No Mother Hubbard

While we're on the subject of celebrity pseudo-science around here today, I feel like it's been a dereliction of duty on my part that I haven't even bothered bringing up the impending divorce of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. It's not like I care much about Hollywood marriages, but ones that involve Scientology are both fascinating and revolting to me -- no way around that.

Since I've written quite a bit about Scientology before -- the truly conspiracy-minded have even suggested that it was my 2008 column in the Huffington Post about Anonymous's war on the "religion" that got me fired from CNN -- I've been paying some attention to all the little Scientology-related details that have emerged in the wake of last week's Tom-and-Katie split announcement. Obviously, there's the rumor that Holmes bailed when Cruise decided that he wanted to enroll their young daughter in either the "Sea Org" or one of L. Ron's other strict indoctrination programs; the spooky black SUVs that have mysteriously appeared outside Holmes's place in New York City and which have seemed to follow her everywhere since the split; the claim that Holmes said being married to Cruise was like being Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby; the list goes on and on.

While I could easily publish another acerbic, long-winded diatribe about the dangerous lunacy that is Scientology, my favorite thing about this particular topic is that I don't have to. Nobody does. Yes, Paul Haggis's extended and revealing takedown of the group, its ridiculous cosmology, and its cult-like tactics, from the inside out, was excellent -- and there's been plenty of other terrific stuff written about the insanity of Scientology. But in the end, nothing tells you everything you need to know about Scientology like ten minutes of Tom Cruise talking about it himself. I've said it before but it bears repeating yet again: I go back and watch this video clip every once in a while simply because it's just that fucking crazy. It's rare to see a movie star -- someone whose every move is generally reduced to inoffensive homogenization by an army of publicists -- allowing himself to go this far off the rails. This image of Cruise, the one we were never meant to see but which millions of us now have, should never at any point be separated from the carefully crafted, entirely bullshit image his Hollywood handlers would have us believe. The next time you see Tom Cruise acting demure and humble and otherwise behaving seemingly normal during a press junket for one of his movies, remember, this is the real him: all bukkaked with crazy via the jet-fuel semen of L. Ron Hubbard; an entire dictionary of silly, official-sounding acronymic lingo blared through an amp cranked to 11.

This is what he's momentarily tamping down for public consumption. This is what he's dying to unleash.

For Those About To Rock, Go Fuck Yourselves

Chances are no matter where you live you're used to being inundated with ads for really crappy-looking upcoming movies you have no desire to see. If you happen to live in Los Angeles, though, that pummeling is positively inescapable, since this place is ground zero for the unholy work of the film business's promotional machine. The last several weeks saw every billboard, bus bench and ten-story building in sight turned into the equivalent of an odious carnival barker, screaming his lungs out in an effort to get somebody, anybody to see Battleship.

And now that that movie has, well, sunk -- it's time to move onto the next high-profile piece of shit that Hollywood knows it's going to have to ram down the throat of the public if it wants to turn a bad greenlight decision into some kind of a profit.

That movie would be Rock of Ages.

The promotion for it around town right now is simply impossible to avoid. Everywhere you look, there's Tom Cruise shirtless in a fucking cowboy hat, fur coat and sunglasses; an uncharacteristically prudish-looking Catherine Zeta-Jones brandishing a handmade, PMRC-style anti-rock sign; Russell Brand looking like Russell Brand, and the rest of the large and otherwise indistinguishable cast of this Broadway-to-Hollywood nightmare. I've already mentioned here how I'd rather have a screwdriver rammed through my head than see Rock of Ages, but I have to throw the question out there: Who is this movie for?

No, really.

Millennials don't care about Poison, Def Leppard and -- oh dear God -- Foreigner (it's one of the few admirable attributes you can ascribe to that particular generation). There isn't a latter-day metalhead in the world who honestly wants to see a silly Broadway musical, let alone one that features Tom Cruise doing Glee-ified versions of 80s metal songs in leather pants (once again nicely putting to rest all those gay rumors). Anyone with a hint of dignity who's still somewhat enamored of what's possibly the single darkest period in rock history isn't going to be caught dead anywhere near this thing. Hell, most people who remember that era are still embarrassed they ever kind of liked Poison in the first place; it took two full decades of listening to Radiohead and Miles just to constitute an appropriate penance for our transgressions against decent music and make us feel whole again. So, again, who's it for?

The best I can come up with is 40-something suburbanite women; the ones you never wanted to get anywhere near when they were girls listening to this shit unless it held the promise of easy sex; the ones who've gone on to cling desperately to their youth through the dreck their daughters like (see: Twilight) and soulless, cloyingly nostalgic faux-celebratory horseshit they can see with their equally tragic girlfriends, like Rock of Ages. In other words, the women who still keep Bon Jovi inexplicably and unforgivably away from the state fair circuit after all these years.

I just can't see that crowd being enough to make this movie a success -- but what the hell do I know? As H.L. Mencken famously said, nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public. And nobody understands that better than Hollywood.

Rock Is Dead

A musical. Featuring Broadway versions of Night Ranger, Journey, Starship and Def Leppard songs. Starring Catherine Zeta-Jones as the obligatory uptight, anti-rock crusader cliché and Tom Cruise method-acting his way into skin-tight leather pants to play a 70s-era rock god (for the glory of L. Ron).

Somebody please, for the love of all that's holy, stop the Glee-ification of American culture.

I would seriously rather have a screwdriver jammed into my brain through my ear, like Dennis Hopper's mad bomber did to that guard at the beginning of Speed, than sit through ten minutes of Rock of Ages.

Watch this if you dare.

DXM History Repeats: Religion

As we continue our look at the pieces dealing with religion that have appeared here over the past five years, we of course turn our sites on the organization that is simultaneously not a religion at all and everything any real religion is: Scientology.

DXM Fifth Birthday Jubilee

Topic: Scientology

Number of Posts: 29

"The 'A' Team" (Originally Published in the Huffington Post, 2.1.08)

Let me start off by paraphrasing a popular disclaimer: I'm not "Anonymous," nor am I affiliated with the mysterious internet group in any way.

That said, as a fan of The X Files I love a good conspiracy theory, which means that the recent antics of the shadowy entity known only as "Anonymous" have admittedly piqued my interest. In deference to those who just stepped out of a bathysphere, Anonymous is the name that's been adopted by a self-proclaimed collective of hackers and supposedly pissed-off average folks for the purpose of meting out justice via the internet -- and it's now declared war on Scientology. Two weeks ago, the group launched the first salvo in what it says will be an extended campaign to bring down the controversial "church"; it released an eerie video message attacking Scientology's tactics and promising retaliation for what it claims is a history of lies and generally sinister behavior on the part of the organization. To its credit I guess, Anonymous didn't keep anyone waiting: It launched a series of coordinated denial-of-service attacks on the official Scientology website almost immediately, effectively shutting it down. This was supposedly followed by prank phone calls and "black fax" transmissions to Scientology offices across the country.

At least two more videos have been released by Anonymous since its initial declaration of hostilities, one promising a global protest at Scientology centers on February 10th.

Needless to say, the normally confident Scientology big shots, who've raised damage control through vindictive litigation to an art form, suddenly find themselves in an amusing PR bind: If they dismiss Anonymous as a bunch of pathetic computer geeks -- which they already have, word for word -- they appear hopelessly arrogant; If they take the group seriously, they give it power; if they just ignore it altogether, they look stupid.

In other words, for all their supposed higher-brain functions, compliments of L. Ron Hubbard's questionable teachings, they can't win this one.

A group of internet savvy kid vigilantes has, to some extent, already beaten them.

The question some are asking though is whether Anonymous has crossed the line -- whether, in its battle to expose Scientology, it's engaging in the same kind of underhanded tactics it accuses the church of. The founder of one popular anti-Scientology website, Operation Clambake, has already criticized the group's supposed skulduggery, claiming that it'll only put Scientologists in a position to play the religious persecution card.

Maybe, but honestly -- who cares?

Almost since its inception as an organization, Scientology has been involved in one unscrupulous scheme or another -- at various points guilty of fraud, exploitation of its adherents for financial gain, and the illegal infiltration of government agencies. It's upheld the basic edict of its paranoid narcissist founder and set out to destroy its critics through intimidation, innuendo and impossibly dirty tricks. It was once called the "most lucrative cult the country has ever seen" by the Cult Awareness Network, a watchdog group which was eventually taken over by associates of the Church of Scientology. The whole thing, including the silly cosmology that serves as the basis for Scientology's belief system -- the kind of nonsense only a hack sci-fi writer could dream up -- would be laughable if it weren't so damn scary.

Anonymous claims that it was the Church of Scientology's efforts to suppress the recently leaked and utterly surreal video tribute to Tom Cruise which led to its decision to take action. Admittedly, watching Cruise -- looking not simply crazy but dangerously crazy -- spouting Hubbard's official-sounding acronymic lingo and making ex cathedra declarations of "no mercy" for psychiatrists is as mesmerizing as it is frightening. He almost seems like he's channeling his Frank T.J. Mackey character from Magnolia, demanding that we all "respect the crock."

The problem of course is that if you say any of this too loudly, the church will have no compunction about removing the choke collar from its legal pit bulls, which is what makes the mischievous guerilla attacks of Anonymous tough not to enjoy a little -- provided they never cross the line into the realm of genuine terrorism.

The bottom line: It's kind of satisfying to watch someone turn the tables on Scientology, using the same brand of furtive cloak-and-dagger absurdity to publicly shame an adversary that the church has used for decades.

If the Scientology people knew who to file a lawsuit against, you can bet it would've already happened.

That's why it's so much fun that they're left chasing shadows.

Men on Film

A transcript of the conversation Votar and I had on Facebook yesterday while having lunch:

Status Update: OK, so, beer and wings... and today's topic of conversation is (drum roll please): the name of the newly announced Top Gun sequel. Go!

Votar: Top Gun 2: Massive Ordnance Delivery Package

Votar: Top Gun 2: Someone Please Fight Us

Votar: Top Gun 2: Payload Specialists

Chez: Top Gun 2: Behind Enemy Lines... Or Just Behind the Enemy

Votar: Top Gun 2: Improvised Explosive Devices

Chez: Top Gun 2: Ass Sex!

Votar: Top Gun 2: The Butt Locker

Chez: Top Gun 2: Queer of Flying

Chez: Top Gun Re-load-ed

Votar: Top Gun 2: Weapons of Ass Destruction

Chez: Top Gun 2: Electric Buggerloo

Chez: Top Gun 2: Bugger Buster

Chez: Top Gun 2: Full Frontal Aggression (or in Military Lingo: FFAGG)

Chez: Top Gun 2: Wings of the White Swallow


Chez: Top Gun 2: Cum Again

Votar: Top Gun 2: Blowing Maverick

Chez: Top Gun 2: Extreme Homo Makeover

Chez: Top Gun 2: The Musical

Chez: Top Gun 2: Men in Tight

Votar: Top Gun 2: Sit in the Cockspit

Chez: Top Gun 2: Flame Out

Chez: Top Gun 2: Fire and Iceman

Chez: Top Gun 2: To Mav and Have Cock (too movie geekish?)

Votar: Top Gun 2: Goose Juice

Votar: Top Gun 2: Premature Ejection

Chez: Top Gun 2: You've Lost That Coming-on-My-Back Feeling

Chez: Top Gun 2: Butt Pilots

Votar: Top Gun 2: Hershey Highway To the Danger Zone

Votar: Top Gun 2: Timetable for Withdrawal

Chez: Top Gun 2: "That Faggoty White Uniform"

Chez: Top Gun 2: If We Stop Having Man-Sex, the Terrorists Win

Votar: Top Gun 2: InsemiNation Building

Votar: Top Gun 2: Negative Ghostrider, the Sphincter is Full

Votar: Top Gun 2: Leave the Comedy To the Professionals

Political Scientology

As you all know by now, I never miss an opportunity to pass along negative press about the batshit lunacy known as Scientology.

From today's Open Salon:

"In a bizarre turn of events, an Australian Member of Parliament has accused the Church of Scientology of all manner of crimes from the floor of the Senate.

In a senate speech late on Tuesday, independent south Australia senator Nick Xenophon said: 'Scientology is not a religious organisation. It is a criminal organisation that hides behind its so-called religious beliefs.'

The senator tabled letters he received from former Scientology members detailing claims of abuse, false imprisonment, forced abortion, embezzlement and the covering up of children’s deaths.

Xenophon quoted Aaron Saxton, from Perth, who said he engaged in torture and blackmail while working for the church in Australia and at its American headquarters between 1989 and 1996.

'Aaron says women who fell pregnant were taken to offices and bullied to have an abortion. If they refused, they faced demotion and hard labour,' Xenophon said. 'Aaron says one staff member used a coat hanger and self-aborted her child for fear of punishment.'"

Now sure, the name of the Australian MP, "Xenophon," is pretty damn funny given that the name of the supposed evil galactic overlord preached as part of Scientology's silly cosmology is named "Xenu." But what makes this interesting is that once again someone in a high-ranking position in government has brought up the dangerous, unmitigated nonsense that is the Church of Scientology in an official capacity -- ensuring that his claims can't simply be swept under the rug or threatened away by the organization's team of voracious legal pit bulls.

What this story really is, though, is an excuse for me to run the Tom Cruise Scientology video again in its entirety. I swear, I still watch this every once in awhile and it never gets old. It's that fucking crazy.

Seriously, for the rest of Cruise's career -- every time one of his movies hits theaters and you see him doing press for it, seeming completely calm and sane -- just remember that this is the real him:

Mormonism vs. Scientology (Round 2: Be Wary, Be Wary the 10th of February)

The second part of our deathmatch between Mormonism and Scientology comes from February of this year, when the internet group "Anonymous" declared war on L. Ron Hubbard's magical space cult. This column was written exclusively for the Huffington Post.

Let me start off by paraphrasing a popular disclaimer: I'm not "Anonymous," nor am I affiliated with the mysterious internet group in any way.

That said, as a fan of The X Files I love a good conspiracy theory, which means that the recent antics of the shadowy entity known only as "Anonymous" have admittedly piqued my interest. In deference to those who just stepped out of a bathysphere, Anonymous is the name that's been adopted by a self-proclaimed collective of hackers and supposedly pissed-off average folks for the purpose of meting out justice via the internet -- and it's now declared war on Scientology. Two weeks ago, the group launched the first salvo in what it says will be an extended campaign to bring down the controversial "church"; it released an eerie video message attacking Scientology's tactics and promising retaliation for what it claims is a history of lies and generally sinister behavior on the part of the organization. To its credit I guess, Anonymous didn't keep anyone waiting: It launched a series of coordinated denial-of-service attacks on the official Scientology website almost immediately, effectively shutting it down. This was supposedly followed by prank phone calls and "black fax" transmissions to Scientology offices across the country.

At least two more videos have been released by Anonymous since its initial declaration of hostilities, one promising a global protest at Scientology centers on February 10th.

Needless to say, the normally confident Scientology big shots, who've raised damage control through vindictive litigation to an art form, suddenly find themselves in an amusing PR bind: If they dismiss Anonymous as a bunch of pathetic computer geeks -- which they already have, word for word -- they appear hopelessly arrogant; If they take the group seriously, they give it power; if they just ignore it altogether, they look stupid.

In other words, for all their supposed higher-brain functions, compliments of L. Ron Hubbard's questionable teachings, they can't win this one.

A group of internet savvy kid vigilantes has, to some extent, already beaten them.

The question some are asking though is whether Anonymous has crossed the line -- whether, in its battle to expose Scientology, it's engaging in the same kind of underhanded tactics it accuses the church of. The founder of one popular anti-Scientology website, Operation Clambake, has already criticized the group's supposed skulduggery, claiming that it'll only put Scientologists in a position to play the religious persecution card.

Maybe, but honestly -- who cares?

Almost since its inception as an organization, Scientology has been involved in one unscrupulous scheme or another -- at various points guilty of fraud, exploitation of its adherents for financial gain, and the illegal infiltration of government agencies. It's upheld the basic edict of its paranoid narcissist founder and set out to destroy its critics through intimidation, innuendo and impossibly dirty tricks. It was once called the "most lucrative cult the country has ever seen" by the Cult Awareness Network, a watchdog group which was eventually taken over by associates of the Church of Scientology. The whole thing, including the silly cosmology that serves as the basis for Scientology's belief system -- the kind of nonsense only a hack sci-fi writer could dream up -- would be laughable if it weren't so damn scary.

Anonymous claims that it was the Church of Scientology's efforts to suppress the recently leaked and utterly surreal video tribute to Tom Cruise which led to its decision to take action. Admittedly, watching Cruise -- looking not simply crazy but dangerously crazy -- spouting Hubbard's official-sounding acronymic lingo and making ex cathedra declarations of "no mercy" for psychiatrists is as mesmerizing as it is frightening. He almost seems like he's channeling his Frank T.J. Mackey character from Magnolia, demanding that we all "respect the crock."

The problem of course is that if you say any of this too loudly, the church will have no compunction about removing the choke collar from its legal pit bulls, which is what makes the mischievous guerilla attacks of Anonymous tough not to enjoy a little -- provided they never cross the line into the realm of genuine terrorism.

The bottom line: It's kind of satisfying to watch someone turn the tables on Scientology, using the same brand of furtive cloak-and-dagger absurdity to publicly shame an adversary that the church has used for decades.

If the Scientology people knew who to file a lawsuit against, you can bet it would've already happened.

That's why it's so much fun that they're left chasing shadows.

Related:

DXM: I'm Tom Cruise and I'm Going to Crush Your Fucking Skull While Laughing Maniacally/1.18.08

Quote of the Week (Honorable Mention)

"I guess this means we've officially buried the hatchet, but if he pulls that fucking shit again, I will drop a building on this guy."

-- Matt Lauer talking about Tom Cruise, who participated in a roast of the NBC anchor at New York's Friar's Club today

The "A" Team

Since the elusive internet vigilante group known only as "Anonymous" has chosen to once again make its presence known, I thought I'd revisit something I wrote back in February of this year. This piece was never published here; it was exclusive to the Huffington Post. It deals with Anonymous's strange and somewhat gratifying war on Scientology.

Let me start off by paraphrasing a popular disclaimer: I'm not "Anonymous," nor am I affiliated with the mysterious internet group in any way.

That said, as a fan of The X Files I love a good conspiracy theory, which means that the recent antics of the shadowy entity known only as "Anonymous" have admittedly piqued my interest. In deference to those who just stepped out of a bathysphere, Anonymous is the name that's been adopted by a self-proclaimed collective of hackers and supposedly pissed-off average folks for the purpose of meting out justice via the internet -- and it's now declared war on Scientology. Two weeks ago, the group launched the first salvo in what it says will be an extended campaign to bring down the controversial "church"; it released an eerie video message attacking Scientology's tactics and promising retaliation for what it claims is a history of lies and generally sinister behavior on the part of the organization. To its credit I guess, Anonymous didn't keep anyone waiting: It launched a series of coordinated denial-of-service attacks on the official Scientology website almost immediately, effectively shutting it down. This was supposedly followed by prank phone calls and "black fax" transmissions to Scientology offices across the country.

At least two more videos have been released by Anonymous since its initial declaration of hostilities, one promising a global protest at Scientology centers on February 10th.

Needless to say, the normally confident Scientology big shots, who've raised damage control through vindictive litigation to an art form, suddenly find themselves in an amusing PR bind: If they dismiss Anonymous as a bunch of pathetic computer geeks -- which they already have, word for word -- they appear hopelessly arrogant; If they take the group seriously, they give it power; if they just ignore it altogether, they look stupid.

In other words, for all their supposed higher-brain functions, compliments of L. Ron Hubbard's questionable teachings, they can't win this one.

A group of internet savvy kid vigilantes has, to some extent, already beaten them.

The question some are asking though is whether Anonymous has crossed the line -- whether, in its battle to expose Scientology, it's engaging in the same kind of underhanded tactics it accuses the church of. The founder of one popular anti-Scientology website, Operation Clambake, has already criticized the group's supposed skulduggery, claiming that it'll only put Scientologists in a position to play the religious persecution card.

Maybe, but honestly -- who cares?

Almost since its inception as an organization, Scientology has been involved in one unscrupulous scheme or another -- at various points guilty of fraud, exploitation of its adherents for financial gain, and the illegal infiltration of government agencies. It's upheld the basic edict of its paranoid narcissist founder and set out to destroy its critics through intimidation, innuendo and impossibly dirty tricks. It was once called the "most lucrative cult the country has ever seen" by the Cult Awareness Network, a watchdog group which was eventually taken over by associates of the Church of Scientology. The whole thing, including the silly cosmology that serves as the basis for Scientology's belief system -- the kind of nonsense only a hack sci-fi writer could dream up -- would be laughable if it weren't so damn scary.

Anonymous claims that it was the Church of Scientology's efforts to suppress the recently leaked and utterly surreal video tribute to Tom Cruise which led to its decision to take action. Admittedly, watching Cruise -- looking not simply crazy but dangerously crazy -- spouting Hubbard's official-sounding acronymic lingo and making ex cathedra declarations of "no mercy" for psychiatrists is as mesmerizing as it is frightening. He almost seems like he's channeling his Frank T.J. Mackey character from Magnolia, demanding that we all "respect the crock."

The problem of course is that if you say any of this too loudly, the church will have no compunction about removing the choke collar from its legal pit bulls, which is what makes the mischievous guerilla attacks of Anonymous tough not to enjoy a little -- provided they never cross the line into the realm of genuine terrorism.

The bottom line: It's kind of satisfying to watch someone turn the tables on Scientology, using the same brand of furtive cloak-and-dagger absurdity to publicly shame an adversary that the church has used for decades.

If the Scientology people knew who to file a lawsuit against, you can bet it would've already happened.

That's why it's so much fun that they're left chasing shadows.

I'm Tom Cruise, and I'm Going to Crush Your Fucking Skull While Laughing Maniacally

I realize that the "Tom Cruise hearts Scientology" video has been just about everywhere over the past couple of days. Still, it's one of those rare cultural curiosities that, for whatever reason, I can't seem to get enough of.

It's just mesmerizing in its unbridled surreality -- like being bukkaked with crazy.

There's really very little that I can add in reference to the unhinged lunacy of Cruise these days; most of it's already been contemplated at length by sources far more notable than myself.

I guess all that I can muster -- besides a somewhat horrified "What the fuck?" -- is that if Cruise weren't a movie star, Congress would already have passed a law bearing his name aimed at keeping him 100 yards away from the innocent.

He doesn't simply look insane in the leaked promotional video, he looks dangerously insane. Demonically possessed. As in, he really should've been a shoe-in to play the new Joker.

On the one hand, it's a trainwreck that bests even Britney or maybe the 1996 remake of The Island of Dr. Moreau for sheer hypnotic power. When you think about where Tom Cruise once was -- his place in the Hollywood hierarchy and in America's hearts -- compared to what he's become in the collective consciousness, it's almost unfathomable. Even Janeane Garofalo's decision to forgo a promising film career in favor of becoming a humorless lesbian doesn't come close.

It's truly rare that you see a person who's spent a majority of his life carefully under the control and, it would seem, sedation of highly-trained publicists go completely off the fucking rails.

In some ways, it's almost admirable to watch him commit career suicide with such bombastic finality.

Behold the power of Scientology, I suppose.

Which does, I admit, bring up an interesting question: Do ridiculous little men like Scientology's current chief David Miscavige really think that Cruise is doing their silly "religion" a favor? There's just no way that anyone with the kind of mind Scientology purports to be able to create can honestly buy Cruise's antics as good for the religion -- that a guy who's pissed away a huge career and turned himself into a laughing stock is somehow going to be the most effective advocate for the product that led to his exile from the grown-ups' table.

"I'm Tom Cruise, and just look at what Scientology did for me!"

I don't know -- that doesn't seem very, well, smart.



Hmm...

You know something, now that I watch this video again -- I feel like I've seen it somewhere before...