Blog: Casablanca Redux by Michael Fairman - 2011-12-02

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F0.png Casablanca Redux by Michael Fairman December 2, 2011, Marty Rathbun, Moving On Up a Little Higher

The day after last year's Thanksgiving, I sojourned to Ingleside-On-The-Bay and thus crossed my personal "Rubicon". In an odd twist of history and geography that led to Casablanca. The four days I spent with Marty and Monique began an adventure with the truth. Not only did Scientology work for me as it hadn't for years in the church, but the time I spent with the "Kingpin" and his beautiful wife gave the lie to the torrent of crap about these two beautiful souls that was pouring from the mouths of those representing Miscavige and his sorry excuse for a religion.

As I say the Rubicon was crossed, because from then on my family and I were subjected to the various forms of garbage thrown at us by those who pride themselves on being spiritually enlightened. It also began a year of attempting to see through layer after filthy layer of what has been going on within corporate Scientology. With each revelation compounding the insanity, I decided to throw everything overboard. I was interested only in having Miscavige's abuses come to light and acted upon. Screw everything else. Although my wife Joy had been helped by seeing Ingrid Smith, a field auditor, I, despite my earlier wins with Marty, was no longer interested — not in Solo NOTS, or being audited, or taking a course, or even reading a book; and I could no longer swallow the idea that Scientology was the only path and LRH the only and true pathfinder. I found that attitude arrogant and self defeating no matter from where it came.

But life has the continuing and annoying habit of asking us to confront it. So it was for our family of three. There was a barrage of "stuff" coming at us and we were not making great headway against it, We had only Ingrid close by to turn to, so my daughter and I went back to her. During an amazing communication with us, Ingrid mentioned how much fun it was for her to be solo auditing. I told her I never wanted to look an e-meter in the face again because of what a drudge it had become. She described the joy and freedom with which she audited, the ease with which things were handled, and the picture she painted was infectious. I also recalled the natural ease with which Marty had audited me. So then and there I decided on one more go-around with "the Tech" and made plans for a trip to Texas.