The Dangerous Cult You Didn't Even Know You Were A Part Of
There is a multi-billion-dollar cult, propagated by the Hollywood elite, which preys like an engorged leech on the minds and pocketbooks of people seeking a purpose. Oh, I'm sorry, did you think I'm talking about Scientology? Well, think different. I'm talking about a little gadget company you may know as Apple Inc. Of course, I expect the Apple Sheep (or as I like to call them, Shapples) to angrily yet gingerly close their brand-new "rose gold" (Shapple word for "pink") MacBook Air, take an even angrier sip of their matcha latte, and send off a furious Kimoji.
"Hold on," you object. You desperately untangle yourself from your headphone and USB cords, eagerly awaiting the day your Apple overlords remove these hazards for you. "Scientology is, like, evil. Isn't it?" Well, if you had enough money left over after buying your Apple Watch to afford to pay attention, you'd notice that Scientology is a low-budget, B-list version of Apple. Where's my proof? Physically speaking, it's in the overflowing cabinet of files and hair clippings I like to call the "info bunker," but for your purposes, simply read on ...
Exhibit A: Convoluted User Agreements Which Result In Enslavement
"I'm a smart person," you tell yourself in the mirror every morning. "I'm not going to get inducted into a cult. Not today. Not again." Because who would be stupid enough to agree to a contract for a Scientologist organization, like this one:
Awww, seahorsies! I'm in!
That's right -- for the mere price of your autonomy for the next billion years, you too can bring "ETHICS IN" on the "PLANET AND THE UNIVERSE" (nitpicky note: the Universe already implies the inclusion of the planet). But you, being of sound mind, body, and billion-year-old soul, would never fall victim to such an obvious ploy. To congratulate yourself on your superiority, you open up iTunes -- or rather, iTunes opens itself in what should be frightening proof of the singularity. Then this familiar screen appears:
Section 56, Clause B: Your hereby abdicate ownership of your firstborn child.
If you mindlessly click "Agree" to whatever horrors are ensconced within the legal mumbo-jumbo, then congratulations! You might have signed away your life for a trillion billion years, for all you know. Do you feel lightheaded? That's just your soul being vacuumed out of your gullible body.
Exhibit B: Feverishly Devout Followers
I told one of my friends (who happens to be a Shapple) that I was writing this article. A blank look crossed his face, colorful whirling balls spinning in his eyes as his indoctrinated mind crashed.
He's only one of many victims of Apple's mind control. Signs of an Apple iLluminati member include tattoos:
"Let the cows brand themselves," the Apple iVerlords chuckle.
Mandatory Apple acolyte robes and identification tags:
Ear gauges and beards not required, but strongly recommended.
Heads shaved to resemble their idol:
Sinead O'Connor's music is available on iTunes, and it's all coming together now.
As for Scientology's rabid followers, they're mild in comparison. Well, somewhat mild.
Exhibit C: Both Are Flagrant Tax Evaders
I'm not going to lie: Researching taxes is boring.
Eyes ... crossing ... can't ... seek ... the truth ...
Yes, the Church of Scientology uses their "religious organization" exemption to avoid paying massive amounts of taxes, while still raking in billions of dollars. And yes, Apple owes $14.5 billion in back taxes to Ireland. One could argue that this is typical of any corporation, or corporation masquerading as a religion / religion masquerading as a corporation. You could make the case that this is merely symptomatic of the greater trend of powerful institutions using every loophole possible to benefit themselves at the expense of others. You might even say it's not proof that Scientology and Apple were both founded by hyper-intelligent loophole-finding robots ... oh, to be young and naive.
Exhibit D: Mysteriously Charismatic Leaders (Who Some Say Were Robots)
I'm not saying that Steve Jobs and L. Ron Hubbard were robots. Again, I'll repeat for the legal teams: I'm not saying that. But if I were to say that, here's how I'd do it: Have you noticed they always wore the same outfit? That's not normal organic human behavior. Personally, I change outfits roughly 26 times a day to throw off the Apple "geniuses" tracking my location. But for L. Ron Hubbard and Steve Jobs, who may or may not have even had sweat glands, one outfit sufficed. For Jobs, it was his trademark black turtleneck and suspiciously casual jeans.
"No, really, I am a normal human with normal casual human jeans," Jobs tried to suggest, as he awkwardly wrangled his robot legs to sit backwards in a chair. L. Ron Hubbot (whoops, typo, I meant Hubbard, which I am clarifying in a legally airtight manner) had some variety, as once in a while he'd peel his jacket off. But a notable element stayed the same: the ascots.
"Observe my normal human male attire."
Those would seem "uncomfortable" or "unsightly" for regular, flesh-and-blood human people. But not for Hubbot (typo, see above disclaimer). He wore it dutifully, like the fleshy, pendulous wattle of a bantam rooster.
Which brings me to the denouement of this section: Both Steve Jobot and L. Ron Hubbot (typos/above redirection to the previous disclaimer) wore a permanent neck covering. Have we ever seen their necks? Ever? Gosh, what could they have been hiding there? Hmm, maybe, hypothetically, conspicuous robot parts?
Exhibit E: Unsettling Smooth Metal Objects You Must "Touch" And Have "Readings" Which "Don't" Steal Your Soul
"E-meters," you scoff, shaking your head just hard enough that you don't dislodge your wireless earbuds. "Who'd be stupid enough to fall for that? As if you could fondle some oblong metal object and get your 'readings' taken."
It runs on Travoltage.
But doesn't this all ring a bell? An Apple-shaped bell? An Apple-shaped bell that sounds like the Apple boot-up chime? What I'm trying to say is that the bell in this scenario is Apple's new "touch bar."
This. This right here is the bell.
"But this isn't anything like an e-meter!" you protest. "An e-meter is a pointless thing they say will solve problems you never even had in the first place, and-- oh my God." Your jaw drops, and I've smugly made my point.
Exhibit F: "Inspiring" Conferences
Tim Cook steps out into a black, featureless void. You can't see his eyes. Only the reflection in his glasses of a massive, voracious crowd. He licks a fleck of goat's blood off his lips and points to a screen behind him. It flashes mysterious slogans -- "trigger phrases" to awaken the sleeper agents.
"Don't look, Marion!"
When you compare this black pit from which no light can escape to Scientology conferences, the latter seems like a budget motivational speaker / protein shake rally in comparison.
"Join our cult so you can be as comfortable and well-adjusted as we appear!"
They too have mysterious catchphrases, although I can't quite decipher them.
"We abe the las?"
Exhibit G: The People In Their Promotional Materials Are Soulless Husks
By now, about 32 percent of your brain meat area has been allocated for the storage of Apple advertisements. They've become so ingrained that it's easy to overlook the small details about the actors and celebrities hawking Apple schlock. Like their eyes ... and how when you look into them, the abyss also looks into you.
*unidentifiable creature noises*
Take this Apple spokeshuman, who is happily using Apple Pay in a transaction with another human for the legal purchase of normal people food, which he crams into his gullet to efficiently process and provide nourishment to his regular human body.
"Maybe eating will fill the empty cavity where my soul once resided."
Or Zooey Deschanel, home alone in her matching pink pajamas, in the midst of a long conversation with Siri about the weather and soup. Her eyes see nothing and everything.
"Siri, is it raining? I can't see for myself. I can't see anything in this plane of existence."
This woman responds to the presence of digital balloons in her birthday text by smiling in eerie contentment. "It's just like the real thing," she murmurs, words paper-thin and bland.
"I ever so enjoy the annual celebration of my birthing."
Chipper high-schoolers wave to their neighbors through their iDoors. The words "chipper" and "high-schooler" should never naturally land in the same sentence, and the only teenagers who are this peppy are ones who have joined or started a cult.
"Good morrow, Mrs. Owens. May I come in and shriek loudly if I find you've not been assimilated?"
Or this commercial, where glassy-eyed people wander through lens flares, do science, grope their iPads ...
... get lost in deserts, and go to weird job interviews ...
Whoops, did I say that's an Apple commercial? Sorry, this is actually Scientology's ad which ran during the 2016 Super Bowl. Who's the obsessive loner who desperately needs a hobby now?
Exhibit H: Apple Is Monitoring My Movements As We Speak.
If I sound rushed, it's because I'm trying to quickly write this in the receptionless, off-the-grid area conveniently located in my bathroom. The Apple goons are onto me. The other day, someone asked me why I'm using a Nokia 1011 and not an iPhone.
Why did we mess with perfection?
I tried to check their neck for brain stem implants, but they batted my hands away. As long as I keep a low profile, I'll be okay. I've put my very life in danger by typing these words. These words I typed on a ... MacBook Pro? They've already gotten me. Save yourselves.
Katie Goldin is not the author's real name, and she's currently unavailable, having gone "Code Snowden."
Dive further down the rabbit hole in 5 Reasons You Should Be Scared of Apple and 5 Weird Realities When Scientologists Run Your School.
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