity.
To the degree we can defy gravity we will survive better.
Authors Note:
Scientology, Thelma and the Manson family are all loosing grip on their chilling effect. Paulette Cooper’s probably the last well known author to come to grips with a Scn fatwa like Salman Rushdi endured.
But if any of them want to come after me… let’s document it in full and as an expose. I may risk my life but I am betting they have lost the edge, now they’re papa’s are dead and these are simply cruel mimic’s of mainstream religions.
Comic echo’s to be mocked and laughed at and as much as possible be left to their own devices as toxic unfluences in society.
Keener minds than mine need to be directed at our guardians of our society to witness the treatment of their kids and act accordingly. It’s possible society overview is required if your bringing up wains in an obscure (unproven belief)
By ‘unproven’ I know God is – but his church has stood the test of time in society.
Scientology is losing ground.
Themla is greatly unknown.
The Manson Family is dead.
There is a long list of groups to add here as the Devils Lieutenants within the occult and some are included within the catholic church and many others. However mainstream religions that have stodd the test of time have found a means to work with the world. For the most part. With some factions failing.
Scn, Thelma and Manson never got off the start line with popular society and neither should they.
How the Mormons got this far to me is a testament to humanities ability to be gullible.
But Scientology takes the biscuit for the gullible who should not be. Tom Cruise!