Allegory of Scientology

On a bridge leading to a castle covered in snow I met a man who introduced himself as a Scientologist. – You certainly don’t look like a Scientologist, I told him. He was wrapped in thick furs, and had a weather-beaten face. – This is the Castle of Hope, he said, drawing a thin piece of wire from his coat. If you try to go on, I will slip this wire around your neck and strangle you. – Well then I’ll leave, I told him. – No, he said. If you turn around and leave I have been instructed to do the same thing. – So what am I to do? I asked. – That’s your choice, he said. It was hardly a choice at all, I thought, until I hit upon a simple solution. I must walk backwards, always keeping my eyes on the man. I stepped back, cautiously at first, then growing more and more confident as his eyes that returned my gaze began to disappear in the fog. Then he and the castle had disappeared, and I was on my way again. But why did I not think to step around him, and walk backwards towards the Castle of Hope?