Golden era productions

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Now, oddly enough, you can't run that as a process. It would be the key process but you can't run it as a process. "Is it all right for that wall to survive?" "Is it all right for you to have facsimiles that survive?"

Well, it's not because you eat everything up that you look at—a lot of people believe that. They believe a facsimile dies because they look at it and they have the power of as-ising it. It's not because of that. It's because of something else. That if they don't create-create-create, it ain't. You see that?

If you stand still—if you could actually stand totally still and gaze totally at that wall and in no way contribute to it, you understand, you'd very shortly have no wall. See, this is the ne plus ultra.

Well then, a person thought it was because he was doing something to the wall or because his look was "acidous" that the wall disappeared. That wasn't so. He just stopped contributing. All you have to do is stop contributing anyplace and you get a vanishment.

So as he looks at the wall, he's got to contribute to it a little bit. You've got to hold it there. And nearly every thetan there is, is dramatizing this.

He has to hold his aberrations in place in order to inspect them; he has to keep adding to them in order to look at them. But he does this on such a "left hand mustn't know what the right hand is doing," and his irresponsibility for it is such that he can actually keep aberrations in place. That is the marvel.

In insanity, if you start hitting a button with the materials you have right now, you will see some insanities just fold up—just (snap) bang. And you'll say, "Where'd they go?" Well, think of the tremendous effort it must have been to hold them there. Actually, they're such an unnatural condition, they crack up fast. It's also true of a psychosomatic illness. It's such an unnatural condition that it is easily broken up if you just know the button. Why? Because he has to contribute to it to have it. Do you see this? All right.

Then there were these two directions: Either the thetan's total goal is to have nothing and everything be as he is (because he does not have mass or energy or space or time), or it was all right to have some things survive. But there was no process when we found out, finally, that it was all right to have things survive.

So we found this—I found this was all right with everybody; I found this was the one thing which made them go on ticking, the one thing which made them capable in any way, which made them happy—was it had to be all right for some things to survive. But how do you run it?

Now, we could think of a lot of ways of running it, but every process there is that is a good process must obey several little rules, and one of them is this—one of them is this: Does it increase havingness?

So you ask somebody, "Is it all right if that wall survives? Is it all right if the table survives?"

And he says, "Yes." And he looks at it for a moment, see, without contributing to it.

"Is it all right for this chair to survive? Is it all right for this ashtray to survive? Is it all right for that door to survive?" He looks at it for just a moment, you see, without contributing to it. He puts the survival on it when he is the author of it. You do that very long and his havingness goes zzzzt— nothing.

In other words, the process itself just runs him out the bottom fast, although it's the perfect process. You get the idea? It's the perfect process that won't work. That's the trouble with nearly every perfect process. It's only

THE KEY PROCESSES OF CLEARING

perfect theoretically. In practical application it's nonfunctional, which makes a sort of a liar out of the whole thing. In other words, you have to have another process and there have to be some other ingredients to get any gain for a case. All right.

So it was all right to have things succumb. Well, was anything really dangerous to a thetan? Yes, having nothing—having nothing, no interest, nothing to do, no place to go, no problems to solve—nothing. Interesting, isn't it, that there was a direction he could go that he better not go, and that was the direction of nowhere. Nowhere and nothing. The motto of a thetan: "Anything is better than nothing," according to a thetan. That's his motto. "Anything is better than nothing."

Well, he gets so afraid of having nothing that he makes it, and you get a destruction. But even destruction is still having something because you can alter-is debris and help it to persist. And his ideas of what he actually can have downgrade to a point where he says, "Well, I can have it if it's broken up and twisted up and nobody else wants it. Then I will be able to have it. So the thing to do is to destroy everything down to this level, and "Us Hitlers and Mussolinis and Stalins and so forth, if we just mess things up enough, nobody else will want them and we'll have something." You get the idea? It's a very, very degraded state. But destroy, oddly enough, is still a method of having. Fantastic. It is also a case of "who would want it?" But it is still a method of having. Very, very low on the scale.

Any civilized peoples eventually come to some sort of an attitude toward soldiers. Maybe early in their career or something like that, when they can afford a lot of destruction, they say, "Well, soldiers are fine." Then they get to a point of where the Chinese got to when I knew them and they say, "Well, horrible diseases, locusts and soldiers"—data of comparable magnitude. Fascinating, fascinating. Dedication to destruction. Well, you can only afford dedication to some destruction when you have tremendous havingness.

If you've got a thousand sets of glasses and you don't consider them very valuable and you break one, why, you say, "So what." But have just one glass left of one set that was owned by your great-grandmother, and you thought was very pretty, and break it and see how you feel. You get the idea?

So that when individual possession drops low, then destructive agencies lose face. They lose face. And you get the soldier losing caste. You get other agencies of destruction losing caste. And you get more and more concentration on "Let's preserve it." Greater and greater concentration on "Let's preserve it"; greater and greater disgust by the general populace for destructive agencies.

And by the way, with a whole world crowded up so everybody is wearing on everybody else's elbows compared to what it was a few thousand years ago—actually I think Houston now has about seven or eight times more people in it than Rome, or maybe it's twenty or thirty times more people than Rome (you know Texas). With everybody rubbing on everybody else's elbows, how would you like to be the fellow that's standing there with the bomb that would destroy everything? Do you think you'd be popular?

No, you wouldn't be popular even if you had butterfingers and kept dropping hostesses' cups and saucers. There was a time when no host or hostess would have thought very much if you dropped a saucer or two at a party. Well, they think so today. As a matter of fact, you're liable never to be invited again.

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Now, the people are getting anxious about this point of survival. Per person, there is evidently less to have. The cities are more crowded. The countryside is less yours, don't you see? You try to make it up in cumbersome possessions like cars and junk, one kind or another.

Now, individual then starts to pull it all in to his chest, doesn't he? He starts to pull in as his survival goes down. Then he becomes more and more anxious—the survival of things. He wants it in where he can inspect them closely, get the idea?

He'll use tricks in order to get something to survive. He's no longer relaxed. Why? Because he isn't permitted to contribute to stuff that's way out there. He can't see worlds, he can't see great green fields. And these things are not his anymore, and he can't contribute to those things anymore, and so he gets stuff in close. You find model railroads and that sort of thing.

Even when I was a kid I often used to wonder why kids played with trains because I used to go down and play with my trains. You know, they were man-sized trains, they were real trains. Brakeman never came along and told me, "Little boy, you're liable to slip and get your foot underneath the car and cut your foot off," and horrible stories, horrible stories. They never said that. They'd say, "Whatcha doing on top of the car? Come on in the caboose."

I quite regularly would ride up to a small switching town just outside of the place where I was and ride back again in the matter of a summer's day. It was interesting that nobody was trying to deny me trains or kick me off, and I wasn't very old. It was perfectly fine.

Now, what do you have to do to have a train? You go down here in the B&O yards and you'll find all the brakemen down there are running a can't-have on you about trains. They've got trains pulled in to their chests, if you can imagine it.

Also, trains are getting scarce. We're told down here in an investigation— investigation and the public relations activity are the same thing in the Senate —and the railroad boys down there were saying that unless the government did something and took things off the back of their neck, why, they'd have to give up their railroads. They'd have to turn them over to the government because they could no longer run railroads with the government aiding and abetting all the railroads' competitors and refusing to let the railroads earn a living.

Well, however this was going, here was the government running a can't-have on the railroads. Railroads didn't realize the government is its own business and its own organization, has its own mest and hasn't anything to do with the rest of us. By golly, they were still under the belief the government had something to do with the railroads, you see?

And the railroads actually were trying to pull the railroads in to their chest. And the government was just trying to pull what it had—not even railroads — in to its chest. They're both anxious about havingness, you see? And as a net result, if you went down here in a—the B&O yard, why, and tried to walk through a couple of freight cars, you'd probably get a nightstick wrapped around your skull. It would not be smiled upon, that's for sure. In other words, you can't have those railroads. You can buy one if you buy a ticket and it's all in good order and so forth, but things aren't that way anymore.

Now, after a while they'll get down so low, they'll start abandoning. See, here was the railroads trying to abandon the railroads to the government. Well, they'll get down to an abandonment point where there's nobody around

THE KEY PROCESSES OF CLEARING

and everybody can walk off with the equipment and nobody owns it. The equipment is still there but it can't be observed. You see the points which are being followed here?

At first there's lots of havingness. There's lots of things you can contribute to, so then, therefore, there are lots of things you can have. And then people get anxious about this because there are too many people to have these things. Somebody gets anxious about it—destruction, things like this come up—and we get down on a little bit lower plane. And we get the idea of individuals who have to have these things. They have to have their stamps all over them, you see, and they have to have barbed-wire fences built around their possessions. You see? And then we go down a little bit lower and we find these—even these individuals are starting to throw things away. And the final thing comes out—simultaneously with arriving at "only one" on the Tone Scale (I mean, on the dynamics) — simultaneously with arriving at "only one" on the dynamics, we arrive at the same time at destruction of everything.

But a destruction is a final effort to have. Now, that sounds real funny. But you could have Hitler sitting there with a Germany he hadn't even bothered to put back together again and racing all around Europe to have something. The guy was nuts. Wasn't he?

Audience: Yes. Mm-hm.

The one smart thing for him to have done was to consolidate a Germany that was in shreds. He hadn't begun to put Germany back together again. He hadn't given the people the light car he promised, he hadn't built any autobahns, he hadn't seen that his structures and manufactories were up to standard, he hadn't vaguely entered into the field of foreign trade the way he should have.

Yet he was in possession of the world's chemical production. See, he had the most of it there. He had a tremendously well worked out espionage trade system which was hand in glove—espionage and trade, side by side. He could control trades one way or the other. He frankly was on the road to having everything anybody could have dreamed of in Germany—a prosperous country—and he took the rest of Europe. Well, what did he want with the rest of Europe? And, well, he obviously couldn't have the rest of Europe because the next thing you know, he declared war—and this was his final insanity—on England.

He shouldn't have done that. That was real stupid of him. Because he didn't yet have a Europe consolidated. His SS boys were still blowing their brains out trying to get enough people killed so they could have law and order. You know, I never figured out how they figured that out, but they did.

Well, they didn't have Europe, and here they were trying to bite off Russia, England, other countries—wow! And what were they doing biting off Europe when they hadn't yet had Germany? And I don't believe if you'd asked Mr. Hitler, "What part of that body could you have?"—I don't believe he could have answered you within a couple or eight or ten hours of comm lag. Because, brother, he didn't have anything up close anymore. You see this? He wound it all up in destruction, and I guess he could have that but he's not around to enjoy it as such. He's probably flubbed it, and he's probably shoveling coal up in the Polish mines or something now.

He's a very fine example of somebody who had to destroy in order to get that much alter-isness, so he could at least have some debris. And the rest of the world thought he was trying to have Germany, thought he was trying to have Europe, thought he was trying to have Russia, England, do you see? The

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rest of the world thought he was trying to have something. And they were right, but they never knew this: He was only trying to have debris.

So they would give the man respect. He shouldn't have even had the respect of his own people. See, he wanted debris, that was the only thing he could have. He couldn't have had a single manufactured product of any kind.

Well, all right, this Help thing parallels all this I've been talking about here. It parallels this scale, and as you run Help on people, you see this scale for the first time with great rapidity in any one case. This Help button run in brackets will run up the gamut.

Now, all you will see if you're observing very poorly is that it runs from Destroy up to Help. The answers will be: "All right, how could you help yourself?" and the fellow will say, "Destructiveness, destructiveness." And you'll say, "How could you help yourself?" "Destructiveness, destructiveness."

After you've asked him the question twenty times, why, he may get the first one where he says, "Well, I could help myself." And he gives you a method of helping himself, you get the idea? But in the space of about twenty questions, he'll run out of the destroy and into the help. Well, it's one of the fastest processes you ever looked at.

And it's tricky that it runs at all. Funny part of it is, you are not inventing methods of help. Notice the type of process it is. You're actually as-ising old postulates, more than anything else. Now, you shouldn't have your preclear looking for old postulates. You don't care whether he invents new ones or old ones, but you're running the significance out of the case. That's what you're doing. You're actually running significance out of the case.

Now, you don't care what the significance is, but it just happens that it approximates these havingness scales and it goes from the bottom on up the line. You'll run up through destroy, and you'll generally, on any button or any dynamic, get yourself a few destructive replies.

And they're liable to go by harmonics. You're liable to get propitiation, destruction, help. First answer—you should be alarmed at this because you won't find it very often: First answer on, "How could you help another person?"

"Well, I could buy him a yacht."

Well, that's perfectly all right, but you as an auditor should well apprehend that about five or ten questions later the response is liable to be something like this: "How could I help another person?"

"Yes, I repeat the auditing command. How could you help another person?"

"Well, I could take a small knife and I could peel off all of his skin, an inch at a time."

You'll see this thing running through these harmonics. The fellow goes through—instead of contribute, he's got propitiate. See? Way down low.

And then he comes up to being covertly destroying, and then he runs up into "destroy hell out of," and then he runs out, "Well, we'll destroy it but we might let some of it live." And then we run on up and we finally get into help. And then we get a gradient scale of help.

Now, we're actually as-ising postulates and significances, and we are not handling mass, which is quite remarkable because it's a significance process. And we thought that there was no possibility of a significance process ever working, and suddenly here's a significance process that works. Wild, isn't it? All right.

THE KEY PROCESSES OF CLEARING

Now, that's one process. But remember, there was a common denominator of all these stages of survive and mass, and that was keep or have. See? Now, the common denominator is not "throw it away." That is an unreal, an unnatural action—it is over here on this succumb side. You see, we already decided that havingness was okay. Well, not-havingness is not okay. See? It sounds so—so blunt. It's so true, though. To get rid of things, to sweep things out, to break things up. These things are never all right casewise.

You can often afford them. You can recover from them. In the natural course of thetan events, you'd better not try to keep everything you've got because it'll bury you someday. You get the idea?

But it is never, casewise, all right to run a process that throws things away. You see that? It's just never all right. That's it. I mean, it just never works. The more you throw things away or run destructive or pitch-it-out processes, why, the lower the case is going to go on an APA and IQ and the rest of it. I mean, just make up your mind to it.

The fellow's ambition is to get rid of, at once, everything he's got. "Well, fine," you say, "if you just approximated this as the mind goes, we just have it made."

Well, I'm probably the first investigator along this line that has cottoned to this and has not Qed-and-Aed with what everybody wanted. Everybody apparently wants to get rid of everything, when you finally start picking them up in mental health, see? They apparently do. You go along with that, boy, you've had it.

There is no process of "get rid of it" which can be safely run over any length of time at all. Even Dianetic engram erasure, for heaven's sakes, left you the energy without the significance. But let's take a look here at this and find out that the common denominator of therapeutic action is to keep it, which is to say contribute to it, which is to say survive. And you'll find all of those things working out on one single auditing command which is, "Keep it from going away."

"Keep it from going away" might mean continue it. It might mean hold it there mechanically, close to you. It might mean a lot of things, and therefore it should be cleared with the preclear quite often because it now means something else.

He'll do one thing with the command, he'll do another thing with the command. And if you tell him what the command means, why, you're being very foolish because the command is rigged to go one way and then the other way.

"Keep it from going away" might mean continue it. It might mean simply contribute to it. It might mean hold it from leaving the geographical position of the body. It might mean an awful lot of things, so you just better start clearing it.

I spotted one here last week where the command had not been cleared regularly. Because it can mean a lot of things and it is purposely a double-entendre. And if you ever run this into some other language, for heaven's sakes pick up something that's equally a double-entendre, you get the idea? It's a pun process. We don't care how he keeps it from going away.

Now, you get the idea of the fellow who—he can't have the green fields anymore, so he has to have possessions close up. He holds those possessions to him. That's one method of keeping things from going away, isn't it? Well, he'll take some of these possessions and he'll put them into glass jars, or