Strip Club Reporter Gabrielle Calise Only a Mouthpiece for Tampa Bay Times Institutional Bigotry
Hello! And welcome to the Serious Writers Boot Camp!
During this intense weekend, you’ll be trained within an inch of your life to Seriously Write about Serious Subjects—like war, politics and other important issues of the day.
Yes, you raised your hand, Ms—uh Gabrielle Calise? I see that you write for the Tampa Bay Times. What is your question?
Yes, certainly, religion is a serious subject.
I’m afraid, Ms. Calise, these fall far below the bar. No, not THAT bar.
Oh? You were submitting those articles as proof that you’re already a Serious Writer? You specialize in strip clubs? I see.
Well, if you really believe that’s a serious subject, then what are you doing here?
Oh, you’re just here because of the beach? Well, that would certainly explain the bathing suit, sunglasses—and is that a margarita you’re holding? Ah.
No, I won’t give you directions to the beach. I thought you were here because you’ve been assigned to write a story involving Scientology, a global religion with millions of parishioners, with its spiritual headquarters right here in Tampa Bay, where they are a prominent force for good in the community. So you’re writing about a very important, serious subject, indeed, an assignment that I myself would have been honored to—no, I won’t give you directions to the nearest bar.
You see, Ms. Calise, we here at the Serious Writers Boot Camp are dedicated to creating serious journalists who care about the issues and the people affected by them, writers who want to make a positive difference, who—
What? I’m blocking the sun? No, I don’t care whether you tan evenly. And I’ll thank you to watch where you’re squirting that Coppertone. That’s not funny, Ms. Calise.
What’s this you’re handing me? Samples of your articles on religion? “Catholic Cuties Crank Up Confession,” “What Imams Do for Fun” and “Heaven: Is It Really Worth the Hype?”
I’m afraid, Ms. Calise, these fall far below the bar. No, not THAT bar—I’m talking about our standards for Serious Writing. May I ask… Did you even register? Did you fill out the required IQ test?
Yes, I know you have an IQ. That’s not the purpose of the test.
Look, Ms. Calise, I don’t believe we are a good fit for your um… special needs, and I don’t want to waste your money. No, I don’t want to meet the strip club king of Tampa. No, I didn’t know that the Weeki Wachee Springs State Park has real mermaids and mermen.
I’m afraid I must ask you to leave, Gabby. Your very presence is lowering the collective intelligence of all of us here.
Do you even know what those words mean—“obtuse,” “canards,” “fabrications”?
But before you pack up your beach gear, I do have a concern: You’ve been given a very important assignment—one that deals with the hearts and minds of members of a beloved faith community. How do you propose to write your article? Will you do research? Get authoritative opinions from scholars who have studied the religion? Do a survey of its social betterment programs here in Florida and around the world?
Oh, you’re not really writing it. It was already written ages ago. Well, bully for you—you’re just providing the byline? I see.
So why you? Well, I don’t know either.
Why don’t you ask your editors why they wanted your name on the article.
Oh, and what did they say?
They needed someone obtuse enough to permit her name to be associated with a string of vicious canards and outright fabrications about a respected and cherished religious community, and you were the perfect person to do it?
Well, I’m not so sure I would call it a “great honor,” Ms. Calise. Do you even know what those words mean—“obtuse,” “canards,” “fabrications”?
No, I’m afraid they’re not Florida seafood options.
Look. Just what are you planning to do to contribute to this article besides lending it your byline? I see: throw back a bucket of booze with your friend, the pet taxidermist, and go off looking for roadkill?
Well, whatever floats your boat, Ms. Calise.
Just don’t float it here, and for the last time, I will NOT give you directions to the beach. That’s right—the beach is where all the water is. First sand, then water. You can’t miss it.
Martin Landon is happy to say that at present he is not doing anything he doesn’t love. Using Scientology, he helps people daily, both one-on-one through life coaching, and globally, through his webinars. He has also authored books, movies, plays, TV shows, and comic strips and currently writes for STAND, which gives him great joy.
