Gawd, it will take me until the weekend to even begin to think how on earth to respond to that plate of spaggetti.  (Sack the journo, for one...?)

For now: remember when creative arts were 'head trips'?  Sex 'just ego'?  Thinking 'not allowed'?  Mind, the forbidden zone...?

The (very nice) lady in the photo and her (surely to this day, no less delightful) husband, were more than a little instrumental in inculcating those mad beliefs into my desperately unhappy young head some twenty-seven years ago.  But I can forgive that.  I played my part in indoctrinating a few others after me - not too many, I hope...

The saddest thing for me is that the she and he in question are possibly no less mind-warped now as they were then.  Which is a shame, because I liked them - and so, I imagine, would anyone who met them. 

But how can anyone present the new-model, user-friendly 'prem rawat foundation' spiel, whilst doing creative arts when they used blab to Allan Sundry about lord of the universe, being here and now, come to this planet, our one and only deliverance and so forth, darshan, grace, the full monty, more powers than ever before, feed the whole world, unbelievable-therefore-believable palaver...  I can only imagine that, on some secret level, Dorri and Graham must still trust that Gu-ji is God, otherwise how could anyone sustain that level of loyalty over so many years?

(If you're reading this D & G - as I suspect you might be - feel free to email me. n.longhurst@merseymail.com .  I'm more opinionated these days, but I don't bite...)

Cheers,
Nige