The Scientologists were holding a major event at their Saint Hill headquarters near East Grinstead, Sussex - apparently to relaunch a book on 'Ethics' so suppressives decided to rain on their parade.
Actually Xenu decided to rain on everybody's parade, Saturday being the wettest day this year. But we turned up outside the main entrance to Saint Hill at 1pm with a banner denouncing RTC for 'squirreling'. There were perhaps 15 cars parked on the verge outside, other cars going in and out, and even a coach that was unloading people at a nearby car- park. Scientology 'security' were enturbulated by the picket, and tried to push us off the verge into the road. The police, who we always inform in advance, turned up and were notably unimpressed by the Scientologists complaints of 'trespass' on a public highway. When the police left, one Scientologist got fairly aggressive with his pushing, so we moved into the roadway, protected from oncoming traffic by a parked car. The 'security' detail then tried to protect passing Scientologists from the sight of us by standing further out in the roadway at great risk to their own safety. We eventually decided that they had volunteered for their duty as an alternative to the sheer horror of having to listen to speeches about "Ethics".
After half-an-hour in the downpour we decided as planned to head back into East Grinstead intending to warm up, dry out, and then start picketing the 'Saint Hill Manor Information Centre & Bookshop' in town. But at about 2.00, just as we were steeling ourselves to brave the elements again, we noticed that the bookshop had pulled the shutters down, although it was open when we passed at 1.40. On our previous excursion to East Grinstead, we had met very determined opposition outside the bookshop, but this time - nada. Perhaps the new "Ethics" as squirreled by Miscavige consists of the exciting new 'non-confront' Tech. So we posed for photos to mark the achievement - the first time we have actually forced a Scientology establishment to shut up shop rather than face us.
We ended the day damp but happy.
John
A big Suppressive Howdy!
Braving seriously adverse weather conditions, a bunch of us suppressives showed up to try to sour the book-launch event at St Hill.
We had planned to do a banner-brandishing appearance at the main entry to St Hill followed by some action at the book-shop (and information centre) in town.
The demo at the gate started at 13.00 as scheduled, with four suppressives carrying a nifty banner ('RTC Squirreling LRH books,' three-four feet long, A4 height). We placed ourselves on the pavement next to the gate in full expectance of being told to shove off. The "security" guards didn't like that, and we retreated to the grassy bit right next to the pavement. The first security individual was a young fellow who offered us to show us the deed to the place (we should have taken him up on it, would have gotten their paper-work wonderfully wet).
An american clam showed up and tried a bit with the old confront ("look at these crazy English squirrels getting wet. Ha ha ha!"). It has to be said that we didn't carry umbrellas (which all the clams had), but we were mainly dressed the part to compensate.
After the obligatory delay (lots of muttering into radios), a bunch of clams came out and played. Very gratifying to have the undivided attention of something like a dozen people who looked like they'd much rather be out of the rain. Most of them were obviously dressed for being indoors at the event (suit, tie, etc) with very spiffy trench-coats and a diversity of umbrellas. One umbrella went 'Singing in the Rain' and Dave obliged them with a few verses of 'The L-Ron-Ron.'
The young security guard tried to dampen our morale by hackling about how he was the youngest person present and yet the most intelligent. He did this while staring right at my university scarf[1] and I doubt the poor fool even knew what such a scarf was. I tried grilling him on how old he was ('how many trillions of years?'), but he was into one-way (attempted) communication and shut up.
A small trickle of guests kept arriving. The car-park inside St Hill must have been full, since cars were parked all over the verge of the (narrow) country road around the gate.
We had left the boom-box behind (it was not the kind of weather which favoured having electrical systems operating) but Dave made up for that by neing both loud and visible, dangling the Body Thetan[tm] dools at the entering clams.
After a short while, the clams decided that the arriving guests were better off not getting their carefully vacuumed minds filled with contrary input, and blocked off the view of our banner (held at chest height) using their umbrellas. One of them even took the time to loosen the banner around one staple with the result that the banner went down. Came up soon enough, though, and gave me cause to loudly reminisce about the time in Poole where a tired clam had dropped their banner four times in 10 minutes...
The clams were at their most camera-shy, and used the umbrellas to block our view. They were, of course, very eager to take pictures themselves, even taking the time to point their camera at us for ages (maybe in the hope of getting a snap of one of us sneering?).
The law-enforcement community were soon represented by an officer in a range-rover[2] who drove inside, stayed a few minutes and then drove out. Around that time, the obnoxious twit who had been shoving us around the last time (http://www.mygale.org/07/jensting/images/EGrinstead9805/eg_rslr_1.jpg, second from left) started shoving us off the grassy bit and into the road. We kept our cool and calmly went and stood in the road. The age-old question ('why don't we do it in the road') is usually answered by the fact that the road at St Hill is too narrow for that sort of cavorting, but this time, we could stand next to a car which had been conveniently left there. Heaps of thanks to the clam who had left his jallopy there - if it had not been there, we would have been way too exposed to the traffic. After I had stood right in the way of the range-rover, Dave had a short chat with the officer. No conclusion as to whether we were in the right to stand on the pavement or grass seemeed clearly available.
We were probably supposed to be impressed or intimidated by the sheer scope of their intelligence gathering when the obnoxious twit called Dave and myself by first names. BFD.
The clams were mainly ashen-faced, slight, stern-looking male types, with two females (one with umbrella who stayed a while, and one without who didn't). All displayed great non-confront by demonstrating their ability to not communicate.
After having stood in the road for a while, with the clams standing even further into the road, using their umbrellas to block the view for anyone driving past/in, we decided that half an hour was enough and that we'd let the poor buggers get back inside to have their brains washed some more.
Back at the pub, we thawed up a bit ('WHAT? No toddy??!?!!') and then decided to have a go at the book-shop. The shop had, however, been completely shut down. The shutters were down and everything. We took a couple of pictures to commemorate the first time that the clams had taken their one viable course of action (leave us to it), and went home.
So, not a great demo in terms of getting the message out to the public (never an important point in East Grinstead), but a good one in terms of displeasing the clams.
[1] Imperial College, London. Consistently the highest-rated technical university in the UK, and third overall behing Oxford and Cambridge. University scarfs are of a particular type in the UK (broad, wollen, stripes in bright colours) and are instantly recognisable as such to anyone who has spent any time in a university (town). (Of course, recognising the specific university by the coulor-code is a different matter ;-) ).
[2] or something. Quite new.
In article <RsrlUCAhsfM2Ewxq@jritson.demon.co.uk>, John Ritson <john@jritson.demon.co.uk> writes >The Scientologists were holding a major event at their Saint Hill >headquarters near East Grinstead, Sussex - apparently to relaunch a book >on 'Ethics' so suppressives decided to rain on their parade. >Actually Xenu decided to rain on everybody's parade, Saturday being the >wettest day this year.
There were just six "tough nuts", Dave Roland Jens John Hartley and David2 who braved the elements. A few other tender plants --including East Grinstead locals--obviously saw the weather and stayed home. Roland forgot the inflatable aliens, and I forgot to remind him. We also checked out with the shop but apparently vinyl inflatables are too heavy for balloon gas to give much lift; it only works with a very thin/light skin over a very large volume. I also slipped and stubbed my toe on the slippery marble floor of the station forecourt---I mention this because later on OSA took a great interest in this and photographed it. Hmm. People in black leather with an strange affinity for feet.....
So we got to East Grinstead station and it was a pretty miserable day: middling to heavy rain, lashed into us by the wind. We haven't really had a picket suffer bad weather until now (apart from Manchester, a city where it traditionally always rains). Down to the pub and chatted for a while, then five of the six got into the car and headed for Saint Hill. We passed the gate and saw other cars parked on the verge, so pulled in after them. We walked back down to the gate, with a banner and Duke the Dog. The sound system stayed in the boot, as Jens thought it was just too much to lug and might not work well in the wet.
We set up on the pavement of Saint Hill Road by the gate, which sure looked like the footpath of a public road to us....and to the odd passing police car. Nevertheless the clams eventually pushed us off it into the carraiageway, fortunately standing in the lee of a parked car so we were shielded from oncoming traffic. The clams appeared with umrellas which went, not over their heads, but in front of our banner so cars should not see it. They then took to standing right out in the carriageway, which I told them was N.A.G.I. but it wasn't my business to shift them.
We stuck it out for half an hour to show willing. I suspect OSA were not best pleased to see us turn up on the day of an event; we must do it again some time, but when the weather is likely to be fairer.
Then we drove back to the pub for some lunch. We reluctantly peeked out to have a go at the shop, opposite the pub, but.... in the meantime it had closed down utterly, and put the steel shutters up. We talk a few triumphal photos in front, then had a drink until the next train and headed home. The weather had been truly awful: not total torrential downpour, but medium to strong rain you would not want to be out in long, with reports of storms, flooding, etc, from various parts of the country.
Xenu's Choice
Deep in his mountain prison the former President of the Galaxy faced a difficult decision. Converting the ECT (Electronic Thetan Catcher) to a weather control device had been the work of millenia, though hooking it up to that dratted Eternal Battery had been the work of moments. Now hundreds of those who had dared to try to evade his implants were converging upon their spiritual home on Teegeack to be given further intructions on Ethics. But so were some of his loyal slaves, the former interstellar criminals who had been reactivated to oppose them.
It was a hard choice, but a neccessary one. Xenu activated the device, and out in the ocean clouds began to form...
ARSCC(UK) reached the gates of Saint Hill in a downpour to find that coachloads of Scientologists (CTM) were still arriving for the IAS lecture, indeed our squirrel informs us that it started late due to the gales and rain covering Britain. In my red picketing anorak I was well protected against the elements, and Duke had his waterwings of course. Our new Banner Tech was soon unfurled. The gate monitors also had a new tactic - umbrella tech! This is quite effective at blocking picket signs.
Once traffic had died down the soaked enturbulators returned to town intending to visit the Scientology bookshop, but we found the staff pulling down the shutters. We'd like to think this was non-confront, but more likely they were off to be told about new exciting ways of getting their Ethics in. Since the population of East Grinstead was unaccountably staying indoors rather than rushing out to secure their copies of the new Roland (TM) leaflet, ARSCC(UK) retired to nearby pub for a pint of (well in my case) Murphy's and a discussion of Doriantech before departing.
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