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I think everybody should crank call these assholes. Go ahead have 6 beers and a hooter and go nuts. Better yet we should let the guy from Longmont Potion Castle call them. They might cancel each other out. Start faxing poor quality collages of David Koresh being sodomized by the devil and Chuck Manson.

I lived at JPUSA for a year, and I don't think it's a cult by any means.

Thanks to living there, I was able to meet Steve during Ballydowse's recording sessions with him.

But yeah, that group in AZ definitely seems like a cult.

can someone cut and paste the text here?


thanks.

"A Fucking Cult?": A faithful account of Nina Nastasia and The Cape May's run in with the Aquarians of Sedona.

By Jeff Macleod



On September 28 we gained admittance into the inner sanctum of a cult: Gabriel of Sedona's Aquarian Concepts Community. This show was thrown together at the last minute, and we've been really nervous about it with all the stipulations to play there, (men and women sleep in different areas, no smoking, no profanity, no drugs or drinking, no promoting sexual preference, and monetary penalties for not sleeping on the compound or being late to sound check) but we were unsure what to do about it at this point and went anyway. It turned out even crazier than we could have imagined. We thought that maybe they were serious Christians or Scientologists, but it turned out much more unsettling.
We arrive at Future Studios, the venue, and the first thing is the meeting with the "engineers". Kennan goes in by himself and runs immediatly back out to the car. Clearly in hysterics and choking back tears, he discloses no information, only uttering a warning not to laugh when they introduce themselves. "Their names...their names," he whispers. "Introduce yourselves." So we all go in, and if I didn't have warning about this, I would have cracked up laughing: Mycenay, Kazarian, Fane, Mastocene, Salzaran, even a kid named Cauldron... and too many others to count. Anyway, they were mostly long-haired males with sweat pants on. The place was all cosmic and futuristic on the inside with all kinds of products for sale from their religion, but the weird thing was that all over the walls were big posters: Yoda, Braveheart, Ghandi, Rocky and Ani Difranco mixed in with paintings of sages armed with lasers on spatial planes. What a clownish thing to do to your disciples, mix in pop culture to fuck with their heads.

I read a plaque on the bathroom wall explaining the whole thing. Apparently, these people are from the "5 million seed" and believe that they are lost "seeds", and eventually they will find their genuine universes. They are super humans, with above average intelligence, skill and talent, and their leader Gabriel is the first and greatest elder. We're immediatly apprehensive about this whole gig. The wild thing is that the place had the nicest board/gear of any club I've ever been in in my life. It was like a million dollar set up.

Fast forward to after the sound check: The sun is setting, and we follow them into their smaller of two compounds, which is essentially a mansion on a couple acres of land, with trailers and sheds all over the place. We walk in and meet a few more Mezaganondria's, and Shalazar's - mostly women now, wavy-haired, wearing sandals and maternity-type dresses - and they take us to the feast. We sit down at a long, low picnic table in their living room to veggies from their garden, home-made pasta and bread, organic salad, and home-made tea and cake. It's a beautiful spread but I'm a little nervous about the possibility of poison in the food, so I wait until one of their elders digs in before I eat. The food is great, but I have this sort of sick feeling in my stomache about the whole thing. I feel like I have to, so I ask Kazarian how he got his name. He says they are presented to the members of the "community" after their personality has been defined and their goals introduced for them. Kazarian means, "artistically inclined"...in what language, I have no idea. Kazarian is a nice, gentle guy, with doey eyes and the beard of a conquistador. We'd all felt a little sorry for him from the get go. Frumpy, middle-aged, ex-sax player Fane is also at the table. He has a flower shirt, tearaway pants and the squint of a pervert. The other thing is that there's this silver-haired Australian babe who Kennan romantized busting out with us and becoming our slave...oops! Haha, just kidding. Anyway, we all eat sheepishly, trying to read each other's minds. It's clearly weird, but mostly funny up to this point. Kennan disappears early from the table to get something out of the van, and we spend the next fifteen minutes in awkward conversation...mostly silence.

Time for a history lesson: Aquarian Concepts Community: Ok, they have a bible called "The Five Epochal Revelations On Urantia (revelatory truths gifted to our planet through the function of celestial spiritual beings)". They believe that these five revelations are "from divine sources designed for upliftment of an entire planet, in this case, Earth, or Urantia".

And so it goes...

"The First was inaugurated 500,000 yrs ago when our new planetary prince, Caligastia, arrived with his staff of celestial beings and 100 ascendant citizens and established Planetary Sacred Headquarters on land that is now under the persian gulf. For 300,000 yrs they worked on advancing and evolving the races on Urantia. There was a Lucifer Rebellion, Satan being one of the sons in charge of advancing humans, about 200,000 yrs ago in the System of Satania. This caused world-wide confusion, and robbed us of mortal assistance which a well ordered society would have provided. The Second Epochal Revelation began with the arrival of Adam and Eve at system headquarters with the intention of genetically and otherwise uplifting the human races. This was a double deprivation after their fall from grace, because we never achieved a superior type of physical nature. The Third Epochal Revelation was 4,000 yrs ago at the time of Abraham, with the arrival in the likeness of mortal flesh of Machiventa Melchizedek as an emergency son. He carried out his mission of one God in Salem (Now Jerusalem). The Fourth Epochal Revelation was fulfilled by Jesus, the Christ, who was in reality Christ Michael, Creator Son of this universe of Nebadon. Jesus revealed the fatherhood of God," blah blah blah. "The Fifth Epochal Revelation. The Urantia book is the first one-tenth of this fifth revelation. Preparations were made for its release in 1906-1911 and contents were brought in over the years, and in 1989 Continuing Fifth Epochal Revelation began after several years of establishing contact with Gabriel of Sedona and is now being published in a series of volumes under the title The Cosmic Family. It dealt with the shift of our planet from the third to the fourth dimension and into the first stage of light and life." Also God is known as the Thought Adjustor, and soon we will be part of 1,000 habitable planets."

A nice round number. So, there's the synopsis.

After the dinner I run into Kennan outside and he says to me, "Hey Jeff can you show me on the map what way you meant to go tomorrow?" I'm confused because piano-Kevin is the map-guy and we have a GPS, but I know something's up, so I follow him into the van. He closes the door and tells me to "smile and talk quietly." "Dude, I think we're in some trouble here. This is not the fun-loving, family-happy cult we though it was, it's a fuck people out of their inheritances and break up their families cult!" Apparently he went on the internet and looked the up ..Aquarian Concepts Community' and some very David Koreshy shit came up. He found some investigative articles about the cult and they talk about how this "Gabriel" guy believes he is a messiah, and that he is infallible so all of his members must do everything in their power to please him. Jesus, all this is happening, while just outside, members of the ponytail posse are sniffing around the van, casually glancing in the windows to check on us. We start to sweat. The articles go on to explain that only Gabriel - his real name is Gordon Michael Scallion - can make decisions concerning the group (of about 100 people) and that he controls all the money. Entry into the group can only be hastened if you have an inheritance coming, or if you're rich; however, all money or inheritance must be turned over to Gabriel, and is his property upon entry into the cult. Even if you get your senses back and want your money, he won't give it to you. Even after gaining access to the cult and giving Gabriel your inheritance, he's reserved the right to kick anyone out at anytime and keep their money. Oh, and Gabriel is not afraid to work with lawyers if there is any chance of his losing any piece of his precious-strangers' inheritances. He also chooses who stays with whom and what couples are allowed to pair up. At Gabriel's discretion couple's can be broken up and moved around. Also, he doesn't care about blood relations. Families can be broken up, and even a mother may not see their child for months after its birth if Gabriel so wishes. Needless to say, we read this, freak the fuck out, and wondered what arsenal of weapons these weird fuckers might be keeping in those sheds. We go back into the house to get the other guys, meeting a few more Balzarians, Xanzadus, and Fangorias on the way. It was becoming more and more apparent that they didn't want us to be left alone too long.

A few minutes later, everyone piles into the van to head to the show. Kevin reads the article to everyone else in the band as we follow the wizard convoy back to the venue. This was the moment when Nina began to feel queasy about doing the show. She didn't feel right about making money for a cult. During the drive I mentally catalogue the way from the house in case of the need of a hasty escape. I also remind everyone in the van that I'm the getaway driver and to follow the same seating arrangement if we need to speed off. We're clearly freaked out, we're all giggling, but giggling uneasily. Someone says we should probably pull out, but somebody points out that we've now left our bags back at the compound! A panicked debate ensues as the club appears around the corner. Two thin-faced cronies in safety-orange vests are signalling us into our parking spot with air-traffic controller flashlights. Fuck, we hadn't reached a decision and now we were caught in the tractor beam.

Remember now, this all actually happened.

Upon pulling into the space, our headlights reveal another huge gaggle of leering long-hairs all over the place, leaning up against the wall. But the parking lot is completely empty. Our hearts start to pound. Everyone in the back seat is talking at once. Kennan shushes us, takes a deep breath, and exits the van. Guts. He walks past the table set up outside where the acolytes are peddling their paperbacks with strange symbols, pewter medallions, incense and bags of chips. Kazarian meets Kennan at the door with a witchy female member we hadn't met yet. Kennan can't remember her name, but it was something like Bezeria or Bezyldyzene. She has stringy black hair, a wizened face and ridiculously long arms. She ended up being the conduit between us and the elders back at the mother ship. Kennan's goal is to find a private room for us to have another discussion about what to do, so he asks Kazarian if there's a green room. Kazarian then leads him into their high-tech recording studio to talk in private, and I follow. I was discrete about my intentions to eavesdrop, pretending to be examining the gear, but I got the goods.

Kennan tells Kazarian that Nina doesn't want them to photograph or tape our show, and that they had to put the cameras and audio machines away. Nina had commented earlier in the day that there was no fucking way she was having her picture taken just so Gabriel could put it up next to his collection of photos of himself sitting in the middle of various tribal musicians and world music players and again, Ani Difranco. (Picture a fat, long grey haired-goateed guy in a flowery moo moo, with a bow staff, a guitar and a sort of ..come-hither' look in his eyes.)

Kazarian explains to Kennan that it is written in the contract that any open seats available by show time are offered to the "volunteers" who work in the community. Kennan stiffens up hearing this information and asks Kazarian how many have actually paid for the show. There's a long pause before Kennan jokingly mutters "Three?" Kazarian uncomfortably replies, "Well, yes three, but... maybe more at the door - actually I'm not sure. I'll ask [Bzrielz?]."

Uh oh. Three paying customers, yet there was like fifty people sitting in the theatre. "What about the fifty people sitting in the theatre?" "They're community members," replies Kazarian. "Community members. Right." Kennan swallows hard and says he needs to talk to Nina. He heads for the van. I momentarily part ways with Kennan and run into Clint and Matty outside, trying to act natural around the gathering mob. We discuss our current predicament thourgh the sides of our mouths. "Three people paid? Well where the fuck did the fifty people come from?" questions Clint. I explain.

Back in the van, Kennan, Nina, Flegel and Kevin are pretending to go over their set lists, while the venue is filling up. Outside the others stand staring at the van shifting from side to side, meanwhile the van crew is whispering through smiles about how fucked up the situation is. At that point they were afraid that if we cancelled, the cult might make it hard for us to get our shit, and none of them were even sure if they knew their way back to the compound. So they're making up their minds that they have no choice but to play the show when just then Clint opens the side door and says "This is bullshit. Fuck this place." Just what we needed, a quick burst of sanity. We leave the van to tell Kazarian that the show's off. But when we get back into the theatre the seats are full, and Kazarian is standing onstage. He was about to introduce the band. Fuck. Kennan mumbles to Clint, "I think we're too late." Kazarian , continues, "Everyone please peruse the merch table," which he indicates. And then an arm comes out from the darkness and flicks on a giant glowing space-vortex astral poster illuminating our records - alien God worship in blue lights. No fucking way we were doing this show. "And now introducing, a special treat, all the way from Calgary, Canada, ladies and gentlemen...The Cape May." A roar of applause from the pews as Clint walks up to the pulpit, his finger in the air, as if to say, "Errr...hold that thought."

By the way. This really happened. Ok, Kazarian comes to the side of the stage. Clint mumbles something to him and heads back towards us. Kazarian addressed the crowd, "Actually folks, the band have had a slight change of agenda. It'll just be a few minutes. Could we get some house music please?"

The heat was on. Kazarian and the witchy knuckle-dragger lady Belzezarron or whatever follows Clint out to the lot with us, and Clint voices his concerns with the situation. Our arguments go from the overpriced ticket in a place Nina's never played to the lack of a guarantee and having to play to their "volunteers" for free. But the real reason we were reticent about was nobody in this band was comfortable doing business with a cult. Anyway, five people ended up paying the 18 dollar cover, and Gabriel gets almost half? Fuck that noise. Knuckles ends up not having the authority to deal with our rumblings, so she puts us on the blower with Mycenay, an elder/promoter who had been called away earlier by Gabriel and was unable to attend our show.

Kennan: "Well, frustrated...No, I mean, we're not comfortable playing to a room full of people who didn't pay... Well, they might be, but we're not ..volunteers'... You know, why don't you just refund those people and we'll take off...What? I never signed a contract... What do you mean, ..there to support us'? We don't need the vote of confidence, we need the money. It cost us hundreds of dollars just to get here, we're not surviving on applause... If they don't get paid, who gets the money you charge us if we're late? Well, you may look at it like you guys are supporting us, but as I see it we're performing free for you and your members... Who are all these people?...Ok then, how about you just give us the door and we play for your community for free?" - [this way we wouldn't be making money for "Gabriel"]- "... Well, you talk to Gordon or whatever and get back to me..."

Hangs up. Calls back.

"I didn't sign a contract... The ..world-wide web'? Whatever. Great. We can all post something.

Effectively we were being exploited and putting on a free show to other people who were being exploited by some fat rich guru guy. We weren't going to play if money from the show was helping to fund something that is so clearly morally corrupt. We told Kazarian the show was off.

Kazarian goes back to address the murmuring crowd. We don't know what he says, but there's lots of applause. Afterwards the sheep of Gabriel shuffle out of the theatre back toward mission control where Nina, Kevin and I are hurriedly picking up the remaining bags. We luckily and anxiously find the place in the dark - there was a great image of Nina rolling her suitcase across a loud tile floor in front of a kitchen full of portly, brooding harem wives. Some sad kid even offered to help her. Let's call him Rolodex.

Meanwhile Flegel and Clint are doing a speed load back at the theatre. As the venue empties out, Kennan spots an old friend of his - one of five paid guests - among the crowd of converts now skulking around the parking lot like grinning jackals. He informed us that many people never go to this place, even though it has amazing sound, because the town is freaked out by the cult, and that there are groups trying to stop them.

Nina, Kevin and I rolled back up with our bags packed while the other three sat huddled with the gear in the parking lot trying to avoid the shifty stares all around them. A silent speed load of the van, one furtive look at the circling mob, and we were out of there. We felt bad for Kazarian. He gave us a longing goodbye. We wanted to save him, he was so decent, but what could we do? It's not like we were gonna let a guy named Kazarian in our van.

We had all our shit and rolled off into the night away from Gabriel's minions. We reached a campground about thirty miles down the road and pitched our tent on a ledge along Beaver Creek. The ranger warned us that we'd set up next to a rattlesnake's nest and that there were many skunks about. Somehow we were unfazed. We lit a fire and sat there in the dark looking up at the stars.

reminds me of my childhood

dlayphoto wrote:I lived at JPUSA for a year, and I don't think it's a cult by any means.

After the service, watching the all the people, mostly young, walk in a line from the "church" over to their dorm building, because they aren't allowed to venture out into the outside world without a watcher, that sure smacked of cult. When were you there? Did they let you go out into the city by yourself whenever you wanted?

It was a 'guideline' that I didn't go out without a 'buddy', but I used to go out by myself all the time.

I went to shows by myself, Reckless Records, etc. No one ever said anything to me.

Holy bejeezus! Those cult stories are fascinating yet hit a little too close to home. I had many experiences with the crazy jesus loving fundamental evangelicals growing up in Montana (fundamentals are a cult, yes). It's all just another form of brain washing, albeit a more accepted form in these United States. I remember going to camps as a kid where teens "spoke in tongues" and got "slain in the spirit"...it's some massively delusional shit. Especially when they start praying over you to get rid of some spirit of masturbation or some other nonesense....I guess I looked like an avid masturbator..? The fundamental parents love this stuff, cus they think it is going to make their kids into perfect little citizens. It's all about control.

beelzebubbles wrote:some spirit of masturbation.

i'd see this band

OK what is JPUSA? is it like Jesus Camp?