Cults: Where Do I Sign Up?
Hello gigantic Joe Zimmerman blog fanbase.
This week I’m watching “The Vow” on HBO about the Nxivm cult. I feel stupid spelling it the way they do, but I also feel stupid spelling it different. I’ve now watched three cult documentaries (four if you count Dave Matthews live at Red Rocks) and my quandary is these cult members really seem like they’re having a great time. They’re always riding horses together, dancing, singing, hugging, fortifying a perimeter, target practice drills, always doing something together, as a team. I can’t help feeling like I’m missing out.
I think cults are basically summer camps for adults, except you can’t leave. There’s a lot of personal growth and working toward a higher purpose, and even if that higher purpose is wrong (i.e. the world needs more Nxivm training!) I bet it’s nice to share in one — until the poisonings or beaver murders kick in of course.
And you have these very clear things to bond over with your new friends. You’re all wearing the same robe, for one thing. The government is after you, and who doesn’t want to fight the man? You all agree your favorite band is the one your cult leader plays drums for, and they jam every Friday night at the “center” and everyone comes out like it’s Woodstock: “Oh, is Carpe playing tonight? Let’s go see Carpe at the center! I heard Baghwan might break his silence!”
In this particular Nxivm cult, the cult leader guy (Keith) used to be a salesman for Amway, after which he did two failed pyramid schemes, before landing on Nxium, in Albany New York, billed a training center, of sorts. As far as his appearance, he looks like a substitute PE teacher: short, out of shape, and always playing volleyball. And even though everyone in the cult seems to agree he’s a genius, he got a 2.2 GPA at a college I haven’t heard of. Yet another confirmation that college GPA truly does not matter.
If you are reading this right now, unsure if you’re in a cult, here are a few signs:
You frequently tell people you’re not in a cult (this is the primary sign).
You live in a community with a series of buildings that are located close to each other (that’s called a “compound”)
You work 12-hour days to reach some next level in which you’ll be paid only in scarves (this is the brainwashing).
They ask you for “collateral” to finalize your “commitment” (that’s the blackmail).
The government keeps investigating your “community” and you feel defensive, saying things like, “Why won’t the freaking FBI leave us alone??!”
There are a lot of actors in your “community,” and/or you are an actor.
The first few “trainings" you work to get rid of your “limiting beliefs”. This is the beginning of psychological manipulation, which they will use against you later. For example:
Cult leader: “Hello my dear, do you mind if I kiss you?”
You: “Oh! I’m not attracted to you in that way, sorry Baghwan.”
Cult leader: “That’s a limiting belief.”
You: “Hmm. Is it though?”Cult Leader: “What are you afraid of?”
You: “I’m afraid I put too much money in Bitcoin? It’s very volatile.”
Cult Leader: “Alexa, dim the lights and play Spotify evening wind down mix.”
Alexa: “I didn’t quite get that. Did you say ‘Dinner Tarzan stocks to buy Amy Winehouse mints’?”
*Cult Leader kisses you tenderly
**Amy Winehouse plays in background.
Now, even though I’m pretty gullible, it’s unlikely I’ll ever join a cult because I just can’t see myself working 12-hour unpaid shifts, or getting less than 5 hours of sleep doing sing-a-longs until 2 a.m. So one other thing I’ve considered is starting up my own cult. That way I could keep my normal sleep hours, and I wouldn’t be the one doing the manual labor. The only thing I’m missing is a boat load of unrelenting, manic, semi-delusional confidence, which in order to get, I may need to attend some Nxivm training. Which is unfortunate, because they are very expensive.
But after listing out the pros and cons, I decided being a cult leader isn’t for me. For one thing, you’re constantly being investigated by the FBI. That would stress me out. Just driving 50 in a 45 zone makes me extremely nervous. I can’t imagine the constant threat of life in prison for racketeering and sex trafficking.
Another issue would be the marketing. These cults are heavy on the promo, pleading with new entrants to recruit five more friends to sign up. It’d be like ending a comedy show with, “Now I’d say you’ve been a great crowd, but the truth is you won’t have been truly great until you convince five friends to come out tomorrow night! If you’ve laughed at all, you owe it to yourself to coerce your friends!”
I think I’d consider it more if I were able to pick some successful and likable followers, but that’s the opposite of who would pay to do chores for me. Ultimately, you don’t get to pick the people who are obsessed with you. Plus I really enjoy my quiet mornings, and I imagine my admirers would be interrupting me with those glazed over devotion eyes:
“Oh great one, can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“I’m good.”
“Oh mighty one, can I rub your back.”
”You just did that.”
“Oh master, can I ask your advice about my commercial audition next week?”
”I’m in the middle of embezzling Rene. These 90-acre compounds don’t pay for themselves.”
Finally, you let her set up an offshore bank account so she’ll leave you in peace. I wouldn’t have the patience for it. It’s like I’m here to be your spiritual advisor, not your best bud.
Well, thank you for reading this amazing blog. In spite of all odds, I remain humble. Let me know in the comments if you’d join my cult, and how much you’d pay me to live in my guest room and do my chores. I’d like to move to a bigger apartment in Brooklyn, so any financial help would be awesome and I’d also like a dog, if you can bring a dog to my cult let me know.
