“A Novelette Based on Fact”
Little did we know that Jon Trott’s free flight to Washington, D.C., was going to cost us a lot of money. All we knew that August night was CNN’s “Larry King Live!” had called Jon and that same day hustled him onto their program. Why? Jon had urged Cornerstone readers to boycott Dead Air, Bob Larson’s book about SRA (satanic ritual abuse). Larson, one unhappy camper, would be on the show debating Jon.
We, as Jon’s fellow conspirators in the great ARASE vs. ARASSS debate (that’s “adult ritual abuse survivor enhancers” versus “adult ritual abuse survivor syndrome skeptics”), viewed the program with delight. But what we didn’t see was what happened afterward. That night, on the phone from his hotel, Jon filled us in on the confrontation in CNN’s nefarious “Green Room.” “As soon as Larry King was out of the room, Larson said, ‘Trott, you’ve got a really big SRCS [satanic ritual chip on your shoulder]! Then he told me point blank to go to… Denver,” Jon said. “He says he’s got evidence galore there, and that I’m a chicken-liver if I don’t go! I almost slipped out the door, but then he got me… the SRDDD — satanic ritual double-dog dare!”
Jon might have gotten his Montana slang in there, but the idea was clear. “Go for it,” we said, “but not without one of us!” Thumbs up all round, we vowed we’d either find Larson’s evidence, and eat humble pie by publishing it in Cornerstone, or there wouldn’t be any evidence and we’d confront Larson about using vulnerable women to enhance his ratings sweep.
Our Chicago partner made the call to BLM (that’s Bob Larson Ministries, folks). Dates were set, the light was green, and my Bob P. ran out to get the cheapest round-trip ticket to Denver he could find. The result? $238 for one CNRF (cheap non-refundable) round-tripper. There went our year old fund for the new Xerox machine. Oh, well, a small price to pay, all in the name of research, truth, and the biblical way…
Now I confess I’d had my doubts about Mr. Larson’s phantom evidence since August thirteenth (no, it wasn’t a Friday). I’d been debating Larson on KKLA’s “Live in L.A.,” the radio program hosted by Christian attorney and minister John Stewart. I had simply kept asking for evidence, but Larson was so busy using rhetoric and filibustering that he could only try to enlist the on-air support of his very own ARASSS (adult ritual abuse survivor syndrome speciman), “Susie.” Now, I didn’t think “Susie” had actually suffered the abuse she evidently believed she had, but I wasn’t about to join Larson in on-air exploitation. Maybe my refusal to play Larson’s game with “Susie” is what provoked him later during the show to ask if I could be convinced if he could bring a fallatio-performing Satanist on his knees before me in the studio. And Larson wonders why we question his psycho-sexual imagery?
But now my husband and Jon were going to see it all, and one way or another, we’d have some things cleared up about this SRM (satanic ritual mess). Then Jon called, and it must have been a Monday. (You know, weird stuff happens on Mondays.)
“You won’t believe this,” he said, “but Larson’s secretary Bonnie Belle called, and said Larson thinks we’re writing a book about him.” Uh, oh. I didn’t know about any book. But maybe I was a multiple personality victim, and one of my alters was ghostwriting. “Anyway,” said Jon, jarring me into reality, “Larson says that since we’re trying to ‘get him,’ we’ll take the list of SRA victims he has and smear their names in public.”
Right, Jon. Like I refused to with Susie? We weren’t the ones trotting these clients out of the therapy room and onto the media circuit! But I could see it coming already, “Let me guess,” I moaned. “We’re SRBH’s… satanic ritual bag holders.”
“Affirmative,” intoned the ear-piece. “He says we can’t come, that we’re not welcome. And I told Ms. Belle about your CNRF ticket, too!” I moaned again, and hung up the phone. The ticket. What would my husband say? (It wasn’t swearing, but we’re not holding our breaths for the new Xerox.)
But, ever hopeful for Christian dialogue and resulting understanding, I gave Bonnie Belle a call. Once I finally talked with her a week later, she told me a completely different story! The alleged book wasn’t the problem; an alleged radio appearance by me was the problem! (Gee, another multiple personality?)
Bonnie Belle tried to explain. See, she claimed I’d gone on the air via KKLA the day after my debate with Larson and messed him over in his absence. She accused me of SRTS (satanic ritual “trash and slander”). Only trouble was, I hadn’t been on KKLA since the debate. (Those pesky alters?) But when I called John Stewart, just to make sure, he confirmed my URM (unrepressed memory). He called Bonnie and told her so. But Bonnie demanded that Stewart hand over the SRTT’s (satanic ritual transcript tapes) of the entire week’s programming. Maybe she wanted to hear them backward?
After listening to them in at least one direction, Bonnie called my husband. She admitted that the tapes had no evidence of my voice anywhere on them, to which my husband replied, “So are you going to apologize to Mrs. P.?” I won’t say any more, but Belle made sure Bob P.’s ears rang for the next week.
One afternoon, I sat next to my husband, who’d gotten philosophical about our adventure. “Well, honey,” he said, “no Xerox machine, and macaroni and cheese for the next two weeks. But it was worth it… wasn’t it?”
I wondered. We’d only wanted evidence, evidence of any real kind. Seems like the ol’ SNOT (satanic noise obscuring truth) had been used on us again. But let’s let bygones be bygones, I reasoned. My husband came out of the kitchen with some white fluffy stuff in a bowl. And I dropped in a video of good old Christian television from a couple weeks before…
By golly, it was Trinity Broadcasting. And there he sat, Mr. Larson himself. Next to him sat Hal and Kim Lindsay, along with Johanna Michaelson. They spent the next two hours vilifying “the critics,” — who, us? — for being SISSY (stupid, ignorant, secret satanist yahoos) who kept on whining for evidence. Lindsey compared MPD sufferers (multiple personaity disorder) to the Apostle Paul and Larson accused us of being prudes.
Oh, yeah, evidence? I guess they don’t think they need it when broken promises, name calling and talkin’ dirty are so much more fun. Somehow the popcorn seemed a little stale. Last I looked, God was still on His throne, not ol’ Slewfoot.
(Real author’s name is being protected; her prose is endangered from a hidden conspiracy of religious media personas.)