THE LIFE & DEATH OF A SCIENTOLOGIST - 1998-12-06
"I am L. Ron Hubbard," the woman on the hotel room bed announced in a robotic voice. "I created time 3 billion years ago." She rambled on and on, every outburst dutifully scribbled down by those assigned to watch her.
"I can't confront force . . . I need my auditor . . . I want to take a toothbrush and brush the floor until I have a cognition."
The jargon of Scientology was instantly familiar to anyone who entered that room in the Fort Harrison Hotel, part of an elite training center and retreat established here by Hubbard, the science fiction writer and self-styled religious leader. It was also obvious to her fellow Scientologists that Lisa McPherson had cracked up.