Mountain View has a church of Scientology downtown. Outside the door generally stand some agreeable people who proffer me a stress-test or some literature. I’ve never gone in the building, but am usually civil.
One time I actually did hear the guy out and he told me the benefits of Scientology. I said I had no drinking problems, a good attitude, was in good health, enjoyed life, and did yoga. Being someone who believes his life is OK generally makes the glittering baubels of this cult fairly unattractive.
He thanked me for listening patiently and I went on my business. Since that time, when asked to her the spiel, I say “No thank you” or “The Buddha teaches there is no me to take this test”. I admit occasionally I think about saying “Islam’s fire of purification will swallow you like a lion!”, but I generally keep that in check.
In general I regard them as annoyances: like Creationists or Jehova’s Witnesses.
This weekend I tested out a new one:
“If Tom Cruise is what you get from this stuff count me out!”
Although every time I dismiss Scientology I grow very uncomfortable. Christianity was regarded the same way by the ruling class of its day.