It continues to be amazing how someone like Reese Jones can continue to have his name "blacklisted" from Wikipedia.
A notable Silicon Valley venture capitalist, who actually seems to DONATE MONEY to wikipedia, has been able to keep himself out of Wikipedia, except for one mention?
Someone in the actual media should do an experiment, try to get a Reese Jones entry into Wikipedia, and note what happens.
How do you keep yourself out of Wikipedia? How does that work?

lifeboat.com/ex/bios.reese.jones
"He supports public education via the Singularity University, Wikipedia, the Chabot Space Science Center, and UC Berkeley".








----------------
[lifeboat.com]
Reese Jones

Reese Jones has 25 years in innovation, entrepreneurship, and patents. As a venture strategist, he has engaged in a dozen company’s innovation, start up, financing, development, IPO, and acquisitions including Netopia, Farallon, Convergence, C-Core, Mediabolic, SpeakSoft, Roc2Loc; also Venture Partnerships including Accel, August, Telesoft, Current Group LLP, Definitive Partners, and others.

Reese current positions include: Board at SpeakSoft (411 Voice Services); Board at liveBooks (Photographers); Board at Roc2Loc (Sensor Networks); Strategist at Current Group (Smart Grid); Storyteller at Definitive Stories (Media); and Board at Chabot Space & Science Center. His past positions include: Founder, Chairman, CEO at Netopia; Chairman at Mediabolic (CE middleware); Chairman at Convergence.com CABLE; and CEO 10 years at Farallon PhoneNET & Media.

Interested in human/Internet interfaces and evolution, from synthetic biology to biomedical to astrobiology and theoretical biologies, Reese is working on a personal project regarding long-range evolutionary forecasts for life forms on this planet.

While a grad student at UC Berkeley in 1984, he started and ran BMUG, a nonprofit computer group, which became the largest computer user group of its kind. He has long been involved in user-oriented telephone / 2600 / homebrew technology experimentation and public education.

He holds a BA in Biophysics from the University of California, Berkeley, and spent five years toward a Ph.D. in Biophysics, researching biomedical imaging of the brain chemistry defects in schizophrenia. He holds several communications patents related to telephone / computer integration, voice / data / entertainment/ broadband / networking / communications, and smartphone applications.

His patents include Local area network connecting computer products via long telephone lines, System for connecting computers via telephone lines, Distributed subsystem sparing, Telephone controlled entertainment, and Method and system for increasing concurrency during staging and destaging in a log structured array.

Reese is a Lester Fellow in Innovation and Entrepreneurship at the Haas School of Business at the University of California, Berkeley, and is currently active in CITRIS, QB3, BWRC, and other interdisciplinary departments at Berkeley, LBL, and USCF.

He supports public education via the Singularity University, Wikipedia, the Chabot Space Science Center, and UC Berkeley. Read his LinkedIn profile. Read his blog and his Twitter feed.
------------------

corboy Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> "Once I got to the conference, though, it was
> clear that the only way to witness the Group OM
> was to participate. "
>
> [gawker.com]
> t-1445204953
>
> This is Google's cache of
> [gawker.com]
> t-1445204953. It is a snapshot of the page as it
> appeared on Jun 19, 2014 06:56:12 GMT. The current
> page could have changed in the meantime. Learn
> more
> Tip: To quickly find your search term on this
> page, press Ctrl+F or ?-F (Mac) and use the find
> bar.
>
> -
> What is the secret to unlocking your personal
> potential and creating a more harmonious society?
> A San Francisco company says you can find it
> between every woman's legs. Gawker's Nitasha Tiku
> investigates, step by step.
>
> My Life With the Thrill-Clit Cult
>
> “You can't see Hendrix anymore because he's
> dead, so you gotta go see Nicole stroke pussy!”
>
> It was a summer evening inside San Francisco’s
> Regency Center and Eli Block, tall and toned, was
> trying to round up spectators for what was being
> billed as the largest live demonstration, ever, of
> “a woman in orgasm.” Block used to be an Apple
> Genius Bar troubleshooter.
>
> Now he works for OneTaste, a company devoted to a
> practice called "orgasmic meditation," or OM, as
> an orgasm coach. He wore a navy-blue t-shirt that
> read "Powered by Orgasm."
>
> OneTaste has been operating at the distinctively
> West Coastal junction of the carnal, the
> spiritual, and the theoretical for nine years now,
> expanding from a San Francisco commune to a
> multi-city business. Its work has been validated
> by South by Southwest—the annual marketer’s
> paradise in Austin, Texas, that helped popularize
> Twitter and Foursquare—and TEDx SF, one of the
> idea conference's independently organized confabs.
>
>
> It also appeared in the Tim Ferriss bestseller The
> 4-Hour Body. “The 15-minute orgasm”? That’s
> OneTaste.
>
> This was the first night of OMXperience, a
> three-day August conference meant to "kick off the
> industry of orgasm," with speakers including Naomi
> Wolf, New York Times bestselling author Dr. Sara
> Gottfried, and Robbie Richman, the former "culture
> strategist" at Zappos. Roughly 1,400 people had
> paid between $200 and $400 to attend.
>
> The conference-goers had just wrapped up an "Art
> of Intimacy" workshop, and Block was herding them
> downstairs to the gilded Beaux Arts ballroom.
> Nearly half a century ago, and however many social
> revolutions ago, this was the Avalon Ballroom,
> home of two live Grateful Dead albums—and,
> legend had it, a jam session where Hendrix himself
> had joined the Dead.
>
> Now, onstage was Bryn Freedman, the producer
> behind A&E's "Intervention" and the evening's
> M.C., picking up the Hendrix theme. There must
> have been a memo to give the analogy a hard sell.
> Freedman promised the crowd they were about to
> encounter "truly truly one of the gifted people
> who is changing the planet—plus she is also the
> Jimi Hendrix of stroking, so hang on for that!"
>
> In strode a coquettish and tan Nicole Daedone, the
> 46-year-old self-styled guru behind OneTaste.
> Straight honey-blonde hair fell in a sleek frame
> around her face; a smartly tailored gray dress
> hugged her silhouette, making her look like a
> lankier Ellen Barkin. “BDSM-y,” I pecked out
> on my iPhone, trying to describe the thick,
> metallic straps of her high heels.
>
> In the June, 2011 speech for TEDx SF that has
> since been viewed more than half a million times,
> Daedone lamented what she calls the Western
> woman’s mantra:
>
> “I work too hard, I eat too much, I diet too
> much, I drink too much, I shop too much, I give
> too much. And still there's this sense of hunger I
> can't touch.” In that old YouTube video, Daedone
> wore an ill-fitting black blazer and frumpy purple
> blouse, her hair in brown waves. Now she stood
> transformed, slender, triumphant. Her cheeks were
> supple and glowing. Her lipstick was chocolate-box
> red.
>
> The cure for that untouched female hunger, Daedone
> teaches, is a brief ritual, performed with a
> partner. The woman removes the clothing from her
> lower half, and only from that half. The
> partner—the stroker, typically a man—remains
> fully dressed. The lights stay on. Over the course
> of 15 minutes, timed, the partner rubs the upper
> left quadrant of the woman's clitoris, and she
> surrenders to involuntary sensation.
>
> The desired outcome is therapeutic, rather than
> sexual—not a spikey, sneeze-like commonplace
> climax, but something more sensuous, purportedly
> activating the limbic depths of the brain and
> releasing a flood of oxytocin, stimulating bonding
> between participants.
>
> OneTaste originally presented it as a spiritual
> practice like yoga or meditation, but lately, as
> Daedone's fame has grown, it's taught as a
> technological innovation—a body-hack to
> happiness. At the end of The 4 Hour Body’s
> orgasm chapter, the efficiency impresario Ferriss
> declares: "This should be required education for
> every man on the planet.”
>
> To Daedone, the applications go even further.
> OneTaste's orgasm-industry vision extends to
> certifying businesses as OM-based: a Bikram yoga
> studio, even a coffee shop, sure, but also banks
> and legal offices. “And potentially OM on the
> airplane!” The audience, in its blissful
> optimism, rushed the stage afterward to sign up.
>
> Everyone is interested in doing fun things with
> their bodies. But the impulse to systematize,
> replicate, package, sell, and build an ideology
> around it is uniquely Silicon Valley. Part of what
> drives app makers and investors is the urge to
> bend the world to their desires—turn a thing on
> its side to see if it works better that way. In
> the personal realm, that translates to a libertine
> sense of entitlement and the pursuit of total
> optimization. OM seems ideally designed to meet
> those goals.
>
> Many of OneTaste’s employees and devotees work
> in the startup sector. Reese Jones, Daedone’s
> sometime boyfriend, is also a venture capitalist
> and serial inventor credited with the first
> sound-recording software. During a presentation at
> the conference, Jones would compare the "OM
> container"—which refers both to the
> pillow-and-blanket covered "nest" one is supposed
> to construct and to the time limits and emotional
> boundaries of the practice—to the Internet
> communications protocol TCP/IP.
>
> This past April, during the interactive portion of
> South by Southwest, Daedone delivered a talk
> titled "Female Orgasm: The Regenerative Human
> Technology" to a packed room. She relayed an
> endorsement from foundational futurist Ray
> Kurzweil, whose Singularity University counts
> Reese Jones as a board member.
>
> “The next thing we knew we were invited into all
> of these tech circles and, whoa, man, the testing
> there was rigorous and crazy," she said. "But
> finally we got the blessing of Ray Kurzweil that
> we are officially a technology, and they said it's
> based on scientific knowledge about physiology and
> psychology and it goes far beyond insight or a
> piece of advice.”
>
> “In fact," she said, "I would go even further to
> say orgasm can do for physical connection what the
> internet has done for us in terms of virtual
> connection.”
>
>
> About that connection: In the realm of OM,
> "partner" does not connote a prior relationship.
> It's not unusual, at OneTaste events, to get
> stroked by someone you've only just met. Over the
> course of the conference, nearly every guy who
> asked me to OM—the collegiate startup cofounder,
> the burly acupuncturist, the weaselly 20-something
> from Austin, the dashing cognitive scientist, the
> white-haired yogi—would suggest it within 60
> seconds of our first meeting.
>
> A couple of times, the request arrived before they
> even gave me their names.
>
> In this regard, the Jimi Hendrix reference was
> only the opening act. Whatever virtuosity Daedone
> was preparing to demonstrate on stage, the
> weekend’s main attraction was going to be the
> regularly scheduled Group OM sessions, with 350
> "nests" set up in the Regency's basement. If she
> was Hendrix, half the people in the room wanted to
> be guitarists themselves. The other half of us
> were there to be guitars.
>
> I first heard about OneTaste in March, at a
> breakfast meeting with a venture capitalist who
> had newly moved to New York from San Francisco.
> She hadn't felt compelled to try it herself, but
> she had a friend who worked at OneTaste, who would
> OM if she was nervous before a big meeting. They
> had lingo for the men who'd perfected the craft:
> "Master stroker—that's what it's called!"
>
> Genital stimulation in a professional context
> seemed transgressive, even for hippie-hedonist San
> Francisco. Her friend, Joanna Van Vleck—who is
> now OneTaste's president—met me in June when she
> was in New York. "We don't OM, like, right in the
> office," Van Vleck explained. But she said, "If we
> have employee problems, we're like, let's OM
> together. Yeah, if two people have a discrepancy,
> we say: OM together!"
>
> OneTaste’s headquarters is located in an airy,
> two-story building at 47 Moss Street with polished
> concrete floors and rays of sunlight refracted
> through a garage-door like facade. This is where
> the company hosts therapy sessions and OMing
> classes. But its spiritual center is a nearby
> clay-colored, three-story residence at 1080 Folsom
> Street, down the street from Sightglass Coffee,
> the epitome of retro-futurist craftsmanship and a
> mandatory scene for magazine profiles of Twitter
> cofounder Jack Dorsey, whose mobile payments
> company, Square, is headquartered nearby.
>
> Not all of the 55 people who live at 1080 work for
> OneTaste. Some would-be residents sign up for the
> waiting list in search of a plum location and
> affordable rent. But at 7:30 every weekday, the
> building hosts a group session, closed to the
> general public. Many employees maintain multiple
> "research partners" simultaneously.
>
> "You come in with certain boundaries," OneTaste's
> business development manager, Marcus Ratnathicam,
> told me during the conference. Ratnathicam, a
> half-Swedish, half-Sri Lankan former
> software-company business development manager, has
> been a resident of 1080 for three and a half
> years. "And because it gets so multi-dimensional,
> it starts to crack open," he said. "Friends are
> lovers are friends."
>
> In 2012, OneTaste opened centers in London, Los
> Angeles, Austin, Las Vegas, San Diego, Boulder,
> and Philadelphia, and re-established its New York
> City presence with a residence in Harlem. The
> company’s goal is to open in 20 cities by the
> end of 2014.
>
> Daedone, meanwhile, has been accruing the
> trappings of a daytime personality, building a
> lifestyle brand along the way. Her 2011 book, Slow
> Sex, was put out by the Hachette imprint that
> publishes Gwyneth Paltrow and Gordon Ramsay.
> OneTaste offers sessions ranging from Coaching
> certification ($15,000) to six-month Mastery
> Programs ($7,500) to a one-day Play Class ($195)
> and evening TurnOn events ($10), as well as
> t-shirts, organic lube, and OM warmers for your
> legs in the winter. After the conference, a
> newsletter went out welcoming acolytes to a
> private social network called the OM Hub, a
> formalized version of their once-secret Facebook
> group, accessible with an OM badge ($49/year.)
>
> Van Vleck, who launched a menswear e-commerce
> company that was acquired by the cofounder of
> Bonobos, told me that she had been working as head
> of marketing for OneTaste for months before she
> agreed to try OM. "I was like, uhh, this is so
> gross," she said. "We can sell this online, but
> ugh... I was ultimately scared. It's vulnerable.
> Sometimes I still lay down to OM and I'm like,
> 'What the fuck is this?' If there weren't such
> incredible benefits, I would not lay down and have
> a man stroke my genitals or stroke my clitoris. I
> just wouldn't."
>
> Her smile was infectious and her complexion dewy.
> Every time she talked about stroking, she would
> stick out the index finger of her left hand,
> straight as a ruler. She curled the tip of her
> other index finger and rubbed it back and forth,
> along a centimeter's worth of the ruler, like a DJ
> scratching the world's tiniest record.
>
> OMing, she said, was fuel. "We call it 'tired and
> wired,'" she said. "Most women are 'tired and
> wired,' and OM is the exact opposite of that. It's
> like eating breakfast. That's what we eventually
> hope: Instead of a latte, women will have an OM.
> Because that's what regulates your body. An orgasm
> for breakfast, you know?"
>
> I was on my second iced coffee and third interview
> of the day, eyeing my iPhone in the middle of the
> table in fear of whatever news I might be missing
> online. I felt like she was talking about me.
>
> The notion of a therapeutic female orgasm has its
> roots in the pelvic massage, a cure for hysteria
> recommended by Hippocrates and a catalyst for
> empowerment prescribed by Austrian psychoanalyst
> Wilhelm Reich. But its current iteration
> originated in the '60s at Lafayette Morehouse, a
> self-described "intentional community" in San
> Francisco's East Bay suburbs espousing a
> philosophy of "responsible hedonism." There Victor
> Baranco, a Svengali-like former appliance salesman
> whom Rolling Stone once called "the Colonel
> Sanders of the commune scene," upgraded the
> practice for the Sexual Revolution. Residents
> called it a “deliberate orgasm” or
> “DOing.”
>
> Baranco, who died in 2002, was featured alongside
> Charles Manson in Mindfuckers, a book published by
> Rolling Stone's Straight Arrow imprint in 1972
> about the rise of acid fascism and the darkness
> that “lurks beyond the Aquarian Age.” He was
> infamous for pioneering three-hour public
> demonstrations of his disciples in orgasm, where
> “students sometimes passed out, fell out of
> chairs, and pictures fell off walls.”
>
> The Rick A. Ross Institute, an online forum about
> cult education, has devoted pages of commentary
> connecting Daedone's work to Baranco's. Similar
> accusations arose in Yelp forums after the New
> York Times profiled Daedone in 2009 and even in
> the YouTube comments on Daedone’s TEDx talk.
>
> Both OneTaste and Lafayette Morehouse told me that
> Daedone only took three classes with Baranco,
> clarifying that she actually worked more closely
> with Ray Vetterlein, one of Baranco’s
> disciples—“who had studied some with Vic but
> had gone on to develop his own variation and
> approach,” as a OneTaste spokesperson put it. A
> post by OneTaste's cofounder Robert Kandell from
> 2006 tells a different story, saying Daedone had
> "spent the last seven years devoting her energy to
> the work of Dr. Victor Baranco."
>
> The crowds that show up for OneTaste’s
> introductory “TurnOn” events or How To
> seminars are not briefed on the free-love origins
> of OM. On stage at TEDxSF, South by Southwest, and
> even at OMXperience, Daedone prefers to tell a
> more cocktail-friendly anecdote about how she, a
> former Buddhist nun-in-training, once met a guy at
> a Buddhism party who introduced her to the
> practice.
>
> Mechanically, it works like so: The stroker
> prepares for the session by massaging the
> subject's legs with "grounding pressure," while
> the stroker's gaze is focused on her clitoris, or
> at least the general area. After that is the
> "noticing" phase, in which the stroker is supposed
> to narrate what's being seen, using "non-value"
> terms, as though a woman can listen to her vagina
> being described aloud without feeling judged. Then
> the stroker gets into position, placing his right
> thumb at the edge of her introitus (the opening of
> her vagina) and the tip of his left index finger
> on her clit at the 8 o’clock spot. The subject
> is encouraged to give "adjustments," detailing if
> she wants the stroker to move a little to the left
> or to apply less pressure. Don't apologize, just
> ask, after which the stroker is supposed to say
> "Thank you." At minute 13, start winding down, so
> as not to be left loopy for the rest of the day.
> (You can watch a session, filmed for Deepak
> Chopra's YouTube channel, below.)
>
> [www.youtube.com]...
>
> Why do men sign up for an exercise that tells them
> to keep it in their pants? After some confusion
> about the upside, OneTaste addressed the question
> directly last year. “What’s In It for the
> Men?” a 13-minute free video produced by the
> company, features five guys praising the
> “revolutionary” benefits of OMing: increased
> confidence and intimacy in the bedroom, better
> communication with their (now more turned-on)
> girlfriends, and less pressure to perform. Left
> unsaid is that immersion in the OneTaste community
> also offers proximity to lots of sexually
> liberated women.
>
> The regimented process and talk of brain chemicals
> don't quite change the fact that OneTaste’s
> “killer feature” is clitoral stimulation.
> People look at you differently when you tell them
> you’re going to an orgasmic meditation
> conference. It’s rarely a pleasant look. The
> side-eye narrows further at the phrase “master
> stroker”: Are you going to do it? You’re gonna
> have to do it.
>
> I thought I might be able to get away with
> watching from the sidelines. Once I got to the
> conference, though, it was clear that the only way
> to witness the Group OM was to participate. That
> meant sitting through a training session to get a
> bracelet—one of those colored ones they give out
> at concerts with a sticky white tab at the end.
> Green indicated the person had been OMing before
> the conference. Red meant you were a noob.
>
> If you can, go with green. Trust.
>
> My Life With the Thrill-Clit Cult
> I still hadn't known what to expect when I walked
> into the Regency on Friday afternoon. A tweaky,
> happy energy bounced around the walls, the kind of
> anticipation that goes with knowing that half the
> people in the room are liable to take their pants
> off. All around me, people stopped to engage in
> close, meaningful embraces. I tightened the straps
> of my backpack, which I'd brought foolishly
> thinking I’d have a chance to crack open my
> laptop, and gave the hugging masses a wide berth.
>
> The day before the trip, a colleague offered a
> warning prediction over Gchat: “its going to be
> all old people. sorry. i can just tell.” As we
> scarfed down lunch from the food trucks
> outside—$12, payable by Square—a soft-spoken
> blonde from Berkeley who is majoring in
> “consciousness and transformation” told me the
> first question her friend asked was whether the
> people there were attractive.
>
> And sure, there was the Steve Wozniak
> doppelgänger in a knitted Pokemon hat, and a
> 70-year-old nurse with a walker. Good-looking
> people abounded, however. Well-dressed people,
> even. There was a stylish young couple, carting a
> newborn in a baby carrier, who showed up each day
> looking runway-ready (say Heatherette for her,
> Burberry for him). Fresh-faced One Taste
> employees, wearing soft t-shirts that said
> “Powered by Orgasm” or “Penetrate,” helped
> tip the pulchritudinous balance.
>
> There was more racial and ethnic diversity than
> your typical tech conference, and a wider income
> range. Gender-wise, it seemed split down the
> middle, avoiding any prospective imbalance between
> undersexed woman and willing male fingers.
>
> Coffee—the one freebie guaranteed at every
> conference—was nowhere to be found. The small
> beverage stations were tea only. Yet everyone
> seemed energized. Between panels, OneTaste
> staffers blasted Top 40 tunes—Flo Rida’s
> “Good Feeling” was on heavy rotation—and
> encouraged the crowd to dance, and they got up and
> danced, like really threw themselves into it.
>
> At the training session, Saturday morning, I sat
> in the front row to make sure I didn’t miss
> anything. Seated next to me was a cognitive
> scientist who does research for a major retailer,
> dressed in all-white like a cricket player on his
> day off. The retail scientist, who also leads a
> biohacking meetup in the Bay Area, told me that he
> learned about OneTaste after he heard a talk by
> Dr. Sara Gottfried, another oxytocin enthusiast
> who was also speaking at the conference. He said
> the practice sounded like the “ultimate hormone
> hack.”
>
> I expected a PowerPoint of the female anatomy with
> a laser pointer beamed at the clit, or at least
> one of those weirdo . But the session offered
> little anatomical specificity. The hosts were
> fully clothed: Justine Dawson, a petite blonde
> Canadian who used to be a social worker, and Ken
> Blackman, a former software engineer for Apple,
> with the air of a competent accountant. The
> presentation focused on the steps in the process,
> and on the etiquette. Among us students was Naomi
> Wolf—author of Vagina: A New Biography, due out
> in paperback this holiday season—in the same
> tight blue dress she would wear during her evening
> presentation. I tried to suppress a laugh as Wolf
> scooted up to the side of the stage and squatted
> down to take pictures. Maybe she too was hoping
> for some cheat sheet.
>
> My Life With the Thrill-Clit Cult
>
> Laid bare at the training, OM started to sound
> retrograde, quaint even. I saw a few lesbian
> couples, and a number of women mentioned their
> “crush” on Daedone. But here was a
> heteronormative practice that didn’t mention
> pornography, fetishes, interior fantasy life, or
> any kind of kink—besides the no-pants group
> hangout. The most far-out aspect was the
> unapologetic emphasis on female pleasure.
>
> The day before, we'd begun with the intimacy
> workshop. Audience members were instructed to find
> a partner and ask each other a series of
> questions: Who are you? Tell me a secret. What do
> you want? The queries get repeated, relentlessly,
> in a way that strips off whatever varnish of
> professionalism or privacy you were trying to
> maintain. After every response, the asker simply
> says “Thank you," then resumes the onslaught.
> For each set of questions, you were paired up with
> a stranger nearby.
>
> For one exercise, I partnered with a computer
> security manager at a Fortune 500 company who said
> he liked to watch his wife get fucked and uses
> ropes. I did not doubt him. My next sharing buddy
> was a sweet, soft-spoken engineer from Alameda,
> who looked like an Amish Paul Bunyan. He made
> soulful eye contact as we asked each other Who ARE
> you? Who are YOU? over and over until we were
> close to tears. In short bursts, we shared how
> other people perceived us versus how we wanted to
> be seen. Those long, meaningful hugs started to
> seem less dopey.
>
> “How many of you were truthful?” Block asked.
> I raised my hand, but, truthfully, I'd held back.
> As disarming as the workshop had been, I was here
> to report, not because I believed.
>
> My Life With the Thrill-Clit Cult
> Now here was Justine Dawson, my orientation host,
> in a slinky periwinkle dress, slipping out of her
> underwear and climbing atop a massage table in the
> ballroom. She spread her legs about four-fifths as
> wide as they might go on one of those
> abductor/adductor machines at the gym. Daedone
> came back out wearing a black apron over her own
> gray dress, creating a Dr. Frankenstein vibe.
>
> I had been given a seat in the second row, next to
> a certified hypnotherapist named Clyde, who runs
> an academy in Los Angeles for ex-offenders. The
> only other reporters were from Playboy and
> Haaretz; OM has apparently gotten some traction
> with Orthodox Jews both in New York and Israel.
> "Sex is like drugs," Clyde volunteered, while we
> waited. "It sells itself. Now, what makes your
> drugs better than the other drug?"
>
> Clyde's biceps were immense. He said he had been
> through the Landmark Forum—another "personal
> development" company, with its own cultish
> undertones—and said Landmark and OneTaste were
> similar in "finding language that releases the
> inhibitions you have." I rifled through my
> backpack, found a Klonopin, and swallowed it to
> keep myself from bolting out of the room.
>
> But the organizers were canny and tried to ease
> the alienness. The female speakers were all in
> cocktail attire. ("My style guide is smart, savvy,
> and sexy. I didn't want anyone wearing any spirit
> garb," Daedone said backstage after OMX had
> finished—the only time I was permitted to
> interview her.)
>
> Bristol Baughan, a filmmaker and TED fellow, did a
> skit about how she'd freaked out when hired to
> film a short video about OM for Time: "She starts
> opening her pale (pause) white (pause) legs, like,
> THE WIDEST they can go...And the lights, they're
> on. Mercilessly on. And he is DESCRIBING IT. Her
> parts. Out loud." Laughter and cheers from the
> crowd. "'Pink brownish oval'....Now he's putting
> his finger in something. Oh, it's lube. Oh, it's
> ORGANIC lube. Of course. Fucking San Francisco."
> Cheers, applause.
>
> The narration moved to Baughan's own experience of
> getting stroked. Her voice dropped to a whisper:
> “Have I lost my fucking mind? If I do this, will
> I end up a sex addict and homeless on the street?
> And if I do this, I'm pretty sure it doesn't
> exist, but I'm gonna go to hell.” For any
> skeptics in the audience, there were their own
> prudish fears, coming out of Baughan's mouth,
> right onstage. Listen to how Victorian you sound.
> Everything happening is perfectly OK. This is
> normal.
>
> And now that another presenter had briefed us,
> like a vadge sommelier, on the "reverent, light
> sensation" from the clitoral ridge, versus the
> "rich, deep earthy sensation" down at the
> base—-it was showtime. Daedone told us about her
> vision of an "OM-based world," whose denizens
> would be "there to welcome those whose minds had
> been hijacked by the idea that appropriateness is
> somehow better than honest or the fallacy that
> it's ever better to pretend to be something than
> to actually be who you are."
>
> Off with the underwear, on with the apron. “This
> is solely a celebration,” Daedone cautioned us.
> “In the beginning, you learn scales. I did
> scales for years, Ken did scales for years. This
> is the equivalent to a symphony, so you're not
> allowed to compare yourself, just enjoy. Good?”
> Good or not, she placed a dollop of lube and her
> hand and began.
>
>
> --------------------------------------------------
> ------------------------------
>
> God only knows what view the folks in the balcony
> had. “Hoah hoa hah oh oh uhuhu.”
>
> --------------------------------------------------
> ------------------------------
>
> “UHHHHH. Ohhohohohoh.” From my seat in the
> second row all I could see were Dawson’s
> trembling feet, but she was mic’d and her moans
> reverberated through the ballroom. God only knows
> what view the folks in the balcony had. “Hoah
> hoa hah oh oh uhuhu.”
>
> “She's in,” said Daedone. The audience
> exhaled. “Right now she's in the optimum space.
> I can stroke firm or deep, she'll go with me."
>
> “Uhuha ohohooooohohooooooaoaa,” Dawson
> replied.
>
> Hendrix was really bending it now. Daedone's face
> contorted like a Kabuki mask and her hips bucked
> against the massage table as she strummed Dawson.
> At times, Daedone lowered her head toward her
> crotch, as if hearing some mystical hum. “It
> just sends electricity up your whole body,”
> Daedone said. It was hard to tell if she was
> getting off on the audience watching her perform,
> or whether the whole thing had looped all the way
> back around to a complete lack of
> self-consciousness.
>
> Soon, the 15 minutes were up. “I'm gonna give
> her some introital strokes so she can sleep. It
> just pushes all the blood back, makes her body a
> comfortable place to be,” Daedone said, as
> calmly as if she were Ina Garten and Dawson a ball
> of dough. “Haaaaaaaaaa,” said Dawson.
>
> “I think you can all feel it out there that she
> just landed. It's my favorite part, where I can
> feel the heartbeat in my thumb.” The audience
> burst into applause.
>
> Then it was time for "sharing frames," where
> onlookers describe a sensation they felt during a
> particular moment in the OM. Men and women lined
> up at the microphone, letting out their inner New
> Age poets as Daedone murmured approval:
>
> "I think halfway through, I'm not sure, it felt
> like the front half of my body was being sunburnt.
> And there was a little soft arrow that stopped my
> breath."
>
> "There was a moment I felt my body was a shell, it
> was hollow, and I felt this white substance
> filling up from my pussy, inflating up my chest
> like a Michelin . . . guy."
>
> "There was a moment when it felt like my whole
> entire body was at a low, deep, expansive
> vibrating hum that just kept moving out."
>
> Had they really felt any of those things? The most
> I felt was relief it was over. As I waited in line
> afterward to introduce myself to Daedone, I caught
> a glimpse of Dawson, so blissed out and
> languid-eyed, she looked ready to melt right off
> her chair.
>
> The average time between first hearing about OM
> and actually trying it, Daedone would tell me
> later, is two years. For me, it was six months.
> The next day, I'd be taking my red wristband into
> the basement of the Regency, and it would be
> happening to me. Then it would happen three more
> times.
>
> Orgasms are good for you. No one's arguing against
> that. The message of OMX, though, went
> considerably beyond it.
>
> On Saturday, we heard from Dr. Pooja Lakshmin, a
> Stanford-trained psychiatrist who does orgasm
> research at the Rutgers neuroscience lab, and who
> is OneTaste's director of science and research.
> She took the stage in a form-fitting black dress,
> her nails done in hot pink—a James Bond casting
> director's vision of a neuroscientist—while
> Jeremiah crooned "Put it down on me, put it down
> me" over the speakers.
>
> Partner-induced clitoral stimulation, Lakshmin
> said, has a rare ability to stimulate the limbic
> system—that level between the neocortex and the
> reptilian brain, which she said goes ignored by
> psychiatrists. The only things that can match it,
> for release of oxytocin, are childbirth or
> breastfeeding. She displayed her own MRI, made
> while she was being stroked by Ken Blackman. It
> showed areas of the brain firing in bright traffic
> light reds and yellows. “Even though we were in
> this totally sterile environment, we felt so
> connected,” she enthused about their unexpected
> intimacy at the lab.
>
> Lakshmin didn’t come outright and say that
> Blackman was experiencing the same oxytocin
> overload, but OneTaste often implies that for
> strokers who stick with the practice, it feels
> just as intense, glossing over whether that means
> an erection, a climax, or just some psychedelic
> approximation.
>
> The notable thing about the lab is that it's run
> by Dr. Barry Komisaruk, who dismissed OM as "New
> Age-y" and unscientific in a 2007 SF Weekly
> article about OneTaste.
>
> I wrote Komisaruk, to ask if his opinion had
> changed. He emailed back: "I now better understand
> and appreciate several main claims of
> OneTaste....I think to the extent that OM can
> increase those participating individuals'
> awareness of their bodily sensations, it can be a
> physiologically healthful practice. However, I do
> not know whether the strictly prescribed, highly
> structured OM stimulation protocols are the
> optimal means of achieving any specific healthful
> objectives, as I am not aware of controlled
> studies comparing alternative relevant orgasm
> procedures."
>
> Lakshmin told us that before she joined OneTaste,
> when she worked as a psychiatrist, "I would just
> write lots of medications. I was kind of a drug
> dealer." Her practice was in Palo Alto, "so there
> were just tons of women who had everything. They
> were fancy, they had husbands, they were rich,
> they had fancy houses. They would come in and say,
> ‘Yeah, I'm really depressed,' or 'I'm really
> anxious,' you know, 'I'm not happy.' We would put
> them on medication and the medication would work
> for a little bit and they'd come back and be like,
> 'It's not really working.'"
>
> The OM experience is nothing if not attentive. In
> the initial orientation, Dawson and Blackman had
> explained the importance of "safeporting," where
> the stroker tells the woman exactly what he is
> about to do before he does it: I'm going to give
> you some grounding pressure now. Safeporting,
> Dawson said, accesses "what we call the vigilance
> center of the mind, which is quite a bit larger in
> a woman's mind than in a man's brain."
>
> The structure and restrictions, Daedone said in a
> Saturday Q&A, are part of what makes OM a formal
> practice. A finger instead of a tongue; the thumb
> placed on the outside, providing a "symbolic
> connection" to intercourse while making it
> difficult for the stroker to feel involuntary
> contractions, forcing him to pay attention. "The
> form itself is usually time-tested," Daedone said,
> "and it's time-tested to open unimaginable
> doorways that you wouldn't open were you not to
> follow the precision of the practice. Like, why in
> the hell do you walk into a zendo with your left
> foot? Who knows? It's just weird. But you know
> what? You do it and you discover, something new
> opens."
>
> The Group OM sessions—there were eight of them
> on the schedule—were held in the venue's lower
> level, "perfect for corporate receptions,
> banquets, product launches, and tabletop trade
> shows," according to the Regency's website. Before
> each one, the rotunda was crowded with people
> looking for their intended partners, or trying to
> find one.
>
> Friday night, after the demo, Van Vleck had
> introduced me to a startup cofounder, preppy and
> chestnut-haired, who said he'd learned about
> OneTaste at a tech event. He looked like he'd
> stepped out of an admissions catalog. He asked if
> I wanted to OM, and I'd said yes. But he was
> almost too good-looking. This was too wackadoo; I
> wanted someone wackadoo to do it with. I was
> relieved when our schedules didn't match.
>
> If you’re loitering downstairs for the GroupOM
> and don’t have a partner come stroking time, you
> have the do the reverse walk of shame back
> upstairs. Once I watched a spiky-haired older
> woman haplessly pleading with a jittery-looking
> guy, who read as gay to me, to tell her whether he
> wanted to OM. “All I need is a yes or no,” she
> beseeched, half-slouching in front of him.
>
> “It’s not your responsibility to take care of
> her,” a One Taste employee in a t-shirt said,
> throwing up a hand to separate the two.
>
> Shortly before one of the Saturday sessions was
> about to start, I met Ryan the acupuncturist. He
> was tall and blonde, with hipsterish glasses, and
> built like a defensive tackle. He wore a green
> wristband. Short story shorter: I made like Molly
> Bloom.
>
> “Ladies please find your nest. Gentleman walk up
> to the stage, please wash your hands and find your
> supplies,” a OneTaste employee informed the line
> snaking down from the rotunda.
>
> Ryan went to sanitize his hands and to pick up a
> pair of latex gloves and tasteful glass container
> of coconut lube ($14.95), free with conference
> ticket. I entered the doorway. There were hundreds
> of “nests,” made with the Signature OM Kit
> ($184.97)—blue yoga mats, covered with
> slate-gray blankets and scattered with plum
> pillows—side by side. Some OMers had chosen to
> personalize with a colorful scarf or blanket.
>
> The giant room was divided into two parts. I was
> assigned a spot in very last row of the smaller
> part, which, I hoped, would minimize the number of
> people who would see me doing this thing. Oh,
> Lord, I’m actually doing this thing. Holy
> fucking shit, I need to shut down all the Wifi in
> my hometown because I am about to do this
> unspeakable thing.
>
> Normally I don’t even change clothes in the
> Crunch locker room, but I figured the faster I
> took my pants off, the quicker I could stop making
> accidental eye contact with other people’s eyes
> and vaginas. All around me were number of
> unexpected couplings: a man who looked like Kevin
> Garnett with an older white woman with dimpled
> thighs; another older white woman and a fellow red
> bracelet she had to instruct, heavily, through the
> process.
>
> Maybe it was the fact that I was the squarest
> person in the basement or the fact that I’d been
> through hours (months?) of preamble for half a
> sitcom’s worth of potential weirdness, but lying
> down on the mat felt about as revealing as when
> you go to those cheapo massage places and get
> stuck only a flimsy curtain away from the next
> guy. The grounding pressure helped.
>
> Everyone was told to begin at the same time.
> OneTaste instructors walked around the nests
> offering adjustments like it was a yoga class. I
> tried to ignore the cacophony of
> women—caterwauling and moaning and generally
> making the kind of animal sounds that would never
> pass a porn producer’s edit—to focus on my own
> experience.
>
> And? Was it a gateway to the OM-based lifestyle?
> In the right hands, it’s a helluva good time.
>
> “Some people are stiff as a board,” Ryan said.
> “Your orgasm really opened up.” I thought
> about telling him that I hadn't really climaxed,
> but I realized that was besides the point: the
> oxytocin had kicked in. When it came time to offer
> “frames,” suddenly there I was, whispering to
> Ryan, sounding just as shroom-y as every other
> motherfucker on the mic.
>
> Afterward, I wandered around the Regency from
> panel to panel, delightfully faded, with an
> occasional tingling sensation in the back of my
> legs. Is this what Trudy and Sting feel like all
> the time? I still wasn’t sure if OMing was
> something I could actually get into. I just knew I
> wanted to try it again.
>
> And so I did, an hour later with the cognitive
> scientist. Then the next day with the yogi, whom
> I’d swiftly dismissed the first time he asked,
> then lastly with Ryan again. During one session, a
> woman wailed through the entire 15 minutes. Happy
> sobs, or cathartic ones, I think. At registration,
> everyone had been given a red card to hold up if
> they ever felt uncomfortable. I never saw anyone
> use it.
>
> After the 15 minutes were up, the cognitive
> scientist told me the group OM topped that time
> he'd asked a cabbie in Tahoe to drive him
> somewhere weird and ended up at the Bunny Ranch
> while Marilyn Manson was visiting. I just nodded.
> The yogi told me his “Indian spiritual name”
> and bemoaned the fact that the world has
> “separated the clean chakras from the dirty
> chakras.” I took a deep breath and nodded
> again.
>
> Speaker after speaker, through the weekend, traced
> a path from despair to enlightenment, guided by
> the power of orgasm. The energetic and
> self-assured Van Vleck talked about how she had
> formed an elaborate plan to commit suicide before
> discovering OneTaste. Dr. Lakshmin recounted a
> failed marriage to husband who'd looked like J.
> Crew male model, and her subsequent
> self-discovery. Her Meetup.com profile now lists
> her as a member of the Radical Feminist Activists
> group, as well as the New York/New Jersey
> Polyamory Meetup Group and the New York Pick Up
> Artists group.
>
> At one point on Saturday afternoon, though, the
> immersive optimistic mood took an unwelcome turn.
> The speaker was Robbie Richman, the former Zappos
> culture strategist. Tony Robbins is among his
> other clients, so I expected light-hearted
> platitudes. The organizers played "Blurred Lines"
> for his intro, and he sang along, rigidly rolling
> his head: "Maybe I'm out of my miiiiiiiind."
>
> He had discovered OneTaste, he said, at one of its
> TurnOn events, which mimic the emotional ups and
> downs of OM the way the introductory "Who ARE
> You?" drills had. "I've done so much personal
> development work," Richman said, "and rarely have
> I had that feeling of shaking and fear."
>
>
> He followed up by phoning one of the OneTaste
> coaches. "She came up with this one line that just
> zapped me," he said. "She said, 'I think you're a
> predator masking around as a New Age nice guy.'"
> The audience cheered, as if they had heard the
> phrase before.
>
> The coach told him, he said, "We gotta get your
> beast out. We gotta get the beast out, and in
> order to do that we gotta turn up the heat, we
> gotta heat up the system to get that beast
> out...There wasn't a hesitation, I didn't even
> know what they were gonna charge. I just said,
> whatever she's gonna say, I'm gonna say yes."
>
> He'd been in therapy for anxiety for years, he
> said. "Nobody ever said to me: Maybe you're Just.
> Turned. On." Applause.
>
> But then he recounted his OneTaste experience,
> which began with his arriving at 1080 Folsom and
> turning over his clothes, cell phone, and keys.
> "Of course this is all by permission, this isn't
> forced," he said. They sent him "to the edge" of
> his comfort zone, he said, sending him out to the
> Tenderloin to talk to homeless people. Then came
> the "beast exercise": "It wasn't sex. It wasn't
> sexual. It was, we went to a room, and I had this
> desire to just like rip her limbs off, and it was
> interesting because I felt it all, and she felt it
> all, just screaming. But the interesting thing
> was, I was barely touching her."
>
> The approval had drained out of the room. You
> could hear the folding chairs creak. Sadism, it
> appears, was too off-brand for OMers. After all
> his self-discovery, Richman's stiff smile still
> looked like a mask that was about the crack. At
> the end of the conference, the white-haired yogi
> would tell me that when he witnessed these
> transformation stories, he could see both people
> at once: the one the speaker wanted to become, and
> the one they were.
>
> Richman concluded with a grand pronouncement: "It
> was this feeling of religion... And as a person
> who studies culture like me, that's one of the
> highest echelons, because religion involves the
> full body, the full spirit experience...And it's
> got its articles of faith, the principles of OM,
> that blow my mind. Principles that apply to life,
> not just orgasmic meditation. And this lifestyle I
> was starting to see, it resembles a monastery...
> Except rather than deprivation, it's to
> acceptance. It's to desire. It's to pleasure. It's
> to freedom. It's to connection."
>
> It made me appreciate how charming and skillfull
> Daedone is. Because coming out of Richman’s
> mouth, it sounded insane.
>
> Daedone was unavailable for interviews till the
> very end of the conference, after they'd handed
> out glow bracelets and insisted that everyone
> "agree to come down pleasurably." I asked her how
> she felt about cult accusations that followed her
> online.
>
> She stammered a bit, then opted for frankness: "If
> I were a person out there, and I heard about a
> group of people who were living together and were
> doing this practice where they were stroking
> genitals, I would probably think the same thing.
> Because I wouldn't have any context to understand.
> Because there IS no context for connection in our
> culture. There's no context for any kind of female
> pleasure. There's no kind of context for sexuality
> within a rigorous practice.
>
> "These things, as far as I know, have never been
> explored skillfully. Any time it's been explored,
> it's been sort of on the fringe. And that's one of
> the reasons why I absolutely wanted to bring it
> into the mainstream...because that stuff hurts,
> it's terrible, really terrible, because it's the
> OPPOSITE of what I want to do...One of the reasons
> why I wanted to bring it into the mainstream was
> so that there were checks and balances. Really,
> the model is Wikipedia, where everyone gets access
> and everyone puts their part in."
>
> Like the speakers she brought to the stage,
> Daedone has her own twisted road to enlightenment
> to share. When she was in her mid-20s, her father,
> who had always been a distant figure in her life,
> went to prison for molesting two girls. She said
> he never behaved inappropriately to her; they had
> long been estranged. At 27, she learned that he
> was dying of cancer and only had hours to live.
> That trauma propelled her to study at what she
> called a “mystery school of theosophical
> studies,” then graduating to Buddhism and
> celibacy before finding orgasmic meditation.
>
> Her desire now is for OneTaste "to go into the
> belly of the beast and begin to heal this trauma
> about misused sexuality." I asked her if it tied
> back to her relationship with her father.
> "Mmmhmmm," she murmured and softly nodded her
> head. “Yeah, I think amends in the world.
> There's this beautiful idea in somebody white's
> book—the idea that your darkest spot is actually
> what becomes your purpose.”
>
> The mainstream seemed, to many of the people I met
> at OMX, a bit out of reach. They also had
> something in their past that they were trying to
> work through, or some unnameable need. Jeremy, a
> skinny twentysomething from Austin, told me during
> one dinner break that after his first OneTaste
> experience, "this complete reckless behavior
> kicked in all of a sudden." He moved into the
> OneTaste house in Austin, with only $140 to his
> name, and decided he wanted to become a
> professional boxer or start his own gym. He
> weighed maybe a buck twenty.
>
> Others mentioned attending Tony Robbins seminars
> or Mama Gena’s School of Womanly Arts, which
> teaches women "the art of receiving pleasure."
>
> "I just love the attention, and I think it helps
> you get better" another twentysomething kid told
> me, bugeyed and fidgety, on the sidewalk before
> the alcohol-free Saturday dance social. Did it
> feel like the company was a front encouraging some
> kind of sexual deviance? "There's plenty of sex
> among members of the community." But, he said,
> "it's a big deal around here not to use OM as
> foreplay. The OM itself is kept intact...If it's
> shady, it's as little shady as you're gonna get."
>
> "Sometimes its amazing and sometimes it's brutal,"
> a comedian who lives at 1080 Folsom and performed
> at the dance told me. "It's not for teenagers, you
> know what I mean? Its only probably the right
> place to play if you're an adult.”
>
> The normalizing effect of being surrounded by
> these people in a hyper-sexualized environment had
> warped my boundaries. At night, I would take the
> Muni back to my Airbnb—located across the street
> from Twitter’s Mid-Market headquarters—and
> collapse almost immediately from mental
> exhaustion. Before I boarded the bus, I made sure
> to take off my lanyard, which featured the words
> “AGENT OF ORGASM” above a picture of my face.
>
> The final comedown, after I exited the Regency for
> the last time, was brutal. It felt like Suicide
> Tuesdays after a drug binge, and I hadn't had
> anything but that lone Klonopin all weekend. In my
> Airbnb, I turned off all the lights, huddled under
> a blanket, ordered chicken soup on Seamless, and
> trolled Netflix for a romcom. In OneTaste’s
> teachings, "cracked open" is a state to aspire to,
> but outside the auspices of the conference, I just
> wanted to put myself back together.
>
> I was torn between a heady sense of liberation and
> an unease about why their spiel had worked on
> me—for the weekend, at least. I had just
> finished The Love Letters of Nathaniel P. on the
> plane ride to San Francisco. The book chronicles
> aspiring writer Nathaniel P. as he reduces a
> series of smart and capable romantic interests to
> a quivering pile of need. There were moments at
> OMX where I thought those female characters could
> use some time in a nest. On the other hand, the
> thought of describing "the container" at some book
> party in Brooklyn made me jump up and yank the
> blinds closed to block out the last gasp of the
> afternoon sun.
>
> Next morning, I headed over to Folsom Street. All
> weekend, I’d been hearing about the happy,
> glowing women walking out of the building there.
> For some people, it’s what led them to OneTaste.
> But when I got there, there was a young woman
> crying outside, as her friend comforted her. One
> of the OMers I ran into as soon as I walked inside
> was on his way to Harbin, the nudist hot springs a
> couple hours north.
>
> The comedian had invited me to drop by 1080, but
> as soon as I arrived, I was micromanaged by
> OneTaste employees. Dawson and Ratnathicam flanked
> me on the couch. After a few minutes, Ryan, who
> had been volunteering at the conference, sat down
> at the far end. Awkward introductions were made
> before everyone figured that we had, ahem, met
> twice. I could barely look him in the eye. I
> talked to the coaches about the swirling anxieties
> as soon as I left the Regency. "That a big part of
> what we teach—how to come down well," Dawson
> said. "That's part of the reason we have a
> community."
>
> I asked if any of the tech workers in SOMA were
> One Taste clients. “There are a lot of people
> who learned to OM that are not necessarily public
> about it," she said. "It might surprise you."
> Dawson responded to my questions politely. But
> even her face, now blank and guarded, looked
> different from the melting woman I saw after the
> demo.
>
> Still there was something comforting about being
> around people who had been through the same
> strange trip. Who else is gonna listen to you
> share frames?
>
> The day after I returned to New York from San
> Francisco, I drove upstate to a house in the
> Catskills that I had rented with some friends. The
> next evening at their urging, and after a couple
> cocktails, I did a demonstration of the OM
> position, using a fellow guest as a prop. The
> re-creation stopped at the grounding pressure
> phase.
>
> In the country chic living room, with my prop’s
> legs still splayed open, I looked up at my friend
> and her boyfriend, both of whom live in San
> Francisco, snuggled together on the oversized
> couch and asked—fingers mentally crossed—if it
> seemed like something that maybe possibly might
> catch on?
>
> “No," she said, immediately. "Absolutely not. It
> is definitively fringe.”
>
> Ryan emailed me twice in the ensuing months to
> tell me he was visiting New York City and ask,
> very politely, if I wanted to OM. “Remember, Yes
> or No are both acceptable answers,” he wrote. I
> couldn't bring myself to email him back.

and that is another sad example of a writer who is completely unable to "investigate" OneTaste as the Gawker article claims. (of course Gawker is doing it simply for 'clicks' for their business).

One has to wonder, why only people with absolutely no experience and no training in the new "persuasion techniques" write these pieces on OneTaste, and other groups like them?
The writer Nitasha Tiku seems to be completely unaware of the meta-level techniques being used on her by OneTaste, and is simply wrapped up in her own personal feelings, as well as the superficial salespitch of OneTaste and Nicole Daedone.
There doesn't seem to be any knowledge by her, that the entire OneTaste experience she is having at the OneTaste sex-LGAT, and also the in-office visits are scripted persuasion-sessions.
All she can do is be aware the person seems artificial in some way.
You have to have some professional training to investigate these groups, and not just be a generic blogger off the street, unless you just want to advertise for the group, or get lured into it.

Why didn't Nitasha Tiku post a copy of the OneTaste waiver she had to sign? Or even mention it? Why not?

Why doesn't someone with some knowledge of LGAT's and persuasion go and REALLY investigate the techniques being used on people?

The other thing no one talks about, is how malleable human sexuality is. So when a person is "exposing" themselves in this way to a cultish group, and possibly even having "orgasms" under the thumb of the sects-leader, literally in this case, you get "linked up" to this person.
So OneTaste, copying Baranco and Co, are using the sexual response and human orgasm to link you up to their sect, and their commercial company.

Never mind when you go to an LGAT seminar to investigate it, you have to be EXTREMELY CAREFUL about which junk of theirs you let into your mind, as those Master Persuaders are very intelligent and know what they are doing.

The #1 thing they try to do is to "link pleasure" to the group and the groups Leader IN YOUR MIND.
So there is nothing WORSE than getting half-naked and then allowing the sect to intimately trigger those physical feelings in you.
For those with knowledge of LGAT's, how much worse can it get?
Just think if Landmark or Byron Katie was also doing that in public?

Its extremely dangerous to any person, not just vulnerable people.

Its not hard to imagine vulnerable people getting "addicted" to this level of stimulation, triggering, as well as exhibitionism and attention-seeking.

When Baranco did this, it was simply doing a form of "live-sex show" for advertising. What is the difference with OneTaste? There is none.
Its a OneTaste live-sex show for advertising.

And notice the men mentioned in the article, they don't even want to know her name, just to OM and see her naked, and just ask for it directly and quickly, one assumes so they don't "waste time" talking with a woman who doesn't want to OM with them?
So OneTaste is like a meat-market pick-up bar at closing time.

Its also no different than any other sect where each member is encouraged to brag about how amazing their meditation experience was, and try to one-up eachother. In this case, you will have OneTaste acolytes bragging and exaggerating to get the attention and approval of the Leader.

The entire thing is pretty much the worst kind of LGAT you could ever imagine...an LGAT where you are naked, passive, on your back, with the Leader of the sect literally pressing your buttons.

What would be worse?
Possible the only thing worse, would be if they could hook up a machine to your brain's pleasure center, and then hand the controls over the cult-leader.

Then they could control you like Pavlov's dogs, and get you to salivate when they ring the bell.

There has to be an extreme warning put out to those interested in OneTaste.
Onetouch with OneTaste could potentially ruin a young person's life. If she is vulnerable, or even if she is not, she could get roped into OneTaste for years, as she is handing over the keys to her psyche to OneTaste and Daedone's LGAT system.
The "men" in Daedone's system are paying for access, they are not vulnerable in the least.

In terms of psychology, the entire OneTaste exposing system, does seem to be some type of reenactment of sexual abuse fondling? Where someone is fondled by a stranger, and expected to "perform" to get approval?

Even Nitasha Tiku admits to this, when she "lies" to the male when he assumes she had an orgasm, and she didn't. What does that sound like?

Honestly, if you really look at OneTaste in the context of the LGAT, its really as bad as it can get.
There is NOTHING NEW in what Nicole Daedone is doing. NOTHING.
From the flirty fishing, to public orgasm-shows, to the Scientology-like levels, to the Landmark sales techniques...to the sex-commune, etc etc.
One assumes Nicole Daedone is even using MLM techniques to get people to enroll others and up-sell them for more seminars for years.

There is NOTHING NEW in OneTaste.

When you look at the full picture, the most severe warning possible has to go out about OneTaste. OneTouch by OneTaste, and a person could get hooked into it for years. You are handing over the keys to your psyche-body to the OneTaste LGAT system. OneTaste will not only take over your mind, but your body and sexual response as well. They will also take your wallet, keys, phones, and of course the goal is your bank account, like every LGAT.

It will take time, but eventually the terrible consequences of OneTaste will become public.

But sadly, the "writers" and the general public have basically no knowledge of how these sects actually work, and just deal on the most superficial level.

Almost can't put it into words the level of personal risk involved in fooling around with OneTaste.
On top of all of this, some people are "attracted to dangerous situations" unfortunately, so that adds another level to it.

Its hard to put into words, but its very sad what is happening to so many people, and they have no awareness of what is being done to them.

And for OneTaste, one has to put up the more serious warning possible.
Its all extremely dangerous, not just the sex part, the entire LGAT and group persuasion part.
Probably Nicole Daedone doesn't even know the extent of all the dangers, as she is just copying other's techniques to make money and have an Ego-trip of being the leader, and acting out what was programmed into her in her other cult experiences. Sometimes victims from one sect, go on to found their own sect, and then do the same thing to others.

But Reese Jones knows exactly what is going on, and it seems its just a big "social experiment" for him in controlling other people like TCP/IP connections, as well as a chance to engage in "open relationships" with younger women, as noted in his Meetup profile above. Reese Jones is like the wizard behind the curtain in terms of OneTaste's expansions, and he has obviously tried to shield himself from the consequences of this.

OneTaste has the potential to cause extremely serious damage to people, not just vulnerable people.
Stay away from OneTaste at all costs.

You're doing great work, much better than the media on this topic, so don't think nobody has noticed.

Couple notes:

1. Expecting actual journalism from bloggers is pointless. Not that all bloggers are bad, that is not true. But things like Gawker, and hell Yahoo news, have completely dropped the bar and it is perennial amateur hour. Writing itself has been devalued and in the internet era where "anyone can do it", writing no longer pays anything. Why pay someone to write investigative journalism for web clicks when you can have someone write a slideshow piece with some stock photos and call it "10 Worst States to Retire"? The people do their 10 clicks on the slides and that is more valuable in monetizing your internet presence than a 3-page investigation into, say, Onetaste. THEN after realizing they wasted their time, they go into the comments area to complain "why the hell did I read this, why does Yahoo post these articles"? And each click when you post, sign in, approve your post, etc has more ads and generates more clicks.

2. Wikipedia is evil and run by evil people. Jimmie Wales is a former pornographer and Von Mises follower, like all the bitcoin/Ron Paul/Libertarian fanatics who like to shoot up places seem to be these days. Some of his staff also have incredibly sketchy backgrounds. Yet, he is treated as a "wise statesman" of the Internet. It's disgusting. It would not surprise me at all if they were excepting money for "selected editting".

The Anticult Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> (EXCERPT for educational research)
>
> Quote: "The articles also reported the allegations
> of a former student, Alan Steele, who said that
> More coerced students into prostitution and
> provided them with LSD and other illegal drugs".
>
My understanding is that Alan Steele brought suit against Morehouse and lost and had to pay damages - anyone know how to get access to court records online?

Thanks

Turning persons into action figures.

Does it stop at One Taste events?

Or are young women routed into various and sundry 'intentional communities'?

In his memoir, Welcome to Vietnam, Macho Man, Ernest Spencer described his
Roman Catholic upbringing.

"They told you to follow your conscience in deciding what to put in the collection plate.

"But first they got into your conscience.

"By the time I was five, my conscience had been re-wired, Catholic, style"

(Corboy paraphrase)

So, what happens to a young woman's intentionality after she has paid
thousands of dollars for the multitude of OT classes and let herself
be persuaded to display her privates in public in front of a group?

Substitute intentions for conscience and ponder this thought.

After this pre-formatting, are you still able to have your own intentions?

Or have your boundaries become muddled enough that your own intentions, your
own code has been overwritten by someone elses code?

(Am using computer analogies here. But the richness of Enlish allows us
\to keep in mind that code can refer both to the code that runs computers,
and code, as in code of ethics--part of someone's inner boundaries?"

At OT are you seen as a person, or as a puzzle to solve?

Only your gut and wisdom can sort that one out.

Now, whose intentions are you living out in one of these intentional communities?

Your intentions, or some one else's code that has overwritten your own intentions?

And these intentional communities? How many women vs how many males?

Do the ladies remain, or do many leave and require frequent replacement?

Do the males leave at the same rate as the ladies, or do many of the males
remain?

Whats the age range of the ladies invited to join these intentional communities?

Whats the age range of the fellows/

And what is the age range of the fellows who remain while the ladies leave?

Actually...it was obviously a SLAPP to try and censor Allan Steele and the SF Chronicle, which they lost.

[forum.culteducation.com]

"Steele maintains that the lawsuit was designed to silence his public criticism. "It was nothing more than that," he said. "They wanted to shut me up." And he said he may sue the university to recoup his $300,000 in tuition fees and his $10,000 in legal bills."


Lafayette School Drops Suit Against Ex-Student;
Dan Reed, Chronicle Correspondent
San Francisco Chronicle 10-30-1992


More University, the Lafayette sensuality school that is battling county officials over its homeless encampment, has dropped its libel suit against a former student who claimed university officials encouraged students to take drugs and coerced them into prostitution.
In May, the university filed the $120 million libel suit against Allan Steele, a Florida hypnotherapist, claiming a letter that he wrote asking for a tuition refund "contained false and vicious allegations" that damaged the school's reputation.

Steele had sent More officials a copy of a letter addressed to the state Council for Private Postsecondary Education, which oversees the university. Steele never sent the letter, which outlined his allegations, to the state.

Among other things, the letter claimed that More's founding guru, Victor Baranco, and his wife, Cindy, gave Steele and his wife marijuana and prescription narcotics at the Baranco's home in Hawaii. ...
-------------------


"A California Appeals Court has ruled that members of the media are protected
by a California statute designed to deter and punish litigants who bring
defamation actions to chill speech. Under the law, which enabled the San
Francisco Chronicle to win early dismissal of a libel suit, the plaintiff
could be forced to pay the newspaper's attorney's fees. (Lafayette
Morehouse, Inc. v. The Chronicle Publishing Co., August 9, 1995)."


------------------------



SageGreen Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> The Anticult Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > (EXCERPT for educational research)
> >
> > Quote: "The articles also reported the
> allegations
> > of a former student, Alan Steele, who said that
> > More coerced students into prostitution and
> > provided them with LSD and other illegal
> drugs".
> >
> My understanding is that Alan Steele brought suit
> against Morehouse and lost and had to pay damages
> - anyone know how to get access to court records
> online?
>
> Thanks

Its very clear, that somehow guys like Reese Jones are able to use their insider influence of Wikipedia to keep themselves out of Wikipedia.

If you search Google for

"reese jones" wikipedia

you will see various posts where Reese Jones says he "supports" Wikipedia, and that does not mean moral support. Obviously that is financial support.
Quote from Reese Jones pages...

"I support open source public education via UC Berkeley, Wikipedia, Chabot Space Science..."

That could be an actual news story, which which would be easy to carry out.
A writer for a news org, could just add information about Reese Jones to the OneTaste wikipedia advertising piece.
Also try to create a Reese Jones wikipedia entry, as he is a notable person.

There seems to be only one old Wikipedia mention on Reese Jones, where his name is mentioned.

So that could be a real news story...try to get Reese Jones into Wikipedia, and publicize the process of how his name is blocked, and how that might be related to his apparent early financial donations to Wikipedia.

Obviously, guys like that who are Wikipedia insiders and financiers, but who are not generally famous, would prefer to keep their name out of Wikipedia, as then they can control more of the public information about them, and not the general Wikipedia editors.
As in other cases, its the very few super-moderators of Wikipedia who seem to do the shaping in cases like this.

That would be a real news story.