Let’s put it out there. The rumor is that the grand and glorious Swami Chetanananda AKA J. Michael Shoemaker has herpes and buys prostitutes.
A commenter with the clever name: Herpe Krishna, Herpe Rama writes:
So how many of you got the shaktiput that keeps on giving from Swami Chetanananda?
I wonder how many female cancers, female problems, and infertility issues evolved from this man’s disrespect for himself and subsequent “game”?
Not like anyone expects God to give them the clap. Who knew he was bringing in so much “skag” from the “outside”?
Doesn’t seem so special being a chosen one when you realize he was paying for something worse than what you gave him for free.
Do you think he’s worn a condom since they stopped making them out of buckskin?
A smidgen of gonna-ree ree here, a bit of Chlamydia there was assuredly unchecked for years until it was a massive health issue for some of these women.
Discreet little vials of Mercurius and Hepar Sulph prescribed by the good homeopath weren’t going to cut it.
If he has herpes, that’s 100% guaranteed to be NOT the only thing he’s passed around in his decades of being a most indiscriminate poon hound.
Prove us wrong. We want the test from an actual doctor, not one you own.
BDSM and drug things, many were unaware of. But the herpes allegation? No pun intended, but that has been circulating through the ashram since long before 1998.
In reply, You Play, You Lose added this about Chetanananda’s penchant for prostitutes.
By You Play, You Lose
Why did so many women, including myself, leave?
Not because “we fell madly in love with him and he moved on to someone new”.
Or “we didn’t want to work,” as was mockingly said behind our backs.
For me, it was when I didn’t want to be forced to take drugs, be choked and whipped.
It was when I was forced to have sex with people I didn’t know, or forced to have sex with one of his zombies in the ashram.
When I got tired of his lies, mind-games, and gaslighting.
When I realized everything he’s ever told me is a lie.
Like when he told me how deeply he loves me.
How he “loves me more than anyone else in the world.”
Or we’re “building our lives together”.
And when I realized he told me, and her, and her and her.
And it’s still not enough for him.
He has to buy hookers, take more drugs, and get more women.
It just never stops.
And you can’t bear to look at yourself a minute longer or participate in and contribute to this man’s reckless behavior and endangerment of every young woman that walks through the door.
Or his defilement of every part of you.
Or you can no longer have a hand in the lie that was that entire ashram performance.
Unlike those who knew, and stayed, and fed like fat parasites. You know who you are. There are so many of you.
For all these reasons, I left, and so many more.
Do you want to sue us for telling the truth?
How will that work out when all your ex- “girlfriends” are subpoenaed?
Johnny Depp may have convinced everyone that Amber was crazy, but how will you convince a jury that 20, 30, or 50 of us are crazy?
That a decades-long trail of accusations are lies?
Also, I have photos.
There ain’t no demon in my mirror. Only truth. Can you say the same?
Do you want to attack us psychically and spiritually? Come at me. I’ve already been to hell with you. Yet I’m still here. What else ya got?
Coercive control does not equal consent.
Nothing of true everlasting beauty can be created in the wasteland of dead souls you’ve ravaged or with the toxic snakes you share your life with, no matter what you tell yourself about non-duality.
Like Muktananda said, ‘the nature of the universe is non-dual, but I’d rather not live in Shiva’s asshole.’
Especially when it’s my asshole with a butt plug rammed up it.