Sheila called me another time, some months after I posted this declaration. She acted as if nothing had happened. I was really ticked, launched into her for working for the lying scum bag $cientology lawyer Andy Wilson, and the call didn't last long.
Well she called again this past Saturday, March 11. What a surprise! She wanted to know if I was going to be picketing the Vancouver org on the weekend. She probably used the term, the "church." I always try to correct $cientologists when they call it the "church." It always sounds so phony after being the "org" all those years.
I never did answer her question, but I did get some answers to some of mine. She said she was calling from a payphone. I asked her if she was recording the call and she said No.
No matter what I said, she kept asking whether I would be picketing on the weekend. I told her what she was doing for the cult was really mean, and her lying was hurtful. She succeeded in being unflustered and kept repeating in various ways her question about if I'd be picketing.
She said she didn't have to report in to the cult, which I said she was doing and which I said was really rotten. She kept saying that she just wanted to know. I conveyed my acknowledgement of the cultists' incredible hubris in having Sheila call to try to get more information from me as if I was just someone only here for their abuse.
I asked her if she realized that people like me oppose $cientology just because of the sort of things she's doing for the organization. I said a lot of things, because Sheila let me talk, apparently in the hope of getting me to tell her if I'd be picketing. To tell the truth now, as much as I wanted to picket, I'm glad I didn't, because the $cientologists obviously had prepared a personal welcoming committee for me. But I'll be picketing them again before they know it.
I didn't have a cassette recorder available when I first answered the phone, but after Sheila hung around and kept listening to me for a while, as she tried to TR-3ed her product out of me, I was able to record my side of part of the conversation. I hardly ever record conversations, and only my side unless it's an agreed-upon recording. I'm posting the part of the conversation with Sheila which I was able to record for her and everyone's benefit and enlightenment. I've edited out a few stutters in what I recorded ("") and edited in () some comments about what I noted or recalled Sheila was saying or I was thinking.
"Well, you know there are things that I want to know." [Referring to Sheila's wanting to know if I'd be picketing].
"What do you mean? Listen, will you meet with me? Listen, let me ask you. Let me ask you. You know that I'm not a stupid person, right?" [Sheila does know that in Chilliwack High School which we both attended I was an academically top student.]
"So you know that for someone to pull the wool over my eyes is really weird, right? I mean, you know that I'm smart, right?"
[Relative intelligence is a huge button for $cientologists, I think because they know the tech fails utterly and obviously in its promise to raise their IQs. Sheila graciously acknowledges that I was smart, then goes back to asking about picketing.]
"Oh come on. Listen to me. Listen to me." [I keep trying to get her to talk about something other than whether I'll be picketing, or at least listen. The way $cientologists communicate in a live conversation is made instantly frustrating because they keep talking in order, despite their "auditor" training, to not have to listen.]
"It's clear, right, you did something which was just wrong. You know who I am. You know what I've done in life. You know what I say. If you can't get out on the internet and read what I've written it would be completely ridiculous for you to be contacting me and doing the things you're doing."
[Sheila says that she does read what's on the internet, and expresses a worry that now she's going to see something from me about her again. (Hee, hee, hee.)]
"But in that you obviously do go out there and do read what I've said, then surely you recognize that what you're saying is just plain wrong."
[She repeats my assertion as a question.] "Yeah."
[And she repeats her statement about just wanting to know whether I'd be picketing at the org.
"No, I know you want to know. I understand. And I will be grateful... Listen, can I ask you something? I don't know if you're calling from a payphone or from your home, or whatever."
[She says she's calling from a payphone.]
"From a payphone. Okay, well obviously you're not putting in coins, right?"
[She acks me.]
"Okay. Then can you tell me to what number you're charging it?"
[Amazingly Sheila says something about not knowing my number.]
"Of course you know my number. Listen, you know that what you did was wrong, right?"
[Sheila says that she couldn't say that.]
"I know you can't say it. But...come on, be honest. Be honest with me."
[Sheila insists she is being honest.]
"Why? Why? Whatever on God's green earth, whatever would drive you to set me up, to try and con me, to get close to me? I mean, I was pretty spot on wasn't I in not accepting that document from you? That was part of the ..."
[Sheila explains that the script she had tried to get me to take at one of our meetings was her own writing and she really wanted to talk to me about films.]
"Oh now you even...Ah come on, the whole thing...."
[She says something about there being something else involved.]
"Of course there was something else involved with it. Your whole reason for calling me up out of the blue, and getting close to me, as it were, was to lure me into some kind of a meeting with you, where then you could report back about what's going on, erroneously, in the life of Gerry Armstrong. I mean how more rotten, pardon me? What else could you have done? What do you do with your friends? You were working for them the whole time. That's just..."
[Sheila suggests that I should understand because I was once a $cientologist.]
"I was once one. So big deal. Does that make your doing that...."
[Sheila says something about being confused about something. She isn't being clear.]
"What do you mean you're confused about?"
[She says I'm confusing her.]
Well then okay, if I'm confusing you...please listen...then give me the opportunity to unconfuse you.
[Sheila says she does, and then goes back to asking about me picketing or not.]
"But then you won't do that."
[She says something again about my having been a $cientologist.]
"Yeah, so what. I was a good $cientologist. I was a smart one."
[She acknowledges this.]
"Good. Well then don't treat me stupid."
[Sheila denies this.]
"You do so. Come on you do."
[She still denies it.]
"Well then don't do what you do.
[She says she doesn't do what she does.]
"Then why don't you just say, 'Hey wait a minute, Gerry. You know what? I'm coming unglued. It would be really good if I talked to you.'"
[She denies coming unglued.]
"Right. You think that you're totally fine."
[She says that yes she has no problems.]
"No, but if you ever do, who you gonna talk to?"
[Sheila says she'll call me.]
[Sheila takes up her assigned target again of finding out if I'd be picketing. She asks me to let her know.]
"Oh, what's your number?"
[She asks why I would want to call her.]
"Because I really think that you truly owe it."
[She says that if I'm going to picket she'll talk to me.]
"You mean you'll come outside the org?"
[She says she will.]
"Okay. And that's all you want from me?"
[She says she just wants to talk.]
"You do?...Then why don't you come up to Chilliwack?"
[Sheila says she does come up to Chilliwack to her dad's place. Then she says something implying that she got what she needed from me, and was ending the call.]
"Sure. And what are you going to report back?"
[She pretends she doesn't understand.]
"What are you going to report back? Are you giving up?"
[She still pretends to not understand.]
"No. Are you giving up?"
[She asks is she giving up what?]
"Getting what you wanted to get. Do you really think..."
[Sheila is still pretending.]
[She won't listen so I give her some whiney babble.] "Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra, ra ra."
[Sheila says she doesn't know yet if I'd be picketing.]
"Exactly. That's what I was saying. Are you giving up? You don't know do you. You don't know if I'm coming. That's all I'm trying to establish."
[She says she's guessing.]
"You're guessing what?"
[She guesses that I might be down.]
"You're guessing that I might be down."
[She says Yes.]
"Okay. Will you be there?"
[She says she will.]
[She says I should phone.]
"I should phone the org?"
[She says that they'll come and get her.]
"What's your post?"
[She wants to know if I asked her what's her post.]
[Sheila says she doesn't work for the org.]
"Of course you work for the org."
[She denies it.]
"Come on. Okay, but what's this? What do you call yourself when you're doing this?"
[Sheila continues to deny that she's doing anything for the org.]
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yeah I know, but you were sent off on a particular thing....to get from Gerry Armstrong this....I mean you don't give a good goddamn if Gerry Armstrong is going to be there. Your organization..."
[She denies everything.]
"Oh yes, Oh I know, I know. What do you want? You want more time from me. You want to Dev-T me? Is that your statistic?"
[Sheila still in denial.]
"We'll keep.... we'll Dev-T Gerry Armstrong."
[She's denies Dev-Ting me.]
"Oh bullshit. You do so."
"You don't want to learn anything. You want to wallow in that crap. What a useless technology. Pardon me. But look what it does to you."
[She says that's my opinion.]
"Yeah, and I'm entitled to it, right?"
"Good, that's all I'm trying to establish."
[Sheila talks about having her own opinions, and implies that she thinks independently of $cientology.]
"You have?... And obviously you've survived, right?"
[She says that she has read things I've written.]
"Well good for you. Good....Do you read me on the internet?"
[She says she does.]
"Do you go to a.r.s.?"
[She says she does.]
"Yeah. Do you ever post?"
[She says she doesn't.]
"Why? Why don't you post?"
[She says she's not into that.]
[She says something about it not being her job.]
"Yeah. Like part of your job is to call me up. You're the connection. Listen, how did they get hold of me? ...What did they do? Have a big staff meeting, "Hey, does anyone know Gerry Armstrong?" Or did O$A going through its computerized pc folders come up with connections? Or did you just happen to report some day? I mean, come on. All those visits to Gerry Armstrong in the coffee shop. Lure him with some bullshit about making a movie. You didn't care. You wanted to destroy him. You weren't out to help him at all. How absolutely ridiculous."
[Sheila denies doing anything to me.]
"You did so. You guys all would have gloated."
"Oh come one."
[She says something about me panicking about it.]
'I'm not panicking about it. I'm trying to bring home some sense to you."
[She asks what sense.]
"Sense of exactly what I'm talking about, that you won't listen to. I don't know why."
[Sheila says something about me not answering her question.]
"I am. So you won't give the common courtesy, the way people associate with one other, by answering questions which are truly relevant. Not what's going to happen in the future, but clarifying what's gone on in the past."
[She says she doesn't care about what's gone on in the past.]
"Of course you don't. Oh yeah, and it doesn't matter at all that I feel abused and betrayed and crapped on, right? The heartbreak? Gerry Armstrong, hey, he's an SP. You can do whatever you want. You can be as rotten as you want. Hey, it doesn't matter. You know how to prove how OT you really are? Well then you call him up after you've done all those rotten things. Yeah. Then you call him up, because that proves that, hey, we are so unconfrontable. We truly are little nazis. We've perfected it. Who could do that?"
[Sheila comments on about how funny I am. Says she'd never realized before that I was funny. This is common throwaway compliment $cientologists will begrudgingly bestow on SPs.]
"Yeah, well, you have to get me at the right time. But yes, I have a particular talent. I don't think you read what I say, because a lot of what I write I do for the simple reason that it is funny,"
[She says something else about me being funny, then says she has to go.]
"No you don't. Hey, listen..."
[She says again she has to go.]
"Okay, but listen, you should call me."
[She asks if I want her to call me.]
"Yeah, and listen..."
[She asks me to phone the org.]
"You want me to phone the org?"
[She says yes.]
"Well give me their number."
[Here's what she gives me.]
"604-681-9121. Okay. And who should I ask for?"
[She says to ask for reception.]
"Ask for reception?" [I'm incredulous.]
[She says yes.]
"I'm not going to give a high level communication like that to reception.[Still incredulous.] Come on, give me...."
[Sheila says that reception will make sure she gets my message.]
"Oh yeah, sure that would get relayed right. Oh, yeah, "this guy calls, his name's Gerry. He says 'yes or no.'" [I'm not very indignant.]
[She says to just say I have a message for Sheila.]
"Message for Sheila." [As if I'm slowly writing, which I do.]
[She continues as if I've agreed to something.]
"Wait a minute. They're not---"
[Sheila says something about the person who's to be "the terminal."]
"Who's the terminal?" [I wonder if she means she's to be my terminal]"Is that you?"
[She says yes and then reissues my instructions. I'm to call the org and tell whoever answers I have a message for Sheila and they'll call her and she'll come down.]
"When will you next be there?"
[I don't think she answers.]
"Are you married?"
[She's a little surprised by my TR-1, but continues talking and says No.]
"Are you living with anyone?"
[She says she has a friend, but implies that they do something different from what the kind of friends who do things other friends don't do do. But it wasn't totally clear.]
"He's a lover?"
[She says no.]
"Not a lover?"
[She says yes.]
"Okay. Is there any chance for me?"
[She really liked my joke, because she started laughing quite loudly.]
[She's still really laughing. And falling for me.]
"Shhhhhhhh." [I'm spoofing her getting in trouble in her phone booth.]
[I think that after a bit she says she'll come out and talk to me if I'm down at the org.]
"Really. Okay, now I have to know something. Are you going to have to report that I asked you this?"
[She says she wouldn't have to.]
"Okay. Because you know what we could do?"
"You and I could have a love affair. And you could be really helpful to me."
[She doesn't agree to my proposal and says she has to go.]
"Don't tell them right away, okay."
[She's insistent that she has to go.]
"No, please. "
[She says something about me telling people.]
"I won't say a word about it. And that way too...."
[She says something about me putting it on the internet.]
"Wait. I'm not going to put it on the internet. But listen. It would give you the opportunity, don't you think, to get to know me, and to see that I would actually be like forgiving of the truly just like miserable mean things you've done to me."
[She asks if it would be punishment.]
"No. I mean it would be punishment if you then ran an op on me right?"
[She says she wouldn't do that.]
"That would be really rotten. But listen, if you were to like work with me."
[She says something about not being able to do that.]
"No really. You could do it...And listen, you know what, you'd have the opportunity to see life in a completely different way that you can't see it in $cientology. Come on. It gets all stilted and stultified and weird. Yeah, there's whole different way of--- "
[Sheila disagrees. She says things are great and she's gone OT.]
"Ha, ha, ha. Pardon me. Okay, so you know about Xenu then, right?"
[She pretends she hasn't heard.]
"No, but you do, right? You know about Xenu."
[She acknowledges Xenu, says she's done OT III.]
"Yeah, I mean wouldn't you like to have someone to talk to, about the whole thing? That you could talk to honestly. Right? You know, I did OT III too."
[She asks if I really did it].
[She asks when.]
[She begins to say something about how things are better.]
[Laugh.] "Oh you think...Oh yeah, they've really improved it since. Oh yeah, the new...the golden age of tech, right?"
[She says something in defense of the tech.]
[She asked if I had really confronted it then.]
"I what? Confronted what?"
[She says something about OT III.]
"You mean Xenu and the BTs and the clusters and all that stuff? And incident I and incident II? Huh?"
[She asks again if I really did it.]
[She asks where I did it.]
[She says something about thinking that I had gotten OT it off the internet.]
"No, I mean I did it in the cult."
[She asks if I really did it inside.]
[She says she has to go.]
"Hey, listen, give me your home data, okay so that we can..."
[She won't. She says she has to go.]
[She says something about having to go and not being able to talk to me.]
"Please don't. Don't. Just try."
[She says I'm being paranoid.]
"No I'm not being paranoid. I'm reaching out. Please all I'm doing is reaching out to save you."
[She says she's totally fine.]
"Well you could be. Because you know that you can come to me and then you could be totally fine, right?"
[Sheila says she's got to go, okay.]
"Well not okay. But, will you call me from somewhere? I'll be home."
[She repeats that I'll be home.]
"Yeah call me. From somewhere where we can talk so it's not being recorded."
[She repeats that the call wasn't being recorded.]
"Okay, and some place where...'You know what, I'm not going to report in my communications any more...Other than to make them into something that will satisfy them while I carry on my life.'"
[She resists the temptation.]
"What. It could work. I mean who else but me, right?"
[She says she really has to go.]
"Okay, bye, Sheila."
[I hang up.]
The next day, Sunday, March 12 I called the org (604-681-9121) and asked for Sheila. The receptionist says Sheila who? I say Sheila Werner. The receptionist, a male, says it doesn't ring a bell. Then he says "Sheila Norlen," that she goes by Sheila Norlen, and she wasn't in the org. The receptionist said his name is Larry.
Well Sheila didn't call me back, but I'll continue to try to reach her. In fact, because she says she reads a.r.s. I'll make the rest of this message for her personally.
Before you have to say anything, Sheila, I apologize for posting our conversation when I said I wouldn't. A veritable religion could be made of such admissions of lying. My admission of lying can be no less sacred than sacred lying ® itself, (I just learned how to make a copyright © and a registered ® symbol) and therefore no less a religious practice. All that notwithstanding, I lied to save us both a mess of trouble. As it turns out, I'm also able to share with you and everyone else my big religious win that you facilitated. It's the start of a revival!
I know you will have to go back to the cult, and have to write up a report, be questioned, be sec checked, and then be suspected forever, whether I post our conversation or not. But the $cientology scumbag lawyers won't have you sign another perjurious declaration if I post this first. I'm posting this to save you from a life of crime.
The ethical dilemma I faced in having to break my promise in order to save the person to whom I made it -- you Sheila -- brought me to a life-changing cognition. I have always been honest and sought to be honest in my dealings with $cientologists and their agents, in fact with everyone, thinking all the time that honesty is the best policy. $cientologists, as shown by your phony phone calls, your meretricious meetings with me, even your "sworn" declaration, and as is observed here on a.r.s. every day, have a policy of lying. $cientologists lie because they believe that lying is the best policy.
$cientology's basic fair game policy calls for enemies to be lied to and cheated, in addition to other even more aggressive and criminal actions. Because I am declared an "enemy," you lied to me and cheated me. Let us not pretend that you don't know what fair game is or that it doesn't exist. If you do pretend, you'd, of course, only be lying. And lying is essential to your fair game doctrine. You helped $cientology's leaders in their many-pronged legal and illegal campaign to destroy me.
$cientology's leaders, by the way, are the people who you know, Sheila, run $cientology. David Miscavige and his "loyal" $ea Org officers, and their agents like the attorney Andy Wilson who claims to have instructed you to run your lies and ops on me. Naturally, being $cientologists and agents of $cientology, they lie, and you, being a $cientologist, would lie even about them being your leaders. $cientologists lie because their policies, and the people enforcing the policies, direct them to lie. $cientologists' enemies, the wogs ®, don't have a policy of lying, so are at a tremendous disadvantage.
In business, $cientologists' competitors, or any opposition really, are their enemies. $cientologist business people follow $cientology's business administration policies, which direct them to lie. What a tremendous advantage in business the $cientologist liars have over wog (R) non-liars. That's the big difference between Scientology's business practices, which even they admit are successful, and the wog ® business practices, which $cientology compares as unsuccessful. Naturally, $cierntology and $cientologist business people lie about lying as they lie about other things, so their lying, although always present, is not always immediately obvious.
$cientology's lawyers follow the same lying principles and technology. Andy Wilson is a perfect example of a barefaced liar. He's hired by $cientology because he subscribes to $cientology's ethics, wherein lying is the best policy. Imagine what an advantage it is in legal proceedings, where lawyers and witnesses swear to tell the truth and are presumed to be telling the truth, to be on a side where the lawyers and witnesses embrace a senior and superior policy of lying. $cientology's lawyers, naturally, lie about their lying, just as do the $cientologists for whom they toil. You'll never find a $cientology lawyer who acknowledges he or she is lying, because if they tell the truth about their lying they wouldn't be $cientology's lawyer.
Hubbard showed in his Admissions the advantages he enjoyed throughout his life by lying. Have you read Hubbard's Admissions, Sheila? They're also known as his "Affirmations" or now, his "Denials." The undeniable, overarching reality of this set of Hubbard writings, which your organization leaders withheld from you, didn't they, is that he was a gargantuan liar. Check out this post.