On 26 February 1997, two Scientologists were sent to my apartment to "handle" me, to dissuade me from participating in a picket against Scientology. My computer happened to be taking snapshots at thirty-second intervals; here are some of them.
Unfortunately, I couldn't get close-up pictures without putting the thing obtrusively in the middle of the room, and since I only had a monochrome QuickCam, I can't do justice to how truly ugly Carmichael's tie really was.
Please note: these pictures do not look as good using Netscape on a 256-color display. 16-bit or better color depth is recommended, otherwise Carmichael looks like he has no face, etc.
From left to right: Fellow critic "Bill Winfield" (obscured), me, John Carmichael, Bennetta Slaughter. There is some confusion about who wants to sit where. Carmichael has identified himself to the media as "public affairs director" of the New York org, as well as "Vice President of the Church of Scientology". According to information from other critics, he is with the Office of Special Affairs, and quite possibly is the Director of Special Affairs for the New York org. Wow, and they flew him all the way down here just to talk to little old me?
Slaughter and Carmichael watch me get a glass of water that she had requested. I also offered Snapple (knowing how popular it is around Flag) and Surge, but water was all she wanted. Carmichael didn't want anything. Well, you know, one can't trust anything an SP might have in his fridge...
Carmichael appeals to "Bill". Carmichael gave really strong TR0, and knew just when to make his voice almost break with emotion. He deserves an Oscar a heck of a lot more than Tom Cruise does!
Now it's Slaughter's turn. She was giving me some good TR0 until I started giving it back; after that, she rarely looked directly at me (preferring instead to look at the ceiling, the wall, my shirt, Carmichael, "Bill"...)
I guess Carmichael was hatted to appeal to my masculinity; several times he said "Let me just say this to you man to man."
It was all I could to to refrain from asking if he didn't mean "clam to man". Snap! Snap! Snap!
Yeah, I'm a $#!+head, but I just couldn't resist. I'm sure that when she arrived, Bennetta had no clue that she'd be mooning the Web. It was only luck that she finished saying goodbye to my cat just before the QuickCam snapped the picture.