Mead and Musings: How Cults Work

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  • čas přidán 29. 06. 2024
  • Honey Heist Mead Company, Cobden, Illinois, hosted me for this presentation. It was a great night.

Komentáře • 8

  • @isarose3136
    @isarose3136 Před 10 dny +1

    That was very brave, T. And BOY the receipts!! The Karbala thing...just...wow. Wow.

  • @chriskukowski398
    @chriskukowski398 Před 10 dny

    Thank you for posting this :)

  • @EmberHolly
    @EmberHolly Před 9 dny +1

    Frankly, even if the magic was real, that doesn't give someone the right to have control over people in the way these folks often do. It's destructive, as everyone is imperfect and therefore nobody should be given ultimate control.
    Thank you very much for this interesting presentation.

    • @quityourcult943
      @quityourcult943  Před 9 dny +1

      @@EmberHolly that’s a really good point! Thank you for the comment.

  • @SaffronHammer
    @SaffronHammer Před 9 dny +1

    Being born into a cult and entering a cult as an adult have very real and significant differences .

    • @quityourcult943
      @quityourcult943  Před 9 dny

      @@SaffronHammer absolutely. My kid was named by the guru. Their way out is soooo different.

    • @SaffronHammer
      @SaffronHammer Před 9 dny

      @@quityourcult943 in reading research about cult trauma and recovering from cults, one huge difference is that we born-ins never had a True Self to go back to. Being raised in a cult from infancy, causes us to stay in an adolescent mindset, emotionally and intellectually stunted. If one wakes up at age 30, 40, or 60, those of us born in must go through all the learning that young adults do normally--so much to learn. And the healing from the trauma of being raised in a Doomsday cult, thinking since infancy that the world is ending any day, any minute, and that an angry god will kill you for your last mistake, for even thinking the wrong thing--so much healing on top of so much learning. I do not have a brain that was never imprinted with this terror. My brain never knew a minute of rest. Constnatly vigilant, on high alert. Our only social interactions were with fellow cult members, and the threat of being cut off--shunned--loomed over our heads from before I had learned to read--I knew doing the wrong thing, believing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing would get you cut off from family, the entire social group, as well as eternal destruction.