Sunday, June 26, 2005

If You Don't Believe In Scientology, You Need Your Head Examined

A special, guest editorial, by Tom Cruise

Tom Cruise
Guest Columnist

I just gotta shout it from the mountain tops: "Scientology! Scientology! Scientology!"

Whew. That felt good. And all without the help of Lucy In The Sky, Mr. Brownstone, or a pharmacological realignment of Maslow's hierarchy of Needs.

Oxycontin? Get that stuff away from me! I ain't got time to take a fast train.

Maybe you saw me try to put Matt Lauer in a full Nelson the other day. That guy has no idea what life would be like if he would just step up to the Dianetics plate and learn to deal--it's just Katie Couric--not Leviathan.

I look all around me and see my Hollywood comrades, all hung out in the town square with their therapist's approval, trying to erase the bitter stains of personal failure. Well I say "knock it off," Mary Kate and Ashley! Pick up a fork and put down that Karl Jung book you're reading. Soup's on, girls!

Really, the essence of any religion finds it’s voice in the personal testimony of its adherents, and Scientology is no different. Let me wax with you for a moment, and open my heart for all to see.

I was once an arrogant, self-serving troubadour of the Studio 54 quality, when I realized my life was empty. Empty empty empty. So empty that my empty meter atrophied and broke. Life became particularly awful for me when I realized that Dustin Hoffman couldn’t really count cards at the Blackjack table.

Then, my marriage failed. Many, many Hollywood marriages are tested in the wake of one spouse’s filming of steamy, R-rated scenes with other people. But when Nicole and I saw each other with each other in Eyes Wide Shut, it became the final straw that broke the proverbial Camel’s Back.

Proverbial PETA was also upset. They need to take a figurative chill pill.

So I crept back into the warm, safe haven of Scientology. So today, I can say that without drugs or psychological counseling, I am engaged to a big fan of Dora The Explorer, and can break into unexpected, Richter-scale quality oscillations in public.

I'm not gay.

Thank you for your time.

Thomas Mapother Cruise IV,
writing from the playground of Katie's school

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