This is November the 18, first morning lecture.

And this is November the 18th, the first afternoon lecture.

We're going to have, this morning, a very fast rundown on Steps I and II, Clinical Procedure. We'll find as we develop this material that it falls more and more into a highly formalized shape now.

The first thing I want to tell you is that while I appreciate the fact that sooner or later you may feel you're going to instruct in this subject, I hope I'm not teaching your notebook. I hope I'm not auditing your notebook. That's a fact. That's right, I hope you're not auditing on that basis.

There isn't a technique which we have here, which I haven't had in operation for over eight months. Not one of these. But these techniques fitted into the proper frames of reference for communication and delivery to the understanding of an auditor who's expected to use them, and an application upon an individual's case and so on, is still in the process of development and will continue so. These are — processes are old, but they are not old in terms of their arrangement.

When you sit down in front of a pc, you want this stuff in your head. And I'm trying to cover it over and over, backwards and forwards over the same ground and so forth, to put it in your head. Savvy? I want you to have this material so when you sit down and the preclear starts to scream, scream, scream and jump up and jump out the window and so forth, and go through the normal American evolution of being processed, that you got the data, pang! right there — verbally. And if you've got the data right there verbally, by that time, you'll be having no trouble with your case either.

Let's take now, very rapidly, a rundown on Step I. A Step I is somebody, of course, who can step immediately back of his head. This shouldn't confuse you for a moment on this subject. After somebody's stepped in back of his head, you run Step I. And then you run II and III and IV and V and VI and VII. Now that's actually what they're designed to do. It happens, with their arrangement that if he doesn't do Step I, you go to Step II, Step III, Step IV, Step V, until you spring him. And then you go to what he can do exteriorly. And the safest thing to do is simply run I, II, III, IV, V, VI and VII exteriorized. Because the technique is designed for, now, exteriorized processing — the processing of an exteriorized person — not with its emphasis on exteriorizing somebody. Do you understand that?

Now don't get self-conscious. If you still want to put down notes in your notebook, that's all right with me. I'm not telling you not to put notes down in a notebook. Go ahead. But make sure that I'm putting it in your head and not your notebook. A lot of people have a beautiful circuit, and some people have gone all the way through a university teaching a notebook. When they get all the way through a course, sometimes some goofball professor says, "Now, let me see your notebooks and make sure that they're thoroughly taught." (audience laughter) That's right.

Now, Clinical Procedure is simply this development: that you could just start processing somebody and actually to some degree omit the step, as such, of exteriorization — because he'll exteriorize. Well then, he's being exteriorized without being forced into exteriorization.

I know one professor, used to grade solely on the notebook. So we had a system: We just handed him in the same notebooks at the end of every course. He took them. Nobody ever bothered to appear in class, he never noticed. He'd gotten it — teaching — down to an automaticity the like of which we'd never heard of before.

Well, Step I is orientation. It depends upon this Prelogic: that theta creates space, time, energy, and locates it in the space. And its second operation, of course — a secondary operation — is to locate things in space and time. First couple of Prelogics.

But this morning, by George, while I was processing you, we had some of the processing going down in a notebook. Well now, by golly, I didn't like auditing that notebook because the person doing it needed processing. All right.

Now, that's "pre-Logic," by the way. Those aren't just something we thought of, you see, after we thought of the Logics. Because the Logics are Logics. And if you want to make somebody who is having a good time think-think-think-think-think practically spin, just have him double-terminal logic. Just have him put logic out there in front of him four times, and you'll see more action than you've ever seen before, because there is the bottom rung of automaticity. Really gorgeous what happens on logic! That's not a recommended procedure, that's just a demonstration procedure.

Now, let's understand the purpose of these lectures I'm giving you. They aren't actually what you would put under the label of "I'm trying to teach you something." The truth of the matter is, I'm trying to unteach you. If I'm doing anything, it's that. And if I can succeed in unteaching you a lot of automaticities and preconceptions and so forth, we'll be successful.

Two kinds of procedure — there's three kinds. There's investigatory, demonstration that phenomena is there, and then practical processing procedures. And many that would belong — were in practical and — practical processing procedures have moved into the other procedures. All right.

You wonder why I said we ought to have something called "American procedure." We ought to have something called American procedure very, very neatly, because this is the most automatic country on the face of the earth today.

Now let's take this Prelogic — that's before Logic. That's exactly what it says. It isn't an Axiom; it isn't a self-evident truth; it isn't a basis on which you can evolve something, as you can in the Logics. It just happens to be phenomena which precedes logic.

Talking about space opera. Space opera used to be a lot of fun, you know. You'd spend two hours getting into your suit, and you get all this equipment and you get it all here and there and you stuff it and fill up your pockets, and then you climb up with this two hundred pounds of stuff, up a ladder that's about thirty feet tall, to get into some kind of an airport. And you get inside this ship, you see, and then you regulate about five hundred switches and you have to pair — repair four or five electronic circuits and you patch some things together with chewing gum and you strap yourself down in a seat and take off. And then you navigate like mad, going three times the speed of light, trying to navigate by stars that are invisible for some days. And then you land someplace for the skin of your teeth, and boy, you really knew you did something. That's right. You really knew you did something. All right.

And then we get logic proceeding dually: one, simply from knowingness; and two, simply from these Prelogics of locating things in time and space.

Space opera toward the end of that time got into this kind of a circumstance. (You did this over and over and over again.) A fellow went down and he climbed aboard a little trolley and he got in this trolley and it took him on up and he landed in the ship, see. And he'd sit down in the chair, and the chair strapped him in and adjusted his oxygen and so forth. And he — finally it just — the chair decided that he was well enough seated and well enough strapped in, and the ship took off on a prearranged course to a prearranged destination, at a prearranged speed. The chair and instruments and so forth took very good care of him, fed him and breathed him until he got there, and landed him safely at the spaceport. He got out. Nobody'd knew he'd done a thing because he hadn't done anything — it was all automatic. The people who had done it was the technicians. All right.

You can reduce practically the whole language, if not the entire language, simply to action in space. Action or lack of action in space. For instance, the language is very limited because its use is communication of space — is what can we mutually observe? Those things which we have observed are in space and are objects in space and are motion in space, and as a result we get a communication. That is the basic communication, is motion in space, and different kinds of spaces. So that is, essentially, communication. So the mest language has a tendency to relegate itself entirely to this. But we can take this language — fantastic thing — we can take this language and talk about something that is completely out of its definition.

Let's compare that with what we're doing with a preclear. And we find out that in those areas where an individual is accustomed to having everything done for him — you push a button and so on and that happens — we're going to get rough cases. And we're going to get the roughest cases out of the person who's pushed the most buttons. Just like that. He — his life is running on a push-button basis. It means that the society itself is busy keying in all of his automaticity. And one of the first things it keys in is occlusion. Pang! There he goes, see? It's all automatic. He knows he didn't do anything.

Language is something we can mutually observe, which has become symbolized in terms of words. Now, we can take these words, because we've symbolized them, and we can simply move out of it by saying, "Well, we don't mean that symbol. You see, we mean the opposite of that symbol." And there must have been an opposite to the symbol or otherwise there wouldn't have been a symbol, and people understand what you mean.

Now, if you could just get a preclear to go out — just get him to go out and take an axe and knock a fence to pieces, all the way down the fence — the end of that time he'd know he'd done something. Wasn't any fence there anymore, there's just a bunch of splinters. See? He'd know that he'd done something. You get that?

But the communication of this material has been the problem to be resolved, more than anything else. All right.

Now, this automaticity goes further than that. It goes viciously further than that. It goes to the point where they expect the auditor to do it all. They think somehow or other if they punch a button on the auditor, the auditor will run for a certain number of hours and they will be Clear. The hell they will! They won't, and that's the end of it.

Now, in Step I, we are attacking not just somebody who exteriorizes and is three feet back of his head and knows it and is very certain and so on. Don't classify that step as an operation or action step. Let's classify it on more of what it is: that is the step of Location. And anything and everything that has to do with location past, present and future, belongs in Step I. Specifically location — not change of location, that belongs in Step V; but just plain, ordinary, routine, run-of-the-mill location.

So it's up to you as an auditor to knock out the second stage. And it comes under Step II of SOP 8-C, which is automaticity. And the way you do this ... You see, the earliest shadow of this is, "Mock up the body." You have him mock up a body — mock up the body several times, till he's used to having the body outside him and he doesn't collapse a terminal on it the second he stands outside. And then he's outside.

Where is the microphone? It is so many inches from this corner and so many inches from that corner. And that is the position of the microphone. And this room is such and such a distance from such and such an object, and so on. Because all locations are relative. They are relative to other locations.

Why are we doing that to a body? Been doing that to a body in areas where I've been around for about eight months. The reason why is, he's setting up the most automatic thing he's got. It talks for him, it squawks for him, it speaks and sees and hears and it even has gotten to a point where it combs its own hair, and it drives properly without direction and so on. Cause level of the body may be pretty good on a number of subjects. But a person stops causing them.

And soon as the person realizes there is no hitching post in the MEST universe which is suddenly sitting — to be found by a preclear, suddenly sitting there, which is immovable, irradicable and entirely fixed without relating itself to any other post, that it's the "prime post unposted," you've actually lost your grip on the whole subject of logic. The reason for this is, is every logic is related to some other logic, every datum is related to some other datum. Data can only be evaluated in terms of data of comparable magnitude and so forth. And we go right on off into all of the Logics and Axioms.

Having a hobby is simply being cause level over some kind of an automaticity. It's being a supercontrol over the top of something that is supercontrolled. You see that? Somebody takes up the hobby of postage stamps; well, that's not very automatic. But the fellow that takes up the hobby of ham radio is at least being cause level over a terrific amount of automaticity. And you know, he keeps on being cause as long as he keeps building and rebuilding equipment.

But there is no "prime post unposted" in the universe to which everything else relates. People have a tendency . . . You know, when I was running, you know, "Touch the statue," on arrival — you know, I would just run this as, "In the future you have touched the statue." Well, naturally people have the idea there ought to be a "prime post unposted" to which everything else is related. That there is a location which is independent of any other location. No such location exists. All locations are there because they are related to other locations which are there, because they are there because they are related to other locations which are there. And around and round we go.

If you go into a ham radio shop or if you go into a ham radio shack, you'll find equipment and machinery and everything lying around all the time, and it's — "he's going to build" and "he has just fixed." If you'd happened to clip the switch and listen to a couple of hams talking, what are they talking about? Are they talking about their wives or children? No. Those poor people, the wives and children, have been forgotten long since — except when Irma comes in, is permitted to say, "Hello Joe. Yes, I'm glad that you installed the 6018 like you did. Mm-hm. Well, goodbye, Joe." The wife's permitted to step into the thing to that degree. (She's kind of automatic too by that time.) And when we have a conversation, it is a highly technical conversation about what they did to make something else more automatic. And a ham radio quits — he just quits cold — one of these boys stops when he can't build it any better. I swear, some of them, if they really thought they were reaching that goal, would at least plug in something on the wrong power line and blow it out. And you can trace back most of the accidents and so forth they have to just this anxiety "not to have it work too well."

And people get into these silly things like "It must be a circular time track," and "It must be a circular universe." This is only because if they beat everything to pieces, they would find out it finally related to itself. They would find out that after they've related everything to everything that was related to everything, they would get back to the first thing that they started relating things to.

Now, some people run bodies that way. The body starts to work all right and then they get afraid that it's going to get too doggone automatic and they start clipping off the various things it can do and making it tough for themselves. They wreck it in order to repair it. Nearly every case you have coming in has been pushed into this category. (Except somebody who has been directly PDHed. And he's had an automaticity set up for him that is simply dependent upon an earlier automaticity that he'd like to be unconscious. That would be fun too.)

I'll give you an example of this. All right. We take the microphone: it's so many inches from that corner, so many inches from that corner. And the room: it's sitting in a room where those corners — those corners in relationship to the courthouse over here — there's so many feet over to the courthouse, and it's so many feet down the line to a certain river dock. Okay, where's the courthouse? The courthouse is related in a certain location to Washington, DC and that is — and the courthouse is also in certain relationship to Los Angeles. All right. Where's Washington, DC, and Los Angeles? They're at the extremities of the United States, which is located between two oceans. Where are these two oceans? They are located on Earth and the Earth is located in relationship to a sun. But this sun is in location to Polaris, Betelgeuse, Arcturus and certain other stars. And where are these located? They are located in their relationship to the positions from the center of this galaxy. Where's the center of this galaxy? The center of this galaxy is the mean location and centering of all lines which would be drawn inward toward it. That's the center of the galaxy. It's very simple. All right.

All right. What's this amount to in auditing? It means that you, as an auditor, have got to be prepared to be cause.

Now, let's just take the galaxy. We say, "Where is the center of the galaxy?" Well, the center of the galaxy is related at such and such a distance from that microphone. See, people think they know something. Science is always engaged on this. They say, "The railroad track goes from Hoboken to Sloboken. It starts in at Hoboken and arrives at Sloboken." Then they never ask, "Where's Hoboken?" and "Where's Sloboken?" They think they've located a railroad track. Well, actually they have, because that's the — all the location there is.

How can you be cause? Well, the best way to be cause is to use the most basic mechanisms that you can possibly use to resolve a case. If you want to resolve a case of occlusion, the best thing to do is to take the very mechanism which takes occlusion and makes occlusion and continues occlusion. And what is that? It's an automatic machine that makes conclusions and occlusions and it makes exclusions and it's got all of these various things and it keeps jamming them in on the pc. He was happily using this machine on other people and other people and other people and other people, and this was all swell; except one day the darn thing got busted and wouldn't go, and worked all of a sudden on him! The machine's working on an "other person" target when it's working on his body.

The greatest secret of the mest universe, you see, is there's no secret. It is there. But it's there because you say it's there. And this doesn't mean it isn't there, merely because you say it is there. Because, you see, you happen to be all the authority there is for the location of it.

When he thinks he has lost somebody that he needs — get this — he then has lost somebody he needs. Is that so? So the machine which is set up to run on "lost," clicks in. That's real simple, isn't it? The relay switches on these — basic machinery is Q and A. It's — "Lost?" The machine goes, "Lost!" see? "Crunch, crunch, crunch." So it loses him. See? And it makes him invisible.

And people who want to minimize people's authority say, "Well, it's all illusionary because you just think it's — you just imagine it." Oh, boy, what a cancellation. Rrrr! You're nothing because that which you imagine, then, has no validity. And when all the validity there is, is that which you imagine . . . See? In other words, your imagination can make things awful doggone real real. See? Real good.

Now, he's got other machinery that'll set up the same way. He drives somebody insane, so forth, he's got a machine there that he's going to use to drive somebody crazy. He keeps using it, keeps using it, and he keeps using it. And then all of a sudden, he suddenly realizes he has driven somebody a little bit off, he has reduced somebody's sanity, and the machine goes to work — on him.

The way to look at it — it's just a difference of viewpoint — is whether you take the motorcycle down the road or the motorcycle takes you down the road. They say, "It's all illusory because you thought of it." All right, that's the motorcycle taking somebody down the road, see? Everybody knows they're nothing, and so on. So let's turn this around and say that "It's really real because you thought of it." Entirely different angle on the same thing. Well, that belongs, actually, in terms of knowingness.

He goes to college and decides the best way to do and get through college real hard is to concentrate like mad. And he concentrates and concentrates and concentrates until he gets cross-eyed. You can always tell this boy because when you tell him to look at the space around an object, his attention immediately snaps to a point beyond the object, slightly beyond the object. It doesn't even converge on the object. It's no space in the object, is what he gets. See, a scarcity of space — concentration. Too concentrated an attention. So he sets up this machine so that he can study. He sets it up so he can go into a lecture room and sort of push a little button, sit there, and he'll come out and at examination time he expects this machine to unreel for him three and three-quarters meters of chemistry. School system sets it up so he'll do that too. They keep telling him: "A student has to learn how to study. And the most part of that is concentration." So he sets up machines that do this.

So locational activities have to do, of course, with limitations and barriers. And this is the first step out of knowingness. We immediately move out of this certainty which is knowingness. Certainty is not data. It's not data, it's just knowing — knowing one knows. And that is actually a state of beingness.

And then one day he has to concentrate too hard on life. How does he do that? Well, he gets into an automobile accident and just before the accident, a glaring headlamp is right between his two headlamps, and he's looking right straight at that glaring headlamp, and then there's a sudden crash. He's convinced by now, but it turned the machine on. What machine? Thorough concentration turns on the machine which thoroughly concentrates. This is an actual machine. Does it have nuts and bolts? No, it doesn't. It has just as much nuts and bolts as that microphone has nuts and bolts. In other words, it's just the real universe and so it is something he put there with postulates. This is all there is to that machine. But he recognizes it in terms of automaticity and machinery.

But the first observable state of beingness has to do with space. And the second we get into space, of course — in order to have space, we have to have a viewpoint of a dimension. Well, how is the dimension achieved? The dimension is very simply achieved by having barriers on the space. But why and how is the space there? The space is there because it has barriers. So we're into an interrelated thing. We're into: Barriers make location possible. Location only becomes confused because of barriers. See? See, it's one of these — it's Q and A. It is what it is; the way to cross the river is to cross the river; the way to eat breakfast is to eat breakfast.

Why does he want automaticity in the first place? This is very simple. He wants automaticity because of the subject of randomity.

Now, here we have somebody looking at barriers which he put up. Then looking at barriers which he and somebody else put up. Then looking at barriers which somebody else put up. And you've got about all the kinds of barriers there are. Of course, there's the barriers somebody put up for him, and the barriers they put up for other people. So we have another classification, and we have a bracket of five. Actually, there are six brackets in space. We'll go into that later.

What is randomity? Randomity is the amount of predicted and unpredicted motion which a person has. That's all. It's a ratio. The amount of predicted motion in ratio to the amount of unpredicted motion which the individual has. And he likes to have about 50 percent predicted motion and about 50 percent unpredicted motion, and that's his idea of tolerance level on randomity. What is randomity? Unpredicted motion.

But when we have location, we have to do with barriers. You understand that the more we validate barriers, the more barrier they become. And the trouble with your pc, he's got too many barriers. Don't, however, miss this fact: unless you backtrack the track of agreements, you're not taking the wheels delicately, and the excess balance wheels and so forth out of the watch, you're just smashing the watch. You can just suddenly say, sneeringly, "Well, there's no barriers and the barriers don't have any validity and so forth, and it's all unreal anyway and we're all set." This is the way it works.

You go down the street. You go down the same street every day. Nothing ever happens on the street. You walk into the same gates. You ring the same doorbell. You go into the same house. You eat the same dinner. And so forth and so on, and, boy, there's nothing unpredicted there. And you go down that street every day, so forth. And after a while, you're driving around, and you suddenly decide you'll drive down that street and have a wreck; at least put something on that street that is an unpredicted motion. So you've got to pretend you didn't predict the motion in order to have an unpredicted motion.

He's convinced there are barriers and then he's unconvinced, which is an involution, you see? At first he's real convinced there are barriers, and then he gets unconvinced of these barriers of which he's already convinced. See, this is real unreality now. I mean, he was absolutely sure that when he banged his head into the tree, it found an impact between the head and the tree. You see, an impact was there when he banged his head into the tree. When he stamped his foot on the concrete walk, a foot contacted a concrete walk. He's very sure of this. Now, time goes on and he overdoes this and he becomes so sure that he's really sure, and he's sure beyond sure beyond . . . Well, it's — I don't know, you stamp feet into concrete walks, you have to have feet and they're very, very scarce; and maybe we'd better not stamp so many feet into so many concrete walks, and the way to do this is not to have so many feet and not to have so many concrete walks because they're scarce. That's about all there is to logic. But that's direct logic, that it actually assaults one's credulity that it could go this way. But after a while, why, he doesn't have feet to stamp against concrete walks.

That's the tombstone which sits over the head of every unaware thetan: "I've got to pretend that the motion is unpredicted in order to have an unpredicted motion." And that is the basis on automaticity. The basic problem is he wants to be surprised. Now you get a thetan to take — mock up a box: "Now put something in the box that you don't know is there, so that when you lift the lid you won't know it's there and you'll be surprised." So he'll do that. And then he lifts the lid and it goes pang! And he's very happy about it. That's unpre­dicted motion.

Now, what have you got to do? You've got to give him a concrete walk — not necessarily, but the fast-working technique gives him a foot and a concrete walk, shows him they're real, and then shows him they aren't real again. But that's bringing him up scale, not down scale. It doesn't show him, "Look, here's a foot and a concrete walk. Now, you're sure they're there? Now we're going to show you they're not there at all. Uh-huh! And we're going to show you not only that they're not there, but that you're a very foolish person for believing they ever were there." And we just wheel the guy off in a wheelbarrow to the local spinbin. And that's the way it's done.

Now, when you give a person all unpredicted motion, or nearly all unpredicted motion, boy, he gets real frantic — he hasn't enough predicted motion to stabilize him. So he doesn't know where he is, he gets lost. Why? He has to be able to predict where the eight corners of this room will be tomorrow morning to know there's a room here. Right?

That's the big operation in this universe, is you convince somebody something exists, and then you unconvince him by showing him it doesn't exist. And you do this, and if you do this on a line where he is merely being confused by it, and is still carrying his old existences, why, he's in terrible shape. So, again, we have the validation of barrier. The validation of barrier precedes, by impact, the invalidation of barriers.

All right. Supposing you fixed it up, or fixed him up, by processing machinery till the eight corners of this room started appearing all over the universe. Now, he wouldn't know where this room was going to be, so he didn't know where he was supposed to be the next morning. Rrrrrr! But that is super-unprediction. Now, that is too much randomity.

And people invalidate barriers. This works like this: A fellow is convinced that a blackjack will meet a skull when wielded against a skull. He objects to this and he objects to it and he objects to it and keeps getting slugged with a blackjack. So finally he goes to the point of where he says, "Because of this, there is no blackjack and I have no skull, really." See, that's his defense against this. He says they don't exist. In other words, he tries to scramble backwards — and all the time he is madly holding a skull away from a blackjack, and a blackjack away from a skull. Although he's convinced they don't exist — he says.

Now, as far as automaticity is concerned, it immediately springs out of this: You have to say, "I pretend I don't know anything about it," so that a certain effect will occur. In other words, a person wants to be partially an effect as well as partially cause.

So your preclear is madly holding the foot above the sidewalk and not letting it meet, the head from smashing the tree, all over the time track — and at the same time saying, "I'm not there. I'm not there. It doesn't exist. It doesn't exist. No. No, it isn't real."

Well, he starts out with a chessboard. He mocks up a chessboard. And he decides to play chess with himself. So he sits on one side of the board, and then he moves around to the other side of the board and then he moves back to the first side of the board and moves a knight. And he moves to the second side of the board and moves a bishop to counter the move of the knight. And he moves back to the first side of the board and he moves out a pawn in order to guard the knight. And then he moves over to the other side of the board and puts a knight up in place in order to check the bishop and so on. And he looks at this and he knows, each time, what the motion's going to be. Of course, chess is a very unrandom game.

"I can't see well," he says, "you know, I can't see well. I look at the walls and they're kind of thin. Kind of seems to me sometimes the whole universe is liable to disappear." This is real sad. Well, all you do to reverse this is to give him back the barriers which he already had, and then undo those, so he's no longer holding something.

You can forecast chess practically with the first — given the first three moves of the game and two average players, you can always predict the end of the game, poom! That's a very unrandom sort of a game. It's a very interesting game, I guess. But they had lots of time in India. So, anyway, even with a game like this, a person says, "Lookit, somebody else has got to be on the other side of that board." All right.

And how do you go about this? You show him by a process — Step I, actually — that there is no barrier to hold. Now, the way you show him, however, is by showing him there is a barrier to hold, and then showing him there isn't a barrier to hold, on this basis: self-determined.

So he goes over on the other side of the board, and he sits down on the other side of the board and he says, "I am somebody else." That's the first stage. Then he comes back to the first side of the board.

See, there are two ways to go about it. The way he goes down scale is it's other-determined assurance, you know? Blackjack against the skull, blackjack against the skull, blackjack wielded by somebody else, skull belongs to something else, and there they're coming together madly and he's trying to say all the time, "They're not there," and something else is saying very authoritatively, "They're not there," and then somebody comes along later and tells him and convinces him utterly that he has no skull. This is other-determinism at work.

Little kids do this. You can observe this. And they sit down the first side of the board and say, "Now my name is Bill and I'm making this move. And I go around to the other side of the board, now my name is Joe and I'll make this move. Now I'll go around here," and he'll — pretty soon you'll hear — you'd hear the person saying, as he was being Joe, "Bill, that was too clever for me."

Now, self-determinism at work, you simply show him, "Look, you were making the barriers in the first place," and he realizes this suddenly. But if he doesn't realize this on his own power, you have not unmade it, you have just pushed him down scale. You get the two differences?

Well, the next real stage of this is a very simple one. He sits on one side of this board and he says, "Now there is a person on the other side of the board." And if he's a real able thetan, he simply mocks one up, endows it with life and then occludes its identity. But gives it an identity and occludes its actual origin. And its actual origin is that he made it.

So by locating him in time and space all over the shop, you eventually show him that he has the power to locate himself in time and space. And you take away any of the automaticity which he had and was trusting and had forgotten about. You've taken away the automaticity which is doing all this locating for him. You just locate him, you see. You get him located in three universes: his own, somebody else's and the mest universe. And you get him well-located and well-oriented, and you get him well-oriented in time, you find present time for him and that sort of thing. And then on his own determinism — because he's gotten rid of this automaticity and a few other things (but that all takes place in Step I, just automatically; again, the step itself is somewhat automatic) — he gets up to a point where he can start looking through the barriers; but he can only start really looking through them when he knows he put them there. You get the idea?

Occlusion of actual origin is the first break over into an automaticity. An automaticity is something that will be done that something doesn't want to know anything about. The heck of it is, that there is not a thetan who can still make a body twitch, who himself is not capable of doing everything one hundred times better than some cockeyed apparatus that he set up that would trigger when he thought a random thought. He could always do it better. And yet he's got machines that make his mock-ups, he's got machines that unmock things, he's got machines that unmock the mest universe, he's got things that occlude the mest universe, he's got things that unocclude it, he's got things that make it solid, he's got things that put up barriers where barriers are not supposed to be. He's done these things all the way down the track and he's still got all his machinery. And he wonders why he's in a dwindling spiral.

First, he knows they're his, and he knows he at least had a hand in putting them there. And then he can banish them. And then he can put them there at will. And then he relaxes about the whole thing. You see?

And the final end product of all of this is a body. And now you ask somebody to get out of the body! The body has been eating for him, thinking for him, spitting for him and doing everything for him — giving him all of his sensations, so forth. As far as he's concerned, this thing called a body is the most automatic gadget he ever heard of. It's learned how to play bridge, it's learned how to play chess, it's learned how to play the piano.

If you put it the other way around, whereby you just start hammering and convincing him and then saying, "You see, you know it isn't there," why, you're just being other-determinism. He'll simply go down Tone Scale.

And you get some boy in his last stages, he will simply tell you, as he sits down to the piano, "Well, I don't pay much attention to it — my hands do all that." Sure, and he's got a sheet of music in front of him where Brahms is doing all the music. What's he doing sitting at the piano? (Probably is nobody listening to him either.) I mean, so it goes from "all ability to do everything," such as look at a piano and say, "Let's see, the way you play the piano is so and so, and probably melodies could come out of the — and let's see those strings. Those strings are — ah! very interesting, those strings are various wavelengths and they probably chord in this fashion, and that's probably going — goes on a cycle of eight, doesn't it? That's very fine. All right." Crash! Something twice as good as the "Moonlight Sonata." You think so? You think not.

People get over arthritis, by the way, by going into apathy. Yeah, you can move somebody from anger down into apathy, he'd probably lose his arthritis. Interesting, isn't it?

Probably this looks very horrifying to you: the thought of looking at the doggonedest biggest truck with thirty-two speeds forward — and maybe you couldn't even drive a car, and you look at this thing and you say, "Let's see, now, the motor and so forth burns some kind of fuel or something. Yep. It's got wheels — they could probably go round. And let's see, the steering wheel goes this way, and now all you've got to do is slide it in. There must be some way to make it go forward and there must be some way to make it go backwards. The connections are so and so. Oh, those make it go forward and (mumble) backwards. Ah, that's all we need. Okay. Now that goes down there and there's some kind of a storage — there's juice down there someplace. Yeah, that connects up with a little, and one of them starts circling in, and there's got to be a flow of fuel over here so it comes out. Now, push the button there, throttle her here, push it in," and go off down the road. Doing a far better job than a truck driver.

You can do things to somebody by pushing them down scale as fast as you put them up scale. That's right. Just as fast. Of course they're not much there anymore and so forth, but they're not any trouble to anybody either. Psychiatry works on this basis to some very marked degree. They "treat" patients so that the patient is less trouble to his environment, and that's their goal.

You see how foreign that philosophy is to the current philosophy that if you just study real hard, and if you drive one to get the experience, about fifteen years, you will eventually know something about a truck — at least to the degree of being an assistant driver on a transcontinental run.

And our goal neglects the fact that the patient may be more trouble to his environment. Just neglects it utterly. Because, by test, we have discovered that after he's been troublesome to his environment for a while, he gets to a point where he's assisting his environment, and we figure that's better.

And of course we all know that an airplane pilot has to have four thousand hours in the air on all types of multiengine aircraft before anybody would trust him to sit in the passenger seat, practically. We know that.

It's all a point of view, whether everybody succumbs or everybody survives. And it's just difference of viewpoint. And probably a lot of argument in favor of everybody succumbing, except the person who wants them all to succumb. And it's just a point of view, you might say. It comes under the heading of the "only one." If a fellow has to play the idea of the "only one," then everybody's got to succumb. See, everybody else must succumb because he's the "only one." It's very simple. All right.

All right. Contrast that with a fellow who goes out and he says, "Hm. Hm. Hm. Yeah, there's (mumble) — mm-hm, mm-hm. Gee, this thing must take a nice line of balance. Well, all right, let's take it into the sky and find out." And then he'll say, "What the hell am I driving it from here for anyway," and go outside and put a beam on it and lug it across, the same system. Super-super-superautomaticity.

What precisely does Step I consist of? Consists of direct location.

The more automatic things get, the less the individual. There's a definite law. The less automatic things are, the greater the feeling of accomplishment and the greater the knowingness. The more automaticity, the less the knowingness. The more automaticity, the less the certainty. The less automaticity, the more the certainty. The less the automaticity, the less the impacts. The more the automaticity, the more the impacts. Savvy? It's a very simple problem.

Now, when you tell somebody, "Be three feet in back of your head," you, of course, are telling him to locate himself. And you've got him out of his own wavelength and bailed him out of energy sufficiently so that he is able to, actually, process things by sort of changing his mind. He can sort of change his mind there, from there out — within the limits imposed, which are resolved by Step II.

So we're taking Step II. And Step II consists of knocking out the machinery.

Now, what else is there to this step? Well, you see, that's just one brand of location.

And let's just knock it out and to hell with it — you can always put it back! This is one machine that if you take it apart even vaguely in an orderly fashion ... If you at least pull the balance wheels out of this watch on the order of the first balance wheel that shows itself, one after the other — if you'll just go about it in that orderly a fashion and so on, it'll come out to the smoothest, slickest, cleanest job you ever saw in your life. Well, you'll be able to do anything. This doesn't mean you have to be permissive and let the preclear do anything he wants to do; because his favorite machine is the one you're gunning for.

Now, because he has been so dependent upon impacts in the past for his conviction, it becomes more important for the auditor to discover where he is not, than where he is. And on this case, you never go in on the basis of, "Now where are you?" If you were really doing a smooth job of auditing, you wouldn't even ask him, "Are you three feet back of your head?" See? Now, you would say, "Are you in your head?" — you say, "Three feet back of your head. Now where are you not in the body?" That would be the next question.

What do we get at the end of all machinery gone? We get somebody who can do anything. Just literally anything.

And he'd say, "Well, I'm not in my feet. I'm not in my stomach. I'm not in my shoulders. See, I'm not in my — oh, I'm not in my head! Ha-ha!"

Somebody was talking to me the other day that — who has no bearing on this, particularly, but this shows you what, on a relatively low level, a person can do. As a kid I used to have a lot of fun picking up the know-how on something else to do. And I'd pick up the know-how and then I'd be bitterly criticized by somebody — oh, but bitterly! You'd have thought I'd robbed the mint or something, you see? Because I could then do what I had picked up to do, but insisted that I could do it. And of all the arguments! Brother! They knew it took experience and so forth, and that fact I never found out.

There you go. You've suddenly delivered into his hands a certainty.

And nobody was ever able to teach me this until sometime during the war I was running a corvette, and I had been called one time too many on an attack in the dark of night.

Now if you ask him, "Are you three feet back of your head?" he looks around and doesn't see anything. Of course it's he that is looking around and him he is expecting to see. And of course he can't see him, so he's in a state of unknowingness to a point where he's very uncertain. And when somebody's back of his head being very uncertain — you know, he knows he exteriorized in there for a moment and then he becomes very uncertain — it's usually because the auditor is asking too many puzzling or upsetting questions about his location.

The favorite time for the subs to attack was around twelve, one o'clock, when it was nice and dark, you know. A little bit later in the war they were getting even worse. They used to attack at twelve or one o'clock after the captain of the sub had finished breakfast — after a late breakfast, you know, they'd attack the convoys — when he had good light, you know, and could see them. But early in the war they were still being foolishly cautious. I've never found out why they were being cautious early in the war, because there was certainly nothing attacking them!

Because this person, if he's going to be uncertain, is already trying to make come true this line: "I am energy. I am an object. See, I have become something." And anytime somebody's trying to make that line come true, we're having a little trouble. Because the fact of the matter is, he's thought and he is personality and so on. But he doesn't think he's a personality and he thinks he's just a concept and he's real upset, and life looks very confusing to him at that moment when he suddenly arrives three feet back of his head, pong!

Why, I'd just been called one too many times at one o'clock in the morning. You know, when you're called — you've been up all day and then you're called first at eleven o'clock, but that was a log that your sound operator picked up; and then you were called at 11:22 (you'd just gotten back to sleep), and this time it was an empty lifeboat. And no fight in it, so you'd go back to bed and at 12:01 (oh, you were really asleep that time, you see), ring! and up you would go again to find out, of course, that it was merely a message which had come in on the battle channel that there was a battle going on just to the south of you. You didn't have anything to do with that, so you went back to bed again.

Very often people arrive three feet back of the head and the auditor asks them, "Now are you three feet back of the head?" And the fellow thinks for a moment, "I wonder if I am, let's see." And he starts looking around for himself or he starts looking at the body. Well, we don't even want him to look at the body.

Well, the only trouble with this, and the way that the automaticity got laid in was, of course, I wanted it to be laid in, but I remember this sequence very vividly: at first, I merely had one call buzzer. You know, they hit it twice and I would hit the bridge. That's all, I mean, it was very simple. They hit it twice, I'd hit the bridge and then I'd hit the general alarm gong — if there was anything wrong. But war was speeding up a little bit, so we finally got up to two bops on this buzzer, which would simply go bzz-bzz rather calmly up above my bed, and they would hit the general alarm simultaneously.

There's nothing wrong with his looking at the body. But the technique would even work better if you were to suddenly ask him, "Now are you in the upper right-hand corner of the room?" Just completely removed, see? "Are you in the upper right-hand corner of the room? Are you in the upper left-hand corner of the room?" It's where are you not that we're interested in. "Are you in the lower left-hand corner of the room? The other lower left-hand corner of the room? No? Well, are you in the back upper right-hand corner? The back upper left-hand corner? The back lower left-hand corner? The back upper right-hand corner? Oh, you're not in any of those points? You're sure of that now?"

Well, it was quite interesting because the general alarm gongs which they were issuing in World War I were merely automo, World War II, were merely automobile horns. They weren't general alarm gongs at all. They were stuff that they'd taken out of Buicks and Packards and automobiles, yo see, and they'd just park them all the way around the ship and these horns would suddenly open up.

Well, the guy says, "Well, of course, there it is! I can't be in it because I'm where I am because I'm not in it!"

Somebody'd throw a big lever on the bridge and that'd switch on all these horns all through the ship. And one, of course, would sit just outside my cabin. Bong! see? On would go the horn, and then two buzzers. Well, it was getting difficult to get out even with that, you see? That's — you get really staggery after a while and kind of sleepy. You know, your body isn't hitting too well, and you're supposed to be in the state of beautiful sadness of exhaustion because it is a war, and you're supposed to be doing something.

See, it's very simple. He's very, very happy about this.

So a telephone was run in. So the telephone bell, the buzzer, and the general alarm gong were hitting then, see? Well, that was quite adequate and got along for a while — until I missed one. So we put in another one. We put back into operation the old whistle tube. So another lookout would — on the upper bridge — would get on this whistle tube; and it screamed in my ear, right there, and I'd be out on the bridge with the whistle tube. Well, that was all right. But I got through all of those, and one time didn't turn out for GQ and neither did the executive officer. It was, I think, our fifth GQ of the same night, and so they — after that they sent a messenger down too.

And if you were to process a preclear whereby you didn't let him look at his body .. . You see, here's the chance of it: you can take a guy who's in terrifically good shape already and say, "Be three feet back of your head. Now are you there?"

In other words, we were actually building an automatic system. I was trying not to be there, you see, and the war was saying "be there." And my God, I never realized that an automatic system had been worked up until about 1946. About the spring of 1946, I was walking down the street, and a Buick pulled up to the curb, right near me, and blew its horn. And it set off this machinery. It set off the whole cockeyed works. And I got sleepy and I — I got sleepy and I got groggy and I got a sort of a frantic feeling, and I looked around and couldn't find what I was looking for, which was, of course, the bridge steps, and they were not in Los Angeles. And we got this thing, and it just got worse and worse. Every time I'd hear an automobile horn after that and so forth, I'd get nervous. It's a — upset. I knew I was supposed to go someplace, and I couldn't quite locate where I was supposed to go or what was supposed to happen. So I'd take it out on the automobile. And I'd say, "Well, that goddamn fool, what's he doing sitting there honking his horn!"

And the fellow says, "Sure."

All right. I've only told you this for one reason. I want to show you that Los Angeles is not in the North Atlantic. Nor yet, is it in the North Pacific — even though in the Pribilofs some gay soul, during the war, planted the sign: "Los Angeles City Limits." They really aren't out there, they're actually just before you reach Hollywood. But they had it in the Pribilofs. Los Angeles is a small village which is located very close to the Salton Sea. They have some interesting press relations with the rest of the world, but that's about all.

And then say, "Well, be here and be there and be someplace else." But you're already treating somebody who has a remarkable sense of location.

Anyway. Here we have, all across the line, automaticity. It's the right signal in the wrong place, making you reach for and try to attain a goal which geographically is not present. And when an automatic machine starts doing that, we get anxiety, demand for motion, feeling of danger in the environment. All of these things come right on in: tiredness, semiunconsciousness — all of these things. What are they coming out of? They're coming out of one of these darn pieces of machinery. That's all there is to it.

So let's just alter the technique and the understanding of the technique to a point where you can take in the fellow who's uncertain and then never pay any attention to whether people are uncertain about it or not. Don't validate all this uncertainty and "I don't know," and "Is he sure?" and so forth.

But the only machine on that whole channel that would count even vaguely is probably back there, for this body, a couple of hundred thousand or a couple of hundred million years someplace, where it's all indoctrinated, see? It's supposed to answer to a certain stimulus-response.

And if you were to take a Step V and you were just to ask him that and he did it — you see, very uncertain, very nebulous, as sure of his form — he's standing in back of his body with another body. You can ask him to put his hands on his body's shoulders sometimes. I find out they can usually do that. They put their hands — they've got a body, you see, a mock-up of a body, and they operate the second body instead of the first one.

Very early on the genetic line — even an anthropologist, a Darwinian, has long been recognizing this — that there's a sudden screech at night, and a fellow turns around and starts to go into action with his teeth or something. Very often he will roar.

Well, that's all very well, but you might have that case. And just on the chance that you might have that case, we'll just throw aside any opportunity to spoil that case. If a guy is well located, it's all right to say, "Now, are you back of your head?" See? That's all right — if he's well located.

By the way, did you ever do that? Be startled at night and turn around and yell? Roar like an animal? Something like that. I've seen people do it. They are jumped suddenly, or startled. Well, an automaticity goes on in the body which tries to repel things away from it with sound.

But supposing you took somebody that was a Step XVIII and you says, "All right, now, be three feet back of your head," and he was feeling pretty good that day, and he was, and then you said, "Are you there?"

Well, I imagine that you'd see that the fingernails tried to shoot out a little bit longer and get a little sharper right about the same time. Certainly this action happens: the palm of the hand develops sufficient sweat to permit a person to hold on easily to rock. And the soles of the feet develop sufficient moisture to be able to stick to what they're on, so that a person can get traction.

He says, "Oh, I don't know. Let's see, I don't see me anyplace. Well. . ." See, because his whole orientation is a complete dependency upon barriers in which he isn't. His orientation depends upon knowing where he is not.

And you find anybody who has moist hands, he's in a state of perpetual signal saying, "Danger. Danger." And the equipment for him to put the automatic machine into action isn't present. There's no bridge ladder. See, something like the automobile horn is saying, "GQ-GQ-GQ," and he isn't able to find the bridge ladder. So he's half-unconscious, he's stumbling around, he's in a state of what they laughingly call "nervous anxiety." It's just "unable to finish a cycle of motion." Not nervous anxiety, that's one of these complicated definitions — doesn't mean a thing. It's just this thing: He can't finish the started cycle of motion. This machine is set to start running at any time "signal X" happens in the environment, see? When signal X occurs from the individual or the environment, the machine starts running.

So if you're going to run this step generally and smoothly in a clinic where you're just going to start gunshotting people and not going to worry about their states of case beyond particularly this and that — you're just going to walk right in on this one. You're going to say, "All right, now be three feet back of your head. Are you in the upper right-hand corner of the room?"

Yeah, but the environment's shifted! And what do you know, man has progressed as well, in this society, as he has been able to continue to be cause over a changing environment. He's never adjusted to the environment. He's adjusted ahead of the environment, where he has survived. And so we have a continually changing environment, so the bridge steps are never present. The fellow is not in that locale all the time. The situation is never the same the second time.

Well, the fellow would kind of think — might be upset by the abruptness of the question, but he'd look at the upper right. . . "No. I'm not in it. What's the matter with you?"

So you get your overt act-motivator sequences. The situation: He's got a machine set up to whereby he's learned how to box. So when somebody takes a poke at his jaw, even though he's unconscious, why, he hits the other fellow in the solar plexus. See? That's an overt act. Now the other fellow goes down.

"Are you up in the right-hand corner?"

So someday, somebody comes along and hits him in the brisket, and he of course knows what he's supposed to do now. What? Go down. See, the other — it's — the machine's rigged so that's the way it happens, you see?

"No. I'm not in it."

But somebody, fellow — some fellow comes along someday and hits him like that, where's he supposed to fall? He's supposed to fall in the exact geographical location where the first time he dropped a guy. That's where he's supposed to fall. So ever since, he's trying to fall down on "spot X," which is a thousand miles away from where he is. He's never going to fall down on spot X, that's all. So an overt act-motivator sequence stays in suspension.

"Well, give me the back upper left-hand corner. You in it?"

The machinery of attack and offense, defense and getaway, and apology, is in continual restimulation. Just continual. So a fellow goes along the time track saying, "What time track? Where am I? Just — if I could just get my feet down someplace and say, 'This is X.' Ha-ha-ha! Maybe I'm supposed to pass out when I reach X. But that doesn't matter as long as I've at least got X." Because it takes X to get the machinery running again, see? Then he feels it'll all come out all right.

"No. No!"

But it's never going to. An automaticity never answers a second occasion. And the prime mistake that a thetan makes when he sets up all these beautiful gimmicks and gadgets, is that no matter how wonderful it was, it will never act for the second occasion.

"Are you in the floor? Are you under the chair?"

He puts machines away and forgets them so that they will act for a second occasion. But they never act for the second occasion. Some modified version — contradicted how many times, checked and counterbalanced — make it poorly workable the second time. And it goes on in this purely workable fashion.

"No. No. No. No."

You sit down at the wheel of a racing car, and if you've got lots of experience as a race driver — tremendous experience as a race driver — and you drive that car automatically, some kid is going to come along who's sixteen or seventeen and this is his second race, and although every veteran driver on the track is going to say, "My God, who let that goddamn fool on this track! He ought to be shot, outlawed, the three A's ought to throw him on his ear," and everything else, the kid still wins the race! Why?

All of a sudden, why, he announces to you without being asked, "I'm three feet back of my head." Or you can mention to him, "Be there."

Now, people go through this second stage — they realize that they have become too unalert. It's all too automatic. And they all of a sudden give the machinery a kick and step back and take a look at what they're doing. And just by the process of consciously doing it.

Now, there's a very covert way of running this. That, actually, is the best way of running it. But there's a very covert way of running it whereby you say — you just don't tell the fellow to be out of his body, you simply say, "Are you in the upper right-hand corner of the room? Upper left-hand corner of the room? Are you in the lamp?" you know? "Where are you not in this room?"

Here's a guy, he becomes a veteran driver. All of a sudden he realizes he just lost his fifth consecutive race. Something's wrong. Well sure, it's wrong. So he looks this thing over carefully and decides to drive in another fashion. And this time he decides to drive the car, not to rely on the training that old Bill Wheelwright slipped him when he was a kid, because that seems passe. He's now going to drive the car.

And let him name off a few places and look around and he names off a few more.

So he drives the next race and he's a little better. And then he consciously drives the next race, and he's a little better. And then he real consciously drives that next race, and the quivery feelings he was having by changing over style and things like that — these things are going by the boards. He isn't laying in another pattern. He's becoming more and more in command of the automaticity, simply by doing it in the mest universe.

And then you ask him a few more where he is not, and where he is not, and then you say, "Well, are you in your feet?"

If you can just coax somebody to climb up the side of the Empire State Building — outside it — he would lose, I assure you, about the fifth trip up, all fear of height. By doing what? He's just taking command of and keying out all of his machinery.

"No."

So, you see, we have this truth, sitting back of this, about training. But people think that this is training. That's not what's happened. The person sets up a machine to do something, then depends upon the machine, then the machine lets him down. Then he decides to hell with this automaticity and he simply decides from there on to be cause.

And, "Knees?"

For instance, I was taking your pictures there a short time ago. I had some of the most beautiful, beautiful photography machines you ever saw. I mean, I just — it was just gorgeous. I mean, they checked over everything automatically and saw that it was all right and it's all wrong and that the time was proper and the bulbs were set. It just checked it over beautifully. And then as time went on, why, the flashbulb wasn't in, the shutter was set at the wrong speed, and — I mean, what was happening? The machine was breaking down. Because the machine is only as good as the person is conscious of it, and no better. And as he becomes less and less conscious of the machine, he becomes worse and worse.

"No."

So all of a sudden I just decided to take pictures again. I go around and each time I look at the camera, I say, "How the hell does this thing work," see? Ss-ss, boom. "Well, and this is — slides, so on, that's right." Why? It's obvious how the mechanism works. You can look at it. You go around the front and you look in the lens to see if the shutter is open or closed. Not is the thing on "T" or a fiftieth of a second.

"Elbow? Either elbow?"

I would have royally loused up the picture I was taking of you this morning because the camera — this beautiful piece of automaticity — was jammed on wide-open, no matter where you turned the shutter. Well, immediately that you looked at the camera, you could see that the shutter blades were wide-open. This is immediately apparent. But if you looked at the dials that were supposed to tell you about some other dials, which are supposed to tell you about some other dials . . .

"No."

Reminds me of a fellow that taught me something about diesel engines one time. Yeah, we all had to learn something about diesel engines because diesel engines they made during the war didn't run. And they were stationary — they'd take big, huge, stationary, light-plant engines, you know, and strip all of the iron off them, supplant it all with aluminum, and then put them on a derrick and put them into a ship, and we run them at variable speeds. Ha-ha! Real cute trick. So you had engines 50 percent of the time. And sometimes even during an attack on submarines or something, your engines would keep going long enough for you to get away from the depth charges you just dropped. And the few times that engines would stop, well, ships were expendable because the navy yard and shipyard workers have to work, you see? So it all worked out for the best in this best of all possible worlds.

"Hand?"

But it is embarrassing when engines keep stopping like that. So they decided that anybody going aboard this new type of corvette was going to have to — to skipper one — was going to have to learn its engines too. This is an insult to — of any bridge man, you see?

"No."

But I got to listening to this guy. He was an enlisted man and he knew what he was talking about — almost synonymous. And this fellow had worked with these engines a long time. And he says, "Now," he says, "I want to teach you about gauges. I want to teach you all about these little 'pyrometers.' The name of the gauge is a pyrometer. It tells you hot — how hot the engine is. Now, you know that a diesel engine has to run at a certain heat level in order to produce enough combustion on the injection." So he says, "Now, you — this pyrometer, you put it up there — you can put up this pyrometer and," he says, "you pay close attention to the pyrometer." And he said, "And after you've carefully read the pyrometer, which tells you how hot the water is and so forth, and after you've gone around and read all the rest of the meters," he says, "then you go around and take a look at the engine." And he says, "You put your hand on the water intake pipe and find out how hot it is. Now," he says, "you should have a big tub sitting somewhere near the engine so that you can throw the valve open and fill the tub halfway in order to see how clean or how dirty the water is that's pouring through that thing, and whether or not you can put your hands in it. Then," he says, "you go around to the other end of the engine and you look at the bearings on it to see whether or not they have oil on them because this glints in the light." He says, "But be sure and read those meters!" (audience laughter)

"Shoulders?"

As a consequence of just that piece of instruction, we were all broken down outside of a harbor one day, and I kept yelling down at the engine room — trying to use words to effect something in this society, heh-heh! — and kept yelling at the engine room and finally said, "Oh, to hell with it," and went down there.

"No."

"Camshaft on the starboard engine won't budge. No oil. Must be bent. Must be warped."

"Nose?"

Just looked at it — nothing, nothing. "Nothing wrong — getting oil."

"No."

"Must be warped. That must be what's wrong with her."

"Chin?"

I said, "No. There's probably something dry on it, if it's not turning. It's probably frozen someplace along the line. Probably frozen."

"No."

"Well, if you did get it unfrozen, you couldn't do anything about it because this gauge over here that says it's getting oil. . ."

"Back of your head? Are you in the back of your head?"

I just remembered this guy just in time, see? And I took a look at this gauge, and sure enough, the engine was not running, and the oil pressure pump was not running — which the engineer has neglected to note — and the oil pressure gauge was reading sufficient pressure. Wasn't that cute! The pump wasn't running that gave it the pressure!

And the fellow's saying, "I don't know."

So I sent for a couple of big pipe clippers and cut the pipes of it off and jammed the two ends together on a piece of rubber hose so that no oil went through the gauge. And got a piece of crocus cloth and held it on the shaft, while somebody rotated the shaft down at the other end, took an oilcan and squirted it full of oil, we started the engine and it ran.

"Well, are you in front of your head?"

You know, after that I suddenly realized that everybody that went aboard one of those ships that wasn't willing to go down in the engine room every once in a while, would have trouble with his engines; and I never had trouble with another one of those engines. Never did have any more trouble with them.

"No."

Why? Because every once in a while I'd go down in the engine room and take a look at them. And they'd sit there and they'd run. Furthermore, I'd often go along the side of the ship and take a look at their exhaust ports, and if they started pouring out vast clouds of black or green or white smoke or something like that, why, I'd get on the phone and say, "What the hell is happening down there now?"

"Are you in the middle of your head?"

"Oh, sir, we — we just — we just turned on the — the air injector too quick. That's all. We won't do it again."

"No."

On the ball, see? Well, as long as a skipper was willing to let his engine room run automatically, his engine room didn't run. Why? Because you didn't have very many people that could run engines. Tells you any ship in which anybody's not interested goes to hell.

"Are you in the back of your head?"

And it tells you any body — body, now — in which the fellow isn't being cause twenty-four hours of the day, goes to hell. And I don't care whether you're talking about its eyesight or its liver or anything else, it goes to hell just like a ship because it's just a complex organism which is set up automatically.

"No."

Now, that doesn't mean that you should do all of your breathing. But it's a good thing, once in a while — what do you know — to stop your breathing and start it again. It'll make you live for a while, you know? Breathing machine is never going to go to pieces if you do it.

"Are you on the back of your head?"

I'll show you what I mean. If you — here's a beautiful example of automaticity.

"No."

Now, take a breath.

He's out of his head. How'd he get there? You just moved him out by a gradient scale of where he isn't. Because every time you asked him about this, he looked to see if he was there. Cute, huh? And then he found he wasn't there.

Mm-hm. Now let it out.

Now, you can take the darkest case that ever walked in and ask him to find four places he is not, in the darkness. He'll start to get somatics and things; because he knows he's not in the darkness, because he can see the darkness.

Now just take the normal kind of a breath that you take.

By the way, most occluded cases, you say, "Can you see anything?"

Now let it go a little quicker than you ordinarily do.

And they say, "No."

Now take another normal breath.

You say, "Close your eyes. Can you see anything?"

Now let it go.

And they say, "No."

Now take another normal breath.

And you say, "Now look, close your eyes. Now look around and see if you can see anything."

Now let it go.

They tell you, "No."

Another normal breath.

Well, don't pick up an inkstand, an ashtray, a lamp and hit them with it. Say, "Now, come on, can you see anything — black or white or blur . . ."

Now let it go.

"Oh, well, yes. I got tremendous clouds of blackness."

Normal breath.

They never looked at it before. That's anything, that's something. See, and they keep telling you, "No, I can't see a thing. No, I can't see a thing."

Now let it go.

They're looking right straight at huge white clouds or huge black clouds or blurred fields or something, right straight on through. See that? That's real silly. They are looking at something — they're looking at a black field. Well, there's something.

Now take a normal breath and hold it a little longer.

All right. As soon as a case suddenly decides that everything is black when he's got his eyes closed, and he's very befuddled as to why you're beating him around about looking — he'll be in the corners of the room with his eyes shut — why, he will generally fess up and tell you, "Well, the field is black. It's black, I can't see anything." Providing you've run this exteriorization type of drill — locational drill. You've made him look or feel enough so that he is aware of — he has some sense of location. He knows he is not somewhere. Well, boy, that's more than he knew two seconds before you asked this question.

Now refuse to let it go.

And this is good enough when applied to past, present and future, in brackets — this little technique of "Where are you not? Who is not here? Who is not in the past? Who" — so on. "What other people aren't here that think some­body else is here?" That, by the way, is — you very often get a little flip on that because that's the rest of the bracket. When you ask all around the clock on this, that's a good enough technique — that's one of these "all by itself" techniques — that's a good enough technique to fish Homo sapiens out of his spinbin.

And let it go. (pause)

Now, you understand the process? The process is "Where are you not in the past? Where are you not in the present?" And "Where are you not in the future?"

What's happened to your breathing now? Did you go on having to breathe? Huh? Did it really lapse back into automaticity or just go on breathing? Or did you have to go on breathing?

Now, there's something else: "Where aren't you thinking?" must accompany this, to a person who is having any slightest difficulty. Because they may be thinking all over the place.

I'm very unwilling that upsets your breathing for the rest of the day. But do you see that I very well could, with that process? It could just set it up for the next month — you'd have to remember to take every breath. Boy, you'd consider this a real hardship. And you'd say, "Well, gosh, all of my attention would be occupied, then, with breathing."

We've been using a phrase to characterize this, which is "buttered all over the universe." Somebody's buttered all over the universe. Well, you collect him by finding out where he isn't. And when you first start in, you'll find the damnedest things are — in some cases are present, and other people are present, and he's in the past and there isn't anyplace in the past where he's not. And he'll start agreeing with you. You — and one of the methods of using this, by the way, is picking apart the childhood home. All right. "Are you in the linoleum of the kitchen of your childhood home?"

Oh, would it? You mean you'd have that much more attention, is what it means. Anytime you can find something to put your attention on that you're regulating, you have that much more attention. And nobody ever realized that — they think it's the reverse. They think attention is a finite quantity. They think a fellow is born with two and a half quarts of attention.

The fellow will say, "Yup." Be the normal reaction. I mean, that's normal, almost.

You can get, finally, so that you can go clear across the boards with this. You can make the heart beat. You can make the blood flow. You can do all of these things.

"Are you in the wall closet?"

Mystics in — not mystics, but the lads over in the mountains over in India used to do this. Well, they did it wrong way to, and to the opposite ends of the poles, as far as I could see, when I was a kid. They would take over these functions, one by one. Yogi is the process of trying to take over these functions. They try to make this the end-all and regainment of. And then they write a book saying, "The various centers of awareness of the body are . . ." And then they name seven of them, and one is the serpent and one is the dog, and it's very interesting and very complex.

"Yes. Yeah."

But one's the "corona" and I don't know whether they thought the corona was the thetan or not, but I know there is a ball of fire in where they say the corona is, that used to be an old eye. And here we have the — how to actually liberate these centers. You start at the furthest one from the thetan, and they bog you down with the problem of can you exteriorize an entity? Urrrr! By the time anybody has worked on one and two and three and four — you see, he's number seven — why, he's got himself so doggone thoroughly out of control and in restimulation that he'll never get out of his body.

"Are you in the window in the front room — in the glass itself?"

It's very simple. I know, because I worked this. I just — with malice afore­thought. I saw the book of the chakra and looked it over and — oh, gosh, I must have been about fifteen — I got real curious about it, I started asking people about this darn book. And I ran across it not too long ago — gorgeous pictures and so forth — ran across it and I said, "I wonder ... Now, that's very interesting. It's very funny that a person answers up on the meter to the names given to these areas. And the meter bongs every time you answer him up on one. It's very curious."

"Yes. Ow!"

And so I started to exteriorize somebody in that band — they didn't talk about exteriorization, they merely talked about the rehabilitation of that center. Well, I thought, "Well, the best rehabilitation that center could have is give it a boot. So let's just exteriorize it one right after the other on up the line." And I got to center number three and the whole case fell in on me. I was doing it very nicely too, very carefully, well within the Auditor's Code and everything else. Real grim. In other words, it really pinned the fellow down.

You found him. He, fifteen minutes, at two years of age, had his hand pinned down under a window which had dropped on his hand. Scared stiff. And he's been there ever since. You sprung him. Sometimes you have to be terribly covert to get them out of places — you have to name the most unlikely spots.

It's like Bishop Sheen the other night. (He doesn't have very much sheen, so don't hold it against him.) He was talking about everybody had to have a hard head and a soft heart. The brain had to become solid. That was it. And what God really wanted people to have was a completely solid brain and a completely soft heart. Now, this is great. I mean, this is wonderful allegory. The only trouble is, that seems to be straight into the teeth of clearing, isn't it? And, of course, no tradition has ever come down the line that people mustn't be free! There mustn't be such a — never would be, naturally. I mean, nobody of that character who was trying to sell saints would ever try to unconvince other people that they weren't. So, you see, naturally, that supposition is very libelous against the Church.

Now, that's just "Where you are not," past, present and future. Now, you could actually just go right ahead and clean up a whole track on this negative location. Take you a long time. But it'd be a technique which would carry you through. It'll snap out somatics, so on.

That's an inverted seventh dynamic. Very often you don't get anyplace with an inverted seventh dynamic unless you waste ghosts. Somebody's been into spiritualism, something, well, you waste ghosts in brackets. All right.

The fellow says, "I have a headache."

Now, we're not off the subject two inches when we're talking about this. Because we're talking about Step II and we're talking about automaticity. When this fellow — you ask this fellow to get out of his body, he — who has gone into very deep automaticities, and he's actually down below III or IV or V, you wouldn't ordinarily do very much to this case but just go on down the line. Except with Clinical Procedure. And you have to know all this about all the case levels on a Step II basis.

You say, "All right. Where don't you have a headache?"

In other words, what is Step II to all cases? Well, Step II to all steps is the automaticity of that step. And somebody who cannot bring himself to discard this much automaticity — one body — is going to require a little more work before he exteriorizes. And that's what Step II tells you, and that's why: "Mock up the person's body. Mock up his body. Mock up his body."

"Where don't I have a headache? In my feet, of course."

Normally, if you just kept on mocking up his body for five or ten minutes, he'd exteriorize. If you just kept this up — unless he's in the effort band. You got to put lots of effort into things, you got to just get him so he's real good on effort and thinkingness into everything under the sun. And when he's real good at that, he'll be able to exteriorize. Because why? He can't work, because the body does all the work.

"Well, all right. Do you have a headache in your feet?"

And the one common denominator of all cases difficult to exteriorize; the one common denominator, difficult to exteriorize — and below that level, what they have called neurotic, psychotic personalities — they have one common denominator that goes clear across the boards is, is they can't put out much effort. And the less effort a case can put out, the worse communication the case is in — communication state the case is in — and the less he will exteriorize. Can you follow this? He can't put out effort if he can't handle effort. So when you get a case there, he is either fixed on the idea that he's got to handle effort — in other — he's got to work, he's got to put out effort, or he's in a position where he can't anymore. So you fall into the two categories of work, which immediately mean effort. And there is your index. There is a beautiful index.

"No!"

You ask this person to discard a piece of automaticity. What automaticity are you asking him to park off of there for just three minutes or two minutes or one minute? You're asking him to park that piece of automaticity called a body off there. If he can't put it away from him four or five feet for a minute or so, believe me, he thinks he has to have it to do practically everything for him. It has to think for him and work for him and sweat for him and do the emoting for him. And he gets convinced on this one way or the other, and the thing for you to do is simply to bust the conviction.

"Well, do you have a headache in your right ear?"

Now, we can actually actively bust a case and run a case with just Steps I and II. But we can't take one of these steps and carry it along independently of the other step because we keep running into the machinery. We ask this

"No."

"Left ear?"

And he says, "I'm looking — I must be looking at a facsimile of the body, but I — I know the body is out there someplace. I'm certain I'm outside, but I just can't really see the body very well and I don't quite know several things about the body," you know? He's just in a situation there where he has a failure because of a machine that hands him facsimiles rather than hand him the real McCoy.

"No."

Now, you can go complete reverse and say there's a reason for it. Anytime you say, though, that there's a reason first and an action second, you're trying to reverse and invert this "Looking-as-condensed-feeling Scale." See? You're saying the thinkingness down here is senior to the effort which is immediately above it. See? So the reason for: this fellow doesn't want to get out of his body, so he does so-and-so. Oh, that's a fallacy, it's a fallacy. You're making a mistake when you do that.

"Do you have a headache in the back of your neck?"

He doesn't have any reason why he wants to get out of his body — he's lost all of his reasons. He's got lots of reasons now, and he'll tell you lots of reasons, but these are justifications and they're merely after the fact. And the fact is, one, he starts to lose himself geographically by setting up automaticities. In other words, he keeps looking around for the bridge ladders and the bridge ladders aren't there. See that? He's nowhere there is a bridge ladder anymore.

"Well, slightly."

There are people all over here who are thoroughly trained for space opera. Oh, just gorgeously trained for space opera. They're gorgeously trained to be couriers on another planet. They're just wonderfully trained and their bodies are wonderfully trained to be hunters. And the only thing they can hunt is something in a hat and silk stockings now. Nothing to hunt, see? Here are all these mislocated beings: They're mislocated in place and they're mislocated in time, and the culture is not the kind of a culture they're trained to be located in, and so they're completely lost. And they've been saying for thousands of years, "Where the hell am I?"

"Well, do you have a headache in your collarbones?"

That's the first thing anybody says when he's been knocked over his head. You could drive a little dog insane simply by banging him on the head, and while he was unconscious, moving him into the next room and standing him on his head in the corner and letting him come to in that fashion. The little dog, the rest of his life, would go around saying, "You know, I didn't go — I — I just know I didn't go out with my head down in that corner in that room." So the two places are trying to be collapsed by these two dogs. He's here, while he's here, but this first room must be then this second room.

"No."

The dirtiest thing you could do to a guy is slip an anesthetic mask over his face in one room, operate on him in another room and let him wake up in a ward. Why not just shoot him? Unless he gets processing he's going to be lost for the rest of time. Where? Just where you found him stuck on the time track — in an operation or something of the sort or in an accident. All right.

"Well, do you have a headache in the back of your neck?"

The fellow hits with a terrific impact, goes unconscious, and the plane or the car bounces and goes someplace else, and then somebody drags him out of the thing while he's unconscious, and they put him in a car and they drive him to some town. No wonder when people have been knocked out, the first question they ask is, "Where am I?" First question they can think of when they come back. Because they've got a machine — all their machinery is set to go on geographical locations and positions; and as soon as they're transferred suddenly from one geographical location to another geographical location, they lose their sequence of positions. And when their sequence of positions are gone, they can no longer get from one stage of the machinery to another stage of the machinery, and the automaticity is lost and so they must be somebody else. They're living another life.

"No."

Death to another life is just that mechanism and no other mechanism. Now, this person — you ask this person, "Well now, if people have lived before, why, they of course know their name and so forth." Well, no, they don't even know where they went to school in the former life. I mean, they're bad off.

"Do you have a headache in your chin?"

Here they've got all this automatic education which goes into fine furor and fury every time they try to study something. You know, it just blasts them. Now all of a sudden this person, they just can't study arithmetic. They — no accounting for this, see, and can't study arithmetic. Well, if you went back down the track or something or other, they were one of the most well-known authorities on Newton or something of this sort at some other university in some other time.

"Nobody has 'headaches in your chin.' What's the matter with you?"

Arithmetic be damned, they were mathematicians. You start them up now with new stimulus-response mechanisms, new automaticity; the second he starts to make arithmetic automatic — he's all right as long as he's still cause where the arithmetic is concerned — he starts to make it automatic so that he knows the multiplication table automatically and pang! he loses his geographical positions because he's already lost them on the subject of mathematics. These geographical positions mix. He thinks he's, after that, someplace else with regard to arithmetic. He can't study arithmetic. He goes mad. You say, "One plus one equals what?"

"All right. Do you have a headache in your nose?"

And he says, "Six, I guess. Is that right?"

"Mm, no."

See what happens on automaticity and mixture of geographical positions. You can't take the subject of automaticity and throw away the subject of geo­graphy. And the only place you lose an automaticity, become really unconscious of one, is when you set one up in position A and start using it from position B. And your preclear that's holding on to some part of the track, is trying to hold on to the connective sequence between his automaticities, so he doesn't lose his sequences of geographical positions.

"Well, do you have a headache?"

If you restore to him his sequences of geographical positions, they can fall into line. Then the time track unravels, and all of his machinery stretches out into time where it belongs.

"No. Wait!" (audience laughter)

I don't know how long it would take to do this, but it's plenty long.

You just put him in present time by calling his attention on negative reac­tion to present time. That's real covert, isn't it?

(Recording ends abruptly)

Well, it's not a technique that wears out. Now many, many of the older techniques used on somebody once or twice would find him in a null. In other words, he'd learn how to resist these techniques. Actually, we ought to call 8-C "American procedure," because Americans are far faster at figuring out and countering effect. Now, that's the only difficulty I've been having since I came back. And so I just boosted it all up into techniques which can't be nulled. And that one can't be nulled.

Also there is the technique we have, and are using right this minute on blackness, cannot be nulled. And the reason why: It is the reason there is blackness. It is the specific reason there is blackness.

Now, there's the specific reason why people aren't exteriorized, is the one which you're doing as a drill right now. Sensation — you've got to be an effect. So we just get rid of that. And we'll get rid of that.

By the way, somebody asked me yesterday ... I hope he doesn't mind if I tell this story. Where is he? Well, aha! Somebody missing a lecture?

Male voice: His fault.

Mm-hm. Just like that. All right, we'll tell it on him! That's always a good time — that's always the way to get somebody to come to a lecture. It's like the old boys — nobody'd ever leave the barbershop first.

Well, anyway, plugging along — "When are we going to get into some actual processing?" he says.

And I said, "You are doing actual processing."

"Well, no, no," he said, "I mean real, real actual processing."

"But you are doing actual processing now. This is actual."

"Now," he says — walk along a little bit further, and he says, "why don't you clean up the cases first and then give the data afterwards?"

And I said, "You have the specific data right now which you are using to clean up cases. Now that's what we're doing, we're cleaning up the cases first and we're going to get into theory afterwards."

Very unconvinced. He was very unhappy about this. He sat around the waiting room for a few minutes sort of champing a little bit and snarling quietly to himself. He goes into room one — you guys know what happened; he all of a sudden — never seen a wall on this technique.

He'd always looked at a facsimile which was standing immediately in front of the wall. Outside of the fact that this was — for the first time had returned to him an actual mest contact, we weren't getting anywhere with processing. But he'd only had two or three hours of the stuff and he was seeing mest. All right, that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? That's actual processing.

So you're apt to treat these techniques as being very light. Because they are very high echelon, but they are very pervasive and they are not nulled. Now, you can't null these techniques. The only way you can null them is just refuse to answer. Just refuse to act. Just sit there rigidly and say, "I won't. I won't. I won't." And then you'll run that out. So that's why I say that we should call this "American procedure," because we're down to a basis of "What can't you know?" — not "What can't you know" but "What can't you null?" It's very important.

All right, so we've got this past, present and future. The reason why a person doesn't escape this technique easily is because they get too interested. Because there is their primary interest: their primary interest is where they are. You see, they're mainly interested in that, the second they become interested in barriers. And they're much more interested in not being places — if you're going to get a case that's going to resist processing, they're much more interested in not being places than they are in being places. So you've just agreed with them a hundred percent across the boards. They practically feel like gripping you by the hand and pumping it up and down for half an hour without stopping. Boy, you really get agreement right there with your pc: "Now, where are you not?"

"I'm not at home. Ha-ha!"

All right. Now, there's two tricks that go along with this one which you should know. Location — you'll need these; you won't think right now in this class that you need them, but you'll need them sooner or later — is "Negative Location by the Impossible." Now, it sounds like an impossible title, but you'd better call it that because you're liable to skip it. And that is "Are you in the office next door" or "Is your body in the office next door while it is in the dentist's office?"

The fellow says, "No, of course not."

But you might have been beating your brains out for ten minutes trying to find out where he was not during that operation or during that period of time, see? And then all of a sudden you have to just resort to the impossible in order to give him a certainty. And that certainty carries him forward. Impossible, see?

"All right. Were you in 1930 while you were in 1950?

"Well, I don't know."

"Well, all right. Were you in 1900 while you were in 1930?"

"Huh! Well, I don't know. Might have been. Let's see, 1900 . . ."

"Well, was your body in 1210 while you were going to college in 1940?"

"No. Of course not." (See? Now, you have to get that wide out some­times.) "No."

So you've got location by the impossible. Now you just start narrowing it down. And he starts spotting himself all over the time track, see? Real, again, covert — it's by the impossible.

And the other mechanism is that it's "by the incredible," which is, is his body lying on the ceiling during the operation?

"No."

All of a sudden you'll find out the fellow has no body in this operation. He's told you — the E-Meter — you've done an assessment on this case. This case got real sticky on you, you see, and so you did what you should have done in the first place, only we never seem to do it, is break out the E-Meter and just start naming dates. You know, and all of a sudden the E-Meter goes whong! And then you start naming different kinds of people that have been associated with him — children, women, men, so on — until you get a pong. And then you run that down and you chase it down — a date. In other words, you're finding out where he's stuck, where is he latched up on the track.

Remember Book One didn't happen to be wrong, it just didn't readily solve immediately this, because its techniques could be nulled by a preclear. That's the only disadvantage it had. But he — they're still stuck on the track somewhere and sometimes you'll process all over the place madly and find the case keeps slumping. Well, why does the case keep slumping? Well, he's stuck on the track and you've never freed him.

Well, you have to really address the incident where he is stuck. There's some other reason why he's stuck. He's fresh out of space and all sorts of things that a lot of indirect techniques — which will free him eventually, but you just get sick and tired of this case. A case has to be real bad off in order to do this. You do yourself a thorough assessment, find out what date he's stuck in. Just that, what date? And if you can't find it immediately this life, well then, damn it, what life?

He'll all of a sudden give you this wonderful piece of data that he should have given you very, very early in the session and that was, namely, he is always sitting there looking at his grandfather's face in the coffin. He has this visio all the time. Well, and he thought probably everybody had it, see? Everybody sitting there looking at Grandfather's face in the coffin. Doesn't strike him as unusual. It's too concentrated an attention so he can't think of where his attention's concentrated. You see that? So you find out where he's stuck on the track, and now you have to enter the incredible. If you said, "Are you there in the coffin with Grandfather?"

"Yep. Sure."

"Well, is Grandfather's body on the ceiling?"

"No. It's in the coffin. It's not on the ceiling."

"Is it in the lampshade?"

"No, it's in the coffin!"

You finally get Grandfather's body well enough located — so sure enough located — by the incredible; just by having it in the wrong places. You see, the impossible is to have two different times or two entirely different spaces simultaneously. The incredible is just to have in a space or a time which is not quite possible.

So he finally gets Grandfather's body to the grave, and then gets the town back where it should be, a thousand miles away. But you find out if he's in the coffin. Well, you can't.. . He'll tell you yes, he's in the coffin. Well, is he in the lamp? No, he's not in the lamp there.

By the way, I've found people in very weird places. I have found them in a picture in the living room. Found them all over the place, see? I found them in a picture of the living room. And the childhood home is the worst offender. It's a bad enough offender that, very often, if a case is starting to get laggardly or a little sticky on me, something like that, I'll just simply take the childhood home and start beating it up. You know, "Are you in the woodwork? Are you under the front porch? Are you in the chimney?" and so on. "Where are you not? Where are you not? Where are you not? Where are you not? Are you in the dish cupboard?" And you all of a sudden find out he's in strange places, in that moment. You'll find out you narrow it down to the room, and then you narrow the room out. And every once in a while you have to jump in with a new impossible. "All right, are you in the living room while you're in the dining room?"

"No. That's two places. Impossible."

"Well, all right. Are you in the childhood home? When was it built?" you say.

"Oh, it was built about 1890, I guess."

"Well, are you in the childhood home in 1870?"

"No, obviously — it wasn't built."

So that's very tricky auditing. You'll see more of that. But actually, it's very simple auditing even though it permits a lot of imagination to be used.

And remember it's used in a bracket. "Who else isn't present?" Well, by golly, you'd be amazed how many preclears have somebody else right there in front of them.

Now, there's another method of dispensing with this. It's just "certain they're present; certain they're not present." That's in 16-G. This is a better method, this method I'm giving you. You just have — "Well, is this person in Washington, DC?"

"No."

The person is present, they've just told you that.. . You just start going over the family. You've done an assessment and you've added up all the relatives and everything, and you just start going through them and you say, "Is so and so here? Is so and so here? Is so and so here?" You find their stuck moments this way too. You say, "Is your grandmother in the room?"

"Yes."

"Grandfather in the room?"

"Yes."

"Is your dog in the room?"

"Yes."

"Is your aunt Martha in the room?"

"It seems like everybody's in the room," they'll say. "Yeah. Full of people."

One case I had recently — there's one I was running to develop this procedure on how far south can you get, and I went as far south as I could get. When I hit that technique, I had: "Is there a TWA aeroplane, 10,000 feet up, on the chair immediately beside you?"

And the answer was, "Yes."

Huh? Real cute, huh? So we had to have her practically — we had her feel all over the chair and finally — then she tried to turn it all off by saying, well, she was just kidding. She wasn't kidding — that room was full of people when we started out, and we got it emptied. How? By making her feel all over the place and make sure. Well, her case did a quite remarkable — not an alteration physically, it did an alteration on the basis of orientation. The case is blind, so orientation is of the utmost importance there.

Well, you find these people that will surprise — even some of you right now when I say, "Is your dog in this room?" (pause) And who got a "yap-yap-yap"? (audience laughter)

So you see that? You just get places parked in the proper places. And it doesn't take very long. And I don't run this technique very long in order to produce a result with it.

"What other person here thinks somebody else is with them?" And that's a real weird one. You start — really, straight out — you just start stripping out entities by you doing that. Until you've asked that question, it never turned up that Grandma was present all the time. Well, Grandma is there, and she thinks Grandpa is there. And this was when the old lady was sort of senile, she used to go around talking to her departed husband and the kid heard them all the time and this was quite impressive. So the kid sort of kept Grandma when Grandma departed this life, and Grandma is keeping Grandpa, and here we go, see? And it opens on that third bracket, third part of the bracket. All right.

"What person present doesn't think you're here?" is another variation.

And they're liable to say, "The auditor." Quite routinely, people will say — "Well, who isn't here?" and quite routinely, just almost give as a flash answer: "The auditor." See? Almost as a flash answer. I — it probably has deep significance, but I've always neglected it.

That's location: "Who isn't in the past? Who isn't in the future? Who isn't in the present?"

Now, you want to know where they are and also where they are thinking. Got that? "Where aren't they thinking in the present?"

"Oh," the fellow says, "all around." He's got some sort of machine that lets him think elsewhere when he is there — when he thinks he might be there. And oh, he's all around.

"Well, are you thinking down at city hall?"

"Yeah."

"Are you thinking in 1892?"

"Yeah."

"Are you thinking . . ." you say, "Ulp! Are you thinking in last August?"

"Mm, yeah."

"Are you thinking in this room? (pause) Well, are you thinking in your head?"

"No."

"Are you thinking in your body?"

"No."

This is what's known as a negative dynamic. "All the way out" on spir­itualism produces that one. They're not in their body, and that's one place where they are not, only that's the only place they've got to think with. And you have to do quite some considerable coaxing, you have to go a long way out and start chipping it off and so forth, and they'll finally find out they're thinking in their head. They're just working with so darn much automaticity, that the one place they're not thinking is where they are thinking. See, a complete reversal. That's an inversion. So you'll run into that problem every once in a while. Not a very important problem. You just strip it off. All right.

"Are you thinking in . . ." There's another category there, and that's "by the dangerous" — where are they not, by the dangerous — dangerous location.

"Are they in the middle of a cutting machine?"

"No."

"Are they in the Camden sewer system?" Well, they might be.

"Well, are you down in the powerhouse, glued to the switchboard. Is that where you're thinking?"

"Oh, no!" (Big certainty, see?)

"Are you thinking in the — around the corona of the sun and into the corona of the sun?"

"No, no."

"Are you thinking in the Bureau of Standards chill room where they have a 273 degrees below zero centigrade?"

"Do they have one down there?" they'll say.

"Yep."

"No. I'm not thinking there."

See? And that gives you, by the way, the immediate clue as to how people take an impact. See, that immediate clue. That's why people prefer an impact. It tells them where they are not because it puts a dangerous place they mustn't be. And these people who have been having a tough time gathering themselves up and keeping themselves in one piece prefer to be driven into one piece. They think they have to be driven into one piece. They're in one piece in the first place. All right — or in six or eight or a hundred billion, as they prefer.

Now, all you're doing there is discovering where the preclear is by letting them discover where they are not. And the modus operandi of the whole process is just on the basis that he can't be where he is looking at. And you'll find out that people have big trouble with the body, and when you ask them to step out of their head and immediately look at the body, you very often completely collapse a case. They can't see their body. Well, you're asking them to see the one thing they've never seen. See, they can look at mirrors, do all sorts of things — tricky techniques involved with this, but nothing very workable. But they've never seen their body, they don't know what they look like, and it's a great surprise to them what they do look like.

Did you ever show anybody a photograph of his own profile? If you have, you will get some idea of what would be his reaction when you exteriorized him. Because he always tells you that doesn't look like him. He has never seen his own profile. He doesn't customarily stand and look at mirrors which converge and show him his profile. He has an entirely different idea of what he looks like.

In consequence, you ask him, "Look at the body," the surprise is generally too much for him, and he will immediately occlude it and shut it off. And then the body goes occluded, and then he pops back in and goes in kind of apathy about the whole thing. So you don't ask him to look at the body. Ordinarily, if you have any doubts about the case at all, why, you just don't ask him to look at the body. Not for a long time, not until you — you pop him out, if you can, right away, and then, "Where is he not?" Then if he doesn't go out, you say, "Where is he not?" You see that?

You do this anyway, and that gets him localized. And that's by location — location where he's not — and you'll find out that he's most not in locations that are dangerous to him, he feels.

And then he's in, then, those that are incredible to him: like, is he under the mattress on the upstairs bed? And he knows he's not there. He thinks that's silly of you to ask, but of course, he immediately turns up a little more horsepower — immediately afterwards. He can't quite account for this, but he does. All right.

The next part of location that you would want anything to do with is simply — actually, it goes on down to Step VII, which, of course, is, "What room?" — that's by actual contact. Now, we don't, however, have to treat that; because we are treating it with putting emotions into and out of things as a technique, which although we're covering it in advance, and very early in the case, it is not an early technique in the procedure itself.

So the next point is, you have him actually be in places after you've found places he is not in. You have him be in various places. He's out of his head and you get him — little unpleasant places, you know, under the radiator where it's kind of dusty or under the bed or under the icebox or back of the chimney or something of the sort. That'd be about the limit of the dangerous places you'd send him into.

Then you send him into very pleasant places. And you finally send him into more and more dangerous places, actually be in these dangerous places, until eventually he's perfectly willing to be in any of these places.

But quite often a case, you will discover, is unable to be in very many places. So you have to build this up by a gradient scale. And you've asked him to be in a place, and he can't be in that place, then you have some place very similar to it, but one tiny shadow of it, and you just build him on through into the place. In other words, if you couldn't possibly get him into the corona of the sun immediately, so forth, you could at least get him to mock up a candle and be near its flame and then finally be out near a gas stove that's being on and then finally into a gas stove.

And the technique of being in the corona of the sun finally is achieved by being what? Just gradient scale on up the line. A very simple process. A process I could very easily talk too much about — very easily.

Now, you should know this part of this process on Step I. You should know it quite well and you should become able to use it quite well. Because if you're going to do any coffee — what you call "coffee shop auditing," you know, you meet this fellow and he says — you ask him how he is and he tells you that he has a neck pain, and he expects you to turn it off or something of the sort — well, this is the fastest, easiest way to do it. That's no kidding. "Where isn't he?" And you can run "Where isn't he?" all over the darn track. And quite rapid in the therapeutic value, if you're going into therapy of aches and pains.

That's a dirty trick, by the way. If you only knew how a thetan has to work to get a little bit of an ache or a pain and then you, you beast, comes along and turns it off! Psychotherapy went into complete apathy on this. They said, "No" — they made this announcement many times — "No psychosomatic illness is curable because the person simply becomes psychosomatically ill in some other manner." Apathy, apathy, apathy, apathy, apathy, apathy. End of paragraph. Apathy, apathy, apathy.

The fact of the matter is, the remedy for the situation is a very easy remedy. You just make it possible for him to get walloping big loads of tremendous, creaking agony, and he won't bother with having a little old — little old psoriasis or something like that, that occasionally gives him a twinge. He's interested in having a satisfactory amount of pain. Well, if he can't manufacture it — a satisfactory — pardon me, an "acceptable state of ill health" in this society. How wrong can you get? Homo sap. You have to be a little bit wrong to be polite, and it goes down from there. You have to be a little bit sick to be acceptable. People figure this.

And you start running Acceptance Level Processing — which is an educational on a process — and you start running it, you know, and my God, Papa and Mama, the only thing that was acceptable to them was a sick child. The only time they ever were nice was when the child was sick — horrible state. All right.

That's a rundown on this locational material there. This can become very, very complex. But, by golly, learn its simplicity.

All you're doing is getting relationship of the individual with regard to barriers. And it's achieved by getting barriers which he isn't in. And then you can have him around in barriers, and he'll know he's in them. See? Tricky.

But remember all the time you're running this, that you're only running barriers and validating barriers so he can recover the barriers which he has validated, and which he has then had invalidated for him to a point where he lost them. And you've recovered a barrier for him good and strong, don't just dust your hands off and say you got this barrier strong. He knows the barrier's there. Then we get onto the technique that you're doing right now: you finally get him to a point where he knows he's putting it there. And that's the drill which you're doing these first couple, three days.

Well, you got to get it real good. Because, you see — not just emotion, that isn't our goal there. We're going to get so we can put the barrier there, where we can move the wall of that room around, so we can not have it there and have it there and so on. That's what we're trying to do.

All right. Step II of this will, of course, be the subject of the next lecture.