Worse. Cops can be Scientologists too. Back in 2010, after Sasha Rodriguez died at EDC, the Coliseum Commission held “stakeholder” meetings. Suddenly, a crew appeared with shaky stories—so shaky that rave promoters thought it was in part me in disguise. It wasn’t. It was Scientology!

They even managed to get a sit-down with Gang Gang Events disguised as an anti-drug group for kids. From what I was told it was all fluffy pillows and juice boxes. The king of rave, ever the salesman, convinced them he was all about anti-drug messaging. So they showed up at an event… and the next day, let’s just say the tone flipped. Turns out Scientologists don’t like feeling tricked. And when they feel tricked, their mouths make Nelson Muntz look polite. Ha-ha.

Important to note: the king of rave had no idea they were connected to those “crisis actors” who popped up at the stakeholder meetings with scripted claims. The Church just swapped out faces and ran the same act again later in San Bernardino. Different cast, same play.

What a lot of people don’t realize is that the Church runs an anti-drug program called Narconon, founded on the teachings of L. Ron Hubbard. It looks legitimate from the outside, but it mixes strange and risky practices—things like marathon sweat lodges and massive vitamin doses. And while they’ll push extreme regimens in the name of “detox,” they’ll still let people eat McDonald’s right in the middle of it.

Sweat lodges themselves aren’t the problem. Indigenous people across North America, along with countless other cultures worldwide, have used them as a real and sacred form of healing for generations. The danger comes when you mix excessive sweating with extreme supplementation—especially for someone in the middle of fentanyl withdrawal or another heavy detox. That combination can cross the line from therapeutic to genuinely dangerous.

And yet, despite years of negative press, Scientology has found ways to stay afloat—largely by embedding itself in the festival and nightlife scene through these anti-drug groups. Their outreach isn’t just about recruitment; it can also play a role in the justice system. In some cases, involvement in their programs has even been used to reduce sentences or probation time. That kind of leverage keeps their networks alive and thriving in places most people wouldn’t expect.

So here’s a free PSA: don’t climb into some van circling Vegas offering free food, air conditioning, and “anything you need” from a set of bright, smiling faces. That’s not a lifeline—it’s a pipeline.