Who is Paul Haggis - Marty Rathbun

The Many Personas of Paul Haggis

siteadmin — Sun, 14 Apr 2013 13:00:00 +0000

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Who Is Mike Rinder?

siteadmin — Thu, 17 Nov 2011 00:48:22 +0000

Mike Rinder is a former executive of the Church of Scientology who was removed from his position for incompetence and gross malfeasance. Despite generous attempts by seniors to help him straighten out and come clean, Rinder eventually deserted his church, his wife of over thirty years and his two children and skulked off. He ignored every attempt by his family to communicate with him and instead soon took up with a younger woman and became a used car salesman. After failing just as miserably at that career, Rinder threw in with another apostate, Mark “Marty” Rathbun. Together they are involved in a scheme to discredit the Church of Scientology and its leadership for the purpose of lining their own pockets.

Mike Rinder: A History of Neglect and Corruption

Mike Rinder has a weakness for status and the limelight. As a spokesman for the international Church, he was admittedly incompetent and in over his head, but also admitted that he was so slick, arrogant and underhanded that for years he hid it well, blaming his transgressions and incompetence on circumstances, other staff, even the press he was charged with informing. In truth, his history as a staff member was one of laziness, negligence and corruption aided by the fact that he was often in the field and able to fabricate events and his statistics to make himself look good. But the truth was ugly. During one aborted attempt to come clean, Mike Rinder wrote of himself:

"I fell asleep at my desk many times. This was when working on events—virtually every one I’ve done in the last 5 years. I was not confronting the writing of speeches. In fact, I was not wanting to confront what I was doing at the time—being irresponsible... I am now known for falling asleep. This has happened 50 times in the last 5 years and probably 20 times at my desk in the last 2 years."

“I was very lazy and did everything based on the ‘seat of my pants.’ From the outset I have been off purpose and out ethics.”

“I wanted to be important and maintain my status and I put that well before the well being [sic] of the organization. I have been anti-organization. I have had to lessen the importance of the organization and group in order to continue to live with the overts [transgressions] I committed.”

“I avoided responsibility by deliberately remaining ignorant of situations, hoping that a junior would handle them. This ‘it’s got nothing to do with me’ attitude in flying my hats right up the Org Board. This was motivated by a cowardly desire to have someone other than me to blame if the situation blows up. It ignored the actual consequences, because when these situations explode, it has always been Chairman of the Board who handled them… I have done this many times throughout the years—from legal cases to media situations and government attacks.”

“The cost to the Church through my neglect of situations has been huge, because these situations have blown up and turned into hugely expensive matters in terms of both money and distraction.”

— Mike Rinder

Rinder’s list of transgressions goes on and can be viewed here.

Mike Rinder and Mark “Marty” Rathbun: Partners in Crime

Mike Rinder had worked closely with Marty Rathbun for years and the two had much in common. Their years in Scientology organizations were spent dumping work and responsibility on juniors, avoiding training at all costs, and honing the one and only skill both possessed: an ability to deceive. Individually, and as a twisted “team” that covered each other’s crimes, Rathbun and Rinder put the Church in direct and substantial legal jeopardy by ignoring and subverting Church policy. They then passed the buck for the disasters they created up the chain of command, while at the same time sabotaging the Church’s efforts to legally defend itself. To protect themselves, they literally hid evidence that would have cleared the primary individual they pinned their own crimes on – the church’s ecclesiastical leader, Mr. David Miscavige.

Both Rathbun and Rinder were caught at different stages, demoted, and given numerous opportunities to redeem themselves but neither ever had the courage to truly clean up his act. Instead each wandered off – Rathbun in 2004, Rinder in 2007 – deserting their families in the process, and were eventually excommunicated.

By 2008 both found themselves flat broke and without an honest skill between them. Rinder was living in Denver selling used cars; Rathbun (after squandering an inheritance in the same manner in which he squandered church funds) was sweeping floors in Texas. Rathbun, a renowned egomaniac, desperate for money and out for revenge, came up with a wild plan to “take over” Scientology by painting himself as an aggrieved victim of injustice and offering himself to the internet fringe as a purported “savior” of L. Ron Hubbard’s technologies. To support this deceit Rathbun scraped together a ragged band of excommunicated apostates he had known in the past, who now lie for him to the press and to the public, likely in the vain hope that if Rathbun somehow manages to cash in from this scheme, they will share in the wealth.

But Rathbun’s plan relies heavily upon disseminating these lies through the media, and for that he needed and sought out Mike Rinder’s help . Even though the pair had been both allies and enemies while on staff [in 2004 Rathbun suddenly and inexplicably leapt at Rinder across a conference table and beat him to a pulp] they generally stuck together if only to have someone to provide cover.

Allergic to work as always, Rinder saw the opportunity to line his pockets and knew exactly how to go about it. The twisted team was back in business.

Rathbun has a megalomaniacal sense of his own importance due to the years he spent working in the shadow of a great man, Mr. Miscavige. Rinder, also a status-freak, has his slick PR arrogance and a wealth of media contacts from his days as a church spokesperson. Putting their warped egos together, they spin tales rife with blatant lies specifically and carefully designed to appeal to those media outlets that have a penchant for anti-Scientology stories – the same media outlets that the pair intentionally antagonized in the past. They satisfy these media outlets’ thirst for controversy by feeding them wildly sensational and alarming falsehoods so bold they are unlikely to be recognized as the fabrications they are. And to gain maximum press attention, they attempt to pin the lot on Mr. Miscavige; the same man who treated them generously and with great compassion, giving them ample opportunity to change their ways when they failed. In other words, the man they had harmed most.

The reason becomes evident when one realizes that for years Mike Rinder hid from the Church’s ecclesiastical leader the role he played in concealing the suborning of perjury and obstruction of justice committed by Marty Rathbun and another former staff member and current conspirator, Tom DeVocht. Only after the statute of limitations expired on Rathbun’s felony did he admit to it, and even then he and Rinder twisted it in a way to try and blame the Church and Mr. Miscavige.

Rinder and Rathbun would be put rapidly out of business were they not paid for their anti-Scientology press junkets (whether by direct fees as in the case of the British rags or through all-expenses-paid vacations offered by the odd news agency or anti-religious organization) and generally financed by apostate Robert Almblad, a.k.a Robert August, an “inventor” whose claim to fame is a questionable “clean ice” machine. Reportedly, Almblad is also “a financier of hate crimes and a virulent anti-Scientologist who keeps Rinder afloat and funds Rathbun’s cult as well.” (See The Violence of Marty Rathbun & his Cult Militia)

Mike Rinder: Deserter of a Family in Need

Among Rinder’s schemes was an attempted “photo op” that he hoped would set up the church to be blamed for the rift between Rinder and his family that he so manifestly created all by himself.

One day, as part of their discredit-the-church scheme, Rinder showed up at a church building, with his girlfriend and Rathbun wielding a camera to “document” the event, demanding to see the son he had deserted years before. It seems the hope was that this demand would be denied so it would appear the church was denying him access to his family. But Rinder’s son did come to the door and told Rinder he had no interest in seeing him.

The son had good reason. He had just recovered from an excruciating three-year battle with cancer, largely thanks to his church whose staff welfare executives had secured the services of the foremost specialist in the world in melanomas to treat him. His mother had traveled to see his father years earlier to alert him to the situation, but Rinder treated her with such hostility that she was unable to communicate with him, and at no time during the followings years did Rinder ever even bother to ask after his children’s welfare.

Yet here was Mike Rinder, along with fellow Scientology-haters, now attempting to wreak havoc on a church premises with video camera and recording devices, all under the pretense of “documenting” that he cares about his family.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Rinder’s family are long-time Scientologists. His father (now deceased) and his mother were founding members of the Australian branch of the church, and his brother and sister, as well as his wife and children remain active, dedicated members.

After deserting his wife and kids, Rinder also cut all contact with his elderly mother in Australia, despite repeated letters from her. Just as ruthlessly he cut contact with his brother and sister. But this did not stop them from reaching out to him. Rinder’s brother, Andrew, flew all the way from Australia to accompany Rinder’s former wife, Cathy, and their daughter, in one effort to contact him. But upon seeing them, Rinder reacted with such hatred that he physically attacked Cathy, gouging and stripping the flesh from her arms so severely it caused nerve that is still healing almost a year later, and dislocating her shoulder, an injury that required surgery to repair. Andrew returned to Australia with a near-broken finger from his attempt to aid his sister-in-law.

In revenge, Rinder later went on a paid anti-Scientology media junket to Australia where he tricked his way into his elderly mother’s retirement home while she was away on vacation. Earlier, the senior Mrs. Rinder had attempted to reach her son by letter and reason with him but to no avail. Now, owing to his vicious attacks on the church that she helped to establish in Australia, she wants nothing to do with him. As a last insult, before he left her room, Rinder rifled through her belongings, snapping photos as trophies.

Mike Rinder: Violence toward Women

But Rinder’s best efforts to destroy his former church and its leader, has in many ways backfired. Following Rinder’s departure from staff, several women came forward and made the following declarations, revealing that Rinder had a well-concealed history of intimidating and physically abusing female colleagues.

Female Victim #1

“I knew he was going to hit me, so I put my hands over my face. He grabbed me by the shoulders in a very strong, tight and painful grip (squeezing my shoulders very hard) and began shaking me violently, toward him and away from him, back and forth rapidly... He kept on shoving me back and forth and then, on a back shove, threw me against the wall hard enough that it hurt my rib cage, knocked the breath out of me and I bounced off the wall….”

Some years later, and well away from witnesses, another incident occurred:

Female Victim #2

“He placed both his hands on an 8-by-11-inch wooden clipboard he was carrying, did a half turn, swung and hit me on the side of my face with the clipboard, using the full force of his body… I developed a severe toothache. The pain became quite excruciating. The dentist…found that it had been cracked and had to be removed.”

A third woman who work in the same area as Rinder had inexplicably left staff some years ago, much to the surprise of her colleagues. Today, her reason is abundantly clear, as the following was submitted to the Church after she had read of Rinder’s other transgressions:

Female Victim #3

“I needed financial approval to purchase something, but I was worried as I had been told in the past that Mike Rinder would not approve this type of purchase. I mentioned my concern to a colleague as to whether or not Rinder would approve the request, but I was advised to make the request and turn it into Rinder anyway, which I did...

“He came out into the hallway, walked right up to me and physically slammed me against the wall. He used his right forearm up against my chest and moved toward my throat in a choking position, my head was pinned against the wall and I was desperately trying to get him to move his arm down by pulling down on his forearm with my two hands… Rinder never apologized for that incident, for slamming me against the wall, for upsetting me or anything. That was the beginning of my thinking about leaving..."

Mike Rinder: Tallying up the Destruction

“The enemy actions I was engaged in were destructive to all of Scientology and ultimately every person on Earth. The magnitude of the overts is almost incomprehensible.”

-- Mike Rinder

Prior to his departure, Mike Rinder would only vaguely admit to the damage he did to the church as being “hugely expensive.” Marty Rathbun blithely put a figure on the damage he personally caused of $43,799,000.

That was as of September 29, 2003. In a recent publication devoted to the issue, the Church takes a different view of the total cost of the “monumental disasters” created by Marty “Mark” Rathbun, in which Mike Rinder was often complicit:

“He [Mark “Marty” Rathbun] was being very conservative and the damage is far higher. For by engaging in his own psychotically motivated war, he also distracted Church leaders who ultimately had to clean up his mess. Then, too, he diverted Church funds from humanitarian programs to help Mankind, not to mention the creation of new Church facilities to service the greater community of Scientologists and the communities in which they work.

“Since the discovery and removal of Rathbun, the endless series of “unexplainable” external battles and legal cases has “magically” ended. Indeed, the Church has emerged victorious in country after country with religious recognitions as well as precedent-setting decisions in the European Court of Human Rights. Moreover, with the Church’s resources now dedicated to the religion itself, in the last decade the size of the Church has doubled what it had achieved in its first 55 years of existence.”

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Another violent outburst by Rathbun ends in jail time

siteadmin — Sun, 09 Oct 2011 02:10:20 +0000

What's worse than having a nasty confrontation with someone first thing in the morning?

If you're violent anti-Scientologist Marty Rathbun, how about having another confrontation later in the day - and 2000 miles away from the first one.

That's how Rathbun started the month of September - like a crazed maniac.

The first target of his wrath was investigative reporter Jim Lynch. As Rathbun arrived at the Phoenix airport for a flight back to Texas early on the morning of Sept. 1, Lynch was there to ask Rathbun a question.

Instead of a no-comment, or, just silence (something that Rathbun is incapable of), the burly anti-Scientologist responded by madly swinging a large suitcase square into Lynch, who fell to the sidewalk.

As is usual with Rathbun, law enforcement turned up in the shape of TSA agents and officers of the Phoenix police department. Somehow, the hulking Rathbun was allowed to board his flight.

And while no one knows what he ingested on the flight to Texas, Rathbun was primed for more violence when he arrived home late that day.

Documentary filmmaker Jim Moore bore the brunt of this attack - as Rathbun lunged at him, pulling his glasses off Moore's head - and - in the process gouging two bloody claw marks on Moore's forehead.

Moore's offense - going about his business on a public street. Why it drew Rathbun's paranoia and white-hot anger remains a mystery.

The filmmaker filed a police report, but, it wasn't his first brush with the violent Rathbun. In another earlier incident, Rathbun hosed down Moore's cameraman’s equipment - causing extensive and expensive damage.

For Rathbun, it might have been a first - starting and ending his day with out-of-control violence.

Later, he reaped the rewards of his physical outburst – a brand new shiny pair of bracelets (handcuffs) – as he was arrested and carted off to jail by a Sheriff’s deputy.

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Shielding Her Violence-Prone Husband

siteadmin — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 07:00:00 +0000

Marty Rathbun's wife has been stepping in to shield her violence-prone husband lately.

That's the conclusion of observers who, recently, have seen a bolder and more determined "Mosey" at her husband's side.

Or, possibly, a wearying Rathbun is fronting his wife as a deflector to questions he is trying to dodge, or, unable to handle.

One prevalent theory has Mosey concerned that her husband is going to literally burst a gasket with rage, given the out-of-control manner in which he has been dealing with routine reporter queries.

As one videographer who has been on the scene when Rathbun blew up says: "Marty is really losing it quickly when he's asked the simplest of questions. The veins in his temple start throbbing and his agitation is obvious - and intense."

A source traces the none-too-subtle change to a recent encounter in Phoenix, where a reporter's query to Rathbun was met by an outburst of physical violence.

After losing control, the source says Rathbun stopped for a minute in a distinct pause as if he was reflecting that he could not, physically, stop his own actions any longer.

That's when Mosey stepped in to deflect any more questions aimed at her husband who, silently and sheepishly, slipped inside the airline terminal.

The dynamic marks a distinct change in the couple - as if Rathbun is looking for his younger wife to protect him - strange behavior for the 6-foot, 220-pound cult leader who has always relied on his physical presence to intimidate critics and lash out with force at subordinates.

But, now, the question also must be answered: How long will Mosey be able - or even willing - to soldier on after her husband's imaginary enemies?

We'll be watching.

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New talking head for Hamburg hatemonger

siteadmin — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 07:00:00 +0000

It was a strange sight to see Marty Rathbun out of his usual work-out gear and sans baseball hat - the one that he wears backward.

That's the outfit he's usually wearing when he's going psycho on someone or screaming in a person's face.

This time Rathbun was in a suit, dressed up for his "hosts" who awarded him an all-expenses-paid trip to Hamburg, Germany, in return for his appearance at a staged press - make that propaganda - conference.

One wonders what Rathbun's "counseling" clients think about their "counselor" making the rounds with the hate-mongering Ursula Caberta, who has devoted her career to attempting to destroy their religion.

And, what do they think about Rathbun hanging out - at the same propaganda conference - with the Hamburg chapter of the cyber terrorist group Anonymous? That's the same group that has waged a crusade to destroy their religion. The same group that has members in US prisons for hate crimes.

But, in Hamburg, there was Marty Rathbun extending his meaty paw to the group's leader Gambit, who, by the way, makes his living on the Reeperbahn - Hamburg's notorious red light district.

The only one who seemed to be missing was Josef Goebbels.

Rathbun - either knowingly, or not (it's hard to say which is worst), was no more than a stooge, a tool, a cardboard cutout to be used by Caberta, sleazy lawyer Graham Berry and Anonymous for their vile, hate-filled religious attacks.

Yes, indeed, what would Rathbun's counseling clients think about that - and how would they feel about Marty and wife Monique sashaying around on a freebie visit to Berlin? It was all paid for by Caberta and her hate-mongering ilk.

Anything for a price - for Rathbun it sure beats hanging around Texas in a backward baseball cap.

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How Lawrence Wright Got It So Wrong

siteadmin — Sat, 23 Jul 2011 20:30:00 +0000

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Paul Haggis

admin — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 22:42:34 +0000

PAUL HAGGIS: A status-driven screenwriter who exploited a tenuous connection with Scientology to grab headlines via a publicity stunt whereby he "resigned" from the Church-when he had not been an active parishioner for decades. Haggis, whose betrayals include accepting millions for scripts that he never delivered, was himself exploited by the New Yorker's Lawrence Wright, who approached him for a "profile" that simply used Haggis to tell a slanted story about the Church. Find out more about Paul Haggis, a member of Marty Rathbun's Cult Militia:

Marty Rathbun: Violent psychopath, cult militia leader

Long before his stunning fall from grace and expulsion from the Church of Scientology, Marty Rathbun was a practitioner of violence.

It was violence he perpetrated furtively, in secret.

It was the violence of a coward.

And, as cowards do, Rathbun—when confronted by his violence—would tearfully confess.

Punching his victims, throwing them over tables, shaking them, slamming them into walls and filing cabinets and, then, gleefully bragging about his brutish, thuggish behavior, it all spilled out in Marty Rathbun's own words.

Later, after he walked away from the Church for the third and last time, it became apparent that Rathbun would never see the folly of his own aberrant ways.

It was impossible—for that self-absorbed aggression so embraced by Rathbun had morphed into the destructive actions of a violent psychopath.

And, no matter how he disguised it, whether as the “good old boy” of South Texas, the self-proclaimed counseling Guru of the Gulf, or, even as a militia leader, Rathbun's actions would soon conform to a highly-flammable mix of erratic, sudden, and, dangerous violence.

Modeled after religious cult militias which make their headquarters across the rural Midwest and desert Southwest, Rathbun makes his base in Texas.

And, like the cult militia whose members the FBI arrested in Michigan in 2010, Rathbun fancies himself “born again” in his messianic zeal and rage against his former, established religion.

A look at one close-up photo is all anyone needs to discover that Rathbun’s eyes glow with a psychotic gleam—one that is a perversion of anything considered religious.

And from his Texas base, Rathbun dispatches his programmed militia members throughout the country to commit acts of violence—the same drug-fueled violence that he, sources say, advocates in his so-called counseling sessions.

Indeed, even when still in the Church as an external affairs officer, Rathbun would go out of his way to start a war, pick a fight, or find the next enemy.

No matter whether those enemies were imaginary, seen only by him.

Now bitter, in exile, he seeks revenge against those who gave him every chance to repent and reform.

Those who offered him comfort—and solace—over and over again.

Barely contained with pent-up resentment, sometimes he's pushing, shoving and spitting—as his face lights up with incandescent rage.

Other times, his features contorted, Rathbun is slamming a car door on an investigative reporter, knocking him down with a packed suitcase, and, gouging welts on the face of a documentary filmmaker.

And—on other occasions—he's drunk and trying to storm his way past a Bourbon Street bouncer, or, being cited for trespassing after butting into a security guard.

To the practiced eye, to those who know Marty Rathbun, there is a pattern to his psychotic behavior. Just as there is a pattern to other religious militia cults whose members endorse violence while proclaiming themselves “soldiers” in pursuit of some unseen enemy.

“Rathbun is a classic bully and a coward,” says a source who knows him well. “He has a repeated history of being violent and he always blames it on the people he victimizes.”

The source explained how the rage boils up—and over—in Rathbun:

“You can see him slowly burn as he puffs up his chest and his eyes start to roll back in his head,” the source said. “When those eyes start to go, that's when Rathbun goes physical.”

Just over the span of the last two years, Rathbun or one of his cult surrogates has done precisely that—”going physical” on 13 separate occasions on a violence-filled spree that has crisscrossed the country.

Rathbun was arrested in Texas, has spent the night in a New Orleans holding cell, and, has been cited for trespassing in Florida.

The cult militia leader who, sources say, espouses violence and drug use as part of his so-called counseling, wrote his own (at least once in blood) travelogue of terror that included:

BUMPING AND STRIKING

May 2010: It was a chance encounter at an airport with a former associate that set Rathbun into a spasm of rage.

The camera caught Rathbun's face close-up—the skin stretched taut, the teeth clenched. He has lost any grip on rationality as he repeatedly bumps and pokes the former associate while screaming at him.

Luckily, as is often the case with a bully, Rathbun—who had initiated the confrontation—backed off.

For what reason did Rathbun explode?

Simply because the former associate had the temerity to inquire about Rathbun's current activities.

BUSTED IN NEW ORLEANS

July 2010: In a classic escalation of violence, Rathbun had his second encounter with police in less than three months.

The scene was a seedy bar on the corner of Toulouse and Bourbon Streets in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

This was the foul-smelling bar—called the Funky 544—that Rathbun picked to celebrate his marriage to third wife Mosey. The two were in the Big Easy on their honeymoon.

Rathbun and his bride downed shots in the bar until the wee hours and the next day would have to be told of the evening's festivities since each had suffered a blackout.

As Mosey danced provocatively for the crowd, reportedly groped by fellow drunkards, her new husband was outside on the street, shirtless, “harassing other tourists,” as the police report reads.

It was when Rathbun tried to get past a bouncer and back into the Bourbon Street dive that mounted officers made their move—pinning the noisy and nasty drunk to the wall.

He was taken to jail, photographed and booked on charges of disturbing the peace and public drunkenness.

According to one of the arresting officers, a handcuffed Rathbun cried like a baby in the back of a police cruiser.

It was fitting that Rathbun would be bailed out of jail by anti-Scientologist Jason Beghe, who has his own criminal record for hate-fueled assault. A small time Hollywood actor, Beghe was on probation for beating up an officer of the court so badly he had to be hospitalized. When he assaulted a house guest over the guest's use of a weed whacker, he made tabloid headlines.

DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY

April 2011: Eyebrows arched and eyes rolling into the back of his head, Rathbun next went berserk on two filmmakers, peaceably filming a documentary.

The setting was outside Rathbun's house in Ingleside on the Bay, Texas.

The filmmakers' offense: Asking a few questions.

Again, law enforcement was called. By this time, a police presence had become synonymous with Rathbun's rage.

This act of violence marked the first time that Rathbun destroyed personal property, as he viciously ripped a microphone out of the hands of filmmaker John Allender, rendering it useless.

Just prior, Rathbun had used the brute force of his beefy 220-pound-body to violently push Allender's colleague, Rich Hirst, out of the way.

When a Sheriff's deputy arrived, the filmmakers decided not to press charges.

ASSAULT IN SANTA MONICA

May 2011: It was Memorial Day when investigative reporter Jim Lynch experienced Marty Rathbun's violence firsthand.

The assault took place on a quiet residential street in Santa Monica, California.

Lynch's offense: Asking Rathbun a question.

It was a balmy spring evening, after the dinner hour, when Lynch chanced on Rathbun who was waiting for a car to pick him up.

The reporter had established that there were stories of Rathbun's cult practicing violence and indulging in illegal drugs, and Lynch wanted to get his side of the story.

When Lynch posed the question, Rathbun looked at him and robotically chanted: “What time is it, what time is it.”

As a surprised Lynch met his gaze, only a second or two passed before Rathbun brushed past him. His car and driver, Mike Rinder, had arrived.

As Rathbun got into the vehicle, Lynch carefully leaned forward and posed his question.

Rathbun didn't respond.

Then, in rapid-fire succession, the enraged Rathbun slammed the passenger-side door three times on Lynch’s shoulder, just before the car sped away.

A few hours later—after being treated for a bruised shoulder in the emergency room of St. John's Hospital in Santa Monica—Lynch was filing assault charges with the police.

The case is pending.

It would not be Lynch’s last meeting with Rathbun.

“DON'T TOUCH ME, BOY”

June 2011: A few days later Lynch saw Rathbun up close again. It was not a pretty sight.

The location was a parking lot in Hollywood, California. And Lynch was asking a yes-or-no question.

This time Rathbun aimed his anger at one of Lynch's colleagues.

As Rathbun fixed his gaze on the colleague while uttering his signature—and offensive—line, “Boy...,” his facial skin tightened into a mask, his pupils rolled back, showing only the whites in his eyes, and his seething chest swelled up.

It was a moment when Lynch thought Rathbun would burst into an all-out physical attack—as he brushed, in a threatening manner, into Lynch’s colleague.

But, as is typical with a bully and a coward, Rathbun backed down.

ANOTHER CAR DOOR SLAMS

June 2011: This time it was Rathbun's lackey, the simplistic Mike Rinder, who took a page from his idol's playbook.

Given his lack of imagination and spine, in retrospect it was not unusual that Rinder would play copycat to Rathbun. Just as it is not unusual for religious cult militia members to deify and even worship their fanatical leaders.

Rinder, in fact, had once stated that he “emulated” Rathbun to the extent that he considered himself Rathbun's “clone.”

Again Jim Lynch saw Rathbun's violence on display—from yet another surrogate, or, “clone.” Rinder.

That's the same Rinder who, a little more than a year ago, attacked his ex-wife outside a doctor's office in Florida. In that assault he gouged and stripped the flesh from his wife's arms so savagely that she required surgery to repair nerve damage.

It was lunch hour in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Lynch’s investigation into the business practices of Robert Almblad, a shady businessman who had allegedly defrauded investors of millions, was in full throttle.

Unable to get a response from Almblad, Lynch decided to pose a question to Rinder, his “public relations” executive.

But, as he climbed into the backseat of an SUV in the parking lot of a fish house, the rattled Rinder was in no mood to talk.

His eyes hidden behind black sun glasses, the rage coursing through Rinder's body was almost palpable.

And, he responded much like Rathbun had done just 10 days before.

As Lynch asked a question through the half-open door of the SUV, Rinder ignored it and snidely baited him.

“Jim, you know what, I think you should stick your arm in the car again.”

And, suddenly, he slammed the door hard...just as Lynch backed away.

For Rinder, it was a poor man's Marty Rathbun response.

THIS GUN FOR HIRE

June 2011: Even when Rathbun is not physically present, he still manages to spread his toxic mix of hatred and violence through surrogates.

Again, reporter Lynch was on the receiving end.

It was in a residential neighborhood of Palm Harbor, Florida where Lynch was involved in what could have been a deadly encounter with Rathbun associate Stephen Reynolds.

Reynolds works with Rathbun's crony and fellow anti-Scientologist Mike Rinder. Their paymaster is Robert Almblad, the businessman subject of Lynch’s investigation. Almblad is an inventor and a con artist. He also is a financier of hate crimes and a virulent anti-Scientologist who keeps Rinder afloat and, in turn, is suspected of siphoning what are believed to be ill-obtained funds to Rathbun in order to keep his small cult in business.

When Lynch approached Reynolds in the driveway of his home, he met the reporter's questions with a string of obscenities, before disappearing into the open garage of the house.

Out on the street, Lynch was getting into a car when a colleague shouted a warning.

It was Reynolds, who had reappeared and was standing on the driveway, both hands holding, and pointing, a .45 caliber hand gun directly at Lynch's back.

Later, the reporter reviewed the video footage which showed the brazen act, complete with Reynolds clearing the chamber of the weapon, as Lynch and his colleagues drove away.

Reynolds—who shows that Rathbun's violence has reached a new level of menace—pleaded no contest to improper exhibition of a firearm in Pinellas County, Florida.

SPITTING, SCREAMING, THREATENING

July 2011: A blistering sun marked the day when Rathbun seemingly self-imploded with what appeared to be a flood of violent thoughts that cascaded into violent action.

And, it took place—on two separate occasions no less—where one would think the anti-Scientologist would be most relaxed: outside his Texas home.

Again, the target of his wrath was some nearby documentary filmmakers standing on public property some 30 feet away.

Rathbun appeared to be baiting the filmmakers, trying to pick a fight with them.

Resorting to his two favorite words, a wildly-gesticulating Rathbun threatened them with shouts of “boy” and “punks.”

At one stage, the hulking Rathbun, dressed in a black muscle shirt and matching shorts and spewing profanities, put his hand on a filmmaker’s chest while furiously pointing a finger at another.

“Listen to me. ... I'm telling you something...do you hear me?” the enraged Rathbun barks at the cameramen.

And, later in the day, Rathbun mounts a bicycle, rides by and spits on the documentary makers as they take a break on a public street.

As one eyewitness said: “Marty looked and acted like he was insane that day.”

ATTACKING A SENIOR CITIZEN

August 2011: Ten days after his encounter with Jim Lynch, Mike Rinder was still seething when he turned up with his boss, Robert Almblad, at the Miami Beach Convention Center for a trade show.

They were there to exhibit Almblad's so-called “safe ice machine.”

Lynch was there in pursuit of Almblad who has gone to great lengths to avoid being interviewed regarding how he lures investors to put their money in various inventions that don’t always pay off.

That day the “clone-like” Rinder—”emulating” cohort Rathbun—had a very short fuse.

As Lynch approached to ask him a question inside the convention hall, Rinder suddenly lunged at him, striking his chest in a futile effort to rip his name tag away.

For the next two hours, Rinder shadowed Lynch’s every move as he visited other vendors at the trade show.

But it was near the end of the day when the unstable Rinder suddenly attacked a convention visitor.

And at 71 years of age, the visitor was no match for Rinder who grabbed him by his shirt collar and hauled him through the convention hall, until a fireman put an end to the abuse.

It was the same type of violence practiced by Rathbun—the violence of a psychotic coward who bullies imaginary enemies. Just 24 hours later, Rathbun would unleash his garden hose, as if it were a weapon—to spray it full force into the face of the filmmaker.

THE SUITCASE ATTACK

September 2011: The first day of the month was clear in Arizona and at 7:30 a.m. the temperature was already in the 90s.

That was the hour Jim Lynch arrived at Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport to ask Marty Rathbun a question concerning his so-called counseling sessions. The erratic cult leader was catching a flight back to his Texas home.

As Rathbun and his wife exited a pick-up truck at the curb-side check-in, Lynch politely approached.

But now, in what had become a pattern, Rathbun erupted when he saw Lynch.

Standing at the rear of the truck with his back to Lynch as he unloaded luggage, Rathbun suddenly pivoted, swinging a large suitcase with all his might.

When it smashed into Lynch’s chest he was momentarily stunned and wound up sprawled on the sidewalk.

Lynch remembered the unhinged look on Rathbun as he went down.

As well as the hysterical—and psychotic—taunts and insults he screamed, along with the sadistic smile of a woman accompanying Rathbun, a woman who, it turned out, was one of Rathbun's cult cronies.

This was Rathbun with all his demons unleashed—his similarity to other religious militia groups exposed.

RATHBUN DRAWS BLOOD

September 2011: The suitcase attack that morning at the airport in Phoenix was a prelude to a more sinister—and serious—attack that Rathbun would launch later in the day.

With his resentments doing a slow burn on the flight back to Texas, Rathbun—always ready to pick a fight—wasted no time after returning to his Ingleside on the Bay home.

And, yet again, for one last time (until the next time) the innocent documentary filmmakers were his target.

As they did a shoot on the public street near his house, Rathbun—dressed as usual in shorts and muscle shirt—burst directly into their midst.

Exploding into a tirade inches from the face of filmmaker Jim Moore, Rathbun suddenly shot out his hand and grabbed Moore's eyeglasses.

In the process, Rathbun's claw-like grab inflicted two bloody gouges on Moore's forehead.

As one eyewitness later said: “Rathbun was like an angry gorilla that day.”

Only this time...Marty Rathbun drew blood—and the attention of the Texas authorities who placed him in handcuffs.

Yet, chameleon-like, Rathbun easily slipped into the role of victim. As a Sheriff's deputy slapped on the cuffs, Rathbun plaintively said to wife: “Would I ever hurt anyone, Mosey?”

And while Mosey dutifully answered “No,” there are now too many victims and observers who have suffered, or, who have witnessed Marty Rathbun's violence.

The violence of a psychopath.

The clock is ticking on militia leader Marty Rathbun and his cult of violence.

TO BE CONTINUED

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The Violence of Marty Rathbun & His Cult Militia

siteadmin — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 02:15:36 +0000

(continued from page 1)

Other times, his features contorted, Rathbun is slamming a car door on an investigative reporter, knocking him down with a packed suitcase, and, gouging welts on the face of a documentary filmmaker.

And - on even other occasions - he's drunk and trying to storm his way past a Bourbon Street bouncer, or, being cited for trespassing after butting into a security guard.

To the casual observer Rathbun's violence seems to erupt from nowhere - always unprovoked.

But to the practiced eye, to those who know Marty Rathbun, there is a dark pattern to his psychotic behavior. Just as there exists a pattern to other religious militia cults whose members usually endorse violence while billing themselves as "soldiers" in pursuit of some unseen enemy.

"Rathbun is a classic bully and a coward," says a source who knows him well. "He has a repeated history of being violent and he always blames it on the people he victimizes."

The source explained how the rage boils up - and over - in Rathbun:

"You can see him slowly burn as he puffs up his chest and his eyes start to roll back in his head," the source said. "When those eyes start to go, that's when Rathbun goes physical."

And, just over the span of the last two years, Rathbun or one of his cult surrogates has done precisely that - "going physical" on 13 separate occasions on a violence-filled spree that has crisscrossed the country.

Rathbun is the subject of a criminal investigation in California, has been arrested in Texas, has spent the night in a New Orleans holding cell, and, has been cited for trespassing in Florida.

The cult and militia leader wrote his own travelogue of terror that included:

THREATENING AND BUTTING

April 2010: In what would become a signature Rathbun moment, the disgraced anti-Scientologist and his partner in crime, fellow apostate Mike Rinder, turned up at the Church's Fort Harrison Hotel.

The purpose of the visit was as pathetic as was it cruel - the duo came with video equipment to film Rinder in a vain and craven attempt to see the son he had neglected for the past 3 years, who worked at the hotel. That son, Benjamin, was recuperating after cancer treatment and had no intention of seeing his father, partly because Rinder had been living a half-hour's drive away for the past nine months and had never been in contact with him when he was in the hospital at the height of his cancer battle.

Establishing what would soon become a pattern, Rathbun - a toothpick dangling out of his mouth - took the lead and immediately lashed into security guard Grady Snyder. Butting his thrust-out chest into Snyder, Rathbun was at his most brutish as he wagged his finger while yelling in the guard's face: "Show me the line, boy."

The derogatory and patently offensive use of the term "boy" would not be Rathbun's last.

Only the quick arrival of the Clearwater Police Department stopped Snyder from having to defend himself against the threatening Rathbun who, along with Rinder, was cited for trespassing.

The incident at the Fort Harrison Hotel was, for Rathbun and Rinder, the first of many run-ins with the police.

BUMPING AND STRIKING

May 2010: It was a chance encounter at an airport with a former associate that set Rathbun into his next paroxysm of rage.

The camera catches Rathbun's face in the throes of a dark fury - the skin is stretched taut, the teeth are clenched. Rathbun has lost any last grip on rationality as he repeatedly bumps and pokes the former associate, screaming at him all the while.

Luckily, as is often the case with a bully, Rathbun - who had started the confrontation - backed off.

And, why? For what reason did Rathbun explode?

Simply because the former associate had the temerity to inquire about Rathbun's current activities.

BUSTED IN NEW ORLEANS

July 2010: In a classic escalation of violence, Rathbun had his second encounter with police in less than three months.

The scene was a dank and seedy bar on the corner of Toulouse and Bourbon Streets in the heart of the French Quarter in New Orleans.

This was the foul-smelling pig sty of a bar - called the Funky 544 - that Rathbun picked to celebrate his wedding to wife Mosey. The two were in the Big Easy on their honeymoon.

Rathbun and his bride downed shots in the bar until the wee hours and the next day would have to be told of the evening's festivities since each was suffering a blackout.

As Mosey danced provocatively for the crowd, reportedly groped by fellow drunkards, her new husband was outside on the street, shirtless, "harassing other tourists," as the police report reads.

It was when Rathbun physically tried to get past a bouncer and back into the Bourbon Street dive that mounted officers made their move - pinning the noisy, and nasty, drunk to the pavement.

He was taken to jail, photographed and booked on charges of disturbing the peace and public drunkenness.

According to one of the arresting officers, a handcuffed Rathbun cried like a baby in the back of a police cruiser.

It was fitting that Rathbun would be bailed out of jail by anti-Scientologist Jason Beghe, who has his own criminal record for hate-fueled assault.

DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY

April 2011: Eyebrows arched and his eyes rolling into the back of his head, Rathbun next went berserk on two filmmakers, peaceably filming a documentary.

The setting was outside the cult leader's house in Ingleside by the Bay, Texas.

The filmmakers' offense: Asking a few simple questions.

And, again, law enforcement was on the scene. By this time, a police presence was synonymous with Rathbun's rage.

This occasion of violence marked the first time that Rathbun destroyed personal property, as he viciously ripped a microphone out of the hands of filmmaker John Allender, rendering it useless.

Just prior he had used the brute force of his beefy 220-pound-body to violently push Allender's colleague, Rich Hirst, out of the way.

When a Sheriff's deputy arrived, the filmmakers decided not to press charges.

ASSAULT IN SANTA MONICA

May 2011: It was a Memorial Day when investigative reporter Jim Lynch experienced Marty Rathbun's violence firsthand.

The assault took place on a quiet residential street in Santa Monica, California.

And all he did was ask Rathbun a simple question.

It was a balmy spring evening, after the dinner hour, when Lynch chanced on Rathbun who was waiting for a car to pick him up.

After establishing that there had been stories of his cult practicing violence and indulging in illegal drugs, Lynch wanted to get his side of the story.

When Lynch posed the question, Rathbun looked at him - his eyes cold as ice - and robotically chanted: "What time is it, what time is it."

As Lynch met his gaze, surprised, only a second or two passed before Rathbun brushed past him. His car and driver, Mike Rinder, had arrived.

As he got into the vehicle, Lynch carefully leaned forward and posed his question.

Rathbun didn't respond.

Then, in rapid-fire succession, the enraged Rathbun slammed the passenger-side door three times on Lynch’s shoulder, just before the car sped away.

A few hours later - after being treated for a bruised shoulder in the emergency room of St. John's hospital in Santa Monica - Lynch was filing assault charges with the city's police.

The case is pending.

But, it would not be Lynch’s last meeting with Rathbun.

'DON'T TOUCH ME, BOY'

June 2011: A few days later Lynch saw Rathbun up close again. It was not a pretty sight.

The location was a parking lot in Hollywood, California. And, Lynch was asking a simple yes- or-no question.

This time Rathbun aimed his barely-contained rage at a colleague.

It was then, in the afternoon daylight, that Lynch saw Rathbun's simmering anger and penchant for out-of-control violence boil up like unspent lava from a volcano.

As he fixed his gaze on Lynch’s colleague while uttering his signature - and offensive - line, "Boy...," his facial skin tightened into a mask, his pupils rolled back, showing only the whites in his eyes, and his seething chest swelled up.

It was a moment when Lynch thought Rathbun would burst from his seams - into an all-out physical attack - as he brushed in a threatening manner into Lynch’s colleague.

But, as is typical with a bully and a coward, Rathbun backed down.

Out of fear...for himself.

ANOTHER CAR DOOR SLAMS

June 2011: This time it was Rathbun's lackey, the simplistic and clueless Mike Rinder, who took a page from his idol's playbook.

Given his lack of initiative, imagination and spine, in retrospect it was not unusual that Rinder would play copycat to Rathbun. Just as it is not unusual for religious cult militia members to deify and even worship their fanatical leaders.

Rinder, in fact, had once stated that he "emulated" Rathbun to the extent that he considered himself Rathbun's "clone."

So, again Jim Lynch saw Rathbun's violence on display - from yet another surrogate, or, "clone" Rinder.

That's the same Rinder who, a little more than a year ago, had attacked his ex-wife outside a doctor's office in Florida. In that assault he gouged and stripped the flesh from his wife's arms so savagely that she required surgery to repair nerve damage.

It was the lunch hour in Tarpon Springs, Florida. Lynch’s investigation into the questionable business practices of Robert Almblad was in full throttle.

Seeking a response from Almblad, Lynch decided to pose a question to Rinder, his "public relations" executive.

However, as he climbed into the backseat of an SUV in the parking lot of a fish house, the rattled Rinder was in no mood to talk.

His eyes hidden behind black sun glasses, the seething resentment that - like Rathbun's - that coursed through Rinder's body was palpable.

And, he responded much like Rathbun had just 10 days before.

As Lynch asked a question through the half-open door of the SUV, Rinder ignored it and snidely baited him.

"Jim, you know what, I think you should stick your arm in the car again."

And, suddenly, he slammed the door hard...just as Lynch backed away.

For Rinder, it was the poor man's Marty Rathbun response.

THIS GUN FOR HIRE

June 2011: Even when Rathbun is not physically present, he still manages to spread his toxic mix of hatred and violence.

And, in another mark of a coward, he does so through his cult surrogates.

Again, this investigative reporter found himself on the receiving end.

It was in a residential neighborhood of Palm Harbor, Florida where Lynch had what could have been a deadly encounter with Rathbun associate Stephen Reynolds.

Reynolds works with Rathbun's crony and fellow anti-Scientologist Mike Rinder. Their paymaster is Robert Amblad, another subject of Lynch’s investigation. Almblad is an “inventor” who manages to convince naïve investors to fund his projects. He also is a financier of hate crimes and a virulent anti-Scientologist who keeps Rinder afloat and funds Rathbun’s cult as well.

When Lynch approached Reynolds in the driveway of his Florida home, he met Lynch’s questions with a string of obscenities, before disappearing into the open garage of the house.

Out on the street, Lynch had just gotten back in the car when a colleague shouted a warning.

It was Reynolds, who had reappeared and was standing on the driveway, both hands holding, and pointing, a .45 caliber hand gun directly at Lynch's back.

Later, the reporter reviewed the video footage which showed the brazen act, complete with Reynolds clearing the chamber of the weapon, as Lynch and his colleagues drove away.

Reynolds - who serves to show that Rathbun's violence has reached a new level of menace - is charged in Pinellas County, Florida.

SPITTING, SCREAMING, THREATENING

July 2011: A blistering sun marked the day when Rathbun seemingly self-imploded with violent thoughts cascading into violent action.

And, it took place - on two separate occasions no less - where one would think the anti-Scientologist would be most relaxed: outside his Texas home.

But relaxation is nowhere to be found in the shrinking universe of Marty Rathbun.

Again the target of his wrath was some nearby documentary filmmakers standing on public property some 30 feet away.

The unprovoked Rathbun appeared to be baiting the filmmakers, trying to pick a fight with them.

Resorting to his limited vocabulary's two favorite words, a wildly-gesticulating Rathbun threatened them with shouts of "boy" and "punks."

At one stage, the hulking Rathbun, dressed in a black muscle shirt and matching shorts and spewing profanities, putting his hand on one of the filmmaker’s chest while furiously pointing a finger at another.

"Listen to me....I'm telling you something...do you hear me?" the enraged Rathbun barks at the cameramen.

And, later in the day, Rathbun mounts a bicycle, and on a public street as the documentary makers sit and rest, when he is passing them, savagely spits at them.

As one observer who was there said: "Marty looked and acted like he was insane that day.”

ATTACKING A SENIOR CITIZEN

August 2011: Ten days after his encounter with Jim Lynch, Mike Rinder was still seething when he turned up with his boss, Robert Almblad, at the Miami Beach Convention Center for a trade show.

They were there to exhibit Almblad's so-called "safe ice machine."

Again Lynch was there in pursuit of Almblad who has gone to great lengths to avoid being interviewed regarding how he gets investors to put their money in various inventions that don’t always turn out well.

That day the "clone"-like Rinder - "emulating" cohort Rathbun - had a very short fuse.

As Lynch approached to ask him a question inside the convention hall Rinder suddenly lunged at him, striking his chest in a futile effort to rip his name tag away.

And, this time, Rinder had no sunglasses to shield his eyes. Eyes burning with rage and hatred.

For the next two hours Rinder shadowed Lynch’s every move as he visited other vendors at the trade show.

Tailing Lynch and filming his every step seemed to be a strange way to discharge his "public relation" duties.

But it was near the end of the day when the unstable Rinder suddenly attacked a convention visitor.

And at 71 years of age, visitor Ed Bryan was no match for Rinder who grabbed him by his shirt collar and, physically, hauled him through the convention hall, until a fireman put an end to the abuse.

It was the same type of violence as practiced by Rathbun - the violence employed by a psychotic coward who bullies imagined enemies. It would be only 24-hours later that Rathbun would unleash his garden hose, as if it was a weapon in hand, to spray it full force into the face of filmmaker.

THE SUITCASE ATTACK

September 2011: The first day of the month was a clear day in Arizona and at 7.30 a.m. the temperature was still in the 90s.

That was the time Jim Lynch arrived at Phoenix's Skyharbor Airport to ask Marty Rathbun a simple question concerning his so-called counseling sessions. The erratic cult leader was catching a flight back to his Texas home.

As Rathbun and his wife exited a pick-up truck at the curb-side check-in, Lynch politely approached.

But now, in what seemed to be habit, Rathbun erupted when he saw Lynch.

Standing at the back of the truck with his back to Lynch as he unloaded luggage, Rathbun suddenly pivoted, swinging a large suitcase with all his might.

When it smashed into Lynch’s chest he was momentarily stunned and, having lost his balance, wound up sprawled on the sidewalk.

But, Lynch remembered the unhinged look on Rathbun as he went down.

As well as the hysterical - and psychotic - taunts and insults he screamed.

This was Rathbun with all his demons unleashed - his similarity to other religious militia groups exposed.

RATHBUN DRAWS BLOOD

September 2011: The suitcase attack that morning at the airport in Phoenix was a prelude to a more sinister - and serious - attack that Rathbun would launch later in the day.

With his resentments doing a slow burn on the flight back to Texas, Rathbun - always ready to pick a fight - wasted no time after returning to his Ingleside on the Bay home.

And, yet again, for one last time (until the next time) the innocent documentary filmmakers were his target.

As they did a shoot on the public street near his house, Rathbun - dressed as usual in shorts and muscle shirt - burst directly into their midst.

Exploding into a tirade inches from the face of filmmaker Jim Moore, Rathbun suddenly shot out his hand and grabbed Moore's eyeglasses.

In the process, Rathbun's claw-like grab inflicted two bloody gouges on Moore's forehead.

As one witness who was there later said: "Rathbun was like an angry gorilla that day."

Only this time...Marty Rathbun drew blood - and the attention of the Texas authorities who placed him in handcuffs.

The clock is ticking on militia leader Marty Rathbun and his cult.

TO BE CONTINUED

Page Type:

Generic

Marty Rathbun: A Violent Psychopath

siteadmin — Sat, 09 Oct 2010 02:11:59 +0000

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