This is not my first forum registration on the internets, and I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. And, it’s a concern I have.
Your first reaction to this question might be “no, I’m not in a cult…are YOU in a cult?” But, do you think members of some famous cults realized that they were cultists?
[ul]
[li]Peoples Temple[/li][li]Heaven’s Gate[/li][li]Manson Family[/li][li]Order of the Solar Temple[/li][li]Raëlians[/li][/ul]
Like attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion? Did you watch c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate? Will all those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain? Is it time to die?
Ok, I’ll bite. If a person in a cult and a person outside of a cult would both think they were not in a cult, how do you tell the difference? I’m sure there’s a list that could be googled.
Spoons has inspired me to learn to make origami unicorns. If we are a cult, perhaps we could all learn to make them.
Ridiculous. For one thing cults always prop up some figurehead as the all-knowing, all-seeing leader who will deliver the unwashed masses from ignorance. Also, they try to find ways to profit financially from their followers. And they banish forever those who don’t follow their rules. Hey, my Kool-aid tastes kinda funny…
If it’s not, I’ve wasted a lot of time going door-to-door asking people if the have heard the Word of Cecil, and handing them pages from alternate newspapers.
I’m glad that someone has finally brought up this issue. It’s something that has weighed heavily on my mind for the past fifteen years.
FIFTEEN YEARS! And I knew … and did nothing.
I will not speak about the goat. :: shudder ::
I’ve been here that long, back on AOL and then here. Back then they called us AOL newbies. That’s how they got you. They invited in the rejects from the rest of the Internet and made us feel at home. I’ve been here as a regular member, then as a moderator, then demoted back down to regular member under what can only realistically be described as unusual circumstances. Did I know too much? You decide.
I remember once meeting some of the other mods and administrators during a DopeFest in Chicago and we all went for dinner. But walking there seemed to be way off the beaten path. I saw no stores, no restaurants… not even a Banana Republic. Just dark doorways with vile, foamy steam seeming to slink from under the doors as if they were fingers trying to grab us by our shins and pull us in. After navigating what seemed like a maze of streets and alleys, we finally got to the restaurant. I had the lasagna.
That’s right … the lasagna. God help me.
I can hear you asking for stories of what goes on in the upper levels of this organization. All I can say is that what they made just us underlings go through is enough to turn your head, if not gray, then a delightful shade of salt and pepper. I cannot say much. I know they’re still watching me. They always do. I will not speak about the goat. A screaming comes across the sky. Call me Ishmael. Stately, plumb Buck Mulligan came running roly poly pell mell tumble bumble till he came to the bottom of the hill and there he stopped short. I am the Duke of Ashaway, I’ve come to take your trash away.
You can see my mind going now even as I try to speak about it. The voices still seems like they’re coming from the basement … tekeli …tekeli li … li … I know I must investigate, but … the knocking at the door interrupts and I must