"What do you want to get out of Scientology?"

That's what the guy sitting across the chintzy Formica table from me wanted to know.

“Ummm…”

Seven days earlier I'd seen the same insane footage you had. Tom Cruise laying out what Scientology means to him in a soon-to-be-banned indoctrination video. It was everywhere, even parodied by former SG columnist Jon Kesselman. After multiple viewings I was able to discern this much.

1) We can safely say, Tom's "pro-Scientology." Oh yeah. Maybe you thought the connections were overblown, exaggerated even. Nope. He loves the shit out of Scientology. Loves it like you love, well, probably nothing. Maybe drugs.

2) Scientologists are just as into acronyms as the rest of us. If there’s any common ground, at all, to be found among E-meter using, Suppressive Person hating Scientologists and the rest of us fun-loving thetan-filled jerks it’s that we all enjoy shortening our words into catchy sequences of letters. It’s fun, rewarding, and probably saves time once people have got ‘em down. That’s gotta be worth something, right? “We’re not so different, you and I… Oh, what’s that? You guys believe… Oh. Heh, okay, TCB!”

3) Sometimes the above statement will be followed up with a “whooshing airplane sound.” Possibly this plane is piloted by John Travolta.

4) Scientology can be summed up with the assessment, “You’re either doing it, or you’re not.” You may have noticed that this is something Scientology shares with every other activity on the planet. Also, Tom claims to be able to tell if you’re actually doing it, or not. Not unlike the messy room I grew up in. I could either clean it or not, but I wasn’t going outside until I did. Similar to Tom, my mother knew whether I’d really cleaned or just piled stuff in the closet. Stuff I didn’t want found. Or found out. Cough.

Here are some highlights:

Midway through my planned snide remark I realized, “Shit, I think I kinda remember hearing about him saving people from some accident a while back.” That scrapped that cheap shot. For him. But where the hell’s Jenna Elfman been? I haven’t seen her so much as helping change a flat-tire on the Cahuenga Pass. Travolta? Lady from "Cheers"? Maybe a little less Scientology, and a little more Try-entology, huh, guys.

Tom, I’m a little unclear on that “not onboard, onboard” part, can we go over it one more time?

Also, “putting your ethics in someone,” is that an outpatient procedure? What if I’m not sure where someone’s ethics have been, but he IS a Scientologist, is this still something you’d recommend or…

You can call yourself anything you like but I’ve found that the most effective authorities are the ones actually recognized by someone, um, not included in the “authority.”

And, also, I’m sorry, you’re the authority on drugs… AND the mind? And rehabbing criminals? I’d be more inclined to believe you if you just picked one thing. It’s like this restaurant near me that claims to have the best burgers… hot dogs… chicken and seafood on the west coast. I’d have let “hot dog” slide but, yeah you’re overreaching just a bit with that other stuff. Especially considering you’re located inside an old railcar on the Sunset Strip.

He goes on, and there are newer leaked clips around, one, notable for the ill-advised, possibly criminal line “Why ask permission? We are the authorities.” But I think we get the gist. Sure, I enjoy snarkily writing jokes that shit on someone’s misguided beliefs as much as the next guy, but, this time I felt like going slightly further. This is bigger than the typical asinine news story and maybe it required something beyond just reading something. Which brings me to the opening line, delivered by my new Scientological pal, at the headquarters of Scientology conveniently located on L. Ron Hubbard Drive.

The electronic billboard out front offers a “Free Personality Test,” between flashes touting the worldwide to-date sales of Dianetics. (More than 10.) I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wall to wall drones frantically covering sacred texts as I walked through the glass doors seemed a bit much, but I had to at least take a look, right? Maybe they had something? Maybe something worthwhile? Could I honestly say, one way or the other, without having gone down there firsthand to experience it? The answer is, of course, yes, I could’ve, but I went to the trouble anyway.

People flit about in oddly nautical attire, white-shirt adorned with the shoulder decorations of a Princess Cruise veteran. I asked about taking the free test and they led me to a mostly empty classroom, walls crammed with various charts and photos of prior successes. A dumpy, middle-aged fellow made his way through the test. Two hundred questions including the following:

1) Do you make thoughtless remarks or accusations which you later regret?

(Wow, it’s like they could see into the future!)

2) Do you browse through railway timetables, directories, or dictionaries just for pleasure?

(A question no doubt included to placate the “world’s most boring Scientologist,” who’s looking to make a few pen pals.)

98) Would you use corporal punishment on a child, aged ten, if it refused to obey you?

(If I told “it” once, I told it a thousand times, stay out of daddy’s secret drawer.)

I answered the questions as honestly as possible, though some were perhaps intentionally vague. I was told to wait in the lobby after the test’s completion, while they analyzed my score. The receptionist broke up her occasional iPhoning to tell me, “It would only be a few more minutes.” (iPhone? What, no Hubbardyne 6000?)

Several awkward, and yes, seemingly haze-covered people entered and exited. Then “Ruben” beckoned me into a depressingly office-like cubicle. (Where’s the burnished steel? The moon rock?) The ultimate how-full-of-shit-are-they conclusion rested on my results.

My scores were all over the map, though with several firmly in the “Attention Urgent” category. His analysis? “You sometimes get frustrated when you put things off, only to discover that it’s now to late to do them …” This seemed incredibly insightful until I recalled checking the “+” box next to the question reading “Do you sometimes put things off, and then realize it’s too late to do them.”

Similar to his conclusion that I often “find myself going off in many directions at once.” Which is exactly the way the question I marked “yes” to, read. (as indicated again, by a plus sign) On the off chance I wasn’t following, he then proceeded to draw a circle representing “me,” and added “arrows” indicating “me going off in many directions.” If only there was a box I could check indicating, I understood what words meant, and don’t often require diagrams when not defusing bombs. Another analysis/consulting-of-the-answer-I-gave-earlier resulted in yet another diagram. This one: an “X” representing me, next to a line blocking me from a scribble representing my “goal.” Nice. Finally, after several free movie screening offers, a request for me to purchase a book and, “if I was in a hurry to get there,” classes, the question came…

"What do you want to get out of Scientology?"

“I think I’ve got it, thanks”*




* Actually, I hemmed and hawed, then said I “wasn’t sure.” I also admitted my biggest problem was laziness which, thankfully, he didn’t respond to with a crudely drawn diagram of me sitting in a recliner eating a sandwich