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The following first appeared in the private email list IVy-subscribers,
which was available to all those who subscribed to the
printed magazine, International Viewpoints.
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Just a little bitty bit more about service facsimiles
by Phil Spickler
4 Mar 00

      In this latest and perhaps not last mention of this subject, I shall
propose a contest in which folks knowingly (instead of unknowingly) submit
one or more of their most favorite service facsimiles, which will be
carefully judged by a panel of experts in this area, soon to be appointed,
and the winners (how could there be any losers?) shall all receive special
prizes that are even now being assembled at our little Soul Shop.

      And now, to this evening's entertainment.  Having on one or more
occasions spent some quality time in those institutions that we here in
America call insane asylums, I feel especially qualified to speak on the
subject of insanity, as well as its lesser counterpart sanity, and I think it
gives me a decided edge and expertise regarding various areas that I have
chosen in the past and in the present to communicate about in the noble halls
of the IVy-subscribers list.

       Several of my good friends who inhabit this list are fellow experts in
the subject of the noble and precious feline, AKA the cat; and when these
people speak to me about cats, I sit up and pay lots of attention, because I
know they have much direct and successful experience with the item, in both
its best and worst forms, and might properly be called "cat masters."  I pale
in comparison to some of their insights, and tremendously enjoy the private
interchanges that we have on the subject.

        I myself (whoever that is) was born and bred in the school of
Dianetics and Scientology, and early on gained access to what I came to
consider a very important and exclusive club, namely, the one entitled
"auditor," or "professional auditor."  There are many things about this club
that make it special, even into this present moment, because primarily the
beingness of "auditor" is the one that makes it possible to take all the
ideas of L. Ron Hubbard and others who have, for better or for worse,
attempted to find out things about the soul, mind and body, the composite if
you will, and examine these theories to see (you'll excuse the metaphor) if
they hold water.
 An auditor has always been someone who could actually perform the
experiment, over and over again, to see if the theory was anything more than
a theory.

       And so, just like someone who has spent a lot of time with cats, an
auditor gets to spend a lot of time with souls, minds and bodies -- the
composite -- and eventually gains the position of sufficient mastery and
familiarity with such subject to be able to speak about it in a more or less
factual way, not just as opinions or feelings-about or thoughts concerning,
but actual knowing about the thing at hand.

       Now one of my favorite service facsimiles, which I use on a regular
basis on the IVy list and on some of the people who communicate on it, goes
as follows: anyone who isn't a highly-trained auditor and has not really
"paid their dues" in this area by being able to take almost any piece of
tech, even in things beyond or different things than Scientology, and make it
work in such a way as to obtain good results for someone may not speak on the
subject and gain my attention or respect.

        And so I use my years of experience and training and experimenting
and familiarity with auditing to make myself right and others, who have not
achieved these skills and entered this hallowed club, wrong.  I'm really
leveling with anyone who's foolish enough to be listening to these words.

      I've also spent many years listening to people talk about cats who have
never actually had a cat, who have never lived with a cat, who have never
learned all the amazing and wonderful things about cats, who might say things
like "I don't like cats," or "You can't trust cats," or "Cats kill babies,"
etc. etc.  I treat such people with great disdain and don't even bother to
engage in social intercourse with them, because they don't know their
subject.

       So when I talk about service facsimiles, I present them as a theory
that was put forth starting in 1951 by L. Ron Hubbard; but let it be known
that from 1952 on, as an auditor, I have made it my business to test that
theory and see if it tends in the direction of holding true for the hundreds
of people that I've been privileged to work with over the years.  And so I'm
here to say that although all cases are not in, anyone who has the skills to
work with another person in the examination of the postulates, the
considerations, and the decisions that make us what we are will find that
most of what has been theorized about service facsimiles and their effect on
people and their dynamics is a reproducible and successful experiment.

       In my less-than-humble opinion, it's never too late to learn how to be
an auditor, and the values for yourself and others are tremendous.  It is
perhaps the most civilizing exercise discovered in the 20th century; but most
important of all, it gives you the tools necessary to check these theories
out so that when you speak about such matters, you won't embarrass yourself
and others by simply blowing hot air.

      It's a humbling and perhaps reality-building experience to find out
that just because you can't see or understand something doesn't mean you have
to energize a beingness to argue the pros and cons of its existence, or even
worse, repeat ad nauseum your convictions about the possibilities as to
whether something exists or not.  When Louis Pasteur, a few years before the
writing of this essay, looked through his microscope (a device invented by
others), and was at last able to see all these little wiggling germs or
bacteria, he practically ran through the streets saying, "I have discovered
what makes people sick!"  The physicians of the French medical academy of
that period were so contemptuous of Dr. Pasteur's ideas that to a man they
refused to look through his microscope, since they were certain such things
couldn't exist.

       In the 20th century, when the chap who discovered penicillin started
telling people that strains of mold found in some breads were capable of
killing off the bacillus that caused pneumonia and syphilis, he was
practically invited to spend some time in an insane asylum with yours truly.

       Well, a lot of people died of pneumonia, blood poisoning and syphilis
before it became popular in the minds of some folks to inject bread mold into
the bodies of human beings; and even to this day, when you know what
penicillin is made from and other effective antibiotics, sounds like
witch-doctoring.

     Meanwhile, back to the service facsimile.  So the theory goes, the basic
service facsimile is the one in which someone decides to be human; and you
could say that there are many other lesser service facsimiles that extend
into the person's life after that, but that's the granddaddy.

      Now although I'm not advising it, if you rescind the decision to be
human, or if you get some other poor soul to do that, you will experimentally
have a chance to observe just who or what something was before it decided to
be human.  I recommend at that point that you have something between you and
what will result that's at least the equivalent of the shielding needed to
remain alive near an atomic reactor.

       But later up the line, in much safer country, you can use the basic
notion that "a service facsimile puts in place something else as a substitute
for self" to help someone get a lot closer to their own true essence, and in
one sense at least recover from the automaticity of making others wrong,
seeking to harm the survival of others, and seeking to gain domination over
others.

      You can also, along the way, find fixed ideas or even groups of fixed
ideas that make it impossible for a person to think clearly in present time
about something, impossible to confront that something, and of course great
difficulty in perceiving it.

      So one of the marvelous things that come from relieving an individual
of a number of service facsimiles is the restoration of clear perception, as
well as a chance to observe the enormous numbers of excuses we feed ourselves
and others to explain our numerous failures across the dynamics.  This is
certainly a tech that really handles the feeling of being a victim, and the
need to blame things or others for one's condition.

      If you really can get a guy to cough up the entities, real or imagined,
and other things that he surrounds himself with that remain as fixed
repositories of service facsimile computations, the result will be
spectacular.  But at the short term, if you just relieve the guy of the most
strident, demanding and chronic entities and their service facsimile, you'll
end up with somebody in a beautiful condition for enjoying life and the
postulates that put one into the position to perceive it.  QED -- and thanks!

        And PS -- the big Year 2000 Service Facsimile Contest is now open
officially, and I would consider it a wonderful opportunity for everyone on
the IVy list to come up with one or more of their better service facsimiles
and openly send them in to the contest.  No telling what will come of this
exercise, but remember, the prizes are wonderful, and the decisions of the
judges may or may not be final.