Sep 2, 2010
Who Are the Raëlians?
The Raëlians are a UFO cult primarily known for falsely claiming to have cloned a human baby girl in 2002. They were started, and are currently led, by a dude named Claude Vorilhon, who supposedly had an encounter with a spaceship in 1974. The extraterrestrials inside the spaceship were called Elohim (the Raëlians claim that ‘Elohim’ in the Bible – which people think refers to God – is actually referring to aliens). The Elohim told Raël that they created every bit of human life on the planet from scratch, including us (because of this, Raëlians are essentially creationists, and often align themselves with anti-evolution causes). They told Raël he was part Elohim and he was to be their prophet on earth. It also seems the Elohim told Raël to wear weird white flowy science-fiction hippie clothes and put his hair in a little ponytail ball. It’s my guess that the Elohim did this last part as a prank on Raël to make him look foolish. I mean, considering they created us, they’d have to have some sense of human fashion, right?
I think it’s possible that all of Raëlism is simply a practical joke by some drunken aliens flying by one night:
“Dude, do you see that one bearded dude down there?”
“Oh! Haha! That one looks really stupid. Look at his eyes. They’re all kind of crooked and retardy.”
“Let’s go fuck with him.”
Then they go down and tell Claude Vorlihon to change his name to Raël, that he is one half Elohim, that they created human life, and that he is their prophet and it was his job to get the planet ready for their coming in 2035.
Because, honestly, if I could go into a forest and trick a bunch of monkeys into believing I was their creator, I would almost certainly do it.
The Raëlians Seem to Be Lying About Their Large Membership
The Raëlians claim to have 60,000 members worldwide. I can tell you this is almost certainly utter bullshit. There are two reasons:
1) Their primary website gets only a fraction of the amount of hits that this website gets. I would imagine, at best, the Raëlian site gets 2,000 hits a day. I would also estimate that most of the people who visit the site are folks searching out oddities like Mia and I do, and not actual members of the cult.
2) The North American “Happiness Seminar” which Mia and I attended, happens once a year and is one of the most important Raëlian events, where you can meet and listen to Raël himself. They talk about it for months and months beforehand and stress the importance of attending. How many attendees were there this year?… 226. AND a full forty of those attendees (including Mia and myself) were complete newcomers. That would mean less than .3% of all of the Raëlians in the world chose to come to this blessed event. Unlikely.
I’m betting there’s a couple thousand actual Raëlians at the very most.
Raëlians Are All About Effing (or Claim to Be)
Mia and I had each separately been interested in Raëlism for a while, because of their oddness and seemingly insane beliefs. And, admittedly, we were perversely intrigued because Raëlism is known as a sex cult – they’re believed to have wild sex parties, and Raël is known for his many young lovers. Many new members, mostly men, are brought in by a promise of sexual activity.
It’s also true that many of the Raëlian females are professional sex workers – strippers and prostitutes – as Raëlism is very accepting of this.
They also march sometimes in favor of public nudity. After looking at a lot of naked Raëlians online, I might have to join the PLEASE PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES BACK ON protest march.
The Order of Angels is a group of Raëlian women who have committed themselves to femininity at any cost, to protecting Raël with their own lives if necessary, and, seemingly, to dressing like ho bags. Raël helps to teach these young lasses how to be as feminine and sexual as possible, so that they will be prepared for the coming of the Elohim, at which point they will serve as sexual mates for the extraterrestrials. Within the Order of Angels is the upper echelon of Angels, who agree to sleep with only each other, and extraterrestrials and their prophets. Strangely enough, as it turns out, the only prophet/part Elohim on this plant at the current time is Raël. I’m certain this had nothing to do with the creation of the Order of Angels. As Rael keeps getting older and less attractive, he keeps giving more and more power to the Angels, seemingly as incentive to sleep with the increasingly disgusting dude.
It should also be noted that a large percentage of Raël’s Angels, if not most of them, are Asian. As is my girlfriend. This will be important in a moment.
The Raëlian Symbol Is Not Well Thought Out
Hmmmmm… That symbol reminds me vaguely of another symbol… Wow… I really wish I could remember… Oh, right! Those guys that killed all those Jews! What an AWESOME choice for a symbol!
What’s even better about the Raëlians proto-swastika is that they’ve been trying to raise money to build a Raëlian Embassy in preparation for the coming of the Elohim. You can’t see it in the photo above, but in the middle of that big landing hole is the Raëlian swastika. And what country did they try to negotiate with to build this beautiful building?
Next, the Raëlians will be opening ‘Death to Faggots-ville’ in West Hollywood, and The Ku Klux Klan Hall of Fame in South Central L.A.
The Raëlian Schedule of Events Looked Like Something for a Spring Break Keg Party
Mia and I registered for the seminar online, and were emailed a flyer with the schedule of events. The flyer had a cool 1997 junior-high-keg-party kind of vibe to it. I present it all here, because it’s too rich to be believed:
One of the things that lept out at me was the wet t-shirt contest at the Raëlian carnival on Sunday night. That was something I needed to see.
I Think a Raëlian Came on to Me
When we first arrived at the seminar, we went to a little pool party behind the hotel. Most the dudes there looked liked they had been made by splicing the genes of Jerry Garcia and Anton LaVey.
One of the first things I noticed was how disappointed dudes must be who show up for the promise of sexual activity. Most of the women (and men) seemed to be over fifty and, putting it nicely, didn’t look like health freaks. By far the vast majority of members are male, and the attractive women were nearly non-existent.
Mia and I weren’t considering having any wild sex parties with nubile Raëlians beforehand – but when we got there and saw what the participants looked like, our zero percent chance of swinging with cultists diminished to “I’m stabbing myself in the genitals with a spork just imagining it.” (You’ve probably never heard that percentage; I hadn’t either until I attended the Raëlian conference).
A few folks came up to us and introduced themselves immediately. One guy, named John, was from French Quebec (there are a lot of Raëlians from Montreal, it turned out) with a baby face and a mullety haircut (almost all Raëlians have long hair, and many have beards as well, as Raël claims that hair acts as antennae sending out telepathic waves [no, I’m not kidding]). He asked us where we were from and how we had heard about “Raëlism.” We would be asked this a lot in our time there. Mia would go on a spiel about how she had been interested in Raëlism for ten years, and had read all of Raël’s books, etc. She failed to mention that she read them for the freak factor, but oh well. We were posing as a couple who was legitimately interested in becoming members.
At first I thought John was coming onto Mia, but when Mia went to the restroom John appeared again at my side and asked me if I was staying at the hotel. I told him no, I was staying at another hotel, the Mandarin Oriental (highly recommended, by the way). John told me he would really like to see my room, wriggled his eyebrows, and skipped away. It was the least-effective way of trying to get me to be gay I had ever seen.
Needless to say, I fucked John in the ass zero times.
The Boss’s Daughter
Mia and I met Marina, who was in charge of “Integration.” If we had any questions, she would help us. She told us she was a former Playboy model, and shortly thereafter she introduced us to her mother, Brigitte Boisselier, the ditzy head of Clonaid, the company that claimed to have cloned the little girl – Brigitte is also Raël’s successor.
I actually liked Marina, and she seemed more level-headed than some of the other Raëlians around us. That is, if I didn’t know she was a Raëlian, I wouldn’t have known she was a Raëlian. Almost everyone else was so kooky you would immediately peg them as someone who believed a dude who looks like an extra from Logan’s Run was the messiah.
At one point the DJ put on yet another cheesy dance song and Marina asked us what kind of music we liked. We told her. She said she liked alternative music. Then she shook her head sadly, almost embarrassed, and said, “Raëlians have the worst taste in music.”
Pink Means You Are Gay
At the pool party, we were each given an introduction packet. Within the packet was a notepad for any insane ramblings we might want to take down, a gift certificate to the Happiness Academy store, and, most interestingly, a bunch of colored wristbands (well, pieces of ribbon) you could wear during your time in the seminar. The packet described that each color had a different meaning.
– RED means you are looking for multiple pleasures with different partners.
– GREEN means you aim for a relationship with a single partner.
– WHITE means you do not wish to be sexually solicited, whether you are involved in a relationship or you want to enjoy the seminars on your own.
– PINK means you are a homosexual.
– PURPLE means you are a bi-sexual.
I asked Mia if she thought there was a ribbon for “Raëlians are too ugly to fuck.” She didn’t think so. So we did the next best thing and put on the white ribbons.
Raël Was Disappointing
In the morning, we sat on folding chairs in a mid-sized banquet room in the hotel waiting for Raël’s arrival. Raël’s Angels were running around in extremely skimpy Mardi-Gras-like outfits. Normally, I would have enjoyed the scenery but, again, these weren’t the types of women you’d want to see dressed in slutty clothes.
As Raël came out onto stage, we all clapped and sang some happy Raëlian song. Raël looked like he does in the photos, with the white flowing robes and tiny samurai ponytail and off-kilter eyes. But, because he was a cult leader, I was hoping that he was going to have some inspiring cult leader charisma. I mean, I’ve seen old videos of Jim Jones. That dude could rock it! But I actually found Raël pretty boring after about ten minutes or so.
Most of his speech was possibly a translated Raffi song. He was saying, over and over again, that you shouldn’t find happiness outside yourself, but within yourself. YAWN. The New Zoo Review taught me that when I was seven, and the chicks there were wearing hot pants.
But there was a twist to Rael’s message! He revealed it was okay to find “a little happiness outside of yourself,” as long as you don’t take it too seriously. He then went on a strange digression talking about how it was okay to play “a little bit of slot machines.” He talked about slot machines for about half an hour. I looked around to see if anyone else was as confused by this as I was, but they were all looking on, transfixed and smiling and nodding their heads.
It was only later that I discovered that last year, at the same seminar in Las Vegas, Raël took the stage and gave a speech about how one shouldn’t gamble because it takes you outside of yourself. However, a couple of days later, he was photographed playing the slot machines in a local casino. One might think this would turn Raëlians off to their leader, as he’s a hypocrite. But it’s typical of Raëlians to forgive everything their leader does. Their attitude is essentially, “Oh, Raël, he is so silly!” I suppose this was the same attitude they had a few years ago when he pretended to have cloned a child.
It’s Important That the Raëlians Can See Mia’s Tits
After Raël’s speech, all the newcomers were asked to go up to a microphone on stage, one by one, and say what we did, where we were from, and how we first got the calling of Raël. Mia didn’t want to go on stage because she gets stage fright. I didn’t want to go on stage because I didn’t want to be recognized as the guy from Scream Queens or something. We tried to disappear in the crowd, but the Raëlians, who had met us the day before, grabbed us and led us up to the stage. We were at the very end of the long line.
Some of the people who announced themselves were especially heartbreaking. One short, nebbishy fellow with a poor complexion talked about how his whole life he felt like he never belonged anywhere. The people at his work laughed at him. He always had the feeling that aliens were trying to contact him, but he didn’t know for sure until he read Raël’s books. Now he felt like he belonged for the first time in his life. He seemed to need medication, but Raëlism was a way of making his magical thinking seem real.
A small Haitian black man came on stage and started talking and wouldn’t stop. He went on for a good fifteen minutes, until the Raëlians had to ask him to step off stage.
A pudgy little Raëlian dude was in charge of leading one of us after the other up to the stage. As he stood next to Mia, he stared at her. I mean STARED. He just stood there, looking at her up and down, completely unashamed, like a lust drunk dude at a strip club. After a few moments of this he muttered something to Mia.
“What?” Mia asked.
He touched the cardigan sweater she was wearing. “Here, take this off,” he said.
“What? Oh, uh, okay.” Mia took off her sweater. Both of us were a little confused by this, wondering if there was some Raëlian cardigan ban or something. It wasn’t until after she had done it and the pudgy dude set it aside that we both realized he just wanted her to show more of her body.
“Yes,” he said. “Rael will like that.”
We Announce Ourselves as Raëlians
Mia stepped on stage first. She can be extremely shy in public settings, so she pretty much stared at the floor and twiddled her fingers the entire time. She said that she had been interested in Raëlism for over ten years. She knew that Raëlians like to rationalize their nutty beliefs as “science,” so she said she liked the scientific nature of Raëlism, as both of her parents were scientists. As Mia spoke, I saw Raël’s eyes light up. He stared at her with a crazed look, smiling, and started whispering excitedly about her to one of the Raël’s Angels, a blonde woman beside him. Certain men react like this to my girlfriend – I had seen it before. I knew this was going to be trouble.
I went up after Mia and announced that I was from Los Angeles, I was a filmmaker, and that I was unsure of how to pronounce Raëlism. Everyone laughed. Then I went and took my seat next to Mia and said what I suppose I almost always say after I get off stage – “Was I funny?”
Raël: The Musical
As soon as the first part of the seminar ended, a French dude, Jean Claude, approached me with a translator. The translator told me that Jean Claude wanted to speak with me for a few moments. I told him sure.
They led me to the side of the room. I looked back to see if Mia was following me, but she was stopped by the blonde Raël’s Angel who had been sitting next to Raël.
Through the translator, Jean Claude told me that they are working on a movie about Raël and his music. However, they don’t want this to be some small film, but a real Hollywood extravaganza. And they needed people inside the Hollywood system to help get their film made at a big studio. Of course the idea is ludicrous – as if Warner Brothers would want to invest fifty million dollars in the Raël musical, when its sole appeal is to the 2,000 existing Raëlians. But I was pretending to be a Raëlian, so I told him that I thought it was a fantastic idea.
Then he asked me if we could have dinner that night, or lunch the following day. I wasn’t too enthusiastic about this – not only do I not want to listen to the silliest pitch of all time, but Jean Claude smelled so foul that I was feeling as if I was going to gag just standing next to him. I told him I wasn’t sure if I was going to be there tomorrow, so Jean Claude gave me his room number and told me to stop by there any time.
Yeah. Right. That’s going to happen.
I turned around to look for Mia. She was gone. I looked up toward the front of stage, and saw that she was SITTING WITH RAËL, surrounded by his bodyguards. As she spoke, he was staring at her with his same goofy, lovestruck smile.
Raël Wants to Fuck My Girlfriend
As I said, a few minutes earlier, when I was pulled away by Jean Claude, Mia was simultaneously accosted by the blonde Raël’s Angel. Her name was Lara.
“Our prophet would really like to meet you personally, because he was very taken by your presentation,” Lara told her.
Mia was psyched! She would get to meet the king himself! Lara led her up through Raël’s bodyguards to Raël.
Raël’s eyes widened and he smiled as she approached.
“I loved when you were up on stage!” he said. “I couldn’t believe my eyes! You were so beautiful! You were so feminine! I have to say I am completely in love with you!”
Raël grabbed her hands, pulling her down into the seat beside him. “Look at your hands! Look how feminine!” He stared at her. “Your face is perfect! You look exactly like an Elohim! I feel as if I am looking into the eyes of an Elohim!”
“Oh, yeah,” Mia said. “I read that they’re 4’9” beings who look like they’re Japanese. I’M four foot nine and Japanese!”
“Oh, I love Japanese women! I am completely in love with you!” He touched her knee.
Mia ignored this, going on: “Sometimes when I drink a cup of coffee and I look down into the coffee cup, I think my reflection there looks like a gray.”
Raël stopped. He smiled, trying to be polite about it, but said, “They prefer not to be called ‘grays’ or ‘aliens’. They like to be called ‘extraterrestrials’ or ‘Elohim’.”
Mia was shocked to hear that the Elohim, too, had a strong sense of political correctness. Later on I told her that she should have asked Raël if they cared if we called them “space gooks”. Was that considered disparaging as well?
“You are so beautiful and feminine! I am in love with you!”
Mia smiled, but started looking around the room, trying to find me. It’s also probably important to remind you that Mia had the white ribbon – the sign she didn’t want to be approached sexually – on her wrist the whole time.
“I have a beautiful house in Japan, you should come to visit!” He touched her leg again.
“Yes, uh, James and I are thinking about taking a trip together soon.”
“He’s my boyfriend. I don’t know where he went.”
“The guy who went up after you?”
Mia smiled and nodded, continuing to look around for me.
Raël went on, telling her numerous more times how he was in love with her and how feminine she was. He told Mia how much he loved her presence on stage. Mia said that he must like a retarded and autistic presence, considering how nervous she had been. Raël told her that he would be able to privately help her to get over her shyness. Then he started to lecture her on how to let go. Mia said she didn’t mind being shy, really, it was part of her personality. She sort of enjoyed the nervousness that comes from being on stage. Raël couldn’t seem to process that, and continued to tell her how to get over her shyness, how he could help her with it, as he continued touching her.
It was about this time I approached.
Jealousy and Douchebags
I’m not a jealous person. That said, when you’re in a room of two hundred people who all worship one dude, and you look up and see that dude sitting close to the woman you’re head-over-heels in love with, and he’s touching her leg… even though that dude is the world’s biggest douchebag… I have to admit, yeah…. something primal takes over, and I felt a bit possessive. I mean, it was obvious, even from that distance, that Raël was gaga over Mia.
However, there was the other side of me that knew that Mia was probably getting some awesome inside information from Raël, information I could possibly even use for this blog. And it was that side of me that won out, thinking we’d benefit from Mia talking to the cult leader a bit longer. So I went outside for some fresh air, and conversed with some Raëlians a little bit.
I met a European Raëlian named Andre with thick glasses and a tight puka shell necklace who told me he first received the message when he was eighteen, when he read Raël’s book, but he was afraid of it. But then he heard about a seminar in Europe, and he biked hundreds of miles in the rain to get there. He found himself when he found Raël, and he’s been to dozens of seminars around the world since. Andre then complained a bit about the seminar being in Las Vegas, as it’s not a very holy place. The North American seminar used to be in Montreal, and he liked that a lot more.
I also met a plain, innocent-looking woman in her late twenties named Katherine, who was a newcomer. Although talkative, she had difficulty looking me directly in the eyes. She had read about Raëlism online and was interested in checking it out. It seemed really cool, she told me. She giggled a lot. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her how in the world she could possibly take any of this seriously. I mean, honestly? Really?
Then I went back inside to get Mia.
As I approached Raël and Mia, one of Raël’s “bodyguards” stopped me by putting his hands on my chest. The bodyguard came up to my chin, so he was somewhat less than imposing.
“Where are you going?”
“To see my girlfriend,” I said. “She’s right there.”
It was then Mia turned around and saw me, as did Raël, and he invited me up to meet him.
I hugged Raël. I told him what a great honor it was to meet him, etc, etc. I was doing my best to conceal my alpha personality.
“Raël was just telling me how he had a house in Japan!” Mia said. “He invited us to come visit.”
Raël looked at me, nodded, and smiled in a way I knew that he wasn’t exactly inviting me to his house in Japan.
We chit chatted for a few minutes about Mia’s shyness and other bullshit, and then we left.
“Uh oh,” Mia told me as we walked outside the hotel.
“Raël told me he was in love with me.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I could tell.”
The Rest of the Conference
From then on, our time at the Happiness Academy was fairly unpleasant. We attended a few of the lectures – including a lecture on the joys of laughing by Lara, who was wearing incredibly tight pants, and a lecture on how to achieve peace through meditation by the North American head of Raëlism, which was one of the most boring hours of my life – which shows you you don’t need much to get ahead in the organization. You’re not schizophrenic? You’re able to stop yourself from shitting your pants in public? Bingo – you get Belgium.
We also went to the holy wet T-shirt contest at the “Carnival”. Like everything else, it was in the fucking banquet hall, which was somewhat of a hindrance to the Brazilian beach feel they were going for. Both men and women would jump into an inflatable kiddy pool and slap each others’ butts and dance to Samba music the DJ was spinning as they were squirted with a small hose, careful not to get the banquet hall carpet wet. I was surprised when I saw that Katherine, the plain girl I had talked to the day before, was one of the participants. She started grinding with one of the guys in the kiddy pool. Once everybody was wet, they lined them all up, and the moderator held his hand over each participant as we clapped for who we thought should win. I tried to clap harder for the sadder cases, as they weren’t getting as much applause. After the event was over, I saw Katherine collapsing into one of the other Raëlian’s arms, crying. I’m not sure if it was because she was embarrassed by her behavior, or because she came in second. Whichever, it was disturbing.
But every time we went back to the seminar we were accosted by one or more of Raël’s Angels, who would hold Mia’s hand, tell her how beautiful she was, and try to separate her from me so that they could tell her about the Order of the Angels and get her to join. It was, frankly, irritating and creepy. After all, Mia had the white wristband on, we were trying to enjoy ourselves, and we were unable due to what was now bordering on harassment.
We can only guess, but the effort to indoctrinate Mia into the Order of Angels was so consistent and non-stop, it seemed it could only come from Raël himself, who was obviously smitten with Mia. The executive order seemed to have been sent out: “I want to fuck that midgety Japanese girl.” I’m not even certain that Jean Claude, the stinky French filmmaker, wasn’t really just the classic wingman, a way to get me away from Mia so that Raël could speak with her alone.
I’m a pretty open guy. I think some of what are branded as “cults” are really just smaller religions whose ideas are weird – but weirder than the idea that a few thousand years ago someone actually built a giant boat that was able to fit two of every single species on the planet? Not really. Honestly, if I was told either Scientology’s outer space Thetans reincarnating into my body or a literal interpretation of the Bible was actually true, and I’d have to bet all my money on one, I’d go for the Thetans. So when I first started hanging with the Raëlians I thought they were goofballs, but fun loving and harmless. But after Raël saw Mia, the whole tone of the event shifted. There seemed to be a slight malevolence to everything. The whole purpose of the seminar suddenly seemed to be for Raël to get Mia where he wanted her. And it wasn’t only Mia – that suddenly seemed to be the whole purpose of Raëlism in the first place – not to usher in a new era of our extraterrestrial creators, but to justify, and to facilitate, one old pervert’s Asian fetish and thirst for power.
Damn. Every single fucking time I join a UFO sex cult I’m so thoroughly disappointed.
I changed a couple of names in the above article because some of these people were nice, well-meaning people, and I felt bad. Most of them are real, however.
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