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Editor's Note:

picture of Maharaji poking out of a sunroof of a Rolls Royce in London September of 1973
Maharaji in London September of 1973
"England swings like a pendulum do"

In Anon's post he asks whether Roger eDrek™ could chronicle the changing premie fashions. Well, Roger eDrek a Mr. Blackwell is he not. Roger refused steadfastly and quite successfully to buy into the premie fashion of the polyester super wide lapels disco three piece clown suit that was ever so popular amongst the premie men. Roger to this day is still a big sucker for the sexless parachutes that all the 'sisters' wore as Roger is old school and believes that there is more sizzle in what is not show or more appropriately what is concealed rather than what is blatantly revealed. Roger would ask for an ex-premie or even a premie sister who still has such a sexless parachute to help Roger live out one of his last remaining fantasies.

Roger did succumb to purchasing with his father's charge card at a fashionable haberdasher two pairs of polyester pants that he wore for a number of years. Roger remembers distinctly telling the elder salesman that it was time to get it together. Little did young Roger know where "getting it together" would take him. Had young Roger known he would have instead gone to a gun shop and bought a handgun and one bullet.

With great trepidation Roger will admit to having once gone to a disco club and dancing to the Bee Gees at some un-Godly hour in the morning with a young and very sexy woman named, honest to god, Candy. But, that's a another story for another time.

Finally, questions about some of the WPC characters in the photo. Yes, you know they are WPC. No question about that. In fact, I'd say that those dudes were packing.

Who is that guy, with moustache, in the far left edge of the photo? He looks like that skinny, sickly guy who was everywhere.

The WPC Agent on the far right with moustache and toothy blissed out grin with head tilting down, is it possible that he is the shortish, heavy set WPC dude that is in the Lord of the Universe documentary video that says that he would slit the throat of anyone with no question about it anyone who would mess with his Guru Maharaj Ji?

It's good to know that in the kinder and gentler time of today that there is no security nor WPC as we were told by some naive premie.

Hey there, premie ji, I've got a Boeing 707 to sell you. Ready to go, ready to fly.


Mon, Jan 17, 2000 at 10:25:40 (GMT)







London premie life
In that picture there are some premies wearing those (usually ill-fitting) suits and the ubiquitous moustaches. I still shudder to recall that sea of moustaches. As a young lad fresh from school in the country, it was somewhat of a culture shock to find oneself in drab South London, surrounded by these strangely uniformed people. The suits and the moustaches served, I suppose, to disguise the gaunt, macrobiotic, and spaced-out look that their wearers often had underneath. From the eyes, the staring, blissed-out, watery eyes, however, there was no escape.

The uniform was surely no reflection of current fashions. It proclaimed more that the wearer was a part of an unearthly society, as did the strangely antiquated moustaches. I could never bring myself to sport one, so deeply traumatised was I by the 'massed effect'. I do confess though, that I succumbed eventually to the wearing of suits in the ashram, and worse, those flamboyant ties. I am afraid to say that we probably took our fashion cues from Maharaji himself at that time. Embarrassing it is to contemplate, but nevertheless I distinctly remember those glossy photos of Maharaji wearing broad, emblematic ties (always a different one) and of course endless suits and watches of inestimable cost.

Of course we mustn't forget the sexless parachutes that all the 'sisters' wore. At least women like Claudia brought a touch of glamour to the premie world.

The Rolls-Royce (I think), the sunroof of which Maharaji is poking out of in the photo, was hired I believe, for the occasion. It was probably Mike Finch driving. Maharaji of course wasted no time in aquiring his own fleet of posh cars. Premie transport was almost always much more humble, although there was one South American coffee heiress premie who used to turn up in a chauffered Roller(she actually gave me a lift from the airport in it once) . I recall the many old heaps in which we would splutter around England and Europe to attend festivals. In the UK, the famous Ford Transit van did it's share of service(in the divine sense of the word) as did the Morris Traveller.

I think it would be amusing if Roger Drek were to create an illustrated web page in memory of premie fashions - any ideas? Does anyone remember those cartoons that a guy from London called Malcolm somebody or other did for the Divine Times? He captured rather well the premie look in his drawings, I thought.

5 Brighter than 1000 suns as seen through night vision goggles
4 As bright as the lights on Maharaji's jet
3 As bright as a 60 watt light bulb
2 As bright as a pile of burning ghi on a swinging arti tray
1 As bright as the inner light as seen by the third eye