Welcome to the Boy’s Club!

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Joined: Tue Feb 26, 2013 7:16 am

Welcome to the Boy’s Club!

Post by LadyKiwi » Mon Apr 29, 2019 9:52 am

I have been asked to post the following by a member who is unable to post at the moment.
Welcome to the Boy’s Club. The Plymouth Brethren Boy’s Club. The former Exclusive Boy’s Club. Where men who claim they are men, band together in a power huddle and run their little empire, whispering behind their hands and constantly looking for chinks in the armour of their imagined adversaries and any reason to run them out of town. Where secret deals are done. Where allegiances are demanded and reward given to those who toe the line and feed the beast they most wish to be close to. The Grand Poobah – the Granddaddy of them all. The Elect Vessel. The Man of God.

For sixty years this has been the case- where good men are ruled out with a clandestine phone call, a whispered accusation or an unsubstantiated allegation. Some of the second layer of this extremely shaky hierarchy took the ultimate, death defying plunge in 1970, catching the then ‘Grand Master’ in an extremely compromising situation red handed (drunk with another man’s wife in his bed) and somehow they got thwarted along with their evidence and run out of town and the church, never to return. Their names made mud by the supporters of this spectacular failing oligarchy. The Boy’s Club.

Those closest to Ground Zero at the time, left by the thousands, while the rest of them, once the news had travelled around the world, were served with the threat of expulsion if they dared to believe such rumours, let alone even talk about them. As mad as any dictatorship. As crazy as North Korea.

To call the Plymouth Brethren a religion is analogous to calling Scientology a church. Because neither descriptor fits the true purpose of what really goes on. It is a Boy’s Club. Where power hungry men gather and are noticed by the higher ups. Where the higher ups pander and jockey in position in the hope of getting a word in or being noticed by their leader. In Scientology it is the man who has given the most money or who has a celebrity career. A Boy’s Club. In the Plymouth Brethren it used to be the men with the best understanding of their version of the scriptures. Not anymore. It’s all about money and the quest for more of it. Got loads of dosh? Mister Hales will see you now.

The trouble with any religion, which has this mindset as its basis, is that two things go west. Firstly the underpinning doctrine of what they are supposed to be all about in the first place. And secondly the following masses, the people who don’t have loads of money or lots to say. Of course in both organizations, these types of men grow by getting a foothold onto the ladder of ‘gift giving’. Do it right and you are set for life. Become one of the dozen or so inner-circle lieutenants and you are laughing. Able to ring the big boy in a heartbeat. Able to shuttle whispers of non-compliance and discuss punishment, which in the case of both organisations means destroyed lives and families. There are thousands of victims who will attest to this. But the relentless PR machines of both camps drowns out the real whimpers of inhumanity and evildoing.

When Taylor finally went right off the rails and died of drinking too much hard liquor, his successor became the biggest supporter of the Boy’s Club syndrome the ‘church’ had ever seen. The whispers from letters and late night phone calls to the busiest phone line in that town of 350 souls, Neche, North Dakota, came in every night. Whispers of non-compliance. Charges of ‘evil’ and of being ‘out of line with the current leadership’ of the church flowed in and Symington took them all on board and delivered his judgments with ruthless consistency. Anyone who was a rival in that they were also potential ‘Men of God’, were rubbed out in the first couple of weeks. Their families destroyed in many cases. The slightest hint that you might not be fully 120% supportive of his position meant you would be leaving skid marks as you protested your innocence as they dragged you out the door. And your executioners then couldn’t wait to report to the Symington hotline that his will had been done. It still rankles me to this day that a pig farmer in North Dakota, whom I had never met or set eyes on, brought the guillotine down on me despite me never committing a sin worthy of me being ‘withdrawn from’, changing my entire life in the process and destroying my family. How dare he!

If you were good at being an emerging ‘Brother’ in this Boy’s Club, you were for the high jump. Symington sat up in bed while looking out at his expanding acreage of North Dakotan dirt and dismissed the fact in his mind that he had only ever sat on a tractor seat for most of his life and not in a boardroom. For this reason he hated educated people and clever businessmen. And men who were clever with words or the dissemination of the same doctrine he himself pretended to base his life on.

In Symington’s world, there could only be one Grand Poobah and through some stroke of luck and power juggling, he had scored the top gig. All others were sent to the ‘tower’ for beheading. Respected men with generations of history in this ‘thing’ were thrown out on their backsides, never to return. Wondering what the hell they did wrong. Wondering how it had all come to this. Good men were lost in their hundreds. They soon realized that this was not the Christian organization they always thought it was. It was just a Boy’s Club.

Symington relished his new power trip, as he gazed past his dusty overalls hanging on the bed post and pondered on the fantasy of how a simple dirt and pig farmer like him, could have an impact on so many people’s lives around this world he now controlled. The money started to flood in. He issued instructions that visitors to him and his part of the world should courier it, in cash. In envelopes. This ‘harvest’ was the best one he had ever reaped. No need for plowing or seeding or putting out buckets of pig swill, you just sat back and watched the envelopes arrive and when they had left, he sat up at his kitchen table in all probability and counted the proceeds into bundles and more bundles. Until it hit the million and a half mark. And more. He then bought a lot more land for himself and new tractors and equipment. Symington’s Farm and reputation became so big, if you look up Neche, the most famous person who ever came from there was him. ‘World Leader of the Exclusive Brethren’. Neche’s most ‘notable’ man. His dungaree buckles strained as his chest swelled. Finally Symington was a man with real local credibility. Who needs an education!

I remember the ‘up and coming’ young ‘brothers’ of my youth. They were smart with their words, glib with their retorts, quick on their feet and they chased around the country in their white shirts and Brylcreamed hair hoping to be noticed and to be asked to ‘speak’. They scanned the cream of the Brethren women, who had to have either privileged or connected bloodlines or attractive parents and set about trying to be leaders in their part of the globe. They jockeyed for invitations to the once a year ‘Levitical meetings’ in the hope of being viewed by the Big man himself as a confidant and supporter with the promise of ultimate leadership on their ‘Brethren’ patch and a resulting automatic conduit to Neche or Sydney today. This is real currency in the Plymouth Brethren Boy’s Club.

During a relatively short tenure, ‘Man of God’ Symington caused more upheaval in the Brethren than any other leader before him. He stopped all further tertiary education. He decreed that Brethren could only work for Brethren and not worldly employers. No one could be a teacher, a government worker, a doctor, a lawyer or a raft of other normal professions. He brought down the well-to-do Brethren too, to his level of living. They left their comfortable homes in up-market suburbs and were forced to live with the real working classes. His reasoning was not clear but it was undoubtedly to bring people down to a true level of subservience to him and also to most probably free up more dollars for the Symington Farm expansion plans. He said at the time that he ‘had no qualms about taking Brethren money and spending it on himself as he had helped them for years- for no return.’ Symington also banned anything to do with technology, right down to the automatic garage door opener. Something to with the devil being present in radio waves and other things he clearly didn’t understand. A lack of ‘edukashun’ will do that to you. Don’t trust what you cannot understand.

Current Poobah Hales’ entry onto the scene was similarly earth-shattering. He almost immediately took the reins and while he fumbled his way through his first year of meetings as he boned up on doctrine and appearing to be a believable ‘leader’, his mind was always on the money. He immediately canned many of Symington’s dictums and started a global business empire that would have had his two predecessors turning in their graves, one with horror and the other with mild appreciation. He had come from a family that loved the whiff of power and also the whiff of money. His father, although a relatively humble man from outward appearances, could never get his love of knowing about other people’s business under control. His brother Brooce loved it all! A blowhard with a fat wallet in the 1960’s. Despite both being cast into the wilderness for their sins, they both did a Lazarus, the former making his way into the recently vacated seat of Symington as Grand Poobah. The ultimate power base of the Plymouth/Exclusive Brethren was in Australia for the first time in 80 years. The Boy’s Club was back in business!

With every transition of ‘Boss’ there followed the thud of the executioner’s axe as it fell on any neck that was sticking up at the time. It’s a bloodthirsty world in this Boy’s Club. Hales Junior has surrounded himself with businessmen with lots of money and with his own trusted family elected into key positions of power around him; this should pretty well guarantee a succession through several generations of Hales for the foreseeable future. While no Brethren closet has more skeletons than those of the Hales, to mention them will ensure the ultimate sacrifice for any second-tier wannabe. Eternity in the ‘wilderness’ sans your family. That’s how they play it. Ask a slightly skewed question? Query any of their decisions? Put your head between your knees and kiss your behind goodbye.

Welcome to the Boy’s Club. Where religion takes a back seat to the front row posturing and the schemes for making money. Where breaking up families comes with the territory. Where crushing people’s spirits is mandatory. They love broken people. They say so. Just as long as it isn’t them.

Welcome to the Boy’s Club. Leave your hat and coat at the door. If you don’t have a mobile phone or a laptop- the Man of God will sell you one! This club has its perks! Now how much did you say you were worth again……?

'The Fairfield Kid'

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Joined: Sun May 12, 2013 3:22 pm

Re: Welcome to the Boy’s Club!

Post by fisherman » Mon Apr 29, 2019 2:49 pm

:roll: Well documented...I was there and saw it all.I can verify this is the way it was and probably still is.They only lacked one little insignificant detail-they were NOT following Jesus ..you CANNOT serve both God and mammon...as for the resurrected ‘commercial system’ that we all claimed a ‘judgement of’ I cannot say it better than to quotes other fisherman in Acts 8:20 ‘ take your money and go to hell’ ..just so?

Where it will all end,nobody knows ,a lot of people have already been hurt and probably a lot more will before this travesty finaly comes to an end either with a bang or a whimper .But the parable of the ‘great house built upon the sand comes to mind. So does the nursery rhyme’Humpty Dumpty sat an a wall,Humpty Dumpty had a great fall’. Haman did to,and is immortalized in ‘Hamans gallows’ The epic poem ‘Ozymandious ‘ provides bleak testimony to the fate of ‘these great men’.History is littered with examples,why do we not learn from history?( A couple of eye opening books are ‘When Men become Gods’ and ‘Secret lives of the Saints’) not EB but a another cult,so close to us its uncanny and will raise the hair on your neck) .Nobody can say they weren’t warned.

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Joined: Fri Feb 22, 2013 8:16 pm

Re: Welcome to the Boy’s Club!

Post by twotimothytwo » Mon Apr 29, 2019 10:29 pm

I grew up in the Symington era, I know how devastating it was to be robbed of education and a decent career, but to be fair he had his principles and he stuck to them.

The current incumbent changes the rules to suit. PBCC women now look like cheap whores when shopping, instead of vagrants. Video screens are everywhere......church, workplace, school. Eating and drinking with 'worldlies' is OK in a business environment, charitable donations are seen to be encouraged, elections are meddled with, hotel stays are fine when on business in places there are no PBCC meetings.......like China..... Mobiles and laptops are de rigueur.........

The pig farmer may have been a crook, but I have no evidence that he bribed people to keep quiet about the abuse of children, advised chemical castration for gay men, nor do I think as many PBCC members went to prison under his watch as do now.

I have nothing but admiration for the way JHS sent the Hales back to Sydney that time they turned up for Winnipeg meetings under their own steam.

In terms of sheer wickedness, their is no comparison between two corrupt regimes.

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