This is in response to Allison Mack Post Reveals Influence Raniere Had Over Her.
Whatever Allison Mack wrote while she was in Keith Raniere’s thralldom had to be designed to please, support and flatter his egomaniacal identity and its demands.
Once she started having sex with him, she was in for Raniere’s worst kind of “therapies.”
But Allison wanted to get close to him. She wanted more status within the group and knew that the women with the most so-called advantages were the ones who were closest to the throne. So Mack wrote her trite and gushy new-age styled testimonials with an aim to impress him, and she also dipped them into her personal supply of mawkish Hallmack glitter.
Mack was delivering, as expected, like an enthusiastic parrot. She probably still has no idea how easy it was for Keith to use her, but cult manipulators see neediness as a calling card.
Her dippity-headed sentimentality, as expressed in her important little blogs, is syrup on top of shit.
She went step by step down the culty slippery slope, allowing Raniere’s sexual obsessions and his really quite transparent lies to become her truth, her career, her entire environment. Here at last, is where Allison Mack had found meaning in life. She swallowed the crooked lovebomb hook. This epiphany, this “euphony” came her way from a brilliant man and here’s a brilliant quote from his howliness, the unmagical perv.
“Many will not know of my existence; some already don’t.”
Well for crying out loud, what a revelation. Give me a moment to let it to subside. It could be the hilarious ramblings of a self-aggrandized blathering dunce, except for all of the harm done and still being done, by Raniere and company.
A quote from the cult’s stinking publicity armory:
“Allison is currently working on the development of a unique and poignant organization. Stay tuned for more details….”
Was this putting lipstick on the monstrous batch of pigs who became DOS? Yes it was, but hey, let’s call it unique and poignant.
Well, Allison and company, here’s to pain and here’s to the smell of burning flesh. Here’s to voluntary enslavement, and here’s to you frigging abusive morons getting some just desserts. Here’s to not thinking a whole lot of things over and ignoring the red flags.
If only Allison Mack had taken off her blinders about who Raniere is and who he isn’t.
But she was a grown woman when she decided that she wanted to be wanted by him. Here she is in all of her glory giving her clarion call.
” More often than not I am spinning in my head consumed with thoughts about what others are thinking of me….”
She is describing a state of mind symptomatic to several personality disorders. A mind full of anxious uneasiness, a sense of feeling “consumed” by one’s own thoughts, a histrionic need for approval or attention, an unrealistic and heightened sense of needing to prevail in all personal interactions but never feeling any satisfaction, for the compulsions keep arising. Either she arrived at Nxivm ripe for the picking or she was slowly inculcated, but Keith saw that he could run her like a yo-yo.
Allison had a career recruiting for a conman. She traveled a lot and one hears that she got to eat more that way, too. She liked the spotlight and the societizing role gave her panache, acting as the ladyship of eminence.
She was like Old Faithful about it all. But it was so much more than that. She was worshiping and desiring a smelly, hairy couch potato who liked to use gatherings such as evening volleyball as his arena to pick up fresh sexual prey. She was fully aware that her duties entailed getting Raniere’s sexual habits fulfilled.
One wonders who would ever want to go to bed with such a pretentious royal highass chucklehead as Keith Raniere.
But look no further.
Allison Mack wanted him, and she wanted him bad. She thought his whole shtick was not only spiritual but spiritually glamorous. She wanted him so badly that her superheroine name could be Blunderwoman. She had to be the soloist in Fatso’s chorus. She held women down to be branded, pretending it wasn’t at Raniere’s command. She had slaves. She was even happy to sit around on the floor at Stumpo’s feet and take turns slurping his schlong with what she called her sister wives.
All in the name of women empowering women.
Their Godhead. First and foremost, a pedophile. His euphemisms about how spiritually cool it was for His Specialness to be humping adolescents were accepted as an example of how he was always so generous. Benevolent. He gave out 20 year emotional “coupons” for avatar babies to keep the older slaves dreaming.
The Blowhard. A man who pretended not to need sleep but who skulked off and slept all day so he could operate his semi-impotency all night. A man who barked and pawed at women and grunted like a hog when they opened the fridge door, a man whose word was no better than his pecker, which still had to be sucked off at “staff” meetings even at half-mast, a man who hid in a closet when the lawmen finally came to confront him.
A coward who was all fuckered out.
Allison was never a robot or an automaton. Every moment, during all of this involvement of hers, she could have woken up and made a decision to look at it all, privately and realistically, and at the very least, to leave it in the rear-view mirror. Maybe she just wasn’t ever capable. Instead she waited until making a plea deal to offer any shred of awareness about the stark obviousness of how slaves and branding weren’t working out for her, but maybe only because she got caught.
Who can be sure how sincere that plea speech was?
Strike one? She is an actor.
Strike two? Her plea speech was somewhat a dirge of mournfulness rather than one of comprehension and repentance.
Strike three? Testimony about her actions and behavior from witnesses during Raniere’s trial was loaded against her by their truthfulness.
Judge Garaufis has heard it all, including the prosecutors’ recommendations.
If she is really ready to free herself from years of destructive choices? Perhaps it will show when Allison Mack receives her sentence. Has she sought out professional help to assist her in freeing her mind of Raniere’s conditioning, to divorce herself from the group’s lifestyle, its criminal activities and Raniere’s sexual dictatorship?
If she or anyone is still into Raniere hardcore, their choices and actions aren’t rational. It’s reasonable to fanatics to justify themselves as part of an entity/identity that is above the law; their infrastructure is seen as a law unto itself.
Raniere had his own governing body of eager representatives, supplicants, sexual idiots and litigation freaks. He used them to endanger themselves and others and to do harm.
Why would the hardcore devotees change their tune now? Who would trust them? They just need time to rearrange positions and strategies. Raniere can become a martyr plus Santa Claus figure, and there will be a certain someone running things while Clare is “away.”
I think Clare has pre-arranged all of that and has temporarily handed the reins to a financially very well-placed Mexican party of interest. Maybe Clare was going to give that person a side order of Nancy Salzman to help the cause, via collect calls from prison.
But Nancy has been pissy, the word is out and Clare has pragmatic attorneys and accountants who likely changed her mind about Nancy’s usefulness. It might have disintegrated.
Raniere-wise, Clare Bronfman might think of Lauren and/or her mother as SPs now. It is doubtful that Clare thinks of Allison much at all, like the way devout Scientologist John Travolta has been said to think of his massage boys. Allison used to be convenient, but she was a zilch. Now she’s an inconvenient zilch.
MK10ART — Allison Mack, “The noise in my head is so loud that I can’t hear anything other than the feedback bouncing off the inside of my skull. He taught me to close my eyes, tame my thoughts and really listen…”
See more of MK10ART’s splendid work