Showing posts with label Attack-dog syndrome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Attack-dog syndrome. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 May 2019

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part II

The story in his autobiographical novel Inferno of August Strindberg’s relationship with his ‘secret friend’ has few original elements; much of it is depressingly familiar, even when read for the first time.

While Inferno was an unexpected place to find independent confirmation of some of my ideas about games cult members play, I was not at all surprised to find yet another example of the ‘falling for a false image and going from worship to total disillusionment' syndrome or to see that Strindberg’s ‘friends’ usually turned into what he called false friends, faithless friends, former friends and enemies!

Feuding occultists are nothing new either.

Part I ended with the start of what Strindberg called a ‘paper war’, with Strindberg’s secret friend and benefactor revealing his true intentions and threatening to call on occult powers to force Strindberg to accept the theosophist Madame Blavatsky as his teacher.

So what did Strindberg do next?

Strindberg’s counter-threat
Strindberg’s response to the threat shows that the two men deserved each other! Like really does attract like.

Strindberg replied that he would call on occult powers of his own if the secret friend tried to interfere with his destiny! As a warning, he told his secret friend about what had happened ten years earlier to a man who tried to influence him against his will. This man sounds rather like the secret friend:

This man...in spite of his display of sympathy, was not really my well-wisher. An absolute tyrant, he wanted to interfere with my destiny, to tame and subdue me, in order to show me his superiority.

Same game, different player it seems. This man received some severe, family-related blows; Strindberg suggests that he brought this trouble on himself because he played with fire when he tried to interfere in Strindberg’s life.

The secret friend did not give up easily; he was not deterred by this implied threat.

Monday, 6 May 2019

Strindberg and his cult-pushing secret friend: Part I

Previous articles cover August Strindberg’s ‘friendships’ with the man he called the ‘Danish painter’ and with the ‘mystery man’; now it is time to look at Strindberg’s relationship with someone he called his ‘secret friend’.

Strindberg had a history of falling out with people and breaking off relationships. He tells us in Inferno that the Danish painter became his enemy and that he and the down-and-out mystery man cooled off and never saw or heard from each other again. Then there was the correspondence with Nietzsche that lasted for only a short time.

It is easy to deduce from this what would eventually happen in the case of the secret friend. According to Strindberg, this man turned not just from a friend into an enemy but from an angel into a demon! 

My guess is that the secret friend was a demon all along but for a while concealed his real nature behind a mask of benevolence.

This case is of interest not only because of what it says about Strindberg’s pattern of relationships and the sort of people he became involved with, but also because this secret friend behaved like a cult member. I was surprised to recognise in this story some elements previously featured in articles about cults. I detected the Sole Supplier Syndrome for example; the infuriating  Superiority Syndrome is much in evidence, and so is the dreaded Attack-dog Syndrome!

Strindberg’s ‘secret friend’
Stella Benson had her imaginary Secret Friends; Strindberg had someone he called his ‘secret friend’ who offered financial and other support, playing, as he said, “...a decisive rôle in my life as mentor, counsellor, comforter, judge, and, not least, as a reliable helper in various times of need.”

So why would this man do all that for someone he had never met? Did he have ulterior motives and a hidden agenda, or was he just a benefactor, a patron who recognised Strindberg’s talents and wanted to encourage and assist him?

The answer seems obvious to me: the secret friend cultivated the relationship with Strindberg because he was after something. I have highlighted some key statements that give the game away.

Tuesday, 18 September 2018

Elizabeth Goudge’s Linnets and Valerians: Part III

Some of the material in Elizabeth Goudge’s book Linnets and Valerian is related to topics featured in other articles. These articles were written long before I read this book, so it provides yet more independent confirmation of some of my ideas.

This article includes more connections to existing articles, with references to attack dogs, getting what we want, lions’ mouths and rowan trees.

The attack-dog syndrome
I noticed one very subtle and one very obvious example of the attack-dog syndrome, which has been covered elsewhere.

This is the subtle and mild example:

We are told that the vicar who preceded Uncle Ambrose was fond of the witch Emma Cobley and would never believe the stories told about her in the village.

We are not told anything more, but I would bet that he became annoyed and said something like, “How can you say these things about such a fine person?” Maybe he even sternly told them not to bear false witness!

Someone in his position should have taken the accusations very seriously; not doing so is a dead giveaway that something is very wrong. His reaction is a sign that the stories are probably true.

This is the obvious and potentially very serious example:

When the children first go into the village, they see an inn called The Bulldog. They learn from an old postcard that the inn formerly had a wonderful bird on its sign. They also learn that the inn is owned by some of Emma Cobley’s unpleasant associates.

The inn has a fierce bulldog on its swinging sign. A huge and ugly bulldog sits in the doorway and growls at the children.

Just like Emma Cobley’s cat, the bulldog grows to an enormous size and attacks the children. Emma and her associates are also involved in this attack, which the children brought on themselves by not obeying Emma’s orders to stay away from a particular area.

One of the gang later greets the children in a friendly way. Inflicting or attempting to inflict serious blows and injuries and expecting the victims to carry on as if nothing had happened is another game that people who are under evil influences play.

Everything changes for the better once Emma’s figurines have been burned. There are no more attacks, and Emma replaces the inn sign with a picture of a beautiful peregrine falcon.  

Friday, 1 June 2018

Cults, occultists and Stella Gibbons: Part II

Going through Stella Gibbons’s novel The Shadow of a Sorcerer in the light of what I have learned about cults, occultists, energy vampires and other relevant topics since I first read it has provided enough material for a whole series of articles.

I am particularly interested in the connections I can now see between some of the material in this book and material in previous articles about cults, very different books and very different people.

The first article introduced the two main characters and ended with a description of some of the harm Esmé Scarron had done by abusing his powers and knowledge.

The next topics to be covered are the dreadful effect that Scarron’s attempts to influence her have on his chosen disciple Meg Lambert and the cult leader/cult member aspect of their relationship.

Many of the unpleasant symptoms that Meg experiences are very familiar: they are typical of the negative effects that energy vampires and black occultists have on their victims.

The unbearably drab existence
Early on in the book, thinking about the delightful and exciting life that Scarron could offer her makes Meg’s life and future in England appear unendurably drab in comparison. It seems that there will be nothing for her back home but ordinary people and pastimes, ageing morons, a dull colourless existence with no beauty and no sense of romantic excitement and nothing to look forward to.

Many people have had a taste of this feeling, especially ambitious people of ability who feel trapped in a limiting environment and are desperate to escape from a godforsaken place full of deadbeat losers, but in Meg’s case there is something sinister at work.

Thursday, 17 May 2018

Cult members and the attack-dog syndrome

Here is yet another warning about what can happen when dealing with cult members.

They may automatically attack, with varying levels of viciousness, people who say or do something unacceptable to them, their ideology or their organisation. They may behave like attack dogs, sometimes just growling or snapping at people and sometimes going straight for the jugular.

I have already written about the phenomenon known as the attack-dog syndrome in this article, but want to add something to my original ideas and go into the topic more deeply and in greater detail.

Games, tricks and techniques
When cult members don’t want to talk about something or listen to what people are trying to tell them, they will use one or more of the standard techniques in their repertoire.

It is all automatic, and the goal is to silence people.

For example, cult members often avoid people who ask awkward questions and even cut off contact completely; they immediately change the subject when someone raises an unwelcome issue, ignoring what was said and talking very quickly about something else; they use robotic slogans and repeat official propaganda instead of having a real discussion; they use denial and dismissal to close the subject.

I have experienced all this for myself: “I am very busy”; “We must make sacrifices for the cause”; “They are lying”; “He is a traitor”; “You shouldn’t take any notice of these rumours” and much more of the same.

The use of these techniques demonstrates what sort of person the recipient is dealing with. An uncontrolled, on-the-level decent human being does not behave like this; people who habitually play these games may be prisoners and hostages. And what does the need to play them say about the cause and people that are being promoted and defended?

Monday, 25 July 2016

Robin Jarvis’s witchmaster Nathaniel Crozier: Part III

The return of Nathaniel Crozier
A Warlock in Whitby ended with the defeat and destruction of Nathaniel Crozier. He left two devastated people behind him: Jennet is shattered emotionally and Miss Boston physically.

The Whitby Child, the final book in the Whitby Witches trilogy, describes Crozier’s efforts to return from the dead. He has done a deal with an evil supernatural entity: he will be restored to life in return for Ben’s death.

Crozier uses his coven of witches to perform rituals and run his errands, which include more attempts to murder Ben. Jennet is drawn into the coven; Nathaniel has left her in such a bad state that she has no defences against their plots.

It all – eventually - ends well for most of the characters, but only after a lot of action, horrific incidents, suffering and supernatural intervention, both malign and benign.

Roselyn Crozier returns temporarily to get her revenge; Nathaniel Crozier is permanently destroyed. The members of his coven are released from his control to make whatever new lives they can for themselves. Miss Boston, who early in the story recovers from her stroke, cheats death a few more times but her life finally comes to an end. She is 93 years old, and she is no longer needed to defend the children.

The future for Jennet and Ben is very good: their parents are restored to life.

The only thing that Nathaniel Crozier ever did to make the world a better place was to (inadvertently) redeem the Gregsons. There is a happy ending for this couple, who continued to be good neighbours to Miss Boston while she was still alive. They repair the relationship with their estranged son. They go to visit him and see their grandchildren for the first time.

Perhaps a horrible experience is necessary before some people can see the light, appreciate and make the best of what they have and change for the better.

Sunday, 20 January 2013

Unseen Influences: the attack-dog syndrome

The Jimmy Savile case has been discussed in great depth on the David Icke Forum. Much of the information and many of the issues are outside my experience but I do remember speaking out about him many years ago, long before any criticisms and accusations were publicised. His eyes, his 'vibes', his irritating mannerisms and that cigar gave me very bad feelings. I think that if he had come into the room, I would have run out of it. 

When I said this to some people, I experienced a lot of hostility and was accused of being snobbish. I ignored them and stood by my views, although at the time they were just the result of a personal antipathy caused by what I sensed about him.

I remember seeing a TV programme made by someone whose father killed himself after losing the money he had invested in Bernie Madoff's Ponzi scheme. The son spoke to a New York financier who said that when she expressed some doubts after being asked her opinion of Madoff and his scheme in the early days, the negative reactions were such that from then on she just said that she didn't know anything about him. In other words, a potential threat had been silenced.

I have expressed doubts about certain new employees a few times, doubts based on what I sensed was lurking below the surface, only to be met with indifference or accusations of various ‘isms’ and, “How can you say such things about this fine person.” 

In every case I was right: these people did a lot of damage to the company.

This angry reaction is sometimes known as the attack-dog syndrome. “You don’t know what you are talking about” is another one of their favourite automatic weapons.

Sometimes the people who attack have a vested interest in destroying threats to their beliefs - cult members and multi-level marketing supporters are good examples of this - sometimes they have no reason at all to make outbursts intended to flatten someone. Perhaps they have been unconsciously conscripted into the war against whistle-blowers.

I have learned to trust my feelings and intuition. I take such attacks as a dead giveaway that there is something evil lurking in the background that feels threatened. I am wary of anyone who makes inappropriately vehement attacks: I see them as controlled puppets or temporarily possessed random mediums, people who are being used to silence potential enemies.

What does it say about a cause if supporters need to defend it in this way? What does it say about the people who make these attacks? 

They don't understand that they are giving themselves away, at least to those who understand this particular kind of unseen influence.