Jamie DeWolf

Turn off all ads on VICE.com Exclusive New VICE Documentaries Member Exclusive Features & Columns Turn off all ads on VICE.com Exclusive New VICE Documentaries Member Exclusive Features & Columns Turn off all ads on VICE.com Exclusive New VICE Documentaries Member Exclusive Features & Columns 4 Magazines Delivered to Your Door If someone claims to be related to a god, the general gut reaction is to smile politely and slowly move away. However, being the great-grandson of Scientology founder L Ron Hubbard, Jamie DeWolf almost has the right to make that claim. Jamie’s grandfather, Lafayette Ronald Hubbard Jr., was L. Ron’s right-hand man until he decided to abandon Scientology, change his surname to DeWolf, and start a crusade to expose what he claimed were lies espoused by both his father and the church. That’s a family tradition Jamie has continued—though somewhat unintentionally—and he’s now the last of his relatives who’s willing to speak out against the organization that his great-grandfather created. He’s also a filmmaker, circus ringmaster, writer, and performance artist and teaches kids at schools and young offenders’ institutions how to express themselves through art. I spoke to him about Scientology and the joy of Shakespearean dick jokes. Tell me about your art. I think art that celebrates everything that’s rowdy and raucous and randy in the world is a real way to bring us back to our roots, in a way. I remind that to students when I do writing workshops with them. You know, Shakespeare had mad dick jokes in all of his plays; when you went to see a Shakespeare play there wasn’t this sense, back in the day, that it was dry, antiquated language—it was pretty dirty and rowdy. How has the Church of Scientology reacted to your performance art? People who I believe were Scientologists came after me immediately after I wrote that [first anti-Scientology ] piece in 2000. They are absolutely in-your-face confrontational. A lot of people don’t know this, but my grandfather—L. Ron Hubbard Jr.—actually created a lot of the Fair Game policies) on how to come after your enemies. He helped develop a lot of that complete “destruction of your enemies” philosophy, obviously with his father guiding him. But then he started going after the cult himself, and he could just list off everything they were going to unload on him because he had helped, literally, to write the guidebook. Do you get bored of talking about Scientology? For some—because of South Park and stuff like that—it’s a wacky, surreal, funny factoid: “Aw, isn’t that cute—they believe in aliens.” But then you meet people who’ve lost 20 to 30 years of their life, or lost their houses. I was doing a circus yesterday and met a trapeze artist who’s seen the L. Ron Hubbard Life Exhibition in LA and was talking to me backstage. I found out her sister is in the Sea Org and hasn’t spoken to her for over 15 years, and her whole father’s side of the family runs Orgs and refuse to talk to her. I feel I owe something to the thousands—hundreds of thousands at this point—of victims who’ve been left behind and have been smashed into silence, including my grandfather, because of fear. You were recently in Clearwater, Florida — the global spiritual headquarters of the church — for an anti-Scientology conference, right? VICE membership also gives you access to our very best writing and exclusive new documentaries.