In my head, I started this in the voice of Sophia from the Golden Girls.
“Picture it, Dragon Hills- wait, wait, you have no fucking idea what Dragon Hills is? It’s in Georgia, man. Uh, kinda…outside of Atlanta, going towards freaking Alaba- oh, forget it.”
I don’t really remember how old I was, I just remember I had shown up drunk on Mad Dog 20/20 to levels that, to this day- I cannot handle even a whiff of that stuff.
Which is totally fine.
I just want to say that when you’re running around, having a righteously good and clueless time, just about the last thing in the world you want to hear is:
Oh, honey! I knew your Momma. I knew about you the day that you were born! Did she tell you that-
You know, I’m not there for any really good reason. It wouldn’t be…oh my god, ages. I mean, I studied things but I had for a very long time, even in my substance abusing crazy halycon days of youth- could not take these people at all seriously. At that time, that was also not really a reference which would open a lot of doors. And I was drunk.
I think I wanted to say something very polite and cordial. You know, nice decline, duck on out sort of thing. But I was drunk. (Let me be fairly clear here- I was drunk a lot back then.)
What came out instead was more like:
Combined with a kind of awkward: Okay, Val. Yeah, I know, town blew up and shit. Gas main break or something. Gotta go and, uh, check on, something now.
I started getting the weirdest phone calls whenever I could be found. So, I stopped letting myself be found. There are groups I find fun, yet, don’t take seriously- and groups I don’t find at all fun or good or anything- and take incredibly seriously. That was a life I really had no desire to deal with.
I would encounter this person again not all that long after that. At this point, I had been involved in something. Something. Dark side. David Lee had just put out a website everybody and their dog was chirrupin’ about. Something.
I am…again, rather predictably, drunk. I am again, wandering around having a good time and contemplating a very nice invitation by three incredible women. Suddenly, about a 6 foot something tall dude dressed like a viking topples drunkenly into a ping pong table.
All I really remember was, kind of slurring Alright…look…
and putting my hands up in front of me like she was going to hit me.
You keep having people talk to me. You keep trying to talk to me. I do not know you and I don’t WANNA. I wanna go have a crazy drunk thing, here, and I want you to leave me the fuck alone. I do not care what you think. You bring up people and all you do when you do is alert me to the high probability that you are an asshole like they are assholes and I can’t learn shit from you except how to be an asshole.
I forget exactly where I was going with that but it was probably dismissive. I forget, because I blew chunks all over at that point and wound up sleeping it off in a car. I was not thrilled in any capacity.
A few weeks later I get this insane, long winded email about potential and needing the right teachers which I promptly deleted. Eat a bag of dicks has been a fairly pat response since then and I have been accused of “not believing” and a whole mess of things.
This is because this person is a false guru. She claims to be a lot of things. Claims to be an expert in those things.
Problem here being, there is absolutely nothing to validate any expertise because there is very little to form a platform of expertise on. Maybe I know this because of all the weird ass grooming shit this person and her associates have thrown at me over the years- man, when you’re a young kid kicking around and confused: that incredibly validating stuff looks wonderful.
Except, it’s like the dude with the candy van telling you that you have pretty eyes. The grooming behaviors are insanely obvious and yes, I get it:
And, well, no, the reason I know all of this is not, in fact, due to the weird claims about my potential or whatever else- it’s because I study. I observe. I archive.
Whatever I do or do not do, is decidedly none of anyone’s business. I recognize fully loads of people feel that parading the shit around like you’re king or queen of the dog shit heap is the best way to enforce some sense of qualification or authority: and to that, I just sort of laugh. Worse than that, though this has been a bad, long history of general harassment- the recent tone, past few years, has blamed a certain group for my utter disdain. Lady, I thought you were a kook and a fraud before I met any Theodsman. Just sayin’. But, your auth-or-atay?
Yes, because you said so. Your word becomes my religion? Mmmmhmmmmm…
She isn’t the first to approach me in this way, at all- she’s just the one who won’t freaking stop because she thinks she’s got some in by having apparently been friends with some of my relatives.
The thing is, I knew about her before the first drunken meeting because my aunt warned me. She isn’t the only one I got a warning about- she’s just the one who won’t let it go. Of course, for most this is a vague sort of thing. This is totally fine, these are things I’d rather not ever have to deal with- so, good on you for not having to. I suspect I know why I was contacted even though Eat a Bag of Dicks is my response, always- and it’s just sick.
My opinion of the plethora of gurus and so called leaders is pretty damn low. I see people lay claim to all manner of shit and it just tilts my head. Most I could offer historical citation and readily debunk it but no one seems to care because they apparently need this kind of thing.
My definition of community is apparently quite different than all that- because frankly, if it is a community- uh, isn’t it only as strong as the weakest link? Are you not responsible for those under you? Are you not supposed to be serving? Kind of thought that was a thing, which is also why I have always avoided it- I am not averse to responsibility. I do, however, make damn sure my own floor’s clean.
So, how come so many of them are reprehensible toads? How come so many of them struggle? Probably because having oodles of likes on a social media platform does not a community make and Jim Jones was stronger leadership. Probably because just making shit up and slapping it into a self-published steady stream does not make for an authority. I get a self-published steady stream when I have too much dairy.
I frankly think that anyone who wants to be on that ol’ fast track to cult leadership should probably sit down and do some studying. Not freaking Blavatsky or Jung. Not Plato or Crowley. Not even Spinoza, though god knows, ya’ll need some fuckin’ Spinoza.
Let’s start with baby steps.
Go re-watch Jurassic Park.
Or not. Rather frankly, I don’t care.
But do it somewhere other than my voicemail and email inboxes.