Nov 18, 2024
Aberrations of Power: Leadership in Totalist Groups (Synanon)
November 18th is recognized as International Cult Awareness Day
" … Synanon was a residential drug treatment group founded in California by Chuck Dederich, in 1958. Synanon’s treatment was based on the “Game,” a confrontational group session during which participants critically considered the defenses and illusions that sustained their substance abuse. Within months, Synanon claimed to be an effective means of controlling not only alcoholism but drug addiction, as well. Between 1958 and 1968, the group processed over 5000 individuals (Gerstel, 1982).
The purported success of this program as a treatment for drug addiction was based primarily on unsubstantiated reports in the press (Ofshe, 1980). While it is likely that members did remain drug free and sober while in residence (given the no-nonsense, confrontational Synanon approach), there is little formal documentation that Synanon provided a successful cure for individuals who moved to non-resident status (Ofshe, 1980). In time, such graduation ceased to be a goal of the organization. Its fame as a successful drug program led to donations, grants and expansion that permitted it to open businesses staffed by (unpaid) Synanon members (Gerstel, 1984). By 1967 Synanon had over 800 members in various residence facilities and had begun to admit non-addicted individuals from the community. The Game was offered as a powerful, albeit traumatic, means of self-exploration. Obviously it also served as a blunt instrument of punishment and control.
In 1968, Dederich formally re-conceptualized Synanon as a communal living experiment open to all. Entry required attending “boot camp” complete with sleep loss, vigorous exercise and other humiliating initiation activities. Game “marathons” lasting over 24 hours became common at this point. (Gerstel, 1984). By 1975 Dederich had declared Synanon to be a religion, renounced his vows of poverty, allocated himself a substantial salary, and established a luxury residence for himself and his entourage. Dederich could broadcast at will to all Synanon locations and used this communication system, “the wire,” to humiliate any Synanon member who displeased him (e.g., Gerstel, 1984).
Promiscuous sexual activity at Synanon had long been tolerated and by 1977, was actively encouraged as a means of establishing “mutual love” among group members (Gerstel, 1984). Dederich’s power was reflected in the effectiveness of this edict even among married members as well as his success encouraging abortion and vasectomies for group members (Ofshe, 1980). By the mid 1970’s, the group abandoned non-violence and formed armed security details designed to “protect” the group from outsiders as well as to discipline unruly members -- particularly resistant adolescents. By 1975, these security personnel had engaged in physical attacks on local neighbors, the beating of an ex-Synanon member, and a case in which an “enemy” attorney was bitten by a rattlesnake placed in his mailbox—a crime that eventually resulted in Dederich's accepting a plea bargain of five years probation (Gerstel, 1984). Synanon then lost a series of lawsuits stemming from the physical assaults made by the group. The IRS revoked their tax-exempt status in 1986. Synanon was formally disbanded in 1991, and in 1997 Chuck Dederich died of heart and lung failure in California where he was living in a trailer park (Yee, 1997).
Theoretical Analyses of Synanon (Social Identity Theory)
In accord with a social identity view, group salience in Synanon was high given the residential nature of membership. Similarly, given the initiation ordeals, it is safe to assume that among those who chose to remain, group commitment and identification were very high (Baron, 2001; Pratkanis & Aronson, 2000). Moreover, the intense mortification process entailed in Gaming, recurrently encountered by both neophytes and veterans, was specifically designed to challenge members’ feelings of esteem and self-efficacy—conditions we have emphasized earlier as facilitating conditions for group identification. Given that Dederich lived among the other members, participated in Games on a weekly basis, and for years did not take obvious material advantage of his leadership position, one could argue that he was viewed as a prototypic group member. Thus, Dederich was deeply admired within the group and his opinions on a wide range of issues (from sexual promiscuity to the need for brutal mutual criticism) defined normative opinion and behavior within the group. In addition, Dederich took positions that differentiated him from those outside the group on a number of issues (e.g., private property, promiscuity). Thus, conforming to his “prototypic” opinions helped establish the distinction between Synanon members and those outside the group. In short, in several respects, Dederich’s leadership style corresponds to that outlined by social identity theory.
However, as above, Dederich did not emerge as a leader because his attitudes and behaviors happened to correspond to prototypic group norms. Rather, as creator of the group, such norms were defined by whichever opinions and actions he favored. This fact does not correspond to the analysis offered by (Hogg, 2001). In addition, while there is little doubt that Dederich’s leadership stemmed in part from his prototypic status as Hogg’s analysis maintains, it is clear that Dederich aura of charisma was to his abilities as a speaker, manager, and innovator, over and above any attributional bias on the part of his membership. On the other hand, Hogg’s suggestion that leaders come to rely more on coercive and reward power as they begin to distance themselves from the group is congruent with the fact that Dederich expanded his use of physical discipline as he adopted luxurious privileges not available to others. In short, the social identity perspective corresponds in some but not all respects to the leadership history within Synanon.
Transformational Theory
One can also make a reasonable case that Dederich’s leadership pattern represents the pseudo-transformational style alluded to by Bass (1998). Group members stood to gain any one of several transactional benefits, including a life free of drug addiction and crime (in the cases of drug addict members). Dederich offered inspirational leadership, a transcendent purpose, and individual consideration of group members. However, Dederich had little toleration of dissent, was an expert in humiliation and criticism of his followers, focused on punishing transgressions (as opposed to rewarding correct behavior), and was manipulative and Machiavellian in dealing with the group. Thus, Bass’s conception of pseudo-transformational leadership provides a close description of Dederich’s leadership style within Synanon."
#CultAwarenessDay #jonestown #Synanon #violence #exploitation #terrorism
#igotout #indoctriNation #religioustrauma #religiousabuse #manipulators #cultexpert #psychology #cultrecovery #cultsurvivors #cult #cultspecialist #suicide
https://www.cultawarenessday.com/
Jul 15, 2024
‘It was a cult’: Traumatizing troubled teens
Jan 30, 2024
Ex-Synanon Members Break Down Cult's Mixed Legacy and What America Can Learn From It
January 29, 2024
Sandra Rogers-Hare and Cassidy Arkin are the mother-daughter duo behind Paramount+’s new docuseries, Born in Synanon. Rather than sensationalize the story of the cult known as Synanon, the series challenges viewers to reflect on what really went wrong in hopes that future communities and countercultures can avoid the same mistakes.
Rogers-Hare was drawn to Synanon as a young activist intrigued by the community and The Game, which seemingly put everyone on equal footing regardless of class or race and went against societal norms. She met her husband through The Game—the group’s signature, harsh form of group therapy—and they eventually decided to devote their lives to Synanon, giving up the majority of their belongings and moving onto Synanon’s property. Their daughter, Arkin, was born and raised in Synanon until age 6.
It’s hard to judge Rogers-Hare and her husband for joining Synanon because, at one point, it seemed to have found the key to creating a utopia. It was a fully racially integrated community, which was unusual in the ’60s and ’70s. It offered drug rehab at a time when resources for people with an addiction were rare. There was no violence, everyone shared everything, and there was at least an illusion of a truly equal society. However, by the time Arkin was 6, it had devolved into a cult. Synanon’s founder, Chuck Dederich, turned to alcoholism, bringing violence and forced partner swaps, abortions, and vasectomies to a once peaceful community.
I had the opportunity to sit down with Arkin and Rogers-Hare to dig deeper into their perspective on Synanon.
What really happened to Synanon?
It’s impossible to discuss what happened to Synanon without discussing Dederich. Born in Synanon expresses a sentiment that Synanon was a utopia until one person, Dederich, destroyed everything. Both Arkin and Rogers-Hare agree that Dederich was one of the critical components of Synanon’s fall. Rogers-Hare revealed that even members of Synanon were uncertain about whether they would survive past their founder.
She explained, “We studied the Mennonites and a number of utopian groups, and what we understood was that very few survived past the founder. Very few survive. We expected to survive past the founder, but I moved in when I was in my 20s, so I had no concept that he would die … I certainly didn’t expect him to go to become an alcoholic again and to systematically destroy it. None of us had that on our radar.”
Despite hoping to survive and be the exception, Rogers-Hare admitted, “We knew that things could change.” Arkin also emphasized Dederich’s role in Synanon’s downfall. Although Synanon is now often labeled one of the most dangerous cults in America, Arkin doesn’t see it that way. The danger wasn’t necessarily in the cult or group of people—the danger was in Dederich.
She stated,
Well, I think that Syanon was not a dangerous cult. I think in many ways, the danger is one person. What happens when one person has power, and you’re so close to that person that you’re unaware of how the society or the community is devolving and becoming something other. Because the majority of the people who moved into Synanon and were a part of Synanon were literally taking their lives, changing their lives, knowing that they themselves were creating and investing in this community to do good for others. So, we were all, in many ways, kind of like walking down this blind road, not understanding how bad things were going to be… And that really is your takeaway with Born in Synanon, is one person went AWOL and everything was lost.
Was Synanon ever a utopia?
At the same time, when examining Synanon deeply, one will find societal flaws. These flaws may not have ended Synanon, but they show that the community wasn’t always what it seemed. For example, former Synanon members like Arkin and Carina Ray have expressed that they never experienced significant racism or segregation in Synanon, but Akrin and Rogers-Hare were careful to emphasize that though there may not have been racism, there certainly was classism.
Arkin explained, “We were very diverse, and it wasn’t a thought of, oh, my God, we have black and white people together, and we’re all hanging out. We have character disorders and prison inmates, and we have philanthropists. And that was never the thing because we were very much about being integrated and a community that really cherished each other for who they were.”
But Synanon was never quite an equal society despite, as Rogers-Hare described, its members “pontificating” about not having discrimination. Rogers-Hare pointed to Isabel Wilkerson’s thesis in Caste: “Discrimination rests in a power relationship rather than in ethnicity.” Just because Synanon “purportedly did not have racial discrimination” didn’t mean there wasn’t discrimination.
Arkin’s mother explained:
“We discovered as we were going through the interviews and putting this together, oh, my gosh. There was sort of some status cast, some status discrimination based on where you were. Like, if you gave $50,000 to Synanon. I didn’t catch on at the time, but you were treated better than if you just came in indigent … some people were treated differently, and it seemed to be based on their position in the power structure… based partly on competence and then partly on how much could you offer.”
Similarly, The Game has a mixed legacy in Synanon. Some declare it a form of attack therapy or brainwashing tactic, though, at the time, it seemed to be the key to nonviolent communication. Arkin described The Games as “one of the most fascinating aspects of Syanon” and believes “it was a vehicle for change.” As for the brainwashing, well, that was kind of the point. She said, “The brainwashing aspect is what we all wanted. If you think about coming in from a culture that really never accepted you and or you were just always fighting to have a place in America. So, when I say brainwashing, it was more about taking all of those qualities, those negative aspects of the American culture that didn’t work within my world, and wiping your slate clean.”
Rogers-Hare added, “To be specific, however, sometimes the game was brainwashing, so-called getting somebody’s mind right. ‘We want you to understand this or that.’ Sometimes, it was directive. ‘We want you to show up to work on time. We want you to do this or that.'”
However, there was a therapeutic aspect to it. Rogers-Hare played the game for “14 years straight,” morphing into less of a game and more of a conversation between people with “shared knowledge” and “shared understanding.” Still, this is just one example of the many dimensions of The Game. Of course, the fact that children played The Game drew what Rogers-Hare called “valid” criticism. Even the most defining aspects of Synanon, like The Game, were as convoluted as “American politics.”
What can America learn from Synanon?
Sometimes, it feels like the most significant takeaway in Born in Synanon is that we can’t have a utopia because even the communities that start with the best intentions can’t survive their leaders and the power corruption. However, despite having lived through Synanon, both Arkin and Rogers-Hare believe a utopia, like the one Synanon was supposed to be, could hypothetically work. Arkin emphasized the importance of learning from Synanon’s fall to understand what we can do better. She stated:
“I think America can be a great utopia. But it all starts with authenticity and truth and honesty, even in what you’re doing. Your ability to be able to see beyond just the cult and to ask the questions about what was it? Why did it fail? Like understanding the wound and how that started so that you can understand how you can create this great utopia. We can do something and create this utopia, even in America, if we just understand our history, our roots, our power, and how we can do something within a community and call people out on it.”
Rogers-Hare admits that the chances of a true utopia surviving are “very low.” At the same time, though, she thinks a utopia “absolutely” could still happen. She explained, “Look what’s going on in America with the two Americas. Can we save our democracy? I think we can. Is it likely that we’re going to have real damage that carries over some generations? Yeah, but I think we could. And I think knowing that you’re trying, that the number of people are trying to is motivating and exciting.”
Arkin adds that the key to progress is digging into our histories. It’s “understanding the scars, the wounds, where our parents are from, the rivers that cross through our towns” and learning from them. Born in Synanon isn’t just supposed to be another warning about cults but is meant to stir conversation on building a better society without falling into the same pitfalls that Synanon did.
https://www.themarysue.com/born-in-synanon-cassidy-arkin-and-sandra-rogers-hare-interview/
Jan 22, 2024
'The Synanon Fix' and the slippery slope of a cult mentality
KPCW
January 22, 2024
A still from "The Synanon Fix" by Rory Kennedy, an official selection of the Episodic Program at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.
Exploring the rise and fall of the Synanon organization — through the eyes of the members who lived it — from its early days as a groundbreaking drug rehabilitation program to its later descent into what many consider a cult.
Rory Kennedy- Director of 'The Synanon Fix'
Rory Kennedy, whose intuitive yet methodical nonfiction storytelling style demonstrated in Sundance Film Festival projects includes "Ghosts of Abu Ghraib" (2007), "Last Days in Vietnam" (2014), and "Downfall: The Case Against Boeing" (2022), returns with her signature commitment to first-person perspectives in "The Synanon Fix." Former members recollect the hope and community the breakthrough treatment center and its dynamic founder initially provided, before the decades long transition to an organization centered on control and violence. Compellingly interspersed with newly found footage, this film presents authentic insights that transcend the presentation of an experiment gone horrifically awry, crafted as a cultural touchstone of charismatic leaders and vulnerable followers.
https://www.kpcw.org/show/the-sundance-reel/2024-01-22/the-synanon-fix-and-the-slippery-slope-of-a-cult-mentality
Apr 21, 2021
Synanon
LA Meekly Podcast
May 13, 2020
"The demented history of the Synanon cult. This is a segment from our episode "Cult Classics."
Nov 14, 2020
How Escaping From a Cult as a Child Shaped The Airborne Toxic Event Frontman Mikel Jollett's Life
November 14, 2020
Mikel Jollett found fame fronting the acclaimed rock and roll band The Airborne Toxic Event. He's active on social media, discussing on Twitter the state of the union and encouraging his followers to speak truth to power. He's a singer and songwriter with so many bright spots in his present. But he also has a dark past, as his earliest memories were formed when he was being raised inside a cult.
Jollett, who released his bestselling memoir, “Hollywood Park,” earlier this year, detailed how the first nearly four years of his life were spent inside the Synanon cult until, he, his brother and biological mother escaped to live with his grandparents in Oregon.
He told Inside Edition Digital one of his reasons for coming forward with his story in his book was to begin the “unpacking of all these different lies that I've been told throughout my life, and to give voice to this kid that I was, and my brother and I were, who never really had voices.”
Synanon was the notorious cult founded by Charles E. Dederich Sr., known by many as "Chuck," first as a drug rehabilitation center, in 1958 in California.
“Synanon was a place that started for a bunch of dope fiends in the '60s to get clean off of heroin. That's really what it started as. So a bunch of guys that had been in AA, and they set up a place for everyone to live, because they wanted to help other addicts,” Jollett told Inside Edition Digital. “And they didn't think AA went far enough for heroin addicts, so they wanted to have a more intense version of that. That's what they did, and then it worked for a long time. A good 10, 15 years it helped a lot of people get clean of heroin. My dad was one of those people.”
His dad first entered Synanon after he was dropped off to get clean to help kick a heroin addiction.
“My dad had done some time in prison, and when he got out he had a heroin addiction that he'd established in jail,” he said. “He OD'd, and then someone dropped him off at Synanon, and then he got clean and he turned it around.”
Synanon did help his father get clean and it was inside the walls of the facility that Jollett’s biological parents met.
“He never went back on drugs, never went back to crime. He never got a parking ticket ... From that point on for the rest of his life, completely clean, which is insanely uncommon. The recidivism rate for ex-cons are so high, and that just didn't happen,” he said. “So Synanon was good at a few things.”
In the 1970s, Synanon became the Church of Synanon. It disbanded in 1991, but not before becoming, according to Gizmodo, one of the “most dangerous and violent cults America had ever seen.”
“Our religious posture is: Don’t mess with us,” Dederich once said. “You can get killed dead, literally dead.”
“Chuck [Dederich] started doing all this crazy stuff, like breaking up marriages and forcing vasectomies, forcing abortions, punishing people with violence, hoarding guns and weapons, and training these military type goons,” Jollett told Inside Edition Digital. “And it just went crazy. And then at some point a bunch of people figured that out and left, and escaped, because the whole thing kind of spiraled into madness.”
Everything changed at Synanon, Jollett said, when “lifestylers started moving in, the non-addicts, what they called ‘the squares,’ those were people, a lot of them were intellectuals and activists, and that's what my mom was.”
Jollett was born inside the walls of Synanon in May 1974. There, Jollett and his brother, Tony, were kept apart from each other and their parents. He only knew Tony as another face in the compound, and they were not told who their parents were.
“We were essentially born in an orphanage inside a cult... We never saw our parents,” he said. “We were told that we didn't have parents. A lot of the book is about being from a place where there are no parents, because we didn't know what a mom or a dad or a grandma was. We didn't have Christmas or Passover or birthdays or any toys. So we were very much in this difficult situation. There was a lot of abuse.”
ince the children were always told that beyond the compound contained “bad men,” no one ever left and those that left were considered “Splitees” and “dirty splitees,” as Jollett put it, “cults are like this, anybody who leaves the cult questions the existence of the cult, because why would someone leave the cult?”
“Because the leader is right, and by leaving, you have now done violence against your allegiance, which is supposed to be to the cult,” he added.
But that changed when Jollett was about 4 and his brother was 7.
“One day this woman shows up with a shaved head, because everyone had shaved heads, and she's like, ‘I'm your mom.’ And we were like, ‘What's a mom?’ We didn't know what a mom was. But we had to escape, so we left with her,” he recalled. “We lived on the run for a while, and a lot of different things happened to us along the way."
Life outside Synanon was chaotic in its own way. Jollett's parents were separated and the men his mother dated had their own issues. His father's visits from Los Angeles were sporadic, but by the time he was 6, Jollett had reconnected with his father in a way that would prove significant. Ultimately, Jollett said, his father was his best friend.
When his dad died in 2015, Jollett wrote “Hollywood Park” as a tribute to him.
“My dad died, I would just say, is probably that was the initiating event. It hit me really hard, and I was trying to figure out why it hit me so hard,” he said. “I had read ‘Between the World and Me,’ Ta-Nehisi Coates's book, which is the style of the book is that he writes it as a letter to his son. And I thought, ‘God, what a great idea.’ It was just such a brilliant book, and I thought, ‘Okay, how can I write about my experiences, maybe as a letter to my dad?’”
That story also became a dialogue between him and his younger self.
“That kid that I was, never had a voice. No one ever stopped and asked us how we felt about these events. We were just sort of treated as collateral ancillary objects,” he said.
But still, telling people about his past and where he spent his first four years was difficult.
“I think [I was] maybe like around 10 years old, 11 years old, when people would say, ‘Oh, where are you from?’ And then you would sort of mention, ‘Well, I was born in this place called Synanon,’ and then you get these looks like you're this wild dog,” he recalled.
As a teenager, he moved to California to live with his dad and his stepmom. Though his path at first was rocky, Jollett was a straight A-student who eventually graduated Stanford with honors in 1996 and would go on to become a journalist.
“I wanted to go make my own mark on the world, and I didn't want to just be this kid from this weird place. So I just stopped talking about it completely. I never brought it up,” he said. “It's funny, when the book came out, I had friends that I've had for 20 years that came up to me in tears and were just like, ‘I had no idea that you went through all of this. Oh my God.’ I was just like, ‘How would you know? I wouldn't tell you. Of course you didn't know.’ Because it's like, I didn't want it to be the thing that defined me. I wanted to go make my own mark in the world.”
His mark came through in his work as both a journalist and then as a musician. The Airborne Toxic Event was formed in 2006 in Los Angeles. The band's forming came as Jollett dealt with a bad breakup and as he learned his stepmom, whom he calls mom, was battling cancer.
The band released their acclaimed debut in 2008 and it was propelled by the single “Sometime Around Midnight,” which U2 bassist Adam Clayton hailed as one of his favorite songs. The band has been a success ever since, playing sold-out gigs across the world and high profile global festivals such as California’s Coachella, Lollapalooza in Chicago, Japan’s Fuji Rock, as well as England’s Reading and Leeds.
“I'd say I'm pretty happy with my career, if that's what you're asking. My 12-year-old self is like, ‘This is awesome. You're like in a band, you're a singer in a rock band,’” he joked.
Yet, the rollercoaster ride of being a musician and finding success in it still wasn’t giving him the purpose for which he was yearning. Jollett, now a father of two children, says being a husband and dad is fulfilling in ways rock and roll never could.
“I think it wasn't until I realized that, that my life really became the thing that I wanted it to be, which it is now,” he said. “It's sort of like, no matter who you are, no matter where you're from, you can be born in an orphanage, you could be a successful musician, whatever it is. That the deepest drive we have as people, is for that kind of familial love, for these bonds of family that we were essentially born without, because we were born basically as orphans.”
Having lived through his upbringing, he says he wants the best for his children, and whatever they choose to be when they grow up is something he will support. And as for the ghosts of his past? “I think I am at peace with it,” he said, especially after the release of “Hollywood Park.”
“Everybody kind of knows my story now, and certainly the family have all seen ‘here's this book about all of us that I got to write.’ So they've sort of been forced to be asked about it, and forced to have lots of discussions about it,” he said.
As he continues to grow and unpack his life in both therapy and through his work, he come to a place of acceptance.
“I don't blame my folks,” he said of his early years. “I mean they were in a cult. Cults do bad things."
https://www.insideedition.com/how-escaping-from-a-cult-as-a-child-shaped-the-airborne-toxic-event-frontman-mikel-jolletts-life
Jun 3, 2020
Musician Mikel Jollett on escaping notorious Synanon cult, finding success
Jun 2, 2020
CultNEWS101 Articles: 6/2/2020
YNet: Member of ultra-Orthodox Lev Tahor sect charged with abusing two children
"An indictment was filed on Tuesday in the Jerusalem District Court against a member of the ultra-Orthodox Lav Tahor sect for abusing two children, aged 8 and 9."
People: Rocker Mikel Jollett's Memoir Is 'Primal Scream' About Childhood in Synanon Cult
"The frontman for The Airborne Toxic Event explores what it was like to heal — and raise children—after he escaped the violent Synanon cult."
"For readers, Hollywood Park is a powerful memoir about one man's journey after he escapes a violent cult as a child.
For author Mikel Jollett, the frontman for the indie band The Airborne Toxic Event, his book is a "primal scream."
"Sometimes I think about this book as this primal scream, this assertion: 'This happened. Stop telling me this didn't happen, because this happened.'" Jollett, 45, tells PEOPLE about the abuse he and many other children experienced while growing up in the "school" of the infamous Synanon cult.
"I became very interested in the idea of buried history, all the ways that we as children were told things that were patently untrue, and that we believed them," says Jollett, whose book will publish on May 26, just after the same-titled album. "And probing into this world of the traumatized child. What is mysterious about this? In what ways are we just wrong? What lies did we believe wholeheartedly?"
From Dr MartyFirst touted as a rehabilitation center for addicts when it was founded in 1958, Synanon helped thousands get sober and amassed $30 million or more in assets. But, in the late '70s, the California-based organization became synonymous with violence.
The founder, Charles Dederich, ordered his cult followers to divorce and swap partners, with more than 200 couples complying. He also forced women to have abortions and almost 200 men had vasectomies after Dederich forbade any more children.
"I am not bound by the rules," Dederich said, according to a 1978 PEOPLE story. "I make them."
In 1980, the cult leader received widespread attention when he pleaded no contest to charges of assault and conspiracy to commit murder after he and two other Synanon members attempted to kill Paul Morantz, a lawyer who had successfully sued Synanon, by putting a four-and-a-half foot rattlesnake in his mailbox."
Salon: Why business is booming for psychics during the pandemic
"People are calling in droves," a clairvoyant told Salon. Are psychic services a pandemic-proof industry?
"With over 36 million Americans now unemployed, it is certainly a privilege to have a job; each week of the pandemic, millions more file for unemployment. As businesses figure out how to adapt their business models to a socially distanced world, numerous sectors are suffering, from retail to fashion to restaurants. But one industry that is unexpectedly thriving? Psychic services.
Since the quarantine began shutting down large swaths of the economy, astrologers, spiritual guides, tarot card readers and psychics have seen an uptick in business. According to Google search trends, Google searches for "psychic" jumped to a 1-year high during the week of March 8, 2020 — just when the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) began issuing some guidance on COVID-19. Business review and aggregator site Yelp published an Economic Impact Report that noted that its "Supernatural Readings" business category was up 140 percent as more Americans turned to tarot card readers, mediums and psychics.
Leslie Hale has been offering astrology readings since the late 1990s. She joined Keen . com, an online "spiritual advisor network" in 2001, and told Salon that currently her business is up about 30 percent. (Likewise, Keen . com told Salon they are experiencing a vast increase in traffic as of late.) Hale said usually she had 10 to 15 calls a day, but during the pandemic it's been anywhere between 20 and 30. She charges $3.53 a minute.
"There has never been a time like this," Hale told Salon of her 21-year astrologer career. "I think everybody wants to know if their life is going to go on, and if there's anything in the future they have to look forward to."
It makes sense that average people are seeking clarity in uncertain times. New Age spiritual practices like tarot cards, astrology, and reiki have become increasingly popular over the last several years, in part due to its endorsement from the wellness industry and decline in religion among younger Americans. According to Pew Research data from 2018, an estimated 6 out of 10 American adults accept at least one "New Age belief," a list that includes psychics."
The Allure of Immortality: An American Cult, a Florida Swamp, and a Renegade Prophet
"For five days in December 1908 the body of Cyrus Teed lay in a bathtub at a beach house just south of Fort Myers, Florida. His followers, the Koreshans, waited for signs that he was coming back to life. They watched hieroglyphics emerge on his skin and observed what looked like the formation of a third arm. They saw his belly fall and rise with breath, even though his swollen tongue sealed his mouth. As his corpse turned black, they declared that their leader was transforming into the Egyptian god Horus.Teed was a charismatic and controversial guru who at the age of 30 had been "illuminated" by an angel in his electro-alchemical laboratory. At the turn of the twentieth century, surrounded by the marvels of the Second Industrial Revolution, he proclaimed himself a prophet and led 200 people out of Chicago and into a new age. Or so he promised.The Koreshans settled in a mosquito-infested scrubland and set to building a communal utopia inside what they believed was a hollow earth--with humans living on the inside crust and the entire universe contained within. According to Teed's socialist and millennialist teachings, if his people practiced celibacy and focused their love on him, he would return after death and they would all become immortal.Was Teed a visionary or villain, savior or two-bit charlatan? Why did his promises and his theory of "cellular cosmogony" persuade so many? In The Allure of Immortality, Lyn Millner weaves the many bizarre strands of Teed's life and those of his followers into a riveting story of angels, conmen, angry husbands, yellow journalism, and ultimately, hope."
May 31, 2020
CultNEWS101 Articles: 5/28/2020
This Podcast Will Save The World: Episode 5: Cults
"Interview with 1BR writer/director David Marmor and Cult Mediation Specialist Patrick Ryan discusses how cults operate and how to intervene when someone needs help"
"35 of the 92 people (38%) who attended services at a rural Arkansas church March 6–11 tested positive for the coronavirus, ultimately killing three, according to a case study released Tuesday by the CDC.Why it matters: Places of worship continue to be a problem for controlling the widespread transmission of the coronavirus, especially as some churches and local government officials push to loosen restrictions on religious gatherings."
Datebook: Putting the pieces back together after escaping a California cult at age 5
"In 1995, a decade before Mikel Jollett became the frontman of the indie rock band the Toxic Airborne Event, he was a 20-year-old Stanford student enrolled in the university's popular Psychology of Mind Control course taught by Philip Zimbardo (of Stanford Prison Experiment fame).
Jollett remembers devouring the entire syllabus, reading about Jim Jones' Peoples Temple and Vietnam prisoner-of-war camps and thinking, "It all feels familiar, like reading your own family history," the singer-songwriter and former music journalist writes in his mesmerizing new memoir, "Hollywood Park," out Tuesday, May 26.
Unlike most of his classmates, Jollett wasn't learning about cults with an intellectual curiosity about why people fall prey to charismatic leaders.
For him, the class was personal.
Jollett was separated from his parents at 6 months old and spent the next four years being raised by strangers at the Church of Synanon's ranch in Tomales Bay.
Founded in 1958 as a tough-love drug rehab program for hardened addicts (like Jollett's father, Jim, an ex-con who kicked his heroin habit at Synanon), the self-help community morphed by the '70s into an increasingly violent cult with centers throughout California and $3 million in assets.
True believers shaved their heads, wore overalls and obeyed Synanon founder Chuck Dederich's diabolical protocols and penchant for social engineering. There were forced divorces and repartnerings, mandatory abortions — and the inhumane practice of separating infants like Mikel from their parents."
NY Times: Church That Defied Coronavirus Restrictions Is Burned to Ground
A message at the scene that said, in part, "Bet you stay home now," has led the police in Mississippi to suspect.
"The burning of a church in northern Mississippi this week is being investigated as arson because of a spray-painted message at the scene that seemed to criticize the church's defiance of coronavirus restrictions.
First Pentecostal Church had sued the city of Holly Springs, Miss., which is about an hour southeast of Memphis, arguing that its stay-at-home order had violated the church's right to free speech and interfered with its members' ability to worship.
After firefighters put out the blaze early Wednesday, the police found a message, "Bet you stay home now you hypokrits," spray-painted on the ground near the church's doors, according to Maj. Kelly McMillen of the Marshall County Sheriff's Department.
A photograph of the graffiti also appears to show an atomic symbol with an "A" in the center, which is sometimes used as a logo for atheist groups."