A fella with a bag full o' songs and half a dozen tonnes o' prose heads to London Town from County Antrim.
Yourself and Sir Fleming have no need to take the teachings of L. Ron back across the sea for his followers hath arrived. The Church of Scientology now has an office (church?) on Great Victoria Street in Belfast. Every Saturday afternoon the highly stressed can have their problems diagnosed in the intimate and private setting of a plastic seat slap bang in the middle of weekend shoppers in the vast open expanse of Shaftsbury Square.Working on the premise that there's no point criticising something if you know fuck all about it I decided to buy Dianetics a few months back on coming across it in War on Want. Some follow up reading was also done just to erase any notions that perhaps I was the foolish in this instance. However, I can now stick my neck out and say that the whole Scientology thing is absolute pile of shite and that my membership of the one true faith (atheism) shall continue unhindered. My view? Well, as a non-believer I find them no crazier than Christians, Muslims, Jews and all the other deluded children of Abraham who prey on the vulnerable and feeble minded. Let them get on with it. When Scientologist suicide bombers start detonating themselves on the Tube though we might have to reconsider…N.B. For a one of Scientology's more amusing parts may I suggest you read more on the subject of space opera in Scientology scripture. Peculiar. Very peculiar.
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