Silvia: Patrick does not use the Internet. He gave me this letter addressed to Prem Rawat, also known by about "200 hundred other names" and asked me to post it here.
Open Letter to Guru Maharaj Ji on the 30th Anniversary of A Pie in Your Face
Thirty year ago, August 15, 1973 you came to Detroit on a public relations tour to attract followers (customers). It was in Detroit where I threw a pie in your face. I think I missed a spot. Would you please come back, oh self-proclaimed "Master of the Universe"?
A lazy reporter, merely reprinting your P.R. department news release said in the newspaper that you were the reincarnation of Jesus, Buddha, Krishna- that "God had returned to the planet!"
Pardon my impatience but, after reading this news I wrote a list of demands asking for among other things: "12 fingers, money to grow on trees, no more mosquitoes," etc. It has been 30 years, "God", and still you have ignored our pleas in Detroit. Maybe you are in the wrong racket and should have been a sword swallower, or a snake charmer like your fakir brothers in India.
You told your followers after I threw the pie in your face at the Detroit City Council that in my "next life" I would be a micro-organism. Is this supposed to scare me?
Brother, I had been through heaven and back while you were learning how to play with your "tweenkee".
There is no reincarnation, because there is no individual soul. This you would know if you ever step off the planet, you, couch potato of the universe!
I admit you have a good gig. You got rich milking the intellectual tourists of America. But I hear you have become a drunk and that your brother has become the "true perfect master" in Canada. Boy, the universe has shrunk in a very short time.
Listen, carnival boy, you hurt a lot of people financially and in many ways. Plus, you broke a lot of hearts. You even sent two of your goons, Mahatma Fakiranand and premie Fletcher to kill me. They busted my head and I almost died from the hole in my skull. I am a chipped diamond, but my head is a jewel on the hand of the Earth Goddess while you are an impostor and a fat drunk.
I will outlive you, though I am older and that I was damaged; I will note fondly the day that you die and will applaud using one hand, of course.