all MEST up

A response to a victimized Scientologist . . .

2009-06-27T12:39:00.000-07:00

Some dude over at Glosslip was whining about how his church is being attacked and it got me thinking about the three distinct generations of critics that have brought us to these interesting times . . .

Oh Robert, how these enturbulent times do my Second-Gen Critic's heart good. I count myself with those who became critics of the cult back in the early days of the internet. It was the dawn of xenu.net and the LMT. The lovely Tory/Magoo was not yet our joyful muse. In those days Robert, there was no criticizing the cult publicly. You still couldn't speak out against Scientology without getting a Kobrin-Gram or a visit from Earl Cooley's goon, Eugene Ingram. Criticize, and you had crazed Scilons leafletting your neighborhood with flyers calling you a pederast or murderer. You had obscene calls to your workplace or maybe your pet drowned. You suffered like the First Gen Critics Cooper and Lerma and Wallershiem and Armstrong and Young. The cult would blackmail you and the media would believe them. They were the ultimate playground bully, who would slug you, then go fake-cry to the teacher and YOU would get punished.

Now the tables have turned. The anonymity that the internet gave us in those early days created a shitstorm of free-flowing com that the cult knew would be its undoing. The more they tried to cut off its head, the more heads it would grow. For me, it was Andreas Heldal-Lund and Bob Minton who were the biggest influences in giving me courage to speak out, online and off (you too WBM). When I would talk about the cult to my friends back then, they would just roll their eyes like I was totally nuts. They couldn't believe this conspiracy stuff was true. It took the final shot of the Second Gen war to wake everyone else up . . . a shot fired by a cartoon character. South Park's brilliant "Trapped in the Closet" episode heralded the end of the second phase of criticism. Those years ended with Stan staring at the camera with his big, cartoon eyes saying "sue me, go ahead and fucking sue me" and I think we all nearly fell over.

So Robert, the atmosphere of open criticism you are now soaking in is the result of the work of two distinct generations of critics. Pre-internet folks who got the living crap fair-gamed out of them. Then the early internet years when the intergalactic despot was let out of the bag, so to speak. Finally came the Third Gen Critics, and the end-game for the current "church". And the architect of this end-game is Tom Cruise. Why Cruise? Because, if he hadn't fired uber PR flack Pat Kingsley, re-engaged with the cult and hired his Scilon sister to replace Kingsley, his special brand of batshit crazy would have stayed under wraps. It was his couch-jumping, cult-promoting, royal-wedding, KSW Carnival of Foot-Bullets that provoked the hornets nest of Chanology into action. It was batshit crazy "tech" with a megaphone, meeting totalitarian attempts to shut the information flow off (again) that created the Third Gen Critics. And they didn't just stay home in their parents basements as Miscavige expected . . . they marched. They chanted. They rickrolled and frolicked. There was caek and it was good.

Anyway Robert, your "church" has created this agitta itself. Of course, Hubbard set it in motion with his megalomania, avarice and paranoia; with his sci-fi lunacy and draconian fake navy. You are probably a public Scientologist. You're most likely not clear, certainly not an OT. You can't believe that anything like what you're seeing in the media is true. Your critical thinking skills are poor as evidenced by your long post, loaded with "church" talking-points and logical fallacies. Believe me, the "church" wants to keep you that way: credulous and forking over money. And though you won't believe it, we are not here to attack you. We are here to help you.

For Quentin Hubbard and all the rest . . .

Personally, I think that the whole thing needs to be shut down and let the Freezoners carry on with Hubbard's batshit crazy "tech" . . . for free.

This is big . . .

2009-06-22T12:48:00.000-07:00

There's not much I can say about the import of this series of articles in the aptly nicknamed SP Times. It's quite simply amazing.

Depressed? Stop being such a fu¢^*ng pansy . . .

2009-01-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

Oh, how I love the celebrities. Bijou Phillips in all her great wisdom has denounced depression sufferers who turn to antidepressants as "fucking pansies". What next Bijou? Are people who take chemotherapy for cancer goddamned wussies? Epileptics on Dilantin are motherfucking crybabies? What's that Bijou? They should try the L. Ron Hubbard cure? It's all in their heads? Body Thetans is it? You might want to go to Sense About Science where actual scientists offer well-meaning celebutards a lovely pamphlet chock full of advice on what comprises real science before they spew their woo to a gullible public eager to lap up the pseudoscientific quackery put forth by the likes of Oprah, Jenny McCarthy and Madonna.

REVIEW: Prescription for a Superior Existence

2008-07-12T17:06:00.000-07:00

As someone who is fascinated by the subject of cults and mind-control, Prescription for a Superior Existence was a no-brainer to add to the pile of books next to my bed—only it never made it there—I read it all in one day. Over the years, I’ve grown to understand that my fascination with cults actually says more about me than the object of my fascination. With that in mind, I strongly recommend that anybody with an interest in cults read this new novel by Josh Emmons. Those who read this blog (both of you) know that I take a snarky, mocking approach to the battle against Scientology. I think humor goes a long way to diffuse the absurdity of the subject matter, but that humor is backed up with personal experience and familiarity with some fairly substantive books on the subject. I now add this work of fiction to that list. By turns moving, disturbing, fantastic and sobering, this book offers a close-up view of what makes humans tick, and what makes some of us turn to extremist groups.

AN ENGAGING MYSTERY AND VERY DIFFERENT LOVE STORY
The story is set in a plausible, near-future San Francisco, a time when many of our chickens have come home to roost. It’s the story of an ordinary man plunged into extraordinary circumstances when he falls for the daughter of a cult leader. Playing out against this troubled backdrop, the book has more than a whiff of of Raymond Chandler and a dash of cyberpunk—a slightly dystopian, but very believable, not-too-distant future where environmental, political and societal stresses feed our fears and doubts, leaving some of the populace ripe for the picking.

A CLEAR VIEW OF CULT MECHANICS
Emmons has a keen understanding of how cults can snare even the most skeptical people under the right emotional circumstances. I found myself impressed at this young writer’s maturity and familiarity with the psychology and language of mind-control. I also found myself disturbed by his ability to get inside my own head when he eloquently describes the self-doubts that gnaw at his protagonist. I could feel what it would be like to be on that slippery slope of credulity, unable to stop the slide into submission to the group.

SOUNDS FAMILIAR . . .
The cult that Emmons has created is eerily like Scientology mixed with Landmark. The charismatic leader and his Prescription for a Superior Existence seems to be a bit of Hubbard, a bit of Erhard with overtones Heaven’s Gate. What I found truly scary is that if a fairly charismatic woman or man were to take the ideas in this book and flesh them out, they’d probably find themselves with scores of devotees in no time.
Having just finished the book, I’m haunted by a lingering sense of compassion and understanding for our human frailties. Our self-doubts and our desire to belong are clearly and sometimes achingly portrayed in these characters caught up in the sweep of the storyline.

As I mentioned earlier, Emmons literary style is mature, sophisticated and edgy, though there are twists and turns that are fairly predictable. In the end, even the predictable turns are very satisfyingly rendered in his capable hands. Ultimately, I found myself taking a hard look at what motivates me as a critic. For this I’m very grateful, as it certainly strengthened my resolve in standing up to abusive groups, while reminding me that compassion for those in thrall to those groups is what it's all about. For those of us who rail against the abuses of $cientology and other cults, I believe there is much insight to be gained in reading this novel—insight into what motivates both sides of the argument and how thin the emotional line between the two sides really is.

Space Station 33

2008-06-27T10:02:00.000-07:00

I could not possibly make this shit up. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you L. Ron Hubbard . . .

L. Ron Hubbard's Space Station 33 from Artoo45 on Vimeo.

Aleens iz reel . . .

2008-05-30T13:50:00.000-07:00

So, somebody thinks they have the scoop of the century with their "alien looking in the window" movie. Well, I took this shot of Xemu last summer at Chincoteague. Sure, he peeped in the window of our Winnebago first (he's shy like that) but soon he was slammin' back cheap chardonnay and scarfing down the quahogs like there was no tomorrow. After dinner we played Scrabble and he gave us all free personality tests. So he's really not such a despot after all, just shy and misunderstood.

Silence of the Clams

2008-05-10T19:15:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Dawn at Glosslip for the inspiration . . .

Xenu Wine Cellar Mishap Ends in Tragedy

2008-04-29T11:22:00.000-07:00

Talk show host and currency dispenser, Oprah Winfrey was vaporized today, after an innocent foray into what she assumed was Tom Cruise's wine cellar. Winfrey was stunned to find not neat racks of merlots and ports, but the intergalactic despot, Xenu.
The Evil One ordered Cruise to destroy her with his sooper-dooper™ OT-VIII™ powers and the actor had no choice but to comply fearing a reapeat of a rather unpleasant incident Xenu was involved with in the past. Ms. Winfrey has been replaced with a Marcabian Super Mk VII PuppetBot™. Niether Xenu or Mr. Cruise could not be reached for comment.

The Great Enturbulation Road Show

2008-04-10T11:45:00.000-07:00

A download salute to all my anonymous friends . . .

Hella Trouble in Helatrobus . . .

2008-04-10T10:58:00.000-07:00

Leaked Co$ docs are like Lay's™ potato chips: betcha can't read just one. I've been gorging on the heaping platefuls of "tech" that have recently shown up on wikileaks.org. If you pick through them patiently they're quite instructive as to the nature of the racket that is $cientology—especially the lecture transcripts. These are especially hilarious, as you can actually hear the cogs turning in Hubbard's brain as he's bullshitting in realtime. I'd love to say this is like watching "the master at work" but his patois is really transparently pathetic. Lots of verbal static like: "and such", "you see", plus the classic "and that sort of thing". He peppers his lectures with this stuff when he's in the process of making shit up (which is pretty much all the time).

My new favorites are "The Helatrobus Implants". Of course, I've heard of them for years and read little clips here and there, but to spend hours looking closely at them is by turns mirth inducing and tedious. One tactic of Elron's becomes crystal clear however, the ol' "move the target" ploy. He sets up all these thetanic ailments based in ridiculous intergalactic scenarios, and come up with crazy auditing techniques with important sounding names like R2D2 to solve them. He then informs you that there are ever newer levels that you'll have to do on top of that. Here's a fine example from $cientology's Golden Age of Batshit Crazy™:

"Now, the technological win is tremendous and there are only about five percent of the cases you're going to run into that are going to give you a bit of a thetan ache because they don't have what I choose to call now, because it was the nation or small government that did these things -- Helatrobus -- not to be confused with Helatrobe. Helatrobe is the Galactic Confederation.

It's Helatrobus. Call these things the Helatrobus Implants for lack of a better designation because 43 trillion isn't accurate for all cases, don't you see, and that sort of thing. You can't give it by a time date and there is no reason to keep calling it by a time date. Let's call it by something that was less well known, but that we can identify. Call them the Helatrobus Implants and it tells you these are the implants which begin with the electronic clouds over planets and -- and the dichotomy, plus and minus, and so forth, and sweep on through in a certain series. And people have been through them once, twice, three, four times and they have -- we have the patterns of the first series very accurately. We'll shortly have the patterns of the second series.

All that makes very easy auditing. We even have a technique that handles this now: 3N, which has just been released and that's the same patter that you've been using, speeded up a bit. And there's even a shortened version of that which you will need very soon."

There it is, "which you will need very soon". This evidently happens constantly in the cult. You get so far and feel like progress has been made and BAM! You have to be clear. Then you get clear and BAM! You have to go OT. Then you "make progress" and BAM! Body Thetans, evidently 43 trillion years worth of 'em. That's a lot of auditing.

So even though daffy Lafayette has shed his body, Li'l Davy and his minions can keep "discovering" space opera nonsense until the Marcabs come home. That gives me a whole lotta thetan ache.

Have you ever enturbulated an orderly environment?

2008-04-09T18:27:00.000-07:00

Well? Have ya, punk?

That's just one of the hundreds of batshit crazy questions on the recently available sec checks now on wikileaks.org.. This amazing look into the rusty carnival ride that was L. Ron Hubbard's brain gives you new perspective on the mind-numbing processes that $cientologists are subject to daily on the Bridge. Hundreds of questions, some reasonable, some completley insane and meaningless, in various combinations and permutations are lobbed at the hapless $cientologist holding the cans.
Imagine going through this process for hours on end. No wonder you get high and feel like the king or queen of the universe when you're done. No wonder you'd believe that the universe is quadrillions of years old (it really isn't really, it just feels like it after a sec check or reading one of Hubbard's tomes).
Read through the OT materials for a good laugh, but remember the state that the auditors get you into in order to fall for the intergalactic tripe. The sleep deprivation. The repetition. And the paranoia. Check out the last questions of the "Jo'burg Confessional". Total paranoia. This might help the wog to understand the mindset of those still inside the "Church" and why they are so in thrall to these ideas.

Talk about enturbulaton . . .

2008-03-19T16:07:00.000-07:00

This has to be giving Li'l Davy some sleepless nights. Famed for his Borderline Personality Disorder induced paranoia, Miscavige must be viewing everyone with suspicion now. What a sad little man . . . that and he has to live in Hemet.

Jenna Miscavige Hill is Courage Incarnate

2008-03-17T13:08:00.000-07:00

For all of us wog critics, we think it must be so cool for those waking up in the cult to speak out against $cientology and leave. Well, this link shows that while it may be empowering and freeing, it's definitely not fun. This woman and her husband have to choose between family and integrity. Something that a child should never have to do. This choice that Jenna and Dallas have made must be painful in a way that those of us not involved in $cientology can't imagine.
Her grace under enormous pressure is amazing to watch, as is Kendra's and Astra's. These women are making a huge difference and All MEST Up salutes them and their work.

In their own "scripture" . . .

2008-03-13T15:09:00.000-07:00

As I always say, criticism of $cientology is never as effective as their own words and actions . . .

This scary tidbit is from the newly uploaded OSA documents of Frank Oliver which can be found here.

Anonymous Pulls it Off. Well Done You (All)!

2008-02-11T14:38:00.000-08:00

Though I had my fears of ill-mannered shit-disturbers taking the day, the masses of respectful protesters that showed up around the world proved me wrong. Three cheers for worldwide civil disobedience and cheeky attitude. The images from around the globe showed a strong turnout and more than a little creativity. Our San Francisco protest was a great but I wish I could have been in L.A. to see a decidedly maskless Tory surrounded by her posse of dashing V-men.

The Church of Xenu Ascendant of the Latter Day Thetans salutes your enturbulation success.

So THAT'S why he gives me the creeps . . .

2008-02-08T13:24:00.000-08:00

I'm a latecomer to "Lost" but I now count myself among its many fans. I know he's the bad guy, but that Ben guy totally creeps me out and I mean way more than the other fairly creepy bad guy characters on the show and I wondered why until it hit me . . .

He's clearly Li'l Davey's long lost brother, that's why those trendy Indiana Jones wannabe hipsters are after him. He knows where all the $cientology skeletons are buried! Man, this just gets better and better.

The Entheta is flying . . .

2008-02-04T17:58:00.000-08:00

With Cruise's latest bit of Kult Krazy™ in wide release, the entheta is flying fast and furious in the mainstream media and it's open season on the cult, so why aren't I delighted? I certainly want Miscavige and his cronies brought to some kind of justice. I want people to feel free to write about the "church" and Hubbard without fear of being buried in Kobrin-grams or having Eugene Ingram breathing down their neck. Personally, I just like mocking Hubbard and his batshit crazy "tech", but I'm feeling uneasy.

What's giving me this gnawing anxiety is the growing lynch mob mentality of late, mostly fomented by Anonymous' plan to attack $cientology's servers which quickly spread from the digital to the anolog world. Surely this would be fun, right? Plucky underdogs nipping at the bloated bureaucracy of the cult, striking blows for free-speech and liberty. That should fill me with glee, right? There are many thoughtful Anonymous members to be sure, but sadly, what is coming out of the woodwork is more like a pack of juvenile Hubbards who clearly don't get out of their parent's basements enough. These rogue shit-disturbers seem to be filled with anger and stupidity and they're playing directly into OSA's hands. The fake anthrax envelopes, the "Honk if you hate Scientology" signs and calls for sabotaging church property all sound like the tactics of OSA at the height of Hubbard's paranoia.

The problem with anarchy is that it only works when everybody is a responsible, smart adult. When you throw out an open call for action, you're gonna get nut-cases who just want to smash some shit and they don't care who gets hurt or what the consequences are. This is never a good idea. One huge difference between Anonymous and OSA is that OSA is run with an iron fist, and that everything is planned down to the last detail. Okay, the OSA plan may be a complete foot-bullet-clusterfuck (it usually is), but at least there won't be any "rogue-element" surprises along the way.

Attacking them isn't the way to get at them folks . . . you have to reveal them in all their space-opera glory. Don't be a censor and try to stop people from reading Hubbard's crap . . . encourage them to read it! Get them a copy of the hilarious "A History of Man" or highlight the tone-scale stuff in "Dianetics" about eliminating gays "without sorrow". Get them to watch Tom Cruise go off the deep end on Gawker. Have them watch one of the cult's creepy recruiting films. For in-depth research, send folks to xenu.net or cultnews.net. Then there's parody: Southpark has proven that you'll get way more results with some smart mockery or parody than you will with an attack on the poor shchmucks in the church who are the very people we're trying to wake up. How about Hubbard in his own words? My song "What's the Matter With You Hat?" (mad props to Karl for the video) is a fun primer on interplanetary travel and tanning in the Van Allen belts. If you're itching for confrontation, head down to your local org or mission and picket . . . politely. Don't give them any ammunition about how awful and evil critics are. Remember, all the preclears see is the happy, shiny Scientology that teaches and helps people. They see the smiling face, not the greedy, manipulative, paranoid cult.

For a daily dose of sanity, check in on Mark Bunker's great blog. He's been on the front of this battle for years and has great perspective on the whole thing. For all the media circus around the cult right now, there are still millions of folks who really don't know anything about the CoS, so there is still a need to speak out. I believe the critic's job is to get the uniformed direct access to the crazy stuff before they can be love-bombed into parting with all their money and brainwashed into believing all their troubles stem from being covered with Xenu's space cooties.

Things I Wish I'd Thought Of: Nº234

2007-11-19T10:18:00.000-08:00

Man, this site is hilarious. Not since the great Lana Diane has there been such a great $cientology parody site.

Li'l Davy, Life of the Party!

2007-07-24T12:00:00.000-07:00

Evidently Fearless Leader David Miscavige is no ball of fire on the dance floor. At the big recruitment, er . . . I mean welcome party for Becks and Old Spice hosted by Dr. Goebbels and his warbride, the Commodore evidently sat out most of the cupcake-fueled festivities . . . creepy indeed.

Xenu . . . The Musical!

2007-06-18T17:59:00.000-07:00

I am so stoked. The lucky folks attending Scotland's Edinburgh Fringe Festival are going to be treated to what will certainly be the toast of Teegeeack's 2007 theatrical season . . . Xenu Is Loose!

I really hope they write Goaty™ into the script to reflect the founding events of the Church of Xenu Ascendant of the Latter Day Thetans™ . . . no, really. . . I'm a prophet . . . I'm going to freekin' make MILLLIONS!!!

Xenu and his pal . . . Goaty!

2007-06-01T16:31:00.000-07:00

In the tradition of Prophets throughout time, I have received new scriptures for $cientology's canon. Muhammad got the Q'uran from the archangel Gabriel, Joseph Smith got his magic glasses and plates from the angel Moroni, but my new $cientology scriptures came from down below . . . they came from my dog, the holy pughuahua.

It began, as these things do, on an ordinary day . . . doing ordinary things. I was strolling through the 'hood last week and I noticed that my dog had picked up a strange object that he was guarding jealously, it was a small plastic figure I knew in a flash of blinding light represented Xenu of Marcab. I was stunned. Such revelations usually involve some burning shrubbery or at least a talking salamander, but mine came suddenly and and unexpectedly through my demi-pug prophet.

As the now holy dog released the precious statuette to my trembling hand, I noticed that he was already on the hunt for something else. Possessed, as if by some invisible force, he pulled mightily at the leash heading right for Mrs. Bordenaro's temptingly lush lawn. This usually means he's about to drop one of his nasty little acid-green steamers on the sidewalk . . . but not this time. Possessed by unseen forces, he lunged under a juniper bush and emerged proudly carrying a small, plastic farm animal, and suddenly, I knew who's awful visage I gazed upon . . . and I swear to you, this really happened, my little dog laid the figurine at my feet and spoke to me in a voice reminiscent of Mercedes McCambridge on helium, "Behold Goaty the Terrible, companion of Xenu and slayer of untold billions!" To be honest, I nearly shat my knickers.

Later that night, I was filled with an urgent, burning desire (to be honest, it may have been Mrs. Wu's totally flamin' Kung Pao chicken I had for lunch). I worked feverishly into the wee hours, scanning the holy action figures into Photoshop™, awakening the next morning to to discover that I had created the first portrait of Xenu and Goaty together in Xenu's electronic mountain trap.

Tremble mortals, tremble.

Happy Art™

2007-05-23T12:27:00.000-07:00

Imagine the world with only "happy" artists. Evidently the owner of London's A Gallery has. No Francis Bacon. No Pollock. No Van Gough. Now, don't get me wrong, I would not wish a miserable life on anyone, even if it was packed with creativity. Should someone seek help if they're addicted or depressed? Certainly. Great artists like Bacon and Pollock, had they sought help for their woes, might have created even greater masterpieces as a result of that process. At least they might have lived longer to produce more work.

My contempt for L. Ron Hubbard and his "work" is seemingly inexhaustible—but I reserve special contempt for his quack antidrug/anticrime "therapies" which are totally unproven by any peer-reviewed process. His insane paranoia of all things psychiatric certainly didn't stop him from stealing liberally from Freud, Jung and other pioneers of psychiatry. Unfortunately he was just a hack writer, so the ultimate effect of his cribbing functional therapeutic ideas was analogous to stealing a few parts of a 747 and expecting to ferry 400 people across the Atlantic with them. Your "plane" wouldn't fly, and neither do Narconon™ or Criminon™.

Henson Update

2007-05-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

This is from operatingthetan.com . . .

21 May 2007: Keith's wife Arel Lucas was on The Vince Daniels Show.

16 May 2007: Henson is unable to communicate with his lawyer. His wife Arel sent this report:

Keith has been unable to speak with his lawyer since last Wednesday immediately following the hearing.

Whether it's a glitch in the Inmate Telephone system or deliberate, I don't know, but his lawyer has tried everything he knows how to do, called the Inmate Telephone number over and over again to get his account set up, waiting up to half an hour on hold, trying to give payment, etc. He is a 2-hour drive from here, so that is a major problem. The way the system works, Keith can call him but he cannot call Keith. And the system keeps telling Keith his lawyer is not registered.

The way things are, he will not be able to speak with his attorney until the hearing on Friday. I believe this is unconstitutional.

This is so frustrating that I can hardly stand it. Is there nobody with media clout that is willing to make an issue of this? I've tried to contact Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I've emailed Schwarzenegger, Brown at the statehouse. Then Donahue, Oprah, hell, I even emailed Geraldo. But I don't really have proximity to get noticed by theses folks, do you?

This jail Keith's in sounds too isolated for an effective protest, perhaps the only thing we can do is show up in force once he's extradited to Riverside county. If I feel this helpless, how must Keith Feel?

Artoo

Audit THIS You Bastard!

2007-05-14T11:16:00.000-07:00

What are your crimes!

What are your crimes!

Your crime would be missing tonight's episode of the BBC show, Panorama on the "Church". Look for links to it on xenutv.com or on YouTube.

UPDATE:
I just saw the show. The clams look like fucking lunatics, especially Ann Archer's maniac son. The $cienos are like tragic keystone cops with their detectives and minivans squealing away from the scene. Sweeny was incredibly patient with them in my opinion. They looked SO bad it was good. A veritable footbullet Uzi.

Xenu's New Job . . . Cult Apologist

2007-05-13T20:42:00.000-07:00

Dazed and confused about how to deal with all the entheta on the 'net, $cientology has redirected xenu.tv yet again to this rather lame rebuttal site. As usual, they are spinning madly (like their founder in his grave) to cover up all misdeeds and many of the just plain dumb things that Hubbard wrote or said .

There are several outright lies like . . .

"I do not know any Scientologist who believes Jesus Christ didn't exist. Each individual Scientologists (sic) belief in Christ is personal to them. There is no Church of Scientology doctrine instructing one how to view Christ."

We've all heard Hubbard say, in his own words, on Scientology's own tapes . . . "the man on the cross . . . there was no christ".

I notice that they do the usual dodge and feint around the whole Xenu question. Body Thetans are space cooties that you get rid of with Auditing. Period.

I almost feel sorry for them. Imagine watching your carefully crafted money machine slowly grinding to a halt as more and more people find out that it was all a big con created by a megalomaniac. Li'l Davy's Navy is taking on water fast.