The Truth About NATLFED

January 1, 2019

Another Year

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 22:10

It’s a new year and perhaps a time of reflection.  How many of you made cheesy resolutions?  Now that the holidays are done, we can all share in the joy of buying Valentine’s Day chocolates already in the stores.  Some stores already have an Easter section.  Why is it that when I want to buy a pool that I have to do it in the winter?  Seriously, I need it in the summer but then the stores are selling winter coats.  I never understood that.

This isn’t the blog you’re looking for…

Do you use a period after an ellipsis if it ends the sentence?  The writing stylebooks seem divided on that point.

Ah yes, someone contacted me and it put me in a mood.  It’s been a long time since this blog has had active moderators and contributors.  Some of you may remember the issues from a while back when there were persons actively contributing.  I remember upsetting a few people when I changed the rules.  No more submitting under the ghostwriter account.  Create your own account and you can continue being a contributor, just under your own nom de plume.  Apparently, I was being unreasonable, but I was blamed for some rather outlandish posts that the other contributors denied having written.  Okay, deleted the wild rants and changed the rules.

I have a knack for pissing off people, I guess.

Janus represents beginnings, endings, and transitions.  Most of us don’t worship the Greek gods but remember enough to associate them with months.  I don’t see any campaigns to rename January.  Hey, we could call it something like Winter Month or Wolf Time.  How about plain old Bob?  What are your thoughts?

It’s another year of waiting for something.  I have a strange attention span.  Oh look!  Cute kitty cat memes!  For creatures that don’t give a damn, they somehow managed to take over the internet.  Yes, even the computer keyboard proves difficult with a certain Maine Coon deciding now is the time to lay across it while I’m trying to type.

Seriously, though, how many of you still follow news about the group?  It’s scant, usually highlighting fifty or one hundred food boxes given away at Christmas, maybe some toys, that sort of thing.  Someone dies and asks for donations in their memory.  Don’t send thoughts and prayers, just cold cash.

I know stuff that happened before some of you were born.

Given the mass influx of correspondence requesting more blog posts (sarcasm because no one cares), I decided to take a moment and type a few sentences to let you know that I’m still here.  Let’s hear three cheers!  Okay, most of you don’t care.  I get that.  You probably think I’m making the entire damn thing up and you’re entitled to your opinion.

If you want to blog here about the Organization, send a little email.  If you want to share something about after the Organization, I’ll put it on the RRR (it’s somewhat off the beaten path but it gets hits from time to time).  I do want to go back through some of the old posts and separate the chaff from the wheat, but I’m somewhat lazy.  Oh, the Quadrantids will peak on January 3.  Whoops, there goes that attention span.

Plenty of people have struggled to reconcile events from past participation in the Organization.  Even now, I have the occasional dream seeing old friends.  Weird stuff happens like finding secret doors that lead into disheveled and abandoned apartments haunted by poltergeists.  Wow, twenty-two years later and it still messes with my head.

Just because the group isn’t doing much of anything should mean that we should cease warning people.  After all, they’re still recruiting and raising money.  I’m not part of their solution, so in their eyes I’m part of the problem.  I guess that means out of the entire population of the country, only one hundred or so persons are part of the solution and everyone else is the enemy.

I don’t want your money.  I’m not collecting donations of any sort.  What you do with the stuff you read on the blog is your business as long as you’re not plagiarizing.  I leave you to your thoughts.


December 9, 2018

Holidays are nightmare anniversaries for cult survivors

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 21:13

So…another holiday season.  How many of you are thinking, “Thank God I’m not out there fleecing the masses on another bucket drive?”  Okay, may not the exact words, but many a cadre hates bucket driving.  It doesn’t feel like organizing the masses.  Instead, it’s getting enough gas money to make it to the canvas where half the people slam their doors in your face while crying, “Jesus already saved me!”

I didn’t miss holidays at home.  It was lasagna one year, frankfurters with beans in tomato sauce another year, and it keeps going downhill.  Everyone fought.  God, why did you have to pick midnight for Mass?  Oh right, you want to see how devoted we are for attending at such an inconvenient time.  The good Sisters of Charity asked politely again, and being a nice person I said I would be too busy sleeping.  It was sure better than saying, “Hell no.”

They’re on a mission to save a lost soul, you see.  God called them; Gino called me.  Is it really much different?  Before someone starts screaming blasphemer, just keep in mind that a devout Catholic (or so we’ve been told) is currently running the cult, and certainly not by Catholic standards nor any interest in maintaining the holy observances.  Damn, better make sure to stock up on beer, whiskey, rum, and everything else — it’s time for a NOC sing.

Holidays are anniversary dates.  You might not recall exactly what happened on August 1, but you probably remember everything (just about) that happened on December 25, 1984 in the brownstone apartments (assuming you were there on that date, of course).  Fast forward thirty-four years and bam!  Just when you thought you were over the cult, those pesky little memories just wreak havoc with your sanity.  Someone says, “Don’t look back.”  Okay, I’ll forget about those frankfurters with beans in tomato sauce.

It’s not that simple.  Over time, the pain ebbs but the trauma never truly goes away.  There are some decent articles published by the experts concerning anniversary dates.  Go on, do the internet look up.  If you ended up here, you’re obviously halfway decent at doing some research.  Steve Hassan and Rick Ross (not the rapper).  I’m not trying to recruit anyone to anything.  It’s about those so stuck inside the group they simply don’t know any other way.  Family eventually writes them off (not coming home for Christmas for 30 years in a row kind of does that to a person).  It’s about those who were in it one day or thirty and now are out of it, looking at the calendar and wondering, “Where is Joyce?”

If the group was serious, it would have done it by now.  It almost did it in ’84 until something went sideways.  Many left, some remained, some came and left, and Operation Retread began in earnest in 1997.  I heard that was a disaster, but I was out not in at that point in time.  Most cults don’t let you back in at all.  I wonder if the Organization is unique in its efforts to re-recruit from among the former cadre population.

I’ve no idea how many hung on so long but we’re talking people in their sixties or seventies.  A few youngsters in their forties, maybe, but I don’t think any from the kiddie crew back in the day are still in it.  Without the young blood to bring up the rear, maybe it’ll all just go away some day.  There are rarely new names associated with the group.  It’s the old timers getting older and boy, won’t they be surprised when they die in the 1A filing room.

It’s the old argument again: did it start out as a cult, or did it turn into one in 1984?

Happy holidays, everyone.

September 7, 2018

It’s been a while

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 19:14

Hello.  We haven’t had much to discuss lately, mostly because the group just isn’t doing much of anything.  Oh, there are the standard fleecing the public maneuvers as they collect money for victims of recent natural disasters.  Those targets of opportunity come and go for the group.  They’ll land a small windfall, maybe catch up on a few bills, send money to the National office, that sort of thing.  Even the press remains disinterested in an obscure group.

I lose another gray hair and wonder, “What if?”

June 17, 2018

Another passing

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 20:07

Just found out that Nelle Christensen passed away in April.  A link to her obituary is here.


June 8, 2018

FACT Survey

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 22:28

Families Against Cult Teaching and Steve Hassan are encouraging former cult members to participate in this survey.  Spread the word, please.

May 6, 2018

Best wishes to you

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 20:42

A former cadre recently dropped a note asking to send best wishes to all of the brothers and sisters.  It reminded me that it’s been a while since my last post.  I suppose if there was a front group in Hawaii that it would be exploiting the disaster situation.  Of course, the news is extremely chock full of exploitable situations ripe for the picking.

What of news concerning the group?  Still remains difficult to obtain, considering the secrecy.  The fronts still trod along with buckets collecting coins in front of grocery stores, four or so persons canvassing the streets to sign new members, and leaders hoping that someone’s rich relative will die and bequeath a fortune.  It’s a cruel reality.

As always, if you hear a bit about the group, please drop a note.

March 10, 2018


Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 18:18

Sometimes, things past come to the forefront of our minds.  Such things can be pleasant while other times troubling.  Today is one such day.  I was happily tapping away at the keyboard when a thought occurred.  This isn’t a royal typewriter.  Tap, tap, tap; not the same as furiously pounding away on an old manual that relied on a dictionary and an eraser for auto correct.  Some of you are probably wondering how us old gals used to manage 75-100 wpm on those old things.  If you remember the good old days of typing pools, the incredible sound of fifty typewriters clacking away is first to come to mind.

My school did not introduce computers until I was a senior.  The program floppy disk went in one drive, the save disk went in another.  It was modern technology.  The first portable computer weighed fifty pounds but you could work away for an hour or so before having to plug it in to charge.  I had an entire shelf of old disks, the floppies long tired in dusty sleeves accompanied by the next generation that looked like reject props from an old sci-fi series.  I don’t think you can even get those old tape readers anymore except antique stores.

I was hoping to find something that I had written twenty years ago and stored away on such a disk.  I called a couple of computer stores around town and I swear those kids just laughed at me.  One old-timer politely suggested an idea.  Even he abandoned such things a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.  So I continued looking around and found someone with an ancient machine in their attic.  I don’t know if it was the machine or the disks, but nothing could be salvaged.  Oh, a few words or paragraphs could be recovered and viewed, but no way to transfer to modern mechanisms.

I did the only thing that I could: I threw away the disks.  What may have been important twenty years ago is less so today.  The fact that it took so long to dust off those disks should have clued me in any way.  I was thinking about a testimonial someone shared.  It was around the same time I was unceremoniously exited from the Organization.  She spoke about what happened when her grandmother died.  The Organization pressured her to get the money and give it to them.  They sent a cadre with her to Philadelphia.  She even stayed in the local office while she was tidying up her affairs.  Then she gave the cadre the slip.

There was something she said that my memory was failing to recall.  It was something along the lines of, if they just would have let me take care of it I would have given them the money.  She made no particular name for herself while in the Organization, just another worker bee pecking away at an old royal.  She was a loyal adherent, spoke plainly, and enjoyed camaraderie.  No one worried too much about her.  She was trusted to take care of things and rarely got sick.

The timing was unfortunate.  This happened during the time of the lawsuits that resulted in six persons going to jail.  That also started with an heiress cheated out of her monies.  The Organization was desperate to get her dollars and didn’t trust her to do the right thing.  She felt suffocated.  Yes, that word comes to mind very strongly.  She didn’t like being considered untrustworthy.  I can’t remember the reason why the cadre left the room but when he did, she told the lawyer she was afraid he was going to steal her money.  The lawyer hid her in another room and told some story to the cadre when he returned.

I’ve been trying to remember some of the details of what happened after she made her lam.  I think she started teaching in high school before returning to the university as some sort of professor.  She married some loser who spent her inheritance before dumping her for a younger and prettier model.  Unlike some that left, she made no prideful claims of building something better.  She walked away with a realization that it was a scam.

I was thinking about her because the subject of the trials came up in a correspondence with another ex-cadre.  She was once a friend.  The two of us would never have been friends if we had met outside of the Organization.  I remember an awkwardness when chance brought us together again.  She wanted me to know that it started out about the money.  She wanted to return when her head cleared but the phone calls compelled her to do otherwise.  I think it may have been FCFD who was calling all of the relatives trying to hunt her down, I simply can’t remember.  It could have been FCADC, a rising star at the time in great favor with Oldie.

Life has ups and downs.  Not everything can be blamed on the cult.  She had trouble adjusting to a ‘normal’ life when she first left.  When things went wrong, she did what she learned: she blamed herself for her inadequacies.  She hadn’t been committed enough, allowed herself to succumb to exhaustion when she should have been working, fell sick at the wrong times, needed someone to tell her what to do.

I wish I could remember that day with the clarity of a crystal glass but it’s hazy and shattered.  Then I realize it’s not that important.  She didn’t tell me what happened so it could appear on some crappy blog.  We both exited the Organization and in very different manners.  She wanted on the bandwagon to help others escape.  Her sufferings from epilepsy ended that aspiration.  What was it?  A grand mal seizure?  She wasn’t penniless and some brother scooped up what was left.

Maybe she wanted closure.  That seems to be important with some people.  The idea of never knowing what happened to someone once considered a friend.  Maybe…

No one joins a cult knowing that it is a cult.  Some getting out know that it is a cult while others simply realize it’s not what they thought they joined in the first place.  Some of us were unceremoniously ousted flat on our asses straight into hospitals.  At least two were dumped off in front of mental hospitals.  Not to worry; someday someone from the group will come along to piss on our graves and then continue begging for quarters while carrying a tin coffee can in front of the super store all in the name of progressive change.  There’s not too many of them left.

January 2, 2018

I don’t know who you are…

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 20:31

At this point, I probably don’t care anymore.

Troll, apologist, bored loser — I don’t know, nor do I care.  No one reached out inquiring about his brother recently, someone I supposedly had an intimate relationship with at the tender age of ten.  Yet this subject continues to return as a matter of blame.  Ten year olds do not seduce grown men.  That’s what the pedophiles believe, as justification for their lurid behavior.  While suffering years of physical, mental, and psychological abuse, that relationship didn’t happen.  Sorry, Charlie, but you’re going to have to go fishing in another pond.

It amazes me that some of the old venom keeps kicking from time to time.  Maybe it’s because I’ve kept my mouth shut in regards to former contributors.  If they wanted to be known, they were free to post under their names (legal or pseudonym, doesn’t particularly matter much).  Someone once tried analyzing the different writing styles and declared multiple personalities.  Uh, not willing to go for the simpler (and true) explanation of multiple persons?  Right…

I don’t know where is the brother, which entity he supposedly worked at, what happened to him, or even what is his name.  What I do know is that the person claiming a ten-year old seduced a grown man needs to do the research.  Let the experts explain why pedophiles allow such delusions to persist.  Blaming the child for being the victim?  Hell, didn’t even happen to me, but that’s something that someone is unwilling to accept.  It’s been kicking around for seven or eight years.

Occasionally, I get the sincere inquiry.  Is such-and-such a front?  Do I have any idea what happened to so-and-so?  What’s happening in the front organizations?  Not much, aside from complaints about lack of delivering, but that’s another story.  Yes, another complaint from a person with a disability denied benefits because she did not volunteer enough time.  More stories of abysmal holiday distributions (the nuns delivered more baskets in one single day than one of the fronts did all season, and they ran for two weeks straight).

It’s not about boo hoo.  Whatever tears there were, they were long ago shed.  It’s my opinion that the various discussions are practically nil because most survivors moved on with their lives.  Sure, we can’t deny that the cult had an impact on our lives — should have taken the right turn instead of the left, you see.  Still, it’s noteworthy that the present is more important than the past for us.  As for my being discredited, so be it.  When the three of us started this blog, we knew someone sooner or later was going to throw the feces.  So, last one at the table ends up paying the diner check, and I’m okay with that.

It’s difficult to find out what’s happening inside the secret core of the cult.  We can only rely on survivor stories.  Those who didn’t survive are six feet under, victims of cult abuse.  How many died because they couldn’t get treatment for serious medical conditions including cancer?  Or when the cult decided it had to act, it was too late?  Yet it’s okay for the top leaders to ride around in fancy limousines, diamonds, and real furs.  It’s also okay to make members surrender all assets, inheritances, and dowries.  (Sarcasm, in case you didn’t get that in the last two sentences.).

I think not.

There’s no point in continuing the conversation.  I think it’s been said many times before, far more eloquently than it’s been said today.  Ten year olds do not seduce grown men.

December 10, 2017

You doxied me?

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 12:09

Every now and again, I receive an e-mail from someone I knew long ago in a cult far, far away.  It’s usually kind of like hi, how are you doing, good to see you’re nuts/fine/okay, etc.  Sometimes it’s angry, bitter, cold, hostile — how dare I post this dribble on the net, I’m a pathological liar, I’m reinventing history.  I received a curious correspondence from a person that I’ve never heard of, and rather assumed after my response that would be the end of the matter.  The person proved most persistent.

This woman is on a mission of getting into heaven.  She is atoning for her sins, going way back to childhood, not too worried about the ‘accidentally on purpose’ causing someone to scrap a knee, but more concerned about the serious and egregious things she had done in her youth.  She is proud that she found Jesus.

I didn’t know Jesus was lost — ba-DUMB-t’ass.

She wants me to forgive her for what she did to me.  I kind of scratched my head, thought about growing up in desperate poverty, vicious abuse, and losing out on many opportunities.  I only had a name but quite frankly it didn’t ring any bells.  I wanted to be friendly instead of snarky but this woman insisted she was once one of my best friends until she completely and totally ruined my life.  Pray do tell more!  At that instant, I knew someone was trolling or seriously deluded.

I decided what the hell and go along with it for a while.  After all, I’ve had former cultists as well as some of their family members make some interesting claims (the one about being a ten-year old girl seducing someone’s brother into joining the cult, yes, that kind of perverted claim that pedophiles like to insist upon).  Maybe this woman was using a married name, divorced name, whatever.  In the meantime, I’ve started hunting down a copy of my old yearbook.  In the number of moves, it became lost along the way.

The incident that ruined my life, apparently, was this woman’s claim it was her fault I was accused of cheating on the SAT.  Well, that was true.  I remember that day taking the test along with three hundred or so other classmates.  Every administrator was parading about the gym where the chairs with the one arm desk platforms were lined up in neat rows and sections.  It was very cold.  I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt.  I remember the embarrassment when the principal walked up to me, grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt, and hauled me out of the gym.

This woman had my attention.  I responded that it was true, I was accused of cheating on the SAT.  I asked her how it was her fault.  After all, I suppose it could have been like the pseudoscience fake mind readers and psychics who use the cold method before honing in on a victim in an audience.  Someone with a name starting with J is trying to contact, some with a first name that starts with the letter M, and then an A.  We’ve all seen that scam.

She said she was the one that balled up the index card and threw it at me so she wouldn’t get caught.  Okay, definitely getting my attention, because the principal did find a wadded up index card near the hood of my sweatshirt.  I suppose if I had shorter hair, whoever had thrown it would have scored three points.  That was a little too creepy knowing about the hooded sweatshirt and the crumpled up index card.  It brought back a lot of bad memories.

Cheating on the SAT is a serious offense in high school.  Back in the days, it was an important test that, if scored well enough, could open doors for scholarships.  I studied very hard for the test, wanting to do the best.  I never got to finish, nor did I get to retake the test.  Someone had meticulously written on the card a series of answers in the tiniest print imaginable.  Some of the punishment was immediate.  I was kicked out of the honor society.  My schedule was changed, moving me into lower classes (regular English instead of honors English).  I was pulled out of several elective classes.  I had enough to graduate but even that was under scrutiny.  Without the SAT, all sorts of scholarship offers disappeared.

I’ve been trying to remember how long it took for the investigation into the matter to take.  I was thinking like a month, maybe two.  While the principal eventually conceded that the handwriting on the card was not mine, just the fact that I had it was damning.  The answers on that card were spot on correct.  It wasn’t the complete test answers.  No, I suppose that would have been a miracle.  My answers were mostly correct.  They decided I was smart enough to know that a perfect score would have been too suspicious.

I never understood why the entire test was not invalidated.  After all, they did say that someone else must have been involved and they wanted me to give up the names.  How could I give them something I didn’t have?  The only reason I wasn’t expelled was because my father threatened and eventually began legal proceedings against the school.  He may have been a mostly absent parent, but that was one of the rare times that he came through for me.  The rest of the school year, I suffered silently.  Yes, I graduated, but I was not allowed to walk on stage to get my diploma.

That was a very long time ago.

I was angry at being reminded of such things.  However, I did not trust the contact by a person claiming she was the one who threw the balled up card at me.  She said she panicked.  She said she was one of my best friends.  She felt bad for distancing herself from me, pretty much like everyone else did.  I only had one friend who believed me.  Most of my siblings saw it as another way to torment me.  At the time, I was aware of most of the half-brothers and sisters in my strange family.  My father married four times and God only knows how many he had on the side.  I think it was sixteen or seventeen brothers and sisters (currently it’s up to twenty-two known).

It was her claim that she was my best friend that didn’t sit well with me.  I had no idea who the hell she was.  Now, I’m not going to come up with a deus ex machina and say I miraculously obtained another copy of my high school yearbook.  Those are pretty much lost in time.  The school might have one on display or on a shelf somewhere, but they don’t have any for sale (original or reproductions).  No one has ever bothered organizing a class reunion just for our graduating class.  They’ve done reunions for several classes at once.  It’s simply too small of a school and too much lack of interest from alumni to warrant the effort.  After what happened to me, I’m certainly not going to invest money to fly three thousand miles.

I told her I still did not know her.  I was unable to forgive her as long as she maintained that I was her best friend.  You see, she wants forgiveness.  Maybe she was the one who threw the crumpled card.  That, I could forgive.  Doing so under a false pretense of once being friends?  Yeah, nice try.  I didn’t hear back from her for a couple of weeks.  When she did resume contact, she had more ‘proof’ that we knew each other.  She included an old photo, kind of blurry, probably scanned I guess (I don’t know).  It was the night of a band concert and I was supposedly one of the oboists.  Maybe there was some likeness but I wasn’t in the band nor did I ever play the oboe.  It was still creepy because I always did want to play the oboe but couldn’t afford lessons.

After I told her I was not in the band, I thought that was the end of it.  It took a few days, but she resumed contact.  I realized she was still cold reading the situation.  She claimed she sent the wrong photo.  She had a different photo, another grainy reproduction, of a high school play.  Yeah, after what happened with the SAT, even if I did want to be in the play, I certainly wasn’t allowed.  I was kicked out of everything extracurricular.  Okay, another miss in the cold reading.  The pros know to move on.

It didn’t take long for the next photo to arrive, and this one was digitally cleaned up (I’m guessing).  Before my fall from grace, I was the one delegated from a school club to present a scroll to the school board in appreciation of them opting to continue offering some language classes as electives.  They eliminated German and Russian (I think also Norwegian or some other like it) but kept the major Romance languages.  Clearly, this person was honing in.

Well, okay, you made a hit.  It’s an impressive feat considering how long ago these events occurred and how little is on the internet.  Even I can’t find that old photo on the school site.  It may have been in the yearbook.  It made me wonder why this woman was selecting me out of three hundred or so classmates for this particular contact.  I was convinced it was a scam, an elaborate hoax, or just someone completely off her rocker.  If the contact had initiated through this blog, I would have chalked it up to one of the apologists just screwing with me.

Now you’re probably wondering how did this woman initiate contact.  It came in the strangest way.  Not Facebook or any mainstream social media.  It came through a creative writing website.  Yes, a bizarre platform to initiate such a strange contact.  And of course my error was not unchecking a box that said publish my e-mail address.  The first couple of contacts came through messages on that site but eventually started coming to my personal e-mail.  The box has since been unchecked, in case you’re thinking of doing a doxie.

It remains unanswered her real motives.  I found it peculiar that someone on a relatively specific and kind of maybe popular but didn’t make the top ten writing platforms just coincidentally happened to be a person sitting behind me at the SAT exam.  I don’t know what this person has to gain with such a ruse.  She wasn’t aware that I was once involved in a cult, or maybe she’s waiting to spring that on me if she chooses to continue with the charade.

If she wants forgiveness for ruining my life by throwing that crumpled up card at me, I would gladly give it.  I can’t do anything to change the past.  Yet I can’t give it because she said she was my best friend and I have no idea who the hell she is.  I tried searching the internet.  It was one of those common names that generates thousands of hits in general.  In my old stomping grounds, it generated probably a fair number of hits.  As I honed in closer, I did find someone with that name who was in the graduating class.

This is where I get really bitter.  That person did go to college and graduated not with high honors but still that’s better than no college.  She worked in retail for a while, married well, had a family, grandchildren, lived a relatively comfortable life, takes cruises as vacations, once traveled Europe, even entered local politics as a minor city official.  If she was the one who threw that card at me, it was unfair for me.  She led a charmed life, it seemed.  I guess I did feel a little jealous until I remembered that someone was scamming me for something.

What did this person have to gain?  She is born again and needs forgiveness from those she wronged during her life.  She said she wronged me and most needed my forgiveness.  I didn’t know this person.  She was never a friend of mine.  She wasn’t in any of my classes that I can remember, either before or after the fall.  It was over thirty years ago, so maybe my memory is faulty.  Sorry, doll face, but even if we did know each other, I can’t forgive you.  You’ll have to settle knowing you tried, and that meets acceptance within your born again religion.  We were not best friends like you claimed.  I didn’t run in the cliques.  I was not quite a loner, just a small circle of friends, and I lost those except one.

I haven’t heard back from her.  Maybe she’s reconsidering her contact, or maybe she’s just moving on to someone more gullible.  I don’t know, nor do I particularly care.  There are those on the internet who take delight in anonymously screwing around with people because they’re losers and it’s the only time they come out on top.  I’ll never know if she really is who she claims to be.  I’m not going to start a chain reaction of contacting someone from over thirty years ago asking if it’s really her.

This may sound irrelevant to the cult discussions, but it does offer certain opportunities to show that anyone with enough information can attempt manipulating a person into believing certain things.  Manipulative behavior is not exclusive to cults.  I almost thought about not including my secret desire to play the oboe as a kid.  I figure, what’s the harm.  It never happened and isn’t going to ever happen.  If someone wants to taunt and torment me with it, well, go for it.  I lost interest a long time ago.

Lesson learned.  The letter J is contacting the letters MA.

November 5, 2017

Lookie loos go home!

Filed under: Cult,NATLFED,Politics,Uncategorized — ghostwriter1984 @ 11:53

I think we all know the term.  Lookie loos like to carefully examine stuff for a long time before they make a decision whether or not to purchase the item.  More often than not, they’re time wasters.  They tie up the sales clerk or dealer.  Everyone else has to wait until the lookie loo is finished with his or her laundry list of questions or problems.  If you have ever been in a drive through, you hate being stuck behind that car.  Of course, in that situation the lookie loo will make a purchase (drive throughs are escape proof — once you’re in the lane, it’s barricaded so you can’t leave until passing the pay window).

Every now and again, I get one of those inquiries.  Seriously, you want to pick my brain clean and when you’re not getting the answer you want, you move on to someone else.  Personally, I don’t care what “another former cadre” told you, especially one that I’ve never met.  If it pleases you to believe a different stranger than myself, go for it.  You’re looking for a red and white checkered 1,000 thread count tablecloth but all I have is sea-foam green polyester.

A very long time ago, circuses used side-show freaks as added attractions.  Some were quite grotesque.  People gawked at the camel girl or squealed in delight when midgets juggled balls.  Persons recovering from cults are not sitting in a tent waiting for you to pay your nickel so you can have a look at how damaged we have become.  Also, the hawker or ringmaster made sure that nickel paid for a specific amount of time.  One look for one minute was one nickel.  If you wanted to stay longer, you had to give the man another nickel.

I am unwilling to apologize for the lack of online support group forums.  I think the last one practically folded, exists in name only, someone posts once in a blue moon.  Why?  People move on, lose interest, oh another troll apologist, ancient pissing contests come back to life, and the list continues.  Odds bodkins!  (Someone’s been watching pirate movies!).  If you are that rankled there isn’t an active group, start one.

The experts have large databases on the mainstream cults as well as certain eclectic groups that sensationalized headlines by drinking the special fruit punch.  When it comes to NATLFED, they have very little.  They have some press clippings, one or two personal testimonials, and maybe some forum discussions buried deep inside the archives (one site lost its archives during a transitional phase).  They are fiercely competitive with each other (yeah, cult experts saying so-and-so just took his idea from someone else).  Maybe at first they truly wanted to help people but now there is money to be made.

Over the years, a number of persons have contributed to this weird little blog that somehow continues.  Fifteen contributors, all writing under the same pseudonym.  There may have been more.  I’m not the original blog owner.  Also, I don’t keep sophisticated records.  I pissed off the last two when I took away their access.  I thought it was a simple request.  I just wanted to know if either of them gave someone the login credentials.  One vehemently denied it while the other just stopped communicating.  That’s right, you can’t trust us former cadre.  We fight, bicker, argue, sound like raving lunatics, oh my!

That’s alright.  We’re still recovering after all these years.  If you want to become a contributor, I’ll consider it, but I won’t be trusting you with the keys to the liquor cabinet.  You’ll have to settle for what’s on the bar: very cheap vodka and stale pretzels.

I can’t tell you who’s running what entity.  Well, I can, but my information is somewhat dated.  I haven’t seen a copy of Invest Yourself in a long time, but even still that guide was never 100% accurate.  I can’t even tell you who’s currently in the top leadership positions (we all know Margaret is still around).  What I can tell you is that people remain weirded out when they go to an entity, see quaint little typewriters, people typing on index cards, and yes!  Carbon paper and white out!  Some things never change.

As to the notion that the last of the original founders is still with the group?  Uh, what reality are you living in?  It started with six people, and they’re all dead.  I’m sure someone tells people she was one of the originals, but she was elsewhere.  The group was notorious for stealing various claims, such as setting up their safe house at the same place the Berrigan Brothers once hid.  If you do your research, you’ll find the truth.  I could tell you, but then again, “so-and-so” says I’m not to be believed.  (Go on, do the research…you know you want to.).

Serious inquiries will be entertained, but up until a certain point.  I’m not in this to make friends, win your respect, or smile politely while you consider 1,000 thread count versus polyester.  Unlike the sales clerks, I don’t make a dime.  There is no hawker collecting nickels for every minute you want to gawk at the freak.  Make it quick and move on because I don’t have time for you to sit on the fence.  Go sit on someone else’s fence.

If you think this is a “messed up” post, that’s fine too.  Cult survivors are damaged persons trying to recover.  There are no “NATLFED Anonymous” support groups nor 12 steps that will magically heal a person.  What I can tell you is that you’re here so you’re looking for answers (or maybe you’re the apologist troll).  Wow, starting to sound a little jaded, so I think it’s time to end this little rant.

Do the research.  I might be crazy but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.

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