![]() I’m sure Father Yod would be no different. Where previously unforeseen spiritual clarity and emotional intelligence in some newfound way is promised alongside a simple, back to the basics lifestyle, the cynical, post-aughts side of my consciousness always veers toward thinking I’ve encountered a scam. It’s not just in “ Martha Marcy May Marlene“ that one may glimpse modern culthood. Especially anything proselytized by folks like Jim Jones or David Koresh or Aleister Crowley I could do without, but the extreme examples always grab all the headlines. Yet whether the flavor of the month is eastern inflected or based on the ramblings of a burly sci-fi writer, I don’t have the time of day. ![]() Collectivism, communism, various forms of communal religious experience, even The Borg on “ Star Trek: The Next Generation” not so much since I don’t lump especially egregious forms of each in with the garden variety pejoratives often associated with cults and their members, perhaps I’m giving in to convention. The allure of cults has always escaped me. ![]()
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