I just read this article (part 2 here).
I will now deliberately break the forum rules when I say, "That #$%&ing scares the #$%& out of me."
Apologies for the vulgar vocabulary, but there really aren't any other words that fit. It's especially creepy when I think of what may have happened to me if I had been born later.
I'm too old to be "sent" to one of these places now (I'm 23, so it would be kidnapping, and you can bet that I would be smashing noses and breaking kneecaps before they got me anywhere near an airplane), but I have some experience with this sort of thing.
Back in '95 or '96 I was living in Memphis with my father and his second wife. She had three daughters, one of which was in her early 20s, while the other two were 14 or so. All four of them were man-haters to the core. To this day I don't know what he saw in her. In any case, they all hated me from the go, simply because I inherited a nice big chunk of the family stubborness and didn't take crap from anybody--and I suppose the natural "rebellious teen" phase I may have been going through may have helped.
Anyway, so they couldn't get along with me, and I was very vocal about all the crap they pulled. Dad didn't really listen, since I was bad-mouthing his new wife and her kids, who all denied everything I said. I suppose it wasn't that hard of a choice, with it being my one voice against four.
Then the younger girls decided I had been molesting them. You can probably guess where that went. Dad had to have a "talk" with me, and when I denied having done with me he started in with the "Son, why are you lieing to me?" spiel.
Long story short, I was carted off to Vanderbilt, which I think was some university nearby but I've blocked out most of the details. I was settled into a dorm/hospital looking wing with a bunch of other "misfit" youths. They had the whole deal going on: I shared a room with another troublemaker (under the watchful eyes of security cameras) in a hall full of such rooms, bisected by the news/discussion room and these big hospital-sized double doors that only opened when another poor sod was admitted.
We got a little "free" time in our rooms in the evening (even though there was nothing to do except read whatever they "thoughtfully provided" us), but the rest of the day (other than meals) was taken up with second-rate guilt-trip crap. They'd make us stand up and "discuss" (by that I mean say how bad we were) the "transgressions" (what we supposedly did that was so bad) and discuss them. Then they'd send us individually to "councillors" who would "help" us accept responsibility for our actions. It wasn't nearly as bad as the unholy crap going on in Jamaica, but still.
After 3 or 4 months the psycho hose beast's little zergs finally slipped up and admitted that I hadn't done anything, so they "allowed" me to leave (oh wait, I could have left earlier, as soon as I had "admitted" that what I "did" was wrong and accepted "councilling").
Not a day goes by that I'm not thankful that I'm as strong-willed as I am. Death would be preferable to having my mind #$%&ed with.
- WL
EDIT: Related story here. I hope these kids did some damage to the "employees."
EDIT 2: Company website.
EDIT 3: Here's the "Enrollment Agreement" for Tranquility Bay. I was wrong, being shot would be too merciful for these things. They need every bone in their bodies broken, starting with the fingers.
EDIT 4: Last edit, since this #$%& is making me nauseous. Here is a website done by "survivors" of this stuff. Jesus #$%&ing Christ, where's Goldfish when you need him? This #$%& can't be legal...
I will now deliberately break the forum rules when I say, "That #$%&ing scares the #$%& out of me."
Apologies for the vulgar vocabulary, but there really aren't any other words that fit. It's especially creepy when I think of what may have happened to me if I had been born later.
I'm too old to be "sent" to one of these places now (I'm 23, so it would be kidnapping, and you can bet that I would be smashing noses and breaking kneecaps before they got me anywhere near an airplane), but I have some experience with this sort of thing.
Back in '95 or '96 I was living in Memphis with my father and his second wife. She had three daughters, one of which was in her early 20s, while the other two were 14 or so. All four of them were man-haters to the core. To this day I don't know what he saw in her. In any case, they all hated me from the go, simply because I inherited a nice big chunk of the family stubborness and didn't take crap from anybody--and I suppose the natural "rebellious teen" phase I may have been going through may have helped.
Anyway, so they couldn't get along with me, and I was very vocal about all the crap they pulled. Dad didn't really listen, since I was bad-mouthing his new wife and her kids, who all denied everything I said. I suppose it wasn't that hard of a choice, with it being my one voice against four.
Then the younger girls decided I had been molesting them. You can probably guess where that went. Dad had to have a "talk" with me, and when I denied having done with me he started in with the "Son, why are you lieing to me?" spiel.
Long story short, I was carted off to Vanderbilt, which I think was some university nearby but I've blocked out most of the details. I was settled into a dorm/hospital looking wing with a bunch of other "misfit" youths. They had the whole deal going on: I shared a room with another troublemaker (under the watchful eyes of security cameras) in a hall full of such rooms, bisected by the news/discussion room and these big hospital-sized double doors that only opened when another poor sod was admitted.
We got a little "free" time in our rooms in the evening (even though there was nothing to do except read whatever they "thoughtfully provided" us), but the rest of the day (other than meals) was taken up with second-rate guilt-trip crap. They'd make us stand up and "discuss" (by that I mean say how bad we were) the "transgressions" (what we supposedly did that was so bad) and discuss them. Then they'd send us individually to "councillors" who would "help" us accept responsibility for our actions. It wasn't nearly as bad as the unholy crap going on in Jamaica, but still.
After 3 or 4 months the psycho hose beast's little zergs finally slipped up and admitted that I hadn't done anything, so they "allowed" me to leave (oh wait, I could have left earlier, as soon as I had "admitted" that what I "did" was wrong and accepted "councilling").
Not a day goes by that I'm not thankful that I'm as strong-willed as I am. Death would be preferable to having my mind #$%&ed with.
- WL
EDIT: Related story here. I hope these kids did some damage to the "employees."
EDIT 2: Company website.
EDIT 3: Here's the "Enrollment Agreement" for Tranquility Bay. I was wrong, being shot would be too merciful for these things. They need every bone in their bodies broken, starting with the fingers.
EDIT 4: Last edit, since this #$%& is making me nauseous. Here is a website done by "survivors" of this stuff. Jesus #$%&ing Christ, where's Goldfish when you need him? This #$%& can't be legal...