Locals shopping at the Gelson’s in Los Feliz

I was shopping at Gelson’s in Los Feliz with the usual crowd of locals. As I turned onto aisle 5 there stood Scientologist and remote viewer Ingo Swann staring at me.

“Ingo? I thought you died in 2013,” I exclaimed.

“I died in 2013 in your timestream,” he explained. “However, I just used your Stargate to time travel from 1972 where I’m still alive. By the way, Hal Puthoff told me to say hello to you.”

I held my hand out. Ingo gave me ten 1877 US $50 gold pieces. That’s what I charge people to use my Los Feliz Stargate — and I assume no risks for what happens to them during transport.

I pocketed the gold pieces and asked Ingo how I could help him.

“LRH sent me. He wants to come from 1972 and visit you in 2019. He wants to see for himself if Scientology really is a disaster like you told him when you time traveled and visited the Apollo.”

I glared at Ingo.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “LRH said he is very sorry for overboarding you when you visited the ship. He said he had to do it to keep up appearances with the crew.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Have Ron meet me yesterday at noon here in front of Gelson’s.”

*****

I met Ron when he showed up at noon yesterday. Like Ingo, Ron had to pay my Stargate toll before we proceeded. Although we were in front of Gelson’s, Ron didn’t recognize the Celebrity Centre across the street as Scientology didn’t purchase it until 1973 when it was then called the Fifield Manor. Gelson’s was also called the Mayfair market back then but I digress. I decided to take Ron to the Celebrity Centre later. We would instead begin his visit by driving over to Pac Base.

Resplendent in his Commodore’s hat, ascot, and RayBan’s, Ron clambered into the front passenger seat of my Lexus. He was very complimentary. “This is a gorgeous car, simply gorgeous,” he enthused. “And why, ahhh, it happens to be an exact copy of the cars they drove 10,000 years ago. You know,” he explained, “In the last 10,000 years the Marcab Confederation has gone on with a sort of decadent kicked-in-the-head civilization that contains automobiles, business suits, fedora hats, telephones, spaceships — a civilization which looks almost an exact duplicate but is worse off than the current US civilization.”

FFS, I said to myself. It was going to be a long day. Worse, Ron was just getting started with his nonstop blathering. He then demanded an ice cream cone. I took him over to the Baskin-Robbins on Western and bought him an ice cream cone. After he had a triple scoop of vanilla, he told me that he needed to buy cigarettes. I understood as cigarettes, lighters, and many other objects won’t pass through the Stargate. Gold coins will always pass through however.

We walked next door to the Pink Elephant liquor store. Ron asked for four packs of Kools and a Bic lighter. The clerk put them on the counter and charged Ron $29.22. Ron was gobsmacked by the price. “Inflation and taxes Ron,” I informed him, “have driven the cost of a pack of cigarettes in California to $6.50 a pack.”

“I warned everyone about inflation and the income tax back in 1968!” Ron bellowed. He reached for his wallet but it was not there; the Stargate had annihilated it. “I have no money,” Ron announced. “Don’t worry Ron,” I assured him, “I’ll pay for anything you need on this trip and you can send me some gold coins later.” He agreed.

  L. Ron Hubbard at the Pink Elephant

I told Ron he couldn’t smoke in my car so we stood in front of the Pink Elephant where he chain-smoked five Kools. I was texting as he watched. “What is this device?” he asked.

“A phone,” I replied. “I can also send typewritten messages on it all over the world. Think of it as a portable telex in my pocket.”

Ron studied the phone and announced, “When I was working as a nuclear physicist we envisioned devices such as this. We wanted the atom put to peaceful purposes like the compact nuclear-powered phone you are holding. We also had designs on the drawing boards for atomic-powered airplanes, washing machines, e-meters and so forth.”

“Fascinating,” I remarked.

“How does your Stargate work?” Ron asked.

“It’s a secret Ron. I can’t tell you.”

“But I’m a nuclear physicist and perfectly capable of understanding higher mathematics and double-factoral double datums and whatnot. Things even Einstein failed to grasp. This is Scientology you see: Science, axioms and so forth.”

“Let me think about it Ron. But for now let’s head over to Pac Base….”