Thank you very much. My apologies for keeping you waiting. Actually, Stanley was keeping me waiting, even while he was right here in the room.

Well, this is the supernumerary lecture. The 31st lecture and — of the 1st Melbourne ACC and you thought I was just going to come in and say, "Well, folks, you've had it. Goodbye. And gradually, as you sink into the mire, I will be thinking of you."

But the fact of the matter is, is I can tell you a few more things and I might as well do so, of course, if you want to hear them.

Audience: Yes!

All right. Very good, then I'll consider that as an invitation.

Now, I received a note this morning asking me something about "process." I distinctly remember covering it in about eight or nine separate lectures.

So, when these tapes are played through again for this unit, listen to them. And you'll find now, that you know enough about what you're doing, to know that you don't know anything. Now, that's a big gain, never look on it as anything else. Right.

As soon as you decide that you don't know anything about some particu­lar line of action, why, then you could know something about it. Got the idea? Audience: Yes.

The basic text of this course is Scientology 8-8008. The first lectures which immediately precede this course were the Philadelphia Lectures of fall 1952 — 64 hours of lecture. They're the immediate lectures which instantly precede this course. So, you see, we've done an awful jump on the time track. Do you see that?

Audience: Yes.

All right. You can look in Scientology 8-8008 and find a great many of the things I have been talking about.

But the reason this has been a sensational gain is because I have found the anatomy of havingness. And you've been listening all about havingness here for weeks. And probably haven't even recognized that I was talking about havingness and what happens to it. The factor of havingness is the only saving grace a thetan has.

Works like this: An auditor starts chopping up a pc, the pc's havingness goes down — completely aside from the ARC breaks and all the rest of that sort of thing — havingness goes down because he makes the pc individuate. Havingness goes down. The pc becomes more separate. Havingness reduces because the pc has been driven out into a further separateness. He's not been included as part of the auditing session. Rough auditing, invalidation and that sort of thing reduce havingness. Taking things away from somebody reduces havingness.

The only reason you feel bad about a relative dying is loss of havingness, loss. Loss is practically the totality of all black cases, invisible cases, spin­ning cases. The keynote of it is loss. This is all old material.

If you want somebody to turn on a black field, he had perfectly good pictures — probably dub-in, but — or something. It'd have to be a dub-in case to really have this happen, but if you want to bring him up a notch, see, all you've got to do is have him concentrate on having lost something. And you can very often turn the case black. Just turn it black as the ace of spades. Which is an experimental procedure, not a clinical or auditing procedure.

And that tells you this: that a black case is black because of loss. Loss of what? Loss of havingness.

So havingness is just as important as it's ever been but nobody could have told you, and there was unfortunately nobody around to tell me, as usual, what this thing havingness was all about.

It's kind of obvious, you know, you could have something, and you could not have something, and after you've lost something you can't have it and so on. But why did cases respond so badly when their havingness was reduced?

Now, rough auditing, actually, reduces havingness, by introducing sepa­rateness. The world at large as the time stream goes tearing along gets many people in the frame of mind of loss loss loss loss loss. It isn't one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, four o'clock; it's loss loss loss. Every time another minute goes by, they've lost something. They've lost the whole universe. They get to looking on it on the negative side, see. They don't ever realize that they have a new universe.

I straightened out a case one time with experimental procedure — very famous person by the way.

I said, "Close your eyes. Okay. Now open them up and find a brand-new world. Thank you. Now, close your eyes. Good. Open them up and find a brand-new world."

And I just kept this up for about a half an hour. The case shifted all over the place. Ran into the case two or three years later, it had considerable auditing in the meantime and had made gains and all of that sort of thing, it was still saying, "That was the most wonderful process I ever had in my life!" It was just reversing this time cycle, you see?

Instead of every successive second the person feels he's lost the whole universe, I made him in every successive second find he had found one.

Of course, you have to have a high level of trust and confidence that the universe is going to arrive with that next minute.

And cases that have great difficulty can't actually believe that there is any future. And when they believe there's no future, that means they're not going to get anything, that means they have to hold desperately onto everything they've got. And it balls their time track up because they're holding onto the facsimiles which represented yesterday's universe. Because there won't ever be a tomorrow universe. I see a few chests sighing here. Is that right? Never will be?

One might say the basic of anatomy of a bank is that mechanism by which a thetan reassures himself that there has been one. That's all he's got left. That's all he's got left of being Pharaoh.

But a great oddity sets in. If that's all he's got left of being Pharaoh, then why in the name of common sense does he have Pharaoh's death but no live pictures of Pharaoh? Well, that doesn't make sense.

And we run into innumerable questions. Why does he do this? What is this all about? What are these factors that we're dealing with here that give us such a fantastic twist? Person mocked up obsessively and continually, a picture of everything he had felt, seen or heard, so that he could stack it up on a time track, and then have yesterday's universe, because he knew he probably wasn't going to get a tomorrow's universe. See?

And when he already began to doubt tomorrow's universe, why, he started stacking up yesterday's universe. Well, why does he eventually get down to a point where he stacks up only the bad of yesterday's universe? Well, you could say it's all he could have of it and other things, but there must be a better reason.

Now, Scientology 8-8008 was written after the Philadelphia Lectures, and was written at 30 Marlborough Place in London, up in Saint John's Wood. I kicked the thing out. It was a theoretical representation. The proc­esses demonstrated its conclusions and so on. But you have actually the first broad, comprehensive and still valid picture of havingness.

But, there has been a jump of seven years. Seven years. Well, that's a split instant on anybody else's research track but long enough on ours, for heaven's sakes, because we make gains by — oh, I don't know — I think in any given month we make as many gains as man made in the last millennia — in any one millennia of the past as far as understanding himself is concerned.

And here it took seven years to root out this data. And this data of course has been given to you. You know what this data is. Data concerns the cycle of action slip, the automaticity of travel from create, through survive to destroy. Trying to hold on to a universe, he also holds on to this law of the universe. And he can't continue to have something without going forward in time and finding himself in the inevitable destruction of it.

And he carries all the laws of the universe into his own bank and they become the laws of his own bank — create-survive-destroy. And so he has something but if he has something he knows it's going to skid — above all else, that he knows.

If he buys an automobile, he dazzles himself with the new brilliance of it and knows very well that it will be an old car in a few years. Finally, in order to have anything, he himself begins to fit on a sort of a personal create­survive-destroy curve, and to have anything it has to be a destroyed car. That would be the only kind of car he had. He's gone into agreement with this thing — totally. He's doing a slide on the cycle of action.

He cannot continue to have, he knows, because he will be destroyed. The havingness will be destroyed, everything will be destroyed and that'll be the end of it all. So his bank goes ahead and agrees with this and does this slip on the cycle of action.

Now that is probably the key point of understanding of havingness, plus this — this is the key point in the behavior of a thetan toward havingness, and I won't say except this — I'll give you now the rationale which is immediately back of "having to have." And it's taken a long, long time to get this stuff together, so don't let the air blow between your ears there where your head is because, boy, you need this like the desert needs water. I'm not kidding you, you know, you're just not going to make it with cases, unless you have a grasp on this thing.

A thetan gets in communication on an obsessive basis of being at cause or effect. And gets into a condition where he starts running separateness and he, of course — let's say for theoretical sake since we don't know for sure, we say he is separate at the beginning of this, you see, and then he gets obses­sively separate.

Now, just as you cannot enjoy the characteristics of a person you do not like — oh, your parents always played this game on you: they always pointed out some little boy in the neighborhood that — or some little girl in the neigh­borhood that you must not be like or something of the sort, you know? That means those are characteristics you cannot have.

He began, because of overts, to do things he couldn't be the effect of. And when he couldn't be the effect of his own cause — didn't dare to be the effect of his own cause — he got stuck on one end of the cause-distance-effect line. He got into an Axiom 10 ball up where he's obsessively creating an effect but he knows the effects he'll create are bad and therefore he must never be at the effect end of the line. Which also means, oddly enough, he must never come off the cause end of the line, because if he came off the cause end of the line, why, he's liable to slide over and become the effect of some other line. And this is very bad. So he gets pinned into Axiom 10.

Now, his overts teach him that cause-distance-effect, is also create-survive-destroy. So, being obsessively cause now — by the way, the further down scale he goes, the more obsessively causative he is, oddly enough, and the more individu­ated he is. And strangely enough, usually the more important he is.

Ah, you never questioned or queried the importance of some drunk stumbling down the street that's been on skid row for years. Why, he's a most important fellow.

Now, why is he so important? Well, the fragments and splinters that comprise his bank and body are all the havingness he's got. He can't have anything else. Why not? Because he has done things that he could not be the effect of, he says. And not being able to be the effect of these things, aha, the only real place to be would be on the cause end of the line. So, you get the Effect Scale, the bottom of which is, "no effect on me, total effect on others."

Well, that's followed into over the line of overt acts. And the more overt acts a person is guilty of, of course, the less effects he can be because he created the bad effects. And he — gradually you have less and less beingness.

Now, you get more and more separateness. And as his overt acts are against others and anything — they can be against anything — he starts indi­viduating from people. He starts individuating from possessions, he starts individuating from walls.

You had a case right here in this unit, by the way, that came down from 6.0 on the meter to about 2.0 or 3.0 or something like that, just by having her attention called to a wall. Bong! See? And we — there was some kind of an odd phenomenon of total separateness from the wall.

Well, I'll tell you. There's an old, old lecture which one amongst you will remember very well, "A thetan can be what he can see, and he can see what he can be." Remember that one? Well, boy, that's real true.

And you could say this. The more separate he has to be, the less he can be. The more separate he has to be, the less he can see. And you get being­ness declining but havingness — one of the methods of havingness is permeat­ing things. You know, being them.

You see little kids doing this all the time. They haven't got cars, so they go around being automobiles. Did you ever notice that?

Audience: Yes.

Well, that gives them a car, sort of.

Here you have a situation then of the further separate a person is from anything, the less he can have it. It's one of those goofball rules that's so obvious that it's a wonder anybody has to beat it over the head. But I'm beat­ing it over the head because it's so simple and so obvious that everybody seems to have missed it all the way along the line if they wanted to solve any part of these problems.

Some of you believe that all the solutions are there and they've all been solved. Well, that is not true. All the problems and laws are there but the combination of how they fit together was never whipped.

You take a whole bunch of individual thetans, you see, busy individuat­ing further and further, believing more and more this and that and the other thing, you eventually had nothing but a kind of a chaos which had some kind of obsessive order here and there, but mostly chaos. Nobody quite under-standing what anybody else did, so everybody being different from everybody. Get the idea?

So, therefore nobody had the good sense to look at himself and find out what he had in common with anybody else. You get the idea? And nobody had the good sense to go out and look at some savages and some civilized people and some things like that and find out if they had anything in common, and find out if there was anything that ran true.

And this obsessive differentiation — very obsessive — prevented any real­ization that everyone had certain things in common with everybody else. And having those certain things in common, there was some slight tendency to kind of be others and so on, but basically an understanding could be reached and we reduced down all of the nonsense.

And you go around to a priest and you say, "What's life?" you know? And the priest says, "Well, if you just worship Yahweh Vishnu — if you just worship Yahweh Vishnu then you will know."

And you go around to a businessman and you say, "Now, what's life?" And he says, "Buying and selling!" "Buy low! Sell high! That's life!"

You went around and asked everybody what the answers were to this thing, of course you wound up with a lot of blublaah like that. A lot of non-sense, you know.

If business ever falls on its silly head, it'll be because it thinks it consists of buying and selling. It doesn't. The only business that ever succeeds con­sists of service, whether they're selling or repairing or anything else. If they serve the public, they'll get paid.

But with all these bum answers all so different, how could anybody understand any similarities or were there any basic laws at all behind any part of any of this? And everybody would have told you, "No!"

Why? Because they were all being so confounded different than every-body else. Man has long since drifted below a society of cats. The most differ­ent thing there is than anything else in the animal kingdom is probably a cat. And a cat is most different from other cats. And man has gotten much worse than cats.

Well, look through the world today, what do you find? Specialists! A fel­low by the name of Chic Sale wrote a book on the subject once, I recommend it to everyone.

You go in and you see: medical building, you know, you see, uhuuuuhhh. You go into an advertising agency and you see, nyaaaah. All this is — I mean each person in the whole agency is a specialist, everybody's a specialist, every-body's different. All requires "super specialized" training. It all requires this.

In other words, they're just Q and Aing with the fact that everybody is different than everybody — much different than everybody, impossibly differ­ent than everybody. So different than anybody that they couldn't possibly even talk to anybody.

And you find amongst the specialists themselves, eight specialists in the same line of work have graded themselves into a caste system of some sort so they can't talk to each other either.

And you get this super-super-super individuation. And of course, with that comes terrific complication and it all becomes very incomprehensible, it all becomes very different, it all becomes this.

Well, they've got lots of things in common. I've got news for every one of those specialists, real good news for them. Like I did to that attorney one day: a magic phrase, which if you say the magic phrase and snap your fin­gers, the body will roll up in a ball and fall on the floor — and it did. Well, I bet his first thought is, "This wouldn't work on a corporation counsel." That lawyer probably had that as his first thought, you see, that he would be so different than a corporation counsel, it wouldn't work. But you go around to the corporation counsel, same thing would happen.

Scientology is inevitable in dissemination for the excellent reason that it is the story of the common denominator. And the only people you'll have any difficulty selling it to at all, are people who are very uncommon. Uncommon people. They're so uncommon they don't eat like anybody else or breathe like anybody else or spit like anybody else. They have various peculiar, peculiari­ties. They probably breathe through their ears or something.

Where we have this terrific separateness, we have very low havingness and tremendous anxieties about it. Till we have to beg people to get inter­ested in and buy automobiles.

The United States has to spend some incalculable sum, I don't know, must be two or three times the size of the national debt or something — that's a vast exaggeration but, of course, it's an exaggeration only because the national debt can't be computed. They spend it in advertising, trying to per­suade women to buy good-looking dresses that any dame in her right mind would dive through a plate glass window to grab. Do you get the idea? But they spend advertising to do it, you see.

They advertise like mad to get somebody to buy a new rug, a beautiful rug. They just put the pressure on at every side trying to get that havingness shoved down. And of course, the harder they shove out the havingness, the more the society deteriorates, why, the better the havingness they have to shove out and the more forcefully they have to shove it out, and the harder they have to shove it out into people's hands. And they say, "Here take it, you don't have to pay us anything right now. You can pay us sometime in the future. Uh, you can pay us when you get around to it."

And I heard the other day some science fiction writer had written a story whereby a man when he died, handed his debts over to his son and so on, and the society had worked itself up to the point where even the grand-children yet unborn, were deeply in debt. Oddly enough, such a credit system would work but that's beside the point.

The point we're making here is that there's — has to be more and more coercion in order to have something and that's about the silliest thing any-body ever looked at.

Boy, you just show me a beautiful house in a desert. It's a nice house and I want it, that's it! Don't go dangling a bright new tie under my nose because I'll acquire it.

But if I don't acquire it, I'm perfectly happy just to admire it. Get the idea? Audience: Uh-huh.

Scientologists are dangerous people. They're very dangerous. A million­aire in London once took out two five pound notes — he had been playing this gag all day long with great success with all of his business cohorts — he pulled out two five pound notes and he'd hand them to the friends he hap­pened to be with and say, "Here, this is yours." And they'd say, "No. What for?" "Uh, you don't owe me that." "I don't need any money," and so forth. And the millionaire would have to put the five pound notes back into his pocketbook.

So, he took out to dinner the Association Secretary and the Director of Training of HASI, London.

He told me later he never saw two five pound notes disappear faster. They didn't give them back either! He tried to convince them it was a gag but it wasn't any use.

It wasn't that there was any virtue in suddenly being a vacuum for hav­ingness but neither is any virtue connected with not being able to have. And you'd say the two extremes of got to have, got to have, got to have, got to have! — of course, that finally winds you up with kleptomaniacs and things like that. Things sort of fly off hatracks and stick on them.

Yeah, that's right — it's a total automaticity, just as you run into automa­ticity of the bank. Their hand will be on total automatic. There will be a silver spoon or something like that and they just — hand goes in and it sticks in their pocket. And they say, "How'd that get in my pocket?" And the police say, "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! As if you didn't know!" And what they're being foolish about is he didn't know. "How'd that get in my pocket?" That actually is his first thought, "How'd it get in my pocket ..." You know? In other words, you've just got an automaticity — he's got no choice in the matter.

And the other side of it is, is they can't have at all. Any time you offer them anything, whether it's communication or gold bullion, blondes or beauti­ful lifeguards; whatever it is this person is being offered, they just say, "No. Can't have."

Well, of course, having things fly into them and not knowing they're there and not being able to accept anything are equally can't-have. They can't have either one of them. Because havingness is a rather intellectual activity and that's the one thing that isn't a reactive activity because the reactive bank is simply a total network of reasons why one can't have. If one wants any defini­tion of it, well that's his can't-havingness pattern. It's quite remarkable, his can't-havingness. That's right.

What's an engram? That tells you that you can't have this, or you can't have that. It tells you that you must not go near fires that are burning very bright. You show me a thetan in good shape that can't have a bright, burning fire and sit right in the middle of it, and I'll show you one who isn't in good shape.

Now, of course, you can't take bodies — by the rules — and drop them into roaring rivers, and so forth. But a thetan can go into roaring rivers and not even get his old, rusty chains wet.

The point is that the more obsessively separate a person is, or the more resistively connected he is, the less he can have.

Now, the one thing he can do, is have — if he's in fair condition — but that's one of the best things that he does with MEST. Because you see, there's a new factor involved with a thetan — that I've known for a very long time but I don't think I've ever mentioned very much. I might have mentioned it once or twice — a newly discovered factor, first observed several years ago by myself but couldn't make much out of it.

And that is that a thetan is actually incapable, really, of duplicating anything. That's his native state. A thetan cannot be a brick wall, really. Not really. Because a thetan becomes a brick wall or duplicates a brick wall, he of course is a thetan plus a mock-up. You get the idea? He's a thetan plus some-thing.

But just a thetan all by himself, is just a thetan all by himself, and all else is mock-ups. Even the physical universe, see?

Now, he actually can't even be a location, really, honest and truly. He has to be able to pretend to be spaces, forces, masses. He can't perfectly duplicate them which is quite remarkable. Naturally.

Because he is himself and all of these other things are creations, and he is the only uncreated creation. So, of course — oh, he has a good time, he can look at them. When he looks at them he has to say, "Well, I can be a brick wall." That thought has to go through, "I can be a brick wall. I can be a this. I can be a that."

Now, if you show somebody some horrifying sight, some appalling sight — that is to him appalling — he'll get immediate dim down of vision. Did you ever notice this? He gets a dim down of vision when he confronts some-thing that he can't confront, see? Boom!

Well, what's this dim down? Well this dim down is he's observing some-thing he's decided that he can't be. Now, he has to be able to decide he can be things in order to perceive them at all, I guarantee you. And — so he's decided he can't be and of course the vision dims down. Has nothing to do with the wavelengths of anything traveling in any direction, it just has to do with him making up his mind what he can be. You might say, "What he is willing to observe." Well, if what he's willing to observe is what he's willing to in some fashion duplicate because the communication formula contains duplication.

Well, now there are many ramifications to this and I wish I could write them all down and show them all off but, actually, you could work them out rather easily.

A thetan is able to pretend he can duplicate so long as he is even vaguely willing to pretend he can be something. In other words, he's willing to dupli­cate a wall or see a wall if he's willing to be a wall. But the second he gets taught that "I" is totally different from a wall and he's not a wall, and if he's taught conclusively and continually that he's not a wall, that he's entirely separate from walls and must have nothing to do with walls, one of these fine days he'll be looking right straight at a wall and see right straight through it. Nothing creditable about that, I assure you. You can look through any-thing because they aren't there anyhow. Only they are there. See?

Now, let's take a look at a thetan and find out that he is so obsessively being different and obsessively refusing to duplicate, that he can't even see another thetan in some fashion — I mean, he can't observe one. It makes him sick to get the idea of duplicating himself!

Yeah, run "Conceive a Static" out of The Creation of Human Ability on somebody sometime and — pick a case that's not in too good a shape, and just run "Conceive a Static" for a few commands, he'll get good and sick on you. Because, he, of course, is conceiving something with no mass. You're spoiling his game.

He's gotten down to a point now where his final answer to duplication — and the first "in" answer to duplication — as he advances up toward being­ness, he can come as close as having something. So, havingness is the first — it's not an ideal condition at all. But it's the first condition which leads to perception. First he can have something and then he can do something with it and then he can be it. That's rehabilitation. It's reversing the cycle of dete­rioration.

The last thing he could do with something just before he faded out on it totally and entirely, the last thing he could do with something was have it. So, that's the first thing you've got to be able to get him to do with anything — have it.

I used to run Op Pro by Dup on people and get four or five times the result as they later on got with Op Pro by Dup. Don't know if you've ever heard a demonstration tape by me on Op Pro by Dup but it's quite interest­ing. Because this step has been omitted and has been missing, since I think the — I don't know what ACC it was, maybe the 7th. Gave the person ashtray. "Could you own that?" "Could you have it?"

"Well, no."

"Well, why couldn't you?" Argue, argue, argue, argue, argue. We had arguments, arguments, arguments back and forth about this ashtray. And then we finally took something else — some other object — and had arguments about that. "Could you have this?" "Could you have all of it?" "Are you sure you could have it?" "You could have it when it was broken, could you have it when it was new?" "Could you have it if it were stolen?" "Well, just under what conditions could you have this thing?" "Why couldn't you have it?" "Why could you have it?" Back and forth, back and forth.

And at first they just say, "Rahhh," and "What are you talking about that for?" And snarl, "Of course, I can have the ashtray. Nothing to it, ash-tray, pooh, you know, just ffffooh. And they finally get it, they finally look at this ashtray, "Yeah, it's quite an ashtray. Uh, oh, yeah, yeah, it's uh — huh." And you'd see this change come over them and you realize they could have this ashtray, and then they could have this other object — whatever it was — book or something. And then you'd run Op Pro by Dup. Because you'd entered them into the first wedge of being able to go up and actually be and perceive and duplicate something and recover somebody's willingness to duplicate. But you couldn't recover their willingness to duplicate unless you entered them in at the bottom of the ladder of being able to have it. Do you follow that?

A person does not really have to look at what he has. He doesn't have to use it. I know a fellow who drives Phoenix, Arizona stark, staring mad. All the camera enthusiasts in Phoenix, Arizona are a little bit wogged at this fellow. They feel all — they make him — he makes them feel a little bit crazy. Fabulous.

Every time any company anyplace in the world issues a new camera, this fellow has a standing order in one of the shops to, come hell or high water, buy it for him, and he takes it home, never takes a single picture with it and puts it on a cabinet shelf — which has glass across the front of the shelf. And he's got whole walls covered with brand-new, never shot, beautiful cam-eras. For instance, he had every model up the line that Leica ever made. He has every model up the line — not even because he collects them.

What really drives them mad is he never asked anybody even to come in and look at them. This fellow can have cameras! And he can have cameras that thereafter he doesn't even have to reassure himself that he still has them.

Now, you have undoubtedly, once or twice been very critical of some old lady or some old man or something of the sort who had a brand-new hat or brand-new gloves or something of this sort, and had these — brand-new hat or brand-new gloves and they put it on — a person put it on a shelf and they never wear it. And you open up a drawer, and the drawer is full of all the gloves you've given them for Christmas for the last fifteen years, you know.

Well, you're outraged by it, perhaps. But the horrible truth of the matter is that was all they could do with them but that was enough. It was very satisfy­ing. And people never add up this other little interesting fact, that it is quite enough for these people to have them. It's all right to have them, don't you see?

I hadn't hit anything like that on anything for a long time because I busily use almost everything I got. Nice equipment, it gets to be the most — well, it doesn't wear out very fast but it certainly gets an awful lot of knock­ing around, so on.

And I realized suddenly that I was still collecting cuff links. And people kept giving me cuff links. The last — a short time ago somebody gave me some jade cuff links — beautiful cuff links — and I accepted them, was very happy to have them and put them into a big leather case I have for cuff links. Well, I haven't worn any shirts with cuffs for years, frankly I haven't worn them for years. I'm still collecting cuff links. I have no use for them, any shape or form — not even really to collect them. And I said, "Well, at last, I've got a subjective reality on what it is to have something and never do anything with it and so forth — look at all those cuff links." There they were.

Actually, the collection which I do consider a bit of a collection: I'm always shopping around for odd stickpins. I like those. I use the living day-lights out of them. You know. I'm always wearing stickpins of one shape, size or condition and so on. Well, that's fine, but that's an entirely different thing. That's a sort of a dynamic havingness. You see, you have them, and then you really have them, you see?

Well, I doubt I've come up to a point where I could be a stickpin as a body but I certainly could be a stickpin as a thetan. Now, if I could thor­oughly enough be a stickpin as a thetan, and I was good enough at it, I would say, "Stickpin!" and there would be one. And I'd say, "Persist." And it would. You see where this goes?

Audience: Yes.

All right. Now, the cycle of action is what knocks out havingness. It's the automatic havingness disposer. Now, what havingness is all about is the low­est entrance point. Individuation ruins havingness, so any remedy of a per-son's individuation makes the room brighten up for him. He — things look brighter to him. You know, he's — gets off some overts which he wouldn't him-self want to be the effect of, don't you see. Soon as he gets the overts off he can see better.

That's very funny. I mean, he can see better if he gets the overts off. You get eyesight changes the moment you find — get the case unburdened, find the right terminal and run the correct process on it. Eyeglasses are very revela­tory. They always tell you exactly where a case sits. They say this person is still fooling the auditor. Because when you start to knock out somebody's obsessive individuation on any given subject, I tell you the world no longer goes whngaroww.

The odd part of it is, people's eyes aren't uniformly bad on all objects, so oculists are always having a hard time of it. The oculist goes in and he shows them a chart and he adjusts their eyes to the chart and then they go out and look at a car. Or they use them to drive down a road or something of this sort. See what I mean? Entirely different thing.

Person says, "My glasses aren't quite comfortable. I wonder what's wrong with my glasses?" Nothing is wrong with their glasses except there isn't a set of glasses made under the sun that do very much for anybody's sight. That's about — I see there are some pairs of glasses in front here, I'm actually not paying too much attention to it. Beyond wondering what's the matter with the auditor. I don't blame the person wearing the eyeglasses, I just think they're being a victim. Victimized by bad auditing, that's obvious.

Now, here's the main show here. Scientology 8-8008, seven years ago, gives you remedy of scarcity and abundance of all things. Right? That sets that as an optimum condition and sets up a process known as Expanded GITA which is covered in the tapes actually as merely GITA. And which many people have read into it as having an Indian connotation — having something to do with one of the Indian GITAs and so forth — because there's some religious connotation of the word. The truth of the matter is it's "give and take." It's just a contracted "give" and "take," it means.

You had to be able to get rid of, or have, or receive anything anybody could think up. And the things that people were having a bad time with in life were the things they couldn't have and couldn't throw away. Now, those things were giving them a hard time. And any button on the case here — all these seven years later, I can tell you — any button on any case is purely, entirely and completely and utterly in a scarcity or abundance bracket, and that's all that's wrong with it. There's no further significance than that.

If a person is at destroy on a curve on men, there aren't enough of them. If a person is at destroy at the cycle of action curve on women, there aren't enough of them. If he can't even get the idea of a woman, there aren't enough of them. And if he can't even get the idea of a man, there aren't enough of them. Got the idea? If he can't mock up a racing car, there aren't enough of them.

Now, it goes further than that, much further than that. If an individual has a picture of a racing car, there aren't enough of them. Because what have you got? You've got the middle of the cycle of action — you've got a persistence of a picture and that's all there is to that. He's got a picture of a murder that has nothing to do with it because the cycle of action is a condition. It's a statement of condition. The thing has been or is being created. It is persist­ing. It is breaking up, or is broken up. Do you see that? That's a statement of conditions and has nothing to do with terminals except to describe their con­dition plotted against time.

So, any terminal addressed in any way with no further significance will knock that terminal back and forth on the cycle of action. And routinely returns it back onto destroy and then finally onto persist and then back off the line onto create, at which moment that terminal will vanish from the bank — really vanish — never to come back. But it'll only do that when the per-son feels that there's a possibility he could at any time he wanted, have enough of them. Now, what do you know about that?

If you understood this and if you digested it and you've got it square, you possibly will feel sometime in the future that you may have trouble with a case. But if you've got that one square, you never have any trouble with a case.

And if you don't get that one square and you do have trouble with cases, I'm telling you something, you didn't get it square, you're just a square. You're being a knucklehead.

This is too easy. The guy has nothing but pictures of dead women. There's women that are dead and dead that are women. He has pictures of dead women, dying women, cut-up and buried women. All we've got to do is run Confront or any Havingness Process and the picture slides back to the middle of a cycle of action, and we remedy it further and it slides on back to the create. It's very funny, you keep remedying havingness on women long enough, and the pc is going to give you some very peculiar yickle-yackle that you think he's going to get off the subject.

He's going to tell you that he is (whatever the process is) handling women but the only pictures he's getting are little babies. And you'll think he has got the product of women and men, when as a matter of fact, he simply has women at the beginning of the create-survive-destroy curve and of course at that time they were little babies. Now, you run this out far enough and the cycle of action itself blows up.

You understand how an individual got so that he couldn't have anything. He got so he couldn't have anything because he didn't dare duplicate it. Why not? Because he was separate from it and different from it. He was too sepa­rate and he was too different and he couldn't be it and therefore he couldn't duplicate it and therefore, very definitely couldn't have it. His first action is being able to have this thing.

Now, as he moves on up the scale on this one particular item, why he's more and more able to have it which means he's more and more able to be it which means there's more and more of it. And it's still the idea of scarcity and abun­dance. And all it comes back to is scarcity and abundance. And scarcity and abundance monitors all these other significances. And you never saw such a pianoforte in your life as scarcity and abundance plays when it's done right.

Now, how do you — you could just keep remedying the scarcity of some-thing. It's always terminals, then these other phenomena would discharge off of it. Very simple.

One of the ways of remedying the scarcity of anything is to have some-body confront it.. Now, willingness to confront something would be willing­ness to duplicate it and that's very simple.

If you can't see a picture, you just aren't willing to be it, that's all. Well, of course, the first entrance point on the scale of be, do and have is to be able to have it. And the individual can't see the picture because he can't have it. Well, he can't have it because he can't confront it — he can't look at it.

Why can't he look at it? Because he's separate from it. Well, why is he separate from it? Well, because he's standing over here. No, that's not good enough because a thetan could stand over here and look at a picture without being obsessively separate from a picture. You understand that.

But when he's got to be separate from it, when he must be different from it, there is no picture there. Now what do you think of that? So, as he becomes obsessively individuated, why these things all blow up in front of his face. I mean they disappear.

Well, all right, what is this then in a basic run? What's it got to do with overts? Well, the individual has to be on the cause-distance-effect line if he's guilty of overts. He's got to be at cause, therefore he never goes into session. Did you ever see a session run with the pc at cause and the auditor at effect? It won't run, that I assure you. So, therefore, a case that's having a very rough time has to go obsessively at cause because he's guilty of overts.

Well, what are his overts? Well, regardless of what his overts are they make him feel that he mustn't be at the effect-point. If he's not at the effect-point, then he is obsessively at the cause-point. If he is obsessively at cause-point and that sort of thing, he's excessively individuated. And when he's super-individuated, he can't see things. He can't have them. He can't be them. He's in an awful state of affairs.

See, you now have two, three, four, five — wow! — how many methods. Each one of them very, very effective in an attack on a bank or the remedy of any given situation. You can just remedy it in dozens of different ways.

You can get off the overts so that he can dare be at effect. He can dare be the effect of his own cause. Well, that would get him so that he's capable of trusting himself not to give bad effects, well then he's willing to be some-place else than cause.

The only person that doesn't get hurt in a gunfight is the fellow who shot the other fellow — something for you to remember. And that's what overts boils down to.

The only safe place to be in an overt is holding the gun. When a person is guilty of an overt, after that, the only safe place is to be holding the gun, and he goes on holding the gun harder and harder, and he's different and more and more different, and things start to dim out, and he doesn't know what the score is.

Well, unfortunately, overts wind him up over on the destroy end of the curve not because he decides he'll destroy everything — not that simply — but an overt is to move an object toward destroy by a counter-create.

So, the more an individual has aimed at and knocked apart objects, the further he is along on the cycle of action, the less he can have of the object.

This is one of those super — you play it on a mouth organ and it comes out "Home Sweet Home." And you play it on a banjo and it comes out "Home Sweet Home." And you — you play it on a preclear and it comes out "Home Sweet Home." Do you get the idea? I mean, no matter what you do or how many angles you attack it from, you accomplish the same end goal. You knock apart obsessive individuation, obsessive differentiation, you knock apart the necessity to do overts; you knock apart the feeling that every time he looks at something it'll be destroyed, you knock apart the feeling that this object he is looking at is terribly scarce.

And this with confront it, and not-confront it, dares to, and not-dares to, and all of this sort of thing — that finally winds up, of course, all with the same end goal. They all do more or less the same thing. They get somebody Clear because in that potpourri measured from left to right, upside down, right there in the middle of the scramble, is the reactive bank and the pc.

And we've just got it taped and there're so many roads plowed through it by this time and so many bulldozers have been driven through it by this time, so many weights have been raised and lowered through it at this time; it's been unthreaded so arduously and lengthily, and so forth, taken apart, pene­trated with light, explored, paved, marked, mapped, and so forth, that with — even without auditing, how it's there at all right now, I am unable to see.

Thank you.