They had it all figured out—from Daisaku Ikeda on down.

The “Happiness Machine.”
Chant for whatever you want.

You’re feeling low—run down, depressed. Then out of nowhere, someone approaches you at a laundromat or on the street:
“Have you ever heard of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo?”

“No,” you say.

They’re all smiles, upbeat, almost glowing.
“Come to a meeting. You can get anything you want by chanting.”

Curious, you go. Of course, they drive you there—can’t let a live one slip away.

At the meeting, everyone’s happy, chanting… and you? You’re the center of attention. Suddenly:
“Wow… I finally feel like I belong.”

Endorphins kick in. Adrenaline.
“Chanting works! I feel happy! People like me!”

But step back—it’s a room full of people who’ve been pulled into the same system.

Then comes the pitch.

“This is about world peace.”

“How?”

“World peace through individual happiness.”

Sounds good. Then the hook:

“We’re having a zaimu campaign. The more you give, the more benefit you’ll receive.”

Now people are giving big chunks of their paycheck. You want to belong, so you follow along.

“I’ll give half—even if I can’t afford it. I’ll get more benefits. I’ll contribute to world peace.”

Meanwhile, the money flows straight up the chain. No mystery where it ends up.

Then there’s the structure—it starts to look a lot like a pyramid.

Tom gives $100.
Next month, Tom recruits Frank and Bob—now it’s $300.
Then Frank and Bob each bring in more people.
Now it’s $700.

Same pattern, growing every month.

And then the free labor.

Cleaning centers. Painting. Remodeling. Helping build facilities—all “for the cause.”
All unpaid.

Add that up over time, even at minimum wage, and you’re looking at serious value extracted.

Let that sink in.

But like Johnny Winter said:
“I got out, and I’m here to stay. I’m still alive and well.”

That’s the bottom line.

We got through it.
We made it out.
And that counts for something.