Who is Paul Haggis

An Open Letter to Mike Rinder

siteadmin — Fri, 12 Jul 2013 21:07:18 +0000

Mike:

As your daughter I naturally would rather not be writing this. But I have no choice given your continued actions against the Church you and my mother raised me in, your constant grandstanding to get attention and my concern for my young sibling and his brother who you and your new wife are raising.

I made the mistake of once hoping you would someday turn into a decent person and father. One hears of stories in the news of unfit parents, parents who abuse their children or spouses, who desert their children. A parent must take responsibility for one's children. If not, they have no right to be a parent. It saddens me to have to say this, but you were unfit to be a father. You belittled and harassed my brother and me both physically and emotionally, while abusing our mother. Our family members have suffered at your hands for the last 30+ years.

You would make fun of both my brother and I. Do you recall belittling us and calling me hurtful things like “chubby” and calling my brother “grub?” “Affection” and “warmth” to you was checking our nails and clothes, then berating my brother and me. This was the first thing you would do when you saw us. As you know, for 13 years as a young girl I thought my father did not even like me as the only comments you would make were ones of belittlement.

Your recklessness also upset my brother, me and my mother because it showed you didn’t care. Specifically, your driving endangered us almost every single time you drove us anywhere. The most dangerous was on our trips to Big Bear for Christmas and on snowy, unclear, very windy mountain roads. You would drive like a maniac and try to race other cars, with no concern for the safety of your wife or 2 small children in the car. I bet you still drive that way. You have no concern for the safety of others, not even your own family.

Remember when I was 8 years old I was hit by a car and suffered severe injuries? It could have even been fatal. You were never there once during the time I spent in the hospital, writhing in pain, getting operations, suffering burn treatments, high on painkillers and almost dead. My own father never showed up to see me for the months and months I was recovering. My mom was there 24 hours a day for me, helping me cope by applying LRH assist tech. Where was my father?

You did the exact same thing when my brother got potentially fatal cancer a few years ago. Mom tried to see you to tell you that your son needed care. You refused to speak to her and selfishly didn’t care the entire time my brother was suffering through chemotherapy, physical stresses, operation after operation to remove the cancer and finally cosmetic surgery.

Then you and a couple of your degraded friends tried to harass my brother at his place of work, months after he was now well and recovered from his extensive cancer treatment. It was all phony, staged for some TV cameras to make it look like you care about your son. Your idea of showing your care is to come with a video camera and some brute bully to try to force your way in to see your son who otherwise doesn’t exist in your mind. To those of us who know you know it was all an act. You show up for the first time in years after deserting us with not one single word? It was all for show. You even admitted to this.

I feel sorry for my youngest sibling and his brother. They will soon be faced with their own accidents and illnesses. They will learn as my brother and I did that you only care for you. I would never think to put you on a "who to contact in case of emergency" form as it would be the difference of life and death. You are too self-absorbed to care about others.

I also am convinced you will desert and hurt your current wife, the mother of my young sibling. Based on the behavior I know of for 20+ years, I can only be sure you are still being lazy, leaving everything to your wife to handle and even worse not caring for her or your children. After many years of refusing communication and responsibility for your marriage to my mom and your 2 children by her, you physically abused her right in front of me. You mutilated her arm, with keys in your hands and ripped and ruined the skin and muscle in her forearm. You pulled her shoulder out of place to such an extent it needed surgery. Your reaction was to laugh about it.

Will you tell my sibling that you were not even legally divorced when you impregnated his mother? And that she is the same age as your daughter? Once an adulterer, always an adulterer. I can safely predict you will desert his mom like you deserted ours, no doubt with a mistress or prostitute on the side.

Your anger and cruelty didn’t stop with my mother and us. In my presence your anger bursts led to you spraining my uncle Andrew's finger. My uncle also informed me that you as his older brother even tried to suffocate him as a child. People like this with such a long history of anger and abuse of others are usually under mental care. Your wife and children will discover this insane rage may occur any time. The last time I saw you there was insanity in your eyes. I really felt like I was looking at someone I did not know and who was taken over by demons. People like you have to be watched as you are irrational and do not control yourself and end up hurting the lives of people around you. Your current mental and physical state is scary.

Your own mother expressed upset to me that you would not ever make time for her over the years, even when an opportunity arose to spend time together. However, you did find time to go into her living quarters, unannounced and also without permission, to rifle through her stuff and room. Not only that, but you allowed a total stranger into her personal room. My grandmother told me how violated she felt by this and that you had even gone through her drawers, as her stuff was moved around. I won’t even repeat here the words my grandmother had for you, but I can tell you she felt you betrayed her to a level she never could have imagined and was ashamed that she raised you as a son. You were no offspring of hers or her husband. And with your current path you won’t have a chance to change this before she dies. Not that you care. She adores my uncle and my aunt as they adore her. We have an extremely close family. But you were too self-centered to be part of it. You could not ever experience the love and joy that family members normally have for each other. My uncle told me that once in class at school his teacher after roll call asked him if he had any association with Mike Rinder. When he told the teacher you are his brother he was kicked out of the class. That’s the stigma you carry around even today whether you realize it or not.

I feel especially sorry for my young sibling and his older brother. I highly suspect that the older one is already experiencing abuse on a covert level and may not know it or may not be able to verbalize it to his mother. I would not be surprised if he is being mentally or physically affected daily already by you just as my brother and I were when we were little. But what do you expect from someone who at an early age "for fun" put firecrackers in kittens anuses and let them explode? Cruelty to animals as a child soon became cruelty to your family members.

Your wife and children will find out soon enough if they haven’t already that you are lazy. You do not have a real honest working job. I can pretty much guarantee you will not be able to financially support your children or give them proper education. For example, there were several projects I know of when you worked at the same place I work that self-destructed due to your incompetence. I know you were found goofing off on the job and slacking off. I can’t name any actual work you are skilled at, can or will do. This is also of concern to me as my sibling will need to have a good education and be supported until he comes of age. Do you even have a job now? You have been parasitic before and I would not be surprised if you are on welfare or living off your new wife in some way.

I will say, years ago I would not have thought this would have happened to me. It is for this reason that I am writing this letter. It’s sad because my young sibling is no doubt a good kid who won’t deserve what my brother and I endured. I hope that when he and his brother are old enough they look at you and recognize you for what you are, and that they finally flourish and prosper by their own free will. They will be better for it.

Taryn

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The Many Personas of Paul Haggis

siteadmin — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 13:00:00 +0000

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Who Is Mike Rinder?

siteadmin — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 00:48:22 +0000

Mike Rinder is a former executive of the Church of Scientology who was removed from his position for incompetence and gross malfeasance. Despite generous attempts by seniors to help him straighten out and come clean, Rinder eventually deserted his church, his wife of over thirty years and his two children and skulked off. He ignored every attempt by his family to communicate with him and instead soon took up with a younger woman and became a used car salesman. After failing just as miserably at that career, Rinder threw in with another apostate, Mark “Marty” Rathbun. Together they are involved in a scheme to discredit the Church of Scientology and its leadership for the purpose of lining their own pockets.

Mike Rinder: A History of Neglect and Corruption

Mike Rinder has a weakness for status and the limelight. As a spokesman for the international Church, he was admittedly incompetent and in over his head, but also admitted that he was so slick, arrogant and underhanded that for years he hid it well, blaming his transgressions and incompetence on circumstances, other staff, even the press he was charged with informing. In truth, his history as a staff member was one of laziness, negligence and corruption aided by the fact that he was often in the field and able to fabricate events and his statistics to make himself look good. But the truth was ugly. During one aborted attempt to come clean, Mike Rinder wrote of himself:

"I fell asleep at my desk many times. This was when working on events—virtually every one I’ve done in the last 5 years. I was not confronting the writing of speeches. In fact, I was not wanting to confront what I was doing at the time—being irresponsible... I am now known for falling asleep. This has happened 50 times in the last 5 years and probably 20 times at my desk in the last 2 years."

“I was very lazy and did everything based on the ‘seat of my pants.’ From the outset I have been off purpose and out ethics.”

“I wanted to be important and maintain my status and I put that well before the well being [sic] of the organization. I have been anti-organization. I have had to lessen the importance of the organization and group in order to continue to live with the overts [transgressions] I committed.”

“I avoided responsibility by deliberately remaining ignorant of situations, hoping that a junior would handle them. This ‘it’s got nothing to do with me’ attitude in flying my hats right up the Org Board. This was motivated by a cowardly desire to have someone other than me to blame if the situation blows up. It ignored the actual consequences, because when these situations explode, it has always been Chairman of the Board who handled them… I have done this many times throughout the years—from legal cases to media situations and government attacks.”

“The cost to the Church through my neglect of situations has been huge, because these situations have blown up and turned into hugely expensive matters in terms of both money and distraction.”

— Mike Rinder

Rinder’s list of transgressions goes on and can be viewed here.

Mike Rinder and Mark “Marty” Rathbun: Partners in Crime

Mike Rinder had worked closely with Marty Rathbun for years and the two had much in common. Their years in Scientology organizations were spent dumping work and responsibility on juniors, avoiding training at all costs, and honing the one and only skill both possessed: an ability to deceive. Individually, and as a twisted “team” that covered each other’s crimes, Rathbun and Rinder put the Church in direct and substantial legal jeopardy by ignoring and subverting Church policy. They then passed the buck for the disasters they created up the chain of command, while at the same time sabotaging the Church’s efforts to legally defend itself. To protect themselves, they literally hid evidence that would have cleared the primary individual they pinned their own crimes on – the church’s ecclesiastical leader, Mr. David Miscavige.

Both Rathbun and Rinder were caught at different stages, demoted, and given numerous opportunities to redeem themselves but neither ever had the courage to truly clean up his act. Instead each wandered off – Rathbun in 2004, Rinder in 2007 – deserting their families in the process, and were eventually excommunicated.

By 2008 both found themselves flat broke and without an honest skill between them. Rinder was living in Denver selling used cars; Rathbun (after squandering an inheritance in the same manner in which he squandered church funds) was sweeping floors in Texas. Rathbun, a renowned egomaniac, desperate for money and out for revenge, came up with a wild plan to “take over” Scientology by painting himself as an aggrieved victim of injustice and offering himself to the internet fringe as a purported “savior” of L. Ron Hubbard’s technologies. To support this deceit Rathbun scraped together a ragged band of excommunicated apostates he had known in the past, who now lie for him to the press and to the public, likely in the vain hope that if Rathbun somehow manages to cash in from this scheme, they will share in the wealth.

But Rathbun’s plan relies heavily upon disseminating these lies through the media, and for that he needed and sought out Mike Rinder’s help . Even though the pair had been both allies and enemies while on staff [in 2004 Rathbun suddenly and inexplicably leapt at Rinder across a conference table and beat him to a pulp] they generally stuck together if only to have someone to provide cover.

Allergic to work as always, Rinder saw the opportunity to line his pockets and knew exactly how to go about it. The twisted team was back in business.

Rathbun has a megalomaniacal sense of his own importance due to the years he spent working in the shadow of a great man, Mr. Miscavige. Rinder, also a status-freak, has his slick PR arrogance and a wealth of media contacts from his days as a church spokesperson. Putting their warped egos together, they spin tales rife with blatant lies specifically and carefully designed to appeal to those media outlets that have a penchant for anti-Scientology stories – the same media outlets that the pair intentionally antagonized in the past. They satisfy these media outlets’ thirst for controversy by feeding them wildly sensational and alarming falsehoods so bold they are unlikely to be recognized as the fabrications they are. And to gain maximum press attention, they attempt to pin the lot on Mr. Miscavige; the same man who treated them generously and with great compassion, giving them ample opportunity to change their ways when they failed. In other words, the man they had harmed most.

The reason becomes evident when one realizes that for years Mike Rinder hid from the Church’s ecclesiastical leader the role he played in concealing the suborning of perjury and obstruction of justice committed by Marty Rathbun and another former staff member and current conspirator, Tom DeVocht. Only after the statute of limitations expired on Rathbun’s felony did he admit to it, and even then he and Rinder twisted it in a way to try and blame the Church and Mr. Miscavige.

Rinder and Rathbun would be put rapidly out of business were they not paid for their anti-Scientology press junkets (whether by direct fees as in the case of the British rags or through all-expenses-paid vacations offered by the odd news agency or anti-religious organization) and generally financed by apostate Robert Almblad, a.k.a Robert August, an “inventor” whose claim to fame is a questionable “clean ice” machine. Reportedly, Almblad is also “a financier of hate crimes and a virulent anti-Scientologist who keeps Rinder afloat and funds Rathbun’s cult as well.” (See The Violence of Marty Rathbun & his Cult Militia)

Mike Rinder: Deserter of a Family in Need

Among Rinder’s schemes was an attempted “photo op” that he hoped would set up the church to be blamed for the rift between Rinder and his family that he so manifestly created all by himself.

One day, as part of their discredit-the-church scheme, Rinder showed up at a church building, with his girlfriend and Rathbun wielding a camera to “document” the event, demanding to see the son he had deserted years before. It seems the hope was that this demand would be denied so it would appear the church was denying him access to his family. But Rinder’s son did come to the door and told Rinder he had no interest in seeing him.

The son had good reason. He had just recovered from an excruciating three-year battle with cancer, largely thanks to his church whose staff welfare executives had secured the services of the foremost specialist in the world in melanomas to treat him. His mother had traveled to see his father years earlier to alert him to the situation, but Rinder treated her with such hostility that she was unable to communicate with him, and at no time during the followings years did Rinder ever even bother to ask after his children’s welfare.

Yet here was Mike Rinder, along with fellow Scientology-haters, now attempting to wreak havoc on a church premises with video camera and recording devices, all under the pretense of “documenting” that he cares about his family.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Rinder’s family are long-time Scientologists. His father (now deceased) and his mother were founding members of the Australian branch of the church, and his brother and sister, as well as his wife and children remain active, dedicated members.

After deserting his wife and kids, Rinder also cut all contact with his elderly mother in Australia, despite repeated letters from her. Just as ruthlessly he cut contact with his brother and sister. But this did not stop them from reaching out to him. Rinder’s brother, Andrew, flew all the way from Australia to accompany Rinder’s former wife, Cathy, and their daughter, in one effort to contact him. But upon seeing them, Rinder reacted with such hatred that he physically attacked Cathy, gouging and stripping the flesh from her arms so severely it caused nerve that is still healing almost a year later, and dislocating her shoulder, an injury that required surgery to repair. Andrew returned to Australia with a near-broken finger from his attempt to aid his sister-in-law.

In revenge, Rinder later went on a paid anti-Scientology media junket to Australia where he tricked his way into his elderly mother’s retirement home while she was away on vacation. Earlier, the senior Mrs. Rinder had attempted to reach her son by letter and reason with him but to no avail. Now, owing to his vicious attacks on the church that she helped to establish in Australia, she wants nothing to do with him. As a last insult, before he left her room, Rinder rifled through her belongings, snapping photos as trophies.

Mike Rinder: Violence toward Women

But Rinder’s best efforts to destroy his former church and its leader, has in many ways backfired. Following Rinder’s departure from staff, several women came forward and made the following declarations, revealing that Rinder had a well-concealed history of intimidating and physically abusing female colleagues.

Female Victim #1

“I knew he was going to hit me, so I put my hands over my face. He grabbed me by the shoulders in a very strong, tight and painful grip (squeezing my shoulders very hard) and began shaking me violently, toward him and away from him, back and forth rapidly... He kept on shoving me back and forth and then, on a back shove, threw me against the wall hard enough that it hurt my rib cage, knocked the breath out of me and I bounced off the wall….”

Some years later, and well away from witnesses, another incident occurred:

Female Victim #2

“He placed both his hands on an 8-by-11-inch wooden clipboard he was carrying, did a half turn, swung and hit me on the side of my face with the clipboard, using the full force of his body… I developed a severe toothache. The pain became quite excruciating. The dentist…found that it had been cracked and had to be removed.”

A third woman who work in the same area as Rinder had inexplicably left staff some years ago, much to the surprise of her colleagues. Today, her reason is abundantly clear, as the following was submitted to the Church after she had read of Rinder’s other transgressions:

Female Victim #3

“I needed financial approval to purchase something, but I was worried as I had been told in the past that Mike Rinder would not approve this type of purchase. I mentioned my concern to a colleague as to whether or not Rinder would approve the request, but I was advised to make the request and turn it into Rinder anyway, which I did...

“He came out into the hallway, walked right up to me and physically slammed me against the wall. He used his right forearm up against my chest and moved toward my throat in a choking position, my head was pinned against the wall and I was desperately trying to get him to move his arm down by pulling down on his forearm with my two hands… Rinder never apologized for that incident, for slamming me against the wall, for upsetting me or anything. That was the beginning of my thinking about leaving..."

Mike Rinder: Tallying up the Destruction

“The enemy actions I was engaged in were destructive to all of Scientology and ultimately every person on Earth. The magnitude of the overts is almost incomprehensible.”

-- Mike Rinder

Prior to his departure, Mike Rinder would only vaguely admit to the damage he did to the church as being “hugely expensive.” Marty Rathbun blithely put a figure on the damage he personally caused of $43,799,000.

That was as of September 29, 2003. In a recent publication devoted to the issue, the Church takes a different view of the total cost of the “monumental disasters” created by Marty “Mark” Rathbun, in which Mike Rinder was often complicit:

“He [Mark “Marty” Rathbun] was being very conservative and the damage is far higher. For by engaging in his own psychotically motivated war, he also distracted Church leaders who ultimately had to clean up his mess. Then, too, he diverted Church funds from humanitarian programs to help Mankind, not to mention the creation of new Church facilities to service the greater community of Scientologists and the communities in which they work.

“Since the discovery and removal of Rathbun, the endless series of “unexplainable” external battles and legal cases has “magically” ended. Indeed, the Church has emerged victorious in country after country with religious recognitions as well as precedent-setting decisions in the European Court of Human Rights. Moreover, with the Church’s resources now dedicated to the religion itself, in the last decade the size of the Church has doubled what it had achieved in its first 55 years of existence.”

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Another violent outburst by Rathbun ends in jail time

siteadmin — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 02:10:20 +0000

What's worse than having a nasty confrontation with someone first thing in the morning?

If you're violent anti-Scientologist Marty Rathbun, how about having another confrontation later in the day - and 2000 miles away from the first one.

That's how Rathbun started the month of September - like a crazed maniac.

The first target of his wrath was investigative reporter Jim Lynch. As Rathbun arrived at the Phoenix airport for a flight back to Texas early on the morning of Sept. 1, Lynch was there to ask Rathbun a question.

Instead of a no-comment, or, just silence (something that Rathbun is incapable of), the burly anti-Scientologist responded by madly swinging a large suitcase square into Lynch, who fell to the sidewalk.

As is usual with Rathbun, law enforcement turned up in the shape of TSA agents and officers of the Phoenix police department. Somehow, the hulking Rathbun was allowed to board his flight.

And while no one knows what he ingested on the flight to Texas, Rathbun was primed for more violence when he arrived home late that day.

Documentary filmmaker Jim Moore bore the brunt of this attack - as Rathbun lunged at him, pulling his glasses off Moore's head - and - in the process gouging two bloody claw marks on Moore's forehead.

Moore's offense - going about his business on a public street. Why it drew Rathbun's paranoia and white-hot anger remains a mystery.

The filmmaker filed a police report, but, it wasn't his first brush with the violent Rathbun. In another earlier incident, Rathbun hosed down Moore's cameraman’s equipment - causing extensive and expensive damage.

For Rathbun, it might have been a first - starting and ending his day with out-of-control violence.

Later, he reaped the rewards of his physical outburst – a brand new shiny pair of bracelets (handcuffs) – as he was arrested and carted off to jail by a Sheriff’s deputy.

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Shielding Her Violence-Prone Husband

siteadmin — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Marty Rathbun's wife has been stepping in to shield her violence-prone husband lately.

That's the conclusion of observers who, recently, have seen a bolder and more determined "Mosey" at her husband's side.

Or, possibly, a wearying Rathbun is fronting his wife as a deflector to questions he is trying to dodge, or, unable to handle.

One prevalent theory has Mosey concerned that her husband is going to literally burst a gasket with rage, given the out-of-control manner in which he has been dealing with routine reporter queries.

As one videographer who has been on the scene when Rathbun blew up says: "Marty is really losing it quickly when he's asked the simplest of questions. The veins in his temple start throbbing and his agitation is obvious - and intense."

A source traces the none-too-subtle change to a recent encounter in Phoenix, where a reporter's query to Rathbun was met by an outburst of physical violence.

After losing control, the source says Rathbun stopped for a minute in a distinct pause as if he was reflecting that he could not, physically, stop his own actions any longer.

That's when Mosey stepped in to deflect any more questions aimed at her husband who, silently and sheepishly, slipped inside the airline terminal.

The dynamic marks a distinct change in the couple - as if Rathbun is looking for his younger wife to protect him - strange behavior for the 6-foot, 220-pound cult leader who has always relied on his physical presence to intimidate critics and lash out with force at subordinates.

But, now, the question also must be answered: How long will Mosey be able - or even willing - to soldier on after her husband's imaginary enemies?

We'll be watching.

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New talking head for Hamburg hatemonger

siteadmin — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 07:00:00 +0000

It was a strange sight to see Marty Rathbun out of his usual work-out gear and sans baseball hat - the one that he wears backward.

That's the outfit he's usually wearing when he's going psycho on someone or screaming in a person's face.

This time Rathbun was in a suit, dressed up for his "hosts" who awarded him an all-expenses-paid trip to Hamburg, Germany, in return for his appearance at a staged press - make that propaganda - conference.

One wonders what Rathbun's "counseling" clients think about their "counselor" making the rounds with the hate-mongering Ursula Caberta, who has devoted her career to attempting to destroy their religion.

And, what do they think about Rathbun hanging out - at the same propaganda conference - with the Hamburg chapter of the cyber terrorist group Anonymous? That's the same group that has waged a crusade to destroy their religion. The same group that has members in US prisons for hate crimes.

But, in Hamburg, there was Marty Rathbun extending his meaty paw to the group's leader Gambit, who, by the way, makes his living on the Reeperbahn - Hamburg's notorious red light district.

The only one who seemed to be missing was Josef Goebbels.

Rathbun - either knowingly, or not (it's hard to say which is worst), was no more than a stooge, a tool, a cardboard cutout to be used by Caberta, sleazy lawyer Graham Berry and Anonymous for their vile, hate-filled religious attacks.

Yes, indeed, what would Rathbun's counseling clients think about that - and how would they feel about Marty and wife Monique sashaying around on a freebie visit to Berlin? It was all paid for by Caberta and her hate-mongering ilk.

Anything for a price - for Rathbun it sure beats hanging around Texas in a backward baseball cap.

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Paul Haggis - A Biography

siteadmin — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 01:36:01 +0000

>> Paul Haggis: A status-driven screenwriter who exploited a tenuous connection with Scientology to grab headlines via a publicity stunt whereby he “resigned” from the Church—when he had not been an active parishioner for decades. Haggis, whose betrayals include accepting millions for scripts that he never delivered, was himself exploited by the New Yorker’s Lawrence Wright, who approached him for a “profile” that simply used Haggis to tell a slanted story about the Church of Scientology.

>> Read more about Paul Haggis

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The New Yorker: What a Load of Balderdash

siteadmin — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 18:00:00 +0000

Prior to the Lawrence Wright-authored piece published in February 2011, The New Yorker had never written about filmmaker Paul Haggis. As a matter of fact, The New Yorker had even passed Haggis by in 2006 when he was in the sharp focus of Hollywood klieg lights. And what a story that might have been, given it was well known he took home an Oscar by default, riding a widely reported “anti-gay vote” over Brokeback Mountain. At the time, Los Angeles Times movie critic Kenneth Turan maintained that some Academy members displayed "discomfort" with the subject matter of Brokeback Mountain, which tells of a homosexual romance between two cowboys. The critic noted that these voters might have cast their ballots for Crash so they could still “feel like they were good, productive liberals.” Hence Crash's victory.

The rancor runs so deep concerning the Crash win, Entertainment Weekly’s 2011 Oscar coverage included an article entitled, “The Most Overrated Best Picture Winners Ever: And the Oscar goes to…WHAT? The ugly truth is that the best picture doesn’t always win Best Picture…” EW writer Chris Nashawaty wrote:

“Paul Haggis’s L.A. mosaic preaches to the choir, and in return, Left Coast Academy members could pat themselves on the back for handing over the big prize. We said it then: Brokeback Mountain should’ve won.”

Enter The New Yorker, suddenly tapping Haggis as the subject of their coveted “profile.” The article was to be written by staffer Wright and, as The New Yorker editor, David Remnick, told Church officials:

“‘Profiles’ is a term that was invented by The New Yorker, which is why we use it in maybe prideful upper case. It’s an extensive rigorously reported piece on someone's life. We’ve been doing this for a very long time.”

This was not, to use Remnick’s words, an “extensive rigorously reported piece on someone’s life”; nor was it simply “a story on Scientology”—it was an anti-religion piece seen only through the eyes of an apostate.

Never mind The New Yorker-brand arrogance, Remnick was clearly dissembling. For whatever pretense he and Wright had constructed, their true agenda was soon revealed from within their own ranks. It came in the form of an email to the Church from Melissa Goldstein in the photo department: “The New Yorker is doing a piece on Scientology.”

She wasn’t the only magazine staffer who called the article what it truly was, as one email after another leaked with statements about Wright’s story “on Scientology.” Haggis’s name wasn’t mentioned because the profile was no longer—and had never been—about Haggis. Something which Remnick shamelessly confirmed only after the article was published in a recent Q&A with Canada's The Globe and Mail, wherein he describes the article as, “a 25,000-word piece on Scientology” with nary a mention of Haggis.

Apparently even Haggis claims he had initially been duped. He told a family member that when first sitting down with Wright he thought the “profile” was the result of his upcoming movie release. But Wright quickly disabused him, explaining that what he wanted was an in-depth interview about Scientology, adding: “Why else would The New Yorker want to interview you?”

No, this was not, to use Remnick’s words, an “extensive rigorously reported piece on someone’s life”; nor was it simply “a story on Scientology”—it was an anti-religion piece seen only through the eyes of an apostate.

Haggis had earned that status following his public disavowal of the Church some months earlier. In truth, he had gone out of his way to hide his membership for years and had not been active in the Church for better than three decades. All of which made his resignation much ado about nothing for everyone except, it would seem, Lawrence Wright and The New Yorker. (See the video The Many Personas of Paul Haggis and see A Freedom Profile of Paul Haggis: The Hypocrite of Hollywood.)

Haggis’s pretended “crisis of faith” was tied into the Internet fringe ramblings of a “Posse” of anti-Scientologists. They had recently launched a cottage industry pawning off fabricated allegations about the Church to the media. These apostates of the first order, including expelled former Church of Scientology staffers Marty Rathbun, Mike Rinder, Tom DeVocht and Amy Scobee, became Haggis’s best buddies and Wright’s less-than-authoritative sources.

That they were former staff members is key given they now obsess on the individual who removed them from their positions within the Church. Of course, within journalistic circles, using “formers” as sources is a chapter right out of The Investigative Reporter’s Handbook. As the authors note, “The formers often have scores to settle or outdated knowledge.” In fact, Wright’s embittered sources have both. And indeed, most have been gone from the Church five, ten, even more than 20 years and had no current information about Scientology.

The fact that “formers” act out of their need for self-justification and blame their former associates for their own misdeeds is another page from the “Apostate Primer.” In particular, the works of religious scholar and Oxford University professor, the late Bryan R. Wilson, Ph.D., who wrote, “As various instances have indicated, [the apostate] is likely to be suggestible and ready to enlarge or embellish his grievances to satisfy that species of journalist whose interest is more in sensational copy than in an objective statement of the truth.” That’s Rathbun, Rinder, DeVocht and Scobee, et al. to a “t”—not to mention apostate du jour Haggis.

Thus, at the hands of one of that “species of journalist,” the self-styled “publication of record” reduced itself to a supermarket tabloid by launching a tabloid-style attack on the Scientology religion.

It’s not as though Wright didn’t know the truth. The Church had provided him with volumes of information, including written statements from key sources in which they admitted to their lies and malfeasance. Moreover, these apostate statements were a matter of public record having long since been published online and in print. Also provided to The New Yorker were declarations sworn under oath from numerous outraged Church officials, refuting the untruths.

Wright simply ignored the overwhelming body of evidence because none of it suited the predetermined story that he and The New Yorker sought to publish.

Of course, a clue to Wright’s sympathy for the disaffected may stem from this autobiographic confession in which he describes his break from the Methodist religion: “I wasn't aware that these pessimistic thoughts of mine were part of the larger national impulse, a disillusionment with old values that would be characteristic of my generation. I only knew that in Dallas, Texas, in 1963, the voice inside me was the voice of apostasy…” So possibly the only thing Wright got right was use of the term “apostate.”

“… [The apostate] is likely to be suggestible and ready to enlarge or embellish his grievances to satisfy that species of journalist whose interest is more in sensational copy than in an objective statement of the truth.” That’s Rathbun, Rinder, DeVocht and Scobee, et al. to a “t”—not to mention apostate du jour
Haggis.

The true nature and tone of Wright’s piece was laid bare four months into the affair, as Wright finished his article when The New Yorker’s notorious “fact-checking” process began. While Wright was writing he had sent only three research inquiries in almost as many months. So, it came as a shock when, on August 25 and 26, an avalanche of 971 so-called “fact-check” questions landed in Church offices—with an eight-day deadline to reply. What was even more surprising was that 59 percent of the statements, assertions and questions he sent to “fact-check” were not factual at all. What were left included mundane details no one would question, such as verifying the title of Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health, if it was authored by L. Ron Hubbard and when the Church of Scientology was founded, to name just a few.

If the story had been well-researched and written, it would be easy to confirm the accuracy of “facts” but, as Church officials worked around the clock researching and answering The New Yorker’s questions they found many inaccurate, if not arcane, dating back more than 60 years, some exposing sheer ignorance, and still more blatantly offensive—it became clear that Wright’s article was not adhering to The New Yorker's mission statement of "original reporting." Instead, the questions telegraphed the fact he was relying on a wellspring of flawed and false information gathered from the underbelly of the Internet, unverified wiki entries, and, naturally, the handful of apostates.

Church officials, along with Church counsel, traveled to Condé Nast’s New York headquarters to present 48 binders of documentation belying the preposterous nature of the questions. As a comment on Wright’s journalistic integrity or lack thereof, the Church demonstrated that 59 percent of the facts he was “checking” from his finished article were utterly and irrefutably false. At which point, more than half of Wright’s anti-Scientology prose bit the dust. Only then was The New Yorker convinced to take a hard look at the facts.

Or so it seemed. Because after months of silence from the magazine, while the printing presses were literally warming up, the Church was hit with another onslaught of wildly objectionable, one-sided, mostly inaccurate and entirely bigoted fact-check questions.

This was clearly an underhanded and deliberate part of The New Yorker process. For in the end it was all about ensuring that the “truth” Wright wanted to present would never be subjected to the scrutiny it deserved.

So we get an article with:

A blatantly untrue accusation about the Church’s stance on gay rights. Wright ignored the fact that the Church never engages in any kind of election activities and cannot do so. Further, as a matter of policy, it rarely takes positions on legislation. Nor is it remotely a matter of faith, given the Creed of the Church makes clear that Scientology is open to all. Haggis knew this well and Wright ignored the facts even when they were in front of him in black and white.
A litany of fabricated stories about the religion, its Founder and ecclesiastical leader emanating from a handful of long-discredited apostates. They shopped their stories to a few media outlets and hooked The New Yorker with their dizzyingly-changing stories. Wright never even looked despite having declarations, affidavits, documentary and video evidence as to the falsity of their claims.
An apostate-corroborated fairy tale account of a pair of failed lawsuits instigated by a husband-and-wife apostate team. When a federal district court judge looked at the undisputed facts, including that both voluntarily joined Scientology’s religious order knowing the commitment of dedicated ministerial work, in none-too-blunt terms the judge dismissed both cases. The Church was awarded costs.
An alleged “investigation” of the Church, suspiciously saved for the end of the article, yet tellingly placed at the top of The New Yorker press release. Wright committed that ultimate journalistic sin of sleaze, carefully crafting his story to imply the “investigation” was the afterlife of the aforementioned dead-in-the-water “his and hers” court cases. While it might have been a neat trick to garner headlines, The New Yorker ignored all the information the Church provided showing it wasn't true before it went to press. Even other serious media didn’t buy the story.
A pack of unreliable and discredited sources. Not a minor point considering The New Yorker hides behind an air of journalistic arrogance. The Society of Professional Journalists’ Code of Ethics begins with the words, “Seek Truth and Report It.” The code exhorts against distortion and demands “the public is entitled to as much information as possible on sources’ reliability.” Wouldn’t that include disclosing three of Wright’s sources were involved in obstruction of justice and suborning perjury, among other go-to-jail criminal conduct?
An apologist entry of the cyberterrorist group “Anonymous,” who Wright so casually calls “a ‘hacktivist’ collective.” Missing is the fact that Anonymous has issued death and kidnapping threats of Church leaders, as well as threatening Churches and parishioners with fake anthrax threats, bomb and arson threats, acts of vandalism on Churches of Scientology as well as web-based attacks that has two of their members doing hard time in federal penitentiaries. Anonymous not only continues to be subject to investigation by the U.S. Department of Justice Hate Crimes division and a joint task force of the FBI, U.S. Secret Service, U.S. Attorneys Office and various state law enforcement agencies, but recently FBI agents arrested 16 Anonymous members across the United States.
Notably missing, not one fact about the Church today and all its ecclesiastical leader is doing to expand the religion: none of its newly opened Churches, nor the restoration of its Founder’s Scripture, nor the new state-of-the-art facilities for its propagation, nor its global humanitarian works. All available to Wright and all absent from the pages of The New Yorker. (Watch the video: How Lawrence Wright Got It So Wrong.)

All of which begs the question: Why did The New Yorker print anything from such a highly discredited and interlocking group of sources? (Watch the video: The New Yorker: Tabloid of Record.)

Clearly, it’s all about the money. Recently released single-copy sales figures revealed a 12-percent drop in just six months. Not to mention a consultant firm specializing in corporate downsizing is again roaming the halls of Condé Nast headquarters. With the article appearing in their heralded anniversary issue, sales were paramount—and their anti-Scientology piece was nothing more than a craven attempt to pimp up sales. And, money for Lawrence Wright, who said it best himself when talking to a group of journalism students about the article, “I get paid by the word. Of course, that's why the story was 25,000 words.” Thus, greed ruled the day, and The New Yorker went to press.

In the end, it was telling that Paul Haggis’s name wasn’t even on the cover flap of the magazine, nor was it in the table of contents.

Only one subject appeared on the cover, the subject Wright was attempting to defame from the start: the Church of Scientology.

Hence, the ruse of a Paul Haggis “profile” became the silver platter upon which Wright heaped lies, fabrications and false allegations until The New Yorker could barely contain the load of balderdash.

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How Lawrence Wright Got It So Wrong

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The Hypocrite of Hollywood

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Part I

HAGGIS

I’ve told that story so many times, I don’t know if it’s true or not.

But what does it matter so long as Paul Haggis “looks the part” when telling it all over again. He assumes a tough-guy demeanor, jamming his thumbs into the belt loops of his Levis. He waxes about himself to The New Yorker’s Lawrence Wright. He leans against the wall, one leg up on the bricks, striking a pose. Sure it’s corny. But so was “Rex Weller” on “Family Law.”

HAGGIS

I was a bad kid. I didn’t kill anybody. Not that I didn’t try.

And so begins the apocryphal autobiography of Paul Haggis, the doughy 58-year-old who’s so arrogant, he actually thought The New Yorker “profile” was actually about him.

But then again, he thinks everything is about him. The story of Haggis by Haggis is one in constant revision, wherein he casts himself as good guy, bad guy and comic relief. That’s the world in which he lives and where the line between truth and fiction is blurred like a character in search of a screenplay.

Cut to:

Interior of a writer’s home office in an upscale but unassuming Santa Monica neighborhood.

He sits alone at his desk, the room illuminated only by the screen of his laptop. He gently strokes his bald pate and then puts the finishing touches on an email.

Close up on the computer screen as the arrow mouses over the “send” button. Click. And it is done…

What subsequently arrives in the email account of the Scientology spokesperson is Haggis’s resignation from the Church of Scientology. That he had not been active in the Church for more than three full decades raises the question: How do you “resign” from something you were never a member of to begin with?

It all centered on an empty controversy Haggis invented surrounding California’s Proposition 8, the same-sex marriage referendum put to voters in 2008. In a series of posturing emails earlier sent to a Scientology spokesperson, he insisted the Church take a public stance on the issue, or else…

Of course, Haggis well knew the Church never engages in any kind of election activities. Moreover, it’s inclusive and does not discriminate against anyone based on sexual orientation.

Nonetheless, Haggis plays his part for all it’s worth.

Cut to:

Interior of a dark parking garage, a la All The President’s Men. It’s after hours and only a few cars remain.

Headlights stream across the concrete wall as a car drives down the ramp. A two-seat Tesla silently makes its way to the darkest corner. The headlights switch off and Haggis steps out of the car.

HAGGIS

Kingpin, is that you? What do you want? I’m still pretending I don’t know you and telling everyone you’re a whack job.

Kingpin steps out of the shadows and nods. He’s better known as Mark “Marty” Rathbun, a former external affairs officer, removed from authority within the Church almost a decade ago for gross malfeasance and violent behavior and has since made a pitiful career of peddling lies about the Church.

KINGPIN

Somebody sent me a copy of your resignation email.… I was wondering if I can post it on my blog.

HAGGIS

You don’t need my permission. You’re a journalist.

KINGPIN

Well, I’m hardly a journalist. I worked a couple of years ago for a supermarket giveaway to supplement my income as a ballpark beer salesman…

Haggis grabs Kingpin manfully by the lapels…

HAGGIS

This is my story and if I say you’re a journalist, you’re a journalist!

Haggis next plays the part of the “surprised apostate,” shocked that his email has leaked to the “media.” It’s not a very convincing performance.

Nonetheless, the Internet fringe is soon all abuzz with what Haggis himself described as his “treasonous act.”

Enter New Yorker staff writer Lawrence Wright, who apparently has never met a religion he didn’t disdain—trashing Mormons in the pages of The New Yorker and castigating a wide range of religions in a string of essays and stories. He latches on to Haggis as the means by which to attack Scientology. Wright’s missile is a story disguised as a “profile” of the filmmaker and his phony epiphany. Ever the opportunist, Haggis embraces Wright.

Part II

The logline of this follow-up flick reads: Paul Haggis, man of integrity and all-around good guy who takes a stand for his principles.

Of course, that synopsis conveniently leaves out any messy contradictions such as:

If Haggis feels so strongly about the gay rights issue, why isn’t he also standing up for the cause by refusing to accept the awards he is receiving from Catholic groups? Why isn’t he shipping back his “Catholics in Media Award” from Catholics in Media Associates? And why isn’t he buying postage to send the World Catholic Association “SIGNIS Award” back to Rome?

And why isn’t he resigning—on principle—from the Catholic organizations he works with in protest of the Vatican’s references to homosexuality as “intrinsic moral evil” and the Pope’s references to gay marriage as “insidious and dangerous”?

Yet Wright and The New Yorker never bothered to ask Haggis why he continues to accept these awards from a church that is by its doctrine categorically opposed to gay marriage.

Cut to:

Interior of a Hollywood party.

Enter Haggis, squiring a Catholic priest from an ultraconservative Passionist order. Haggis gently taps his wine glass with a Tiffany spoon he’s purchased just for such occasions.

HAGGIS

Good evening. I know none of you really like me and my reputation amongst my peers is dismal but I want you all to give my priest a check. If you do, I will look like a great humanitarian.

Cut to:

Exterior. Port-au-Prince airport.

Haggis has spent a few dusty days touring his priest around the rubble. He’s ready to get back to that Santa Monica bungalow.

He takes the gangway stairs two at a time to board a plane chartered as part of the Church of Scientology’s relief efforts.

HAGGIS
(to a passenger)

Is this seat taken?

PASSENGER

Well, I think it’s being saved for a physician or nurse who’s been working around the clock for weeks. Or it may also be for one of the Scientology Volunteer Ministers who left their homes to help the people of Haiti.

Haggis plops down in the seat and buckles up, never mentioning the fact he’s publicly disavowed the Church.

HAGGIS
(to himself)

I could really go for a nonfat cappuccino from Caffe Luxxe right about now…

As the plane readies for takeoff, Haggis looks to camera and winks.

Hitching a ride on the Church’s goodwill plane not only really happened, it’s quintessential Haggis. Using Scientology when it meets his egocentric purposes and tossing it aside when it doesn’t has always been part of the Haggis script. It’s a strategy he adopted the moment he arrived in Los Angeles from Canada in the 1970s. The L.A. sun had barely warmed his pasty complexion before he was using connections made at the Church to get a foot in the door of the entertainment industry.

Just to set the record straight, he never rose to Scientology’s “top spiritual level” as he claims. In fact, at the time he sent his “resignation” email, he hadn’t stepped through the doors of a Church in seven years and hadn’t progressed on any Scientology level since 1979. Moreover, as he confessed to Wright, he only read 30 pages of the most fundamental text of the religion, Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health.

Part III

In this installment, Haggis plays the “Family Man.”

The cast includes three daughters and his first wife. It’s 1992. Haggis has achieved some measure of success in Hollywood and so he follows a cliché storyline, filing for divorce.

In turn, the woman who had come to Los Angeles to support his career, raised his children while he pursued his career, finds herself starring in a brutal divorce-court drama that would ultimately run for seven years.

The daughters testify in divorce court that they do not want to live with their father. They say they hardly know him and want to live with the mother who raised them.

Cut to:

Interior courtroom. The Judge addresses Haggis.

JUDGE

Mr. Haggis, are you aware of the fact your daughters don’t want to live with you?

HAGGIS

I am, Your Honor.

JUDGE

And are you aware that because of your absenteeism and lack of affection, they don’t even think you love them?

HAGGIS

Yep. Kids these days…

JUDGE

When you know all that is true, how can you not let them live with their mother?

Cue music. A thoughtful, overly sappy score.

HAGGIS

I know I haven’t been much of a dad. And girls, I know you really don’t like me. I don’t blame you. But the bottom line is, I’m a selfish bastard and I am going to fight for custody. And you’re going to live with me whether you like it or not.

Through legal maneuverings and a grinding two-year custody battle, Haggis prevails and gains custody against the wishes of his daughters.

In another scene from the hypocrite’s family saga, Haggis sends two of his children, then 13 and 15, for psychiatric evaluation with a man who spent 18 years as a professor at UCLA’s Neuropsychiatric Institute. Haggis does so flying directly in the face of Scientologists’ view that psychiatry is an anathema to spiritual well-being. So much for Haggis, Scientologist.

This episode doesn’t exactly play out according to Haggis’s outline. The girls rebel and demand to be sent to a boarding school in rural Oregon. Haggis capitulates.

But even after graduation, there is no happily ever after.

Middle daughter Lauren, 27, reminisced about her father to The New Yorker’s Wright saying he never came home until late at night and “I didn’t even know why he wanted us. I didn’t really know him.” Indeed, Lauren expressed her disdain for her father.

As Wright wrote:

“Though Haggis is passionate about his work, he can be cool toward those who are closest to him. Lauren…said that he never connected with his children. ‘He’s emotionally not there.”’

As for daughter Alissa, she too suffered a period of estrangement from her uncaring father. For a number of years the two didn’t even speak. Now, Alissa, 33, the oldest of the three siblings, told Wright she and Haggis have a “working relationship” and “see each other for Thanksgiving and some meals.”

Recently, in an apparent effort to make up for the lack of family movies from her childhood, Haggis lovingly cast her as a “murderous drug addict” in his latest film.

Haggis’s youngest daughter, Katy, 26, refused to be interviewed by Wright.

Part IV

HAGGIS

I had a fabulous education, not in what they thought they were teaching me, but I learned how to subvert any system. It required a lot of the characteristics of a criminal mind.

So Haggis sets the stage for this sequel, wherein he casts himself as a sort of James Bond character—minus the looks, savoir-faire, ethical standards—and not out to save anyone but himself.

It begins with a scene weighted with symbolism.

Cut to:

Exterior. A wooden bridge.

Close on Haggis. He whistles to himself as he drives his Tesla midway across and stops.

Medium long shot as he gets out of the car. He takes a can of petrol out of the boot (he calls them “petrol” and “boot” because that’s what the Brit, Bond, would say).

He pours the contents on the wide wooden planks of the bridge.

In slow motion, he lights a match. He drops it to the ground. The gasoline…petrol catches fire and the flames spread across the bridge.

Close up on Haggis, still in slow motion, a tortured scream on his face.

Long shot of the Tesla now engulfed in flames.

It’s all a metaphor not only for the car he lost to armed thugs, but also the bridges he’s burned in Hollywood.

Take, for example, the lucrative deal his production company inked with one Hollywood studio. After pocketing $5 million, Haggis failed to deliver a single script. He even reneged on his promise to polish other studio properties to compensate for the scripts that never materialized. When tales of his seven-figure high jinks hit the grapevine, the Hollywood rumor mill went into high gear and word on the street was Haggis’s Hwy 61 production company was, in actuality, a dead end.

And of course, Haggis had high hopes for his Lionsgate film The Next Three Days with Russell Crowe. But the movie was a box-office bust before the next three hours had come and gone. And the critics didn’t spare the rod. The New Yorker’s own David Denby said it was “a caper without play or wit.”

Other reviews speak for themselves:

“It’s damn hard to enjoy a thriller when you don’t, won’t, can't believe a word of it.” —Rolling Stone
“Not much more than a meticulously detailed, very long instructional video.” —New York Times

Then comes the penultimate scene of this marathon. By this time, Haggis has shed his 007 persona and is back to being “the deeply broken person” he confesses to be.

Haggis is now separated from wife number two, with whom he shares a son. Having had to shell out a cool $4 mil for her Manhattan condo, Haggis reportedly finds himself cash poor. And in a town where you’re only as good as your last film, no one is exactly beating a path to his bachelor pad door.

Cut to:

Interior SoHo Club, West Hollywood.

Haggis sits at a table, laptop open, typing.

A 20-something waitress comes to the table.

WAITRESS

Can I get you anything?

HAGGIS

How about a three-picture deal with a major studio and a conscience?

WAITRESS

I meant something off the menu.

HAGGIS

No thanks.

WAITRESS

You’re in here every day. What are you working on?

HAGGIS

It’s a spec script I’ve been writing for over a year. Every time I finish it, I think it’s not good enough and I start rewriting.

WAITRESS

You ever hear the one about the young starlet who was so dumb she slept with a writer?

Haggis nods.

WAITRESS

Me too.

She turns and walks away. Haggis rests his jowls in his palms and stares at his computer screen.

The next scene is a flashback. It takes place in the backyard of Haggis’s Santa Monica home, before he leaked his “resignation” email.

A group of Scientologists, his now former friends, approach him sincerely. He’s sent them his email and they take issue with his mischaracterizations of Scientology and outright lies about the Church.

At the meeting, Haggis first pretends innocence and tells Church members that he has not been in touch with self-admitted suborner of perjury Marty Rathbun, even making disparaging remarks about Rathbun. Haggis adds that he thinks Rathbun’s apostate “Posse” poster boy, virulent anti-Scientologist and character actor Jason Beghe, is “nuts.” But, in fact, at precisely that point in time, Haggis had indeed already cast Beghe in a bit part in his movie. In other words, Haggis lies to the friends he has known, some for better than 20 years.

Finally, there is the denouement, wherein Haggis attempts to tie up all the loose ends of his sordid tale.

He strikes a practice “philosophic” pose—back arched slightly, his crossed arms inadvertently accentuating his paunch. This is the moment he delivers his apologist, mea culpa monologue. The dialogue is unembellished and real. He scripted it to try to explain away his hypocrisy by casting it in a universal light, to attempt to convince himself that everyone is just like him.

Exterior. Haggis lights a cigarette for effect.

HAGGIS

I guess we all try to know ourselves somehow, and at the same time we’re all trying to fool ourselves. We’re trying to package ourselves into something that others will like, or others will admire, even when we’re pretending not to.

He tosses the cigarette to the ground, rubbing it out with the toe of his Ferragamo black crocodile moccasin ($2,600 a pop, Neiman Marcus).

HAGGIS

…we’re always lying to each other.

No, Paul, we aren’t.

Fade to black…

The End

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Who is Paul Haggis

An Open Letter to Mike Rinder

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The Many Personas of Paul Haggis

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Another violent outburst by Rathbun ends in jail time

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Shielding Her Violence-Prone Husband

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New talking head for Hamburg hatemonger

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Paul Haggis - A Biography

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The New Yorker: What a Load of Balderdash

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How Lawrence Wright Got It So Wrong

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The Hypocrite of Hollywood

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