SCOTT BEALE
Beck Don’t believe everything that you breathe.
“Hi! Could we tempt you with some delicious bars?” It’s 10:00 a.m.
on Sunday morning, and my sister and I are at the Minneapolis Church of
Scientology. We’ve been standing at the entryway for two minutes now,
completely paralyzed. Our secret plan is definitely not working—these people cannot be bought by conventional means.
“Okay. If you don’t want any bars, can I ask you a few questions?”
The middle-aged guy standing in front of me is named Dan. He’s wearing
a tight yellow polo shirt. He’s the resident Scientologist on staff,
and he doesn’t like sugar.
“Of course,” Dan says enthusiastically. He motions us inside. In our
outstretched arms, we’re both still holding baking tins full of
chocolate-coconut bars made by my sister’s neighbor Barb: Barb’s
bars!
“Yeah, coooool,” I say, twisting the tin like a steering wheel,
preparing to unload my spiel: “So, hey, have you heard Beck’s new
album? I was going to stand outside and play it, but I couldn’t find a
boom box. I brought these bars instead.”
“Oh, wait… are you here for the Sunday service?” Dan asks.
“Well, no, I just wanted to ask you some questions about Beck for a
story I’m writing. Because, you know, Beck is a Scientologist and I
think people are curious about that.”
Dan frowns and tilts his head. “Who’s Beck?”
Beck Hansen is, of course, a big-shot music guy on the level of,
say, Michael Stipe. He’s also someone I wouldn’t normally give a shit
about in 2008, except for the fact that there are two fantastic songs on his new Danger Mouse–produced album, Modern
Guilt. One of them, “Gamma Ray,” is a surfy party jam with
aggressive Beck mumbleage; the other, “Chemtrails,” is a big, shoegazey
drum freak-out that tackles hegemonic mind control. Neither song is
particularly groundbreaking, but they’re easily the best things dude
has done in years.
Speaking of chemtrails and mind control, shouldn’t we be worried
about Beck’s religious affiliations? Some gossip-mongers suspect the
presence of subliminal messages in Beck’s music. A pair of suicidally
delusional NYC artists thought the pop star was stalking them. There’s
even a dedicated website, A Guide to Beck and Scientology for
Journalists and Fans, which reads like some kind of Freemason
conspiracy screed.
Naturally, I didn’t have such luck finding any people who felt so
strongly about Beck’s beliefs in real life.
“I don’t mind watching a Travolta movie or listening to a
Scientologist musician” says Andreas Heldal-Lund, the anti-Scientology
activist behind xenu.net. “But I do try
to stay away from celebrities who use their position to promote the
cult.”
Huh? I spoke to Heldal-Lund specifically because I wanted a
fire-and-brimstone speech about Beck and thetans and brainwashing.
Instead, he’s totally sensible.
“I imagine all artists are influenced by many things they
experience, including a cult… if they visit one,” Heldal-Lund
continues.
Heldal-Lund is probably right. But it’s hard to speculate how deeply
Scientology influences Beck, especially given how tight-lipped he’s
been about it. The little he has admitted is that he’s been around it
his whole life—his parents have been Scientologists for over 30
years. And his mother, Bibbe, is an Operating Thetan (Level Five!).
At the very least, then, we can’t blame Scientology for “changing”
Beck. For all we know, Scientology has always been as crucial to Beck’s
identity and music as, say, his parents’ divorce. And, really, who’s to
say which of those influences produces hits like “Devil’s Haircut” and
“Where It’s At”?
“Can I just look at the test and not take it?” I ask Dan.
“Sure, you can examine this,” says Dan, handing my sister and me
copies of the mail-in Oxford Capacity Analysis test. “Just fill it out
whenever you’d like.”
I scan through the questions as we leave, taking a quick bite of one
of the chocolate-coconut bars (delicious!). “Do you have a tendency
to tidy up a disorder of somebody else’s household?” Sadly, yes.
“In subjects about which you are not expert, are your own ideas of
sufficient importance as to tell others?” Most definitely. “Do
you often make tactless….”
Eh, fuck it—this test is boring. Besides, these bars are
messy, and I have to wipe my hands with something. 
fiiig nuts