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Same stuff, different time. It was the rage in our office in San Francisco Bay Area in 1971. Seemed like the only people that fell for was the low producers in our Xerox sales office.

EST

In 1971, the Erhard Seminars Training--better known as EST--exploded out of San Francisco to become a worldwide phenomenon. The program promised personal empowerment, but reports claimed that moderators castigated and berated participants for their beliefs. After knocking them down, the moderators raised their spirits through guided meditations and repetitive readings. At the end of the two- or three-day seminar, participants either "got it" and experienced a transcendent life change or walked away dazed and confused.

The Red Chinese and NK interrogators of the Korean War would be proud - great use of ‘brain washing techniques’! What’s even better the victims paid for the honor of having their brain washed, cleaned dried & pressed!

I once met an EST trainee at a party, and it was right I saw the movie “SemiTough”. I could barely maintain my social decorum.

As an aside, I challenge anybody to ring the doorbell of a home sporting one of those "hate has no home here" signs and tell them you are a volunteer for the 2024 Trump campaign. You will quickly find out not only that hate actually DOES live there but that hate is being nurtured and grown in that particular household. So good luck with that experiment!

I don't often go in search of a fight, but the last time I answered my door for a stranger, it was a young GenZer with a clipboard. She was full of vigor and was down with the cause/some leftish nonsense in NJ that I've forgotten. She asked if I'd sign her petition, and I politely refused (I don't give my name, rank, and serial number to strangers). All was pleasesnt.

Then she started talking about fracking like it was demonic activity. I'd pretty much had it with the virtue-signaling, so I replied "Oh, I LOVE fracking. It's wonderful." He smile and demeanor turned sour. "...what?" I responded "Sure! We can establish energy independence and we never have to send our kids overseas to die and shed blood for big oil."

She now looked like a succubus, put her clipboard and pen away, and walked away struggling to mutter "thank you." I yelled "have a GREAT day!"

Mrs DoodleBob was worried that our home would get firebombed at some point in the next week, so I don't answer the door for strangers anymore. PS we were never vandalized nor even egged on Mischief Night...I got off easy.

As an aside, in Mad Magazine in the 70s there was a great cartoon of a smiling woman carrying a picket sign with words stack atop each other

MAKE
LOVE
NOT
WAR

In the next panel, a guy walks up to the woman and says "Great idea, baby...let's make love!" The next panel shows the woman bashing the guy on his head with her sign. The final panel shows the guy on the ground, and the woman now furious holding her sign with the middle section ripped out, displaying only

MAKE
WAR

That simple cartoon in a mildly subversive magazine from yesteryear sums it up pretty nicely.