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• HCOB 4 Oct 56 High School Indoctrination

• HCOB 4 Oct 56 High School Indoctrination

The following chapter on High School Indoctrination has been excerpted from the ACC Manual and published in HCOB form to ensure its data is easily available to students on Upper Indoc TRs.

The following chapter on High School Indoctrination has been excerpted from the ACC Manual and published in HCOB form to ensure its data is easily available to students on Upper Indoc TRs.

There are five levels of auditor indoctrination, five levels of skill in which he must be versed. One of these is High School Indoctrination.

There are five levels of auditor indoctrination, five levels of skill in which he must be versed. One of these is High School Indoctrination.

Every auditor has, from time to time, found himself in difficult and peculiar circumstances while auditing a preclear. How about the PC who makes a perfectly frank sexual pass at you? What about the time you said, “Walk over to the wall?” and the preclear looked at you intently and asked, “Are you a Theta clear?” Then there's the pc who sits down, presumably to be audited, and launches forth: “Oh, what a pretty tie you're wearing today. I got one just like it for my husband – except it's green instead of blue, the one I got for him I mean. And it was supposed to be three-fifty, but I got it at wholesale for two-ninety-five because I know the owner of the store. I went to his daughter's wedding last week. My niece was supposed to be a bridesmaid, but right at the last minute...” Non-stop. Or perhaps you've run into a “Tone Twenty”: “Do I see that wall? Why, I can see right through the wall! I can see the entire MEST universe, any time at all. Right now the Solar System looks about the size of a printed period to me.” Unreality, unreality, unreality.

Every auditor has, from time to time, found himself in difficult and peculiar circumstances while auditing a preclear. How about the PC who makes a perfectly frank sexual pass at you? What about the time you said, “Walk over to the wall?” and the preclear looked at you intently and asked, “Are you a Theta clear?” Then there's the pc who sits down, presumably to be audited, and launches forth: “Oh, what a pretty tie you're wearing today. I got one just like it for my husband – except it's green instead of blue, the one I got for him I mean. And it was supposed to be three-fifty, but I got it at wholesale for two-ninety-five because I know the owner of the store. I went to his daughter's wedding last week. My niece was supposed to be a bridesmaid, but right at the last minute...” Non-stop. Or perhaps you've run into a “Tone Twenty”: “Do I see that wall? Why, I can see right through the wall! I can see the entire MEST universe, any time at all. Right now the Solar System looks about the size of a printed period to me.” Unreality, unreality, unreality.

So what did you do? Did you get a trifle tensed up when the PC started to paw you affectionately? Did you get a little brusque, as you scraped him or her off with a putty knife? Did you get decoyed into a discussion of the history of your case and current state of exteriorization by the chap who wanted to know if you were clear? A little huffy, maybe? And what about the preclear who talks, and talks, and talks, and talks? Ever sat there wondering, “Is this a 'preclear origination?' Should I acknowledge? Should I ignore it? Is there any way of gagging her, till I can get 'Locate the ceiling' out? Maybe she's blowing locks. Or is this her present time problem? And if so, which of the sixteen items she's covered in the last three minutes is it?” Perhaps you've got the obsessive talker taped, but how do you make out with the fake Tone Twenty? A little baffled about how to have him find a wall without bringing forth torrents of anguished protest? «You're invalidating me! You ought to be running me on 8-0. You're just trying to stick me in my head, because you're a Black Five yourself. All my theta perceptics just turned off! What do you do then? Well, here comes the United States Cavalry to the aid of the stopped, badgered, and harassed auditor. It's called High School Indoctrination. And it should never happen to homo sapiens; he'd never survive it. Auditors, fortunately, are sterner stuff than homo sap. They come out of it, bright as a dollar, crying, “Bring on the lions!”

So what did you do? Did you get a trifle tensed up when the PC started to paw you affectionately? Did you get a little brusque, as you scraped him or her off with a putty knife? Did you get decoyed into a discussion of the history of your case and current state of exteriorization by the chap who wanted to know if you were clear? A little huffy, maybe? And what about the preclear who talks, and talks, and talks, and talks? Ever sat there wondering, “Is this a 'preclear origination?' Should I acknowledge? Should I ignore it? Is there any way of gagging her, till I can get 'Locate the ceiling' out? Maybe she's blowing locks. Or is this her present time problem? And if so, which of the sixteen items she's covered in the last three minutes is it?” Perhaps you've got the obsessive talker taped, but how do you make out with the fake Tone Twenty? A little baffled about how to have him find a wall without bringing forth torrents of anguished protest? «You're invalidating me! You ought to be running me on 8-0. You're just trying to stick me in my head, because you're a Black Five yourself. All my theta perceptics just turned off! What do you do then? Well, here comes the United States Cavalry to the aid of the stopped, badgered, and harassed auditor. It's called High School Indoctrination. And it should never happen to homo sapiens; he'd never survive it. Auditors, fortunately, are sterner stuff than homo sap. They come out of it, bright as a dollar, crying, “Bring on the lions!”

Here's how it goes. An instructor, who will act as preclear, leads a student-auditor to a large, secluded room. As soon as the words, “Start of session” are out of his mouth, the instructor-preclear may drop to the floor in a dead faint, burst into a wild grief charge, bolt for the - 315 - door, or balk like a donkey with a glazed, blank stare. Or perhaps he may just stroke the student-auditor's hair, murmuring, “You're awfully cute, really. Why don't we drop this pretense...” Whatever the instructor-preclear elects to do by way of randomity. If the student-auditor bogs utterly, a soft-hearted instructor-preclear might say, “End of session,” and give him a couple of tips. Tougher instructor-preclears frown on this, and believe in letting the student-auditor work his own way out of the situation, though he plow through 76,000,000,000,000 years of track, year by year, to accomplish it.

Here's how it goes. An instructor, who will act as preclear, leads a student-auditor to a large, secluded room. As soon as the words, “Start of session” are out of his mouth, the instructor-preclear may drop to the floor in a dead faint, burst into a wild grief charge, bolt for the - 315 - door, or balk like a donkey with a glazed, blank stare. Or perhaps he may just stroke the student-auditor's hair, murmuring, “You're awfully cute, really. Why don't we drop this pretense...” Whatever the instructor-preclear elects to do by way of randomity. If the student-auditor bogs utterly, a soft-hearted instructor-preclear might say, “End of session,” and give him a couple of tips. Tougher instructor-preclears frown on this, and believe in letting the student-auditor work his own way out of the situation, though he plow through 76,000,000,000,000 years of track, year by year, to accomplish it.

The instructor-preclear may run from manic enthusiasm to deepest apathy in a fraction of a second, and if the student-auditor doesn't instantly detect the change in «case level,» and handle it properly, he will be hearing from the instructor-preclear. One of the more unsettling things the instructor-preclear does is to behave like a nice, sane, high-toned preclear for minutes at a stretch. The student-auditor knows this state of affairs can't last for long. He will get thoroughly tensed up, expecting from instant to instant the next horrid outburst. It's like marching a lighted firecracker around the room. When the strain becomes obvious, the instructor-preclear will say, “End of session.” And he may say, “What are you all tensed up for? Relax. Start of session.” Three seconds later, he's throwing an epileptic fit on the floor, complete with froth.

The instructor-preclear may run from manic enthusiasm to deepest apathy in a fraction of a second, and if the student-auditor doesn't instantly detect the change in «case level,» and handle it properly, he will be hearing from the instructor-preclear. One of the more unsettling things the instructor-preclear does is to behave like a nice, sane, high-toned preclear for minutes at a stretch. The student-auditor knows this state of affairs can't last for long. He will get thoroughly tensed up, expecting from instant to instant the next horrid outburst. It's like marching a lighted firecracker around the room. When the strain becomes obvious, the instructor-preclear will say, “End of session.” And he may say, “What are you all tensed up for? Relax. Start of session.” Three seconds later, he's throwing an epileptic fit on the floor, complete with froth.

There is a second step of High School Indoc which is run seated. By this time the student-auditor has a fair certainty that he can cope with a preclear's going out of control on a general physical level. The seated form takes a more insidious turn. Some very simple process, Locational, or “Look at me. Who am I?” is used. The instructor-preclear will go out of control much more subtly. He will try to get the student-auditor to change the process, on one pretext or another. The nastiest thing to most student-auditors on seated Indoc is an avalanche of highly personal criticism and button pushing aimed directly at the student-auditor. When he winces noticeably, the instructor-preclear pursues the same topic to the bitter end. «Your hands smell funny. Don't you ever wash them? There's a lot of dirt under the nails, too. Careful you don't scratch me, and start an infection.” Or, perhaps, “If Scientology's so good, what are you still wearing glasses for?” In other words, the instructor-preclear opens up with both barrels on anything he suspects the student-auditor might actually be a little sensitive about. When a student-auditor has survived this phase of High School Indoc, and discovers that he can still give an auditing command and see that it is executed, he has achieved a nearly unshakable poise and composure!

There is a second step of High School Indoc which is run seated. By this time the student-auditor has a fair certainty that he can cope with a preclear's going out of control on a general physical level. The seated form takes a more insidious turn. Some very simple process, Locational, or “Look at me. Who am I?” is used. The instructor-preclear will go out of control much more subtly. He will try to get the student-auditor to change the process, on one pretext or another. The nastiest thing to most student-auditors on seated Indoc is an avalanche of highly personal criticism and button pushing aimed directly at the student-auditor. When he winces noticeably, the instructor-preclear pursues the same topic to the bitter end. «Your hands smell funny. Don't you ever wash them? There's a lot of dirt under the nails, too. Careful you don't scratch me, and start an infection.” Or, perhaps, “If Scientology's so good, what are you still wearing glasses for?” In other words, the instructor-preclear opens up with both barrels on anything he suspects the student-auditor might actually be a little sensitive about. When a student-auditor has survived this phase of High School Indoc, and discovers that he can still give an auditing command and see that it is executed, he has achieved a nearly unshakable poise and composure!

It may sound inhuman, but it's not out of reach. Students are arriving at this goal every day – students who mumbled, and students who fidgeted. Students who couldn't confront or control a PC, and ran a process on the nth level of abstraction. (You know, they were “running 8C on a preclear for an hour,” not having this preclear walk over to that wall, right now.) They can make every minute of a session count now, because everything they do in session is Auditing. This is the routine expectancy for a present day ACC graduate. It can be taught anyone who is willing to learn it.

It may sound inhuman, but it's not out of reach. Students are arriving at this goal every day – students who mumbled, and students who fidgeted. Students who couldn't confront or control a PC, and ran a process on the nth level of abstraction. (You know, they were “running 8C on a preclear for an hour,” not having this preclear walk over to that wall, right now.) They can make every minute of a session count now, because everything they do in session is Auditing. This is the routine expectancy for a present day ACC graduate. It can be taught anyone who is willing to learn it.