No Cults, Please!

Now that I’ve gone public about the prospect of potentially having been Philip K. Dick, I want to ask everyone something: if I seem at all out of line, call me out.  If anything I promote here begins to resemble a certain science fictiony cult, then I deserve and expect the whole of the Internet Hate Machine to come down hard on me.

For those who aren’t aware, Philip K. Dick was trolling Scientology before it was cool.  That’s a legacy to be proud of, not to be shat on by turning around and becoming another Mickey Mouse cult leader.  If I let any human failing of greed or desire drive me to dishonor that legacy and try to start a cult of my own, then I want every single one of you with the good sense to know what’s going on to make me fear for my life until I stop.

And if I ever find out that someone else is claiming to be Philip K. Dick’s reincarnation for the purpose of starting a scientology-like cult, then there will be hell to pay and you’d better hope Laura, Isa, and Chris’s lawyers get to you before I do.

The fact is, some of the megachurches I attended as a child were borderline cults themselves, and in the name of raising a “Godly child” I went through intensive psychological abuse from my mother, coached along by books like “The Strong-Willed Child” by James Dobson and his Focus on the Family cult.  Dobson taught my mother that children like me had a spiritual dysfunction that could only be cured by breaking our will and our spirit, and my mother, out of misguided love for me, turned my childhood into a nightmare of constant invalidation, punishing curiosity, and lectures on the Biblical history of child discipline (“you know, the Bible says to stone disobedient children to death,” she used to tell me).

As a cult survivor, then, I have a high degree of accountability.  If I hurt someone else the same way, then I am guilty and deserve no sympathy.

Speaking of cults, some music that seems oddly fitting to ligthen the mood:

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