CLOSING THE DOOR ON SHERRY SHRINER

 

On July 19, 2010 I posted what I thought was a humorous piece on a bizarre group of people on Facebook whose belief system was so far out there, I thought it was satire. That post, which you can read by clicking here, began a several years' long fascination on my part with this charisma-free individual and her increasingly demented claims. 

Her followers did not find me amusing, as evidenced by the post above, and soon the novelty wore off and I decided to look into their leader. What I found was a hodgepodge of conspiracy theories with roots stretching back to anti-Semitic beliefs, Hollywood-inspired tales of aliens, and astoundingly odd misreading of the Christian Bible. Despite what was already enough to convince me the woman was mentally unbalanced, it was when I heard her speak that I knew for sure she was dangerous.

I listened to several of her podcasts and even suffered through one of her rambling, schizophrenic "books" because I just couldn't believe there were other people taking her seriously. Eventually, I started writing about her and her cult of adherents. I published the articles on Suite101 with the intention of trying to figure out if Shriner was a con artist or a true lunatic. I reached the conclusion that she was somehow, paradoxically, both. There really is such a thing as believing one's own bullshit, and no one excelled at it the way Sherry Shriner did.

After a while, it stopped being fun. People enjoyed the articles well enough, but they seemed to fall into one of two camps: The Dismissives, who felt Shriner deserved no attention at all, and the Popcorn Munchers, who looked forward to a good laugh. I was neither. There was something dangerous about this mush-mouthed individual, something dark and horrifying. I had gone from intense amusement at the outset to fascination to finally wariness. 

While I looked in on Shriner's antics from time to time over the next decade, I didn't feel the need to write about her. Others were already doing that, some of whom were doing a good job. Still others were just out there as she, calling her a false prophet instead of dangerously mentally ill. Some even accused her of being the shapeshifting reptilian alien she labeled others as being. I was not the first person to write about her, but it seemed like most others were more concerned in proving she was wrong in favor of their own ideologies. Clearly a war was being waged between extremists in the world of self-righteous zealots. 

The years passed and more dangerous paranoids took the stage, most notably Alex Jones. The QAnon movement seemed to encompass all ludicrous theories in a similar way to Shriner but with even more frightening effectiveness. Shriner was becoming a dinosaur in an era where her teachings were little more than an Internet footnote. Her voice had receded into the background of a rising cacophony of illogical, truth-bending, reality-denying imbeciles all believing their uninformed opinions to be equal to proven fact. I almost longed for the "charm" of her silly claims and assertions. Then I found out somebody was killed because of her and everything changed.

Actually, let's take a step back to 2012, not long after I had stopped paying much attention to Shriner and her wacked out cadre of supposed Orgone Warriors. Somehow, a story did not catch my notice that year, perhaps because it was a pivotal year of change for me. Apparently, a young woman from my home state who actually didn't live all that far from me committed suicide in a nearby park so she could be reborn as a spirit warrior in Shriner's so-called cause. Her name was Kelly Pingilley and she was, by all accounts, most likely an undiagnosed delusional schizophrenic who desperately wanted to understand the voices and urges in her head. Shriner preyed on people like her.

An event I did know about was the suicide and possible murder of former Shriner acolyte Steve Mineo in 2017. Mineo supposedly asked his girlfriend to shoot him in the head because he couldn't handle all of the online harassments from Shriner's followers coupled with his inability to expose her as a fraud. The details of the shooting are bizarre and covered in length on the Vice docu-series "The Devil You Know." But you can read a more detailed account here.

Shriner immediately went into self-preservation mode, blaming the girlfriend by branding her a vampire and a demon and shapeshifter and a clone and whatever else dropped out of her evil ass. She blamed NATO for Mineo's death, which she claimed was part of a psyop being waged against her because of her dangerous status as God's holy messenger.

First of all...NATO??? Secondly, how could Mineo's girlfriend be all of those things at the same time? She even used doctored photos to make it seem as if the woman had been replaced with an older-looking clone.

Who knows what other horrific things she caused during her time online? She was an unrepentant opportunist to whom human life clearly meant very little. Her "ministry" was her source of income and she milked it for all it was worth. 

Shriner died of a heart attack on January 28th, 2021, most likely caused by her reported chain-smoking problem. One would think a movement so strongly identified with its originator would die off with that person gone. One would be wrong. The Facebook page devoted to Shriner continues under her daughter's moderation and many claim Sherry wasn't killed at all. One person even wrote that she was "disappeared" by NATO and will re-emerge brainwashed,  refuting everything she taught. All I could write back was, "Now THAT'S how you keep a swindle going!"

That is most likely my final word on the subject of Sherry Shriner, warbley-voiced, poorly spoken, hostile and undeniably insane self-appointed Messenger of the Most High and purveyor of every batshit crazy conspiracy theory ever devised. May she fade into the background of collective memory until she is little more than footnote. 

"The Handmaid's Tale"- The Struggle was Real!

When I was much younger, my mother was my source for literature. She was my internet, albeit a far more learned and well-read source than most of the ones I encounter virtually. She introduced me to science fiction, Stephen King and Ray Bradbury. And even when my own tastes formed and I started branching away from what I considered her safer, more by-the-numbers interests, I never stopped respecting her opinions, as they were informed and well-expressed. I have, in fact, tried to live my life in a similar fashion.

So when I finally decided to give Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale" a chance, I found myself struggling with that respect in the worst sort of post-mortem way.

"What the hell, Mom?" I said to her memory. "Were you drunk?"

Realizing that was a horrible thing to ask a diabetic even if she's no longer among the living, I retracted that question and instead said, "Dude, seriously?" because nothing thrilled my mother more than being addressed as "Dude."

In fact, she loved it so much she appeared in my family room seconds after I said it.

"What's your problem?" she said.

"Nice to see you, too." I held up the copy of "The Handmaid's Tale" I'd borrowed from work and shook it in her direction. "But since you asked, this is my problem. Excuse my Swahili, but what the hell were you thinking?"

"You didn't care for it, I presume?" My mother's eyebrows were always thin and fine, yet somehow they became darker and bushier when she raised them in disdain.

"You presume correctly, Doctor Nadeau. You talked this book up throughout my teen years, made me think it was an untouchable, brilliant masterpiece of social commentary, and--"

"And?"

"And I'd like to know if you were still in the process of getting your meds adjusted at the time."

She crossed her arms and sighed. "You know damn well I never took anything except Insulin and pain meds later on in life."

Nodding, I said, "Which brings us to the real issue, then. I mean, I know we disagreed on matters of taste when I got older. You kind've settled into a comfort zone, most likely due to your health issues and all."

She shrugged. "Probably a safe assessment. I always said you should have gone into psycho-analysis."

"One shrink in the family was enough. But my point is, setting aside the clearly intriguing concept, this is one of the dullest books I've read in years."

"All right." She uncrossed her arms and took a seat across from me. "Why?"

I sat as well. "For starters, the writing is bland and self-conscious."

"How much of it did you actually read?"

"I got through the first two chapters."

A heavy sigh. "Christopher,is it possible you'd like it more if you stuck with it?"

"Yes. It's also possible I could learn to like electrocution if I keep my feet dunked in water."

At this point, her image shimmered as if someone had flicked the lights off and on. I asked her if she was okay and she smiled. "What else didn't you like about it?"

I went into greater detail then. I told her how even though it accomplished the requisite task of establishing its universe early on, it never felt genuine. It felt, in fact, like a preachy commentary piee with a thinly disguised parable as its artful dodge. I concluded with the fact that the entire concept is wrapped in a cozy cocoon of white middle class feminism that presumes only gender divides stand between people and freedom.

"Okay, fair enough," she said. "But are you sure it's the book you're upset about or is it the fact that you're disappointed in my praise of it?"

I dropped the book onto the floor and stomped on it twice. "The book."

She grinned, telling me I hadn't lost my flair for the dramatic. "It's okay that you didn't care for it. If I taught you nothing else, I hope it was to develop your own tastes and be able to defend them. You've done that. So, why am I here?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's been years since I've had the opportunity to berate you. I've missed it."

She smiled that smile I can only recall in spontaneous memories or maybe sometimes find in an old photograph and said, "I miss you, too."

I watched her shimmer again, this time fading a bit. Our time was nearly up, then. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, sweetie."

"Book still sucked, though."

And as she faded, I'm not entirely sure, but I think she flipped me off~

Postscript to that Sherry Shriner Post.

Not long ago, I posted this regarding how the insanity and heedlessness of Sherry Shriner led to the death of one of her followers. In that post, I write that I was still blocked from viewing Shriner's page. Recently I discovered that is no longer the case.

Interesting. When one is no longer blocked, one can also be seen by she who blocked him.

The Danger of Sherry Shriner Revealed.

Seven years ago I posted this exchange between the followers of a woman named Sherry Shriner, her followers and I. At the time, I was astounded by the sheer insanity I saw on her Facebook page (I'm still blocked from viewing it, by the way) and amused by the interplay that resulted from my attempts to locate a modicum of logic in their bizarre belief system.

In a nutshell, Sherry Shriner believes in every conspiracy theory regarding aliens, monsters and secret societies out there. She uses the Bible as a way of combining them all. Soon after the reposted exchange, I decided to start investigating this individual to see if she was insane or a con artist. I wrote several articles, finally arriving at a disturbing conclusion: She was both. It is indeed possible to believe one's own delusions and still be a manipulative confidence artist. Charles Manson and Jim Jones come to mind.

Shriner does it in a post-modern online way but she still leads a cult of unstable wackjobs desperate to believe what she says ties up all the things that make them uncomfortable or uncertain and presents them in a neat, prepackaged bow. Most of my articles are, sadly, no longer available but as I published them, I went from outright amusement to deep concern. Cults have always fascinated me. I actually began a novel featuring feuding cults fighting over a captured alien. But Sherry Shriner always struck we as someone potentially dangerous and now I know why.

Somebody has died because of her insanity.

It's not funny anymore. This woman needs to be institutionalized right alongside her equally mentally ill followers.