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Mon, Feb 22, 1999 at 22:54:19 (EST)








What is a premie?
How do you tell 'em apart - I mean, If you wanted to study premicus fuckwiticus in the wild...?

Well, the first thing any anthropologist worth the academic loincloth would need is an 'operational definition' of their subject matter. Not always an easy task...

On the one hand, there are many so-called premies who live out on the fringes of proper commitment in real life, or Australia, but will rally round to stick up for M on this forum whenever the going gets tough. No names mentioned (You owe me one, Bruce!), but you know the types I mean.

How many videos a week does a Peeple Wiv Nolledge paid-up club member need to watch to be a full-on (not 'devotee' - you can't say that), er, Knowledgeable Person?

There are others, like me, who for years after having quit the guru and wasn't watching any videos per week at all, would never hear a bad word said about his lardship. Not practising as such, but still bewildered captives, willing to concede that in the final analysis, when the dice are cast and the heavenly trumptets fart and the Divine United Organisation replace world governments everywhere, Prem Pal Singh Rawat will throw down that last bottle (sorry... gauntlet) and reveal himself Lord of the Unicorns, stealing nine Oscars and receiving rapturous applause from all life forms on earth as we know it, including Satpal, finally humbled in the face of his sibling's better English and superior divinity.

So who among us, I ask you, is truly a premie? (How much meditation did you do this morning, Red Heart? Probably between twenty and twenty-five minutes, at a guess, if that... Why? - Because meditation is a chore. Why is meditation such a fucking chore, I ask you? Remember what it is supposed to be about - BLISS. Why isn't it? Why is it just so much like TM when you're all alone under that blanket? C'mon, you've forgiven yourself now, so there are no excuses...)

Anyway, I've been holed up in my Ivory Tower doing some headcount stuff in idle moments. BTW: It was M's new mantra that kept me lily-perfect above the muddy pond, whilst the grubby numberwork was going on: 'Heart will win. I will be sober', I mumbled quietly to myself, not entirely convinced. (Don't let the sound of your own guru drive you crazy...)

The interim findings: the following site visitors, I reckon, are/have been certifiable premies:

Les, op, CD, Aesop, Petrou, Diver Dan, Student, A Premie, Passin' Thru', Red Heart, Ron, Bruce, Mel Bourne, Nil, Orlando, Mili... (and many, many others too fleeting or boring to mention)

The following, I think, are still sort of honorary premies:

Salah, Becky, Memphis Belle, Bobby and Keith. (correct me If I'm wrong, folks). You have mainly moved on to spiritual pastures new, but see Maharaji as a valid step along the way.

And these last two are not quite premies nor ex's:

Denise and SHP. (Hi Denise - It is pretty rude of me to talk about you, when we haven't even met, but, believe me, I'm not yet saying anything nasty about you. Nor even about you Sandy. Read on...)

Jeezus God, I'm labouring this. The point I'm trying to get back around to is this: My definition of a premie... this:

Somebody who will not hear a bad word said about Maharaji

Denise and SHP are very unsual for premies in that they have both hinted/implied/whispered it quietly that Prem Rawat might not, after all, be beyond criticism . They will at least meet you half-way.

As for the rest, however, it is the words 'equivocation', 'prevarication' and 'sophistry' that spring to mind. I mean, just watch Red going it somewhat down below, bending semantics into exciting new shapes, and claiming that M was never a leader. (Red, even if you agreed with me on certain issues, I don't think I would ever want you on my side in an argument)

And then there is Passin', bless 'im, still trying to maintain that only an idiot would have ever believed that the Krishna-suited Maharaji to whom we surrendered the very reins of our life to, ever claimed to be anything more than that very nice meditation teacher in the church hall up the road who rolls a neat tombola and pours a nice cup tea.

Yup, whether or not they would acknowledge the definition, even if they realised it, the answer to the question: 'what is a premie?' is this:

Somebody who believes Maharaji is beyond criticism.

Simple sums: 'beyond criticism' = 'perfect', and nobody is perfect, apart from God (if you believe in that sort of thing). It is exactly like the editing policy at - now proven beyond dispute. You may not, on that website, claim that Maharaji is 'a living incarnation of God' but nor may you suggest for one moment, however subtley, imply that Mr Rawat is less than perfect.

You can't have it both ways, folks.

Premies still believe Maharaji is God.

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