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The Voice has obtained hundreds of new renderings of Scientology’s Super Power Building in Clearwater, Florida, as well as a comprehensive collection of its architectural drawings.
Every Scientology “org” is supposed to create an office for Hubbard, even 26 years after his death, in case the “old man” suddenly returns.
(via The Village Voice)
The strong and gusty winds may cause driving difficulties for high profile and lightweight vehicles.
Lightweight objects will also likely be blown around and small branches may break.
Use extra caution if you are traveling or headed outdoors this Saturday evening.
Kansas City. Or more rightly Leawood, Kansas. 119th St. A street fair of sorts. Jazz and barbecue. White tents. A billion people swarmed it seemed. Overwhelming. Overwhelmed. I was in the deepest basement of a store storing display props. A mannequin on a stand. A woman horizontal. Shaped like a dolphin. The leg came off. I had to wrestle to carry it with the rest. Awkward, wobbley, moving through dim-lit aisles. Found a good spot, threw the extension cord over. The added weight started it leaning forward. It wasn’t going to stand. Fukkit I thought. Picked up my phone. Went upstairs. Outside. Street was crazy. Growing bright. Noisy in the dusk. My phone rang. It wasn’t my ring. It wasn’t my phone. Had a coiled expansion cord with three loose wires. I tried to call its number to find the owner, realized I had the owner’s phone. I think I remembered where I left my phone. It was on a shelf in the society department of the store where I worked. I went into a store-front. There were refreshments. Gordon Lish followed me in. White hair wisping like his white hair does. I said Gordon! What are you doing here? Getting my boat fixed was his reply. He head-gestured toward the drive out front where sat a long, long cigarette boat. Black. Shiny. I said what’s that on the back? Jet engine he said. He was gone. Sheila walked up wearing layers of clothes. She said the outer layer was her on-the-lam-bswool vest. She asked if I wanted to go out for a smoke. I said oh, hon, I stopped smoking….Back in March she finished. I nodded. She looked disappointed. I said you want to sit a minute? We sat. I couldn’t stay seated. I needed my phone. I said you want to walk with me? She nodded. We started up the street.
In need of cheap lodging for perhaps 4-6 weeks. Have access to same for period required. Physical conditions rough but livable.
Note: Premises likely haunted.
Question: Is this wise?
It’s true. AND: I did it in a dream the premise of which was: THIS IS NOT A DREAM.
You know how you have those dreams? Those other dreams? You realize, “Wait! This is a DREAM!”
This was not like that. THIS IS NOT A DREAM was the foundation of the dream.
Melanie Smith said on July 27th, 2010 at 2:05 am
Even in New York, hearing a siren, I long for New York.
— Mike Topp (@MikeTopp) March 10, 2012
— Jon Winokur (@AdviceToWriters) March 10, 2012
you’ve just got to be gracious about not being able to clearly communicate ever on earth with other humans.
— Natalie Lodico (@photolodico) March 9, 2012