Whether one feels that Wilhelm Reich was a brilliant mind who deteriorated, or a man a hundred years ahead of his time, or a charlatan, it no longer really matters. No one can deny that he made a great impression in his own time, and that for years to come his name will arise when people discuss the peculiarities of the human mind. He may well have been the most fascinating patient he ever had.
*****
As we have seen a number of times during this book, many of these stories divide into two, or more phases, and this is particularly true of the adventures and successes of Thurman Fleet. In the beginning, his “philosophy” of healing and health for the body, mind and soul, was independent of other specific bits. It was introduced as a thing and a thought in itself, later it became almost interwoven with chiropractic, at least a good part of it. In 1950, Fleet brought out a blue-bound, gold-lettered volume presenting his “laws of the body,” “laws of the mind,” and “laws of the soul.” It was sort of a combination diet and hygiene, psychoanalysis and etiquette, religion and social philosophy, text. None of it very deep, none of it very original.
The portion dealing with the body was divided into four general categories: the law of nourishment, the law of movement, the law of recuperation, the law of sanitation. The first section was little more than a very fundamental “health food” pitch, with a few suggested menus tacked on the end of the advice. Part two was an early version of the power of positive thinking approach. Fleet took a strong position against “worry.” Once you let worry begin, it grows and grows until it really gets out of hand. Therefore he wrote a “law that governs worry,” which requires that one discover the cause of the worry, that he eliminate it by intelligent action. If this isn’t possible he must accept the problem and stop worrying. Which, you have to admit, is a pretty wild way of preventing gray hairs. Fleet also adds that you shouldn’t create worries. And how do you argue with that? It is, as must be obvious, a very, profound book.
The profound thinker also had “laws” against “anger,” which may take the form of indignation, rage, or fury. In this category he also warns against desire, ambition, selfishness, pride, irritability, and such things. As you follow through his preachings, you note that he takes a dim view of jealousy, criticism, condemnation, gossip and slander. He disapproves of vanity, deceit, hypocrisy, prejudice, intolerance, and self-destruction. He is also against hate and sin. He wholly approves of moral aspirations, generosity, patience, and faith, hope and charity. Of course, these last are properly found in his “laws of the soul.” If all of this has a faint ring of familiarity, it’s understandable. You have heard it before. Everywhere.
As the years went by, attractive mailing pieces went out, executed in appealing colors with audience-wise copy. “Live a Life More Abundantly—Concept-Therapy Teaches You How!” “How to Get Well and Stay Well.” “The Secrets of Living.” “…essentials for obtaining health, happiness, and financial success.” In short, the strong pitch continued, telling how Concept-Therapy teaches a philosophy of life which coordinates the basic truths of religion and philosophy—but is not a religion—and embraces the evolution of consciousness both human and Divine, making them more comprehensible. How about that!
The circulars go on to assure the reader that with Fleet’s all-purpose panacea they’ll find out that Man is a composite personality that must be considered in its entirety. You discover that the brain is like a broadcasting station, that negative thought is bad and positive thought is good, that man can control both kinds if he reads Mr. Fleet’s books, and takes his courses. And oodles of other deep, thinky things. But that’s just the beginning. When you’ve been taken through the entire Concept-Therapy bit, you’re then offered the opportunity to wade into the additional books and courses where you realize that maybe Concept-Therapy wasn’t so great after all, since now they feel you require the gloriously revealing—“Conceptology.”
Now, it was mentioned a little earlier that many of these gaffs are divided up into two, or more, phases. This is true of Concept-Therapy. While you may go through considerable material by Fleet and never come across the idea, or word, “chiropractic,” there is one arm of the operation which is tightly tied-in with that particular area of “therapy.” Without going into the subject itself, it might be pointed out that chiropractic and its practitioners are licensed in some states and not in others; at least such is the case as this is written. The system itself is based upon the idea that disease and disorders are cured by manipulation and adjustment of the spinal column, or segments of it. It’s not surprising that one might wonder what a “philosophy” which announces: “If you are a layman, Concept-Therapy will end your quest for ‘What Is Truth?’” has to do with a system of physical therapy.
The answer is not complicated. Fleet has what has been estimated as a half-million-dollar “National Home” for his “On the Beam” Club headquarters near San Antonio, Texas. Named “AUM-SAT-TAT RANCH,” it also serves as a School for the instruction of Concept-Therapy, particularly of “doctors.” In one of Fleet’s pamphlets, it’s highly recommended and introduced to the reader by the “Pres. Texas Chiropractic College.” The good gentleman’s name appears right above his title, but beyond “Jas R…” the scrawl is unreadable. Here, in addition to all of the other universal teachings of Concept-Therapy, chiropractic, itself, is taught. The best and most scientific and all like that. But more interesting is the “complete course in “How to Sell Chiropractic Service.” And if you really want to get a clear and brutal picture of the entire pitch, you naturally would want to take the “Business Building Plan”; which is “considered the best in the field by well-known doctors.” If you don’t get the point yet, you look a little further and you find out that it’s a “complete instruction as to how to secure patients.” After that, what need be added?
*****
However, don’t believe that the list of such operations is short. Some are more subtle, some are less, but many activities fall into this self-same category. Take, for instance, “Humanetics.” This is the “philosophy” of Richard W. Wetherill.
“Humanetics is the science of perfective thinking. It is an exact science. It develops unused faculties. It releases brainpower. It cures sickness. It ends a wide variety of troubles for men, women and children in every walk of life.” So writes Wetherill, and if you think that he intends to leave any possible customer for his new philosophy out, you haven’t yet begun to get the picture of these operations.
Protecting itself with the occasional statement that it isn’t sponsored by any group, which is easy to believe, at least, it sometimes claims that it doesn’t need support. But, of course, its publications aren’t all free and neither are the lectures given by its originator. It also takes the position that it’s in no way a religious organization or crusade. Its only purpose is that it opposes “illogical thinking.”
Like all of its friendly (one group rarely says anything to discredit another) competitors, “Humanetics” claims to be a “formula that would end all human afflictions.” And how does it go about accomplishing all of these marvels? Well, it seems to go something like this. According to the good Mr. Wetherill, there’s a single cause of human afflictions, and that is “wrong thinking.” That is, “illogical thinking…thinking which leads to illogical action.” Of course, you undoubtedly realize that this means action which “causes trouble.”
In one of Wetherill’s pamphlets, he observes that “the average man goes to bed when he would rather stay up. Next morning he gets up when he would rather stay in bed.” He points out that this creates emotional distress and illogical thinking. If this sounds at all like an echo, go back and reread the part about Eli Greifer’s “Nightowltherapy.”
Humanetics views the mind as an electronic computer, thinking being accomplished by the making and breaking of nerve connections in the brain. Each thought establishes a connection, an “illogical concept establishes an illogical nerve connection.” That is, illogical “commands” repeated are li
able to become fixed; and this can cause permanent trouble. This leads you into the paths of “negative thinking,” and everybody knows how bad that can be. In other words, you really have to keep your ears open and your nerves shut to “command phrases.”
Now, the problem everyone has is to eliminate these “command phrases” from the brain. And the way to achieve this end is to put yourself into the swing of Humanetics. Echoing psychoanalysis, Wetherill tells his followers that it’s necessary to raise the illogical thought from the subconscious to the conscious levels, making it possible for the patient to view the command phrase without “negative emotion,” which apparently means, clearly. In that moment of illuminating truth, the problem is recognized and erased. Employing this method, according to Wetherill, one can eliminate, cure, and in general relieve the problems of all mental, emotional, spiritual and physical sicknesses, illnesses and disorders.
As is the case with almost all of the healer and health merchants, Wetherill has lectured extensively, has innumerable pamphlets and a couple of books available for the faithful, and is happy to get any and all publicity he can. As far as I am concerned, there’s little to choose between one physical, spiritual or psychological medicine man and another.
*****
The Reverend James W. Welgos is another of the prophets with a different flag in each hand. Operating out of a small community in Alabama, he’s the promoter of a thing he calls “Nexology.” In this “metaphysics,” the claims are even more dramatic and ridiculous. They include the powers of telepathy, mind-reading, telekinesis (moving physical objects with thought), teleportation (moving physical objects, including one’s body, over a considerable distance), levitation (raising physical things), and healing. In other words, “Nexology” is the “science that explains all things.” It’s a pitch that’s woven completely through with religiosity and mysticism. Welgos has a pamphlet which quotes satisfied customers, or anyway followers, who assure the reader that they have learned how to redistribute the weight on their bodies without diet or change of poundage, to make and stop rain, to dissipate clouds, to force actions with the power of thought, to control the mind and the flight of a fly, to make money without talent, to read Braille in two hours, and other equally exaggerated and improbable claims.
Apparently another, or interlocking name, for “Nexology,” is the “Living Faith,” both of which seemed to be produced by an organization called “Human Engineering, Inc.” The last of these three gives the impression of being the mother and dominant of the enterprises. Naturally, all were created, and are operated by, the Rev. James W. Welgos.
Unlike many of his counterparts, Welgos tends to keep himself in the background—that is, as a personality—and concentrates on pushing his pitches. Often the materials coming out from his group, and, one assumes, written by him—are unsigned. A second point he builds into his “philosophy” is levels of achievement. You begin by being completely on the outside. Then you become a student called a “neophyte.” The second degree makes you a “disciple,” and when you’ve completed your studies you’re a “master.”
“Human Engineering” offered many outlets for your energies and interests, among them: “Lessons in Living,” which were twice-a-week instructions for personal adjustment; many monographs and pamphlets; a bi-weekly magazine; group meetings and counseling; personal counseling on a daily basis; a several-month summer training course; special meditation circles; and more.
Among the basic points of the Welgosian philosophy are the division of all mankind into two categories: “those who wish to change themselves, and those who wish to change their environment.” Since almost all students begin in the second group, the major problem is to raise them into the first. After that, they have to work for the real “integration”—they must rise above both classes.
The “tools” for achieving the powers of Human Engineering are eight in number. “Verbal Realness,” “Own Actions,” “Actions of Others,” and so on. If it appears that there are areas of duplication, it’s because they often repeat themselves, and you can’t say a good thing too often.
There are, says Welgos, various levels that the would-be humanistic engineer can work on to improve his lot. One is the “Social Level,” where he can indulge in reverse “command phrases,”—although, of course, he doesn’t actually use Wetherill’s words. In this effort, the student tries to “build a new reality” by building commands into the conscious, and by extension subconscious, mind. An example would be: “I will not gamble.” Repeated over and over again, it’s the contention of the good Reverend that the habit will be eliminated. Word association is offered as an effective way of locating a problem so that it can be cured. And there are a number of other techniques on the “Social Level.”
Another category is “The Action Level,” where poise, physical culture, sports, dancing, yoga, and massage are considered important. The third area of effort is the “Sensory Level,” which includes dieting, medical attention, Gestalt psychology, dianetics, hypnotism, gas therapy, electrical therapy, light therapy, music therapy and sound therapy. The music therapy reminds one of Greifer, and his bows toward L. Ron Hubbard are several. “The Awareness Level” is the final and most glorified of all, being attained through much subtler methods.
The “light therapy” reminds one for a moment of another wild gaff which might be called “color therapy.” It’s the “Color and Personality” theory of a woman named Audrey Kargere. She suggests that a would-be patient lie on a bed and cover his face with a piece of green cellophane. Now he stares at an electric light. The result of this bit of nonsense will be that “the pituitary gland, which is the master gland governing all other glands of the body, will be stimulated.” The power of color is relatively unlimited when she gets her “Philosophy” onto it. Red helps to cure lagging appetite, hiccough, colic, smallpox and superficial pain. Blue is good for inflammation of the iris, difficulty in breathing, and convulsions. Other colors are equally valuable for other disorders.
Dr. Rolf Alexander is a gentleman of a humanist attitude and an interesting approach to life, and while I don’t put him into the same grouping as I do most of the preceding I still feel that I should mention his theory of cloud dispersal. He’s sort of a rainmaker turned inside out. That is, he believes—and even believes that he can demonstrate that he can stare at a cloud and make it disappear. Dr. Alexander also speaks of some kind of psychic anthropology which has attracted the attention of a number of people interested in the offbeat.
And then there is Dr. Banik, who tried to stimulate interest in “Hunzaland” where people live to be considerably more than one hundred, and the advocates of “H-3,” which is reputed to rejuvenate the aging and increase the life span.
It isn’t necessary to point out that simple health food fadists number in the tens of thousands in this country, and the various pitches appealing to this form of enthusiasm are way up in the hundreds.
Someone is always seeking health, many seek super-health, and the allied areas of spiritual and mental well-being have even greater attraction. From these natural wishes and wants spring literally millions of potential customers, who have no problem finding people who are anxious to tell and sell them something…anything. There’s always a new pitch, even if it is very much like most of the old ones. Pseudo-scientific, pseudo-religious, pseudo-metaphysical, pseudo this, that and the third thing. Add them all together and they spell most of the philosophies, so-called, referred to in the last few pages. But that’s the story of this kind of bit.
CHAPTER 9—DEROS, DEVILS, AND SNOWMEN
“By night an atheist half believes in a God.”—Edward Young
THE EXTRAORDINARY creature, the sub-and super human being, the other worlder, is as old as the imagination of man. In prehistoric times he was always bodiless—a spirit of the forest, waterfall, or cave. Even though he was pictured that way, he had a tremendous influence over primitive man—to the degree of actually directing all of the more important fun
ctions of his life. As the ages went by, the advancing mind of ancient man peeled away a thin veneer of its gullibility; and so the tribal leaders began materializing the demons right out of the night. Giving them animal and half-animal bodies, horrible faces, unhuman voices,—all the while, of course, retaining their extranatural powers.
Then, as the prehistoric superstitions started to change into the slightly more sophisticated primitive religions, the descriptions of these mystical creatures began to be translated into crude drawings, carvings, and eventually idols.
By the time man had reached ancient China and Egypt, the other worlders had become a vast and complicated society of their own. And this society was peopled by good, in between, and bad citizens—most of whom could be contacted to perform special services by people of the normal world who were “on the inside.”
Down through the history of Europe one can find dozens of such creatures, a great many of which were common to, and lived in, a particular region or country. The trolls of Scandinavia, the little people of Ireland, the dwarfs of Germany, the elves of England, and so on—although of course there were many others, and often a term common in one country was almost equally popular in another.
Diabolical as some of these creatures were described to be, they shouldn’t be confused with the specifically Satanic familiars, devils, and demons of the several-hundred-year period of actual witchcraft hysteria that took place in these and other countries.
Obviously one might fill up books, investigating the thousands of types of strange “things” that populate the shadows and the night in the various countries of the earth, but we’re concerned with the myths, half-myths, and—who knows?—maybe even realities of our own time. Of course, the following will be stories of the comparably unbelievable legends of this age; we won’t be concerned with dredging up a few .of the fragment tales about the old-time dwarfs, elves, and gnomes who still “appear” from time to time in the Twentieth Century.
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