One Charlatan to Another

By Rasa Von Werder, January 16th, 2021
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Chapter 3 I STRIP FOR GOD Part 3


the story of Rev. Judy Swaggart – but before I can get to her I must share ‘The Bogi-Yogi – Putz NutOn” – because the one tale flows into the other.

I met Rev. Swaggart at a vulnerable time. I had just spent like two years with this bogi-yogi who called himself ‘Prince Natta Maharaj’. I will call him ‘Putz NutOn’.



This is how the Putz looked, except he was a man & wore a turban, & always a tuxedo with a bow tie.  

Those days I went from bad to worse, from frying pans to fires. Putz came into my

life to ‘save’ me from a bad love affair – I got ill - he forever bragged to people he got me off my death bed {not true.} And he was eccentric, but intriguing in some ways. He hounded me for months, broke me down & got me to try out his beliefs & teachings. I became his most successful ‘pupil’ – so precocious that it frightened him & he wanted me to stop {will explain this story later on if I dare channel someone in Hell – I believe he’s there as a few years ago I saw him dead & it took six demons to carry him away, & they were sweating. This explains his being so attached to the earth….if you know the precept of the Egyptian Book of the Dead, you are weighed by God on one side of the scale against a feather, if you are heavier, you cannot ascend into Heaven. So this guy could only descend to the other place with the help of his friends.}

As I said, I spent some time with Putz NutOn, when he became so bizarre I felt my life was at stake. I knew Rev. Swaggart from him – we had a rocky relationship as first I was her fan, wrote a story on her in a newspaper I published – but then there was a conflict with Putz, he convinced me she was dangerous & trying to possess me{he was jealous of the influence} & so I repudiated her. But I called her, reconciled, & asked her to help me leave this guy – which she did.

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The day she came for me, in her presence, I packed all the essentials, shaking that he would come back, & tore out of there like a bat out of Hell, went to live with her for rent. She managed an apt in Hollywood, sometimes worked as a waitress. She asked for donations from disciples, but that & a buck could get you a ride on the subway. She would learn to use me like the Mother Lode of suckers, my sincerity /generosity, love of God, desire to learn of God – especially the Faith Healing Power she carried, made me the most loyal/ giving disciple she ever had.

When I spent time with her as was with the Putz, I was just a kid of 22 years old. I knew nothing of the world to speak of. Both these people used that against me, not sure which was worse in exploitation, but both were the same skin even though one was a demon, the other Anointed by God.

Indeed, the demon wanted me for sex, room & board {for all his talents he was indigent. He had no job, a full-time con man. He said he’d managed a building in the past.} What were his con-man hooks? He sang opera – just a tad. He could play one classical piece on the piano – the Song of India & some boogie woogie. He could tap dance & last but not least, was a prolific hypnotist. {Later I saw he used hypnosis to try & control people, but most people didn’t trust him.} He would demonstrate the trick everywhere he went, putting a person between two tables, stiff as a board. {That was one of the things I learned from him & worked professionally at it later, mostly helping those with depression.}

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But what he did full time was tell stories – like Sinbad the Sailor type wonders & exploits, {& he had proof for some of it, articles in newspapers where he put a huge pin through his palm & made an ‘instant repair’ – no blood}, his Dad the Maharajah in India. His possession of two Cheetahs as a boy – that he could turn into a Cheetah at times {I shuddered to find footprints on the railing outside my apt, traced it on see-through paper which I showed to Rev. Swaggart, she said he turned into an ‘entity’ & it was so creepy, to throw it away – sorry I did} & also that he had once known how to de-materialize, but had lost the key & was searching for it {& to find it he made me take him to the cheapest, shlocky horror movie theater in Los Angeles, a hundred times, to watch the most boring creepy movies I had ever seen, he on the edge of his seat, waiting for that ‘key’ of de-materialization.}

After practicing all the creature ‘taught,’ I began to get uncomfortable with him. The hypnosis I used on myself for hours a day when something broke through – I didn’t know what it was at the time, but it was the ‘still, small voice of God’ within us all. When I first heard it, 1971, clear as a bell, I said,

“Who are you?”
The voice said,
“I am you.”
“You can’t be me, I’m me.”

It took me a while to figure it out. This voice – my God Self, guided me, gave me answers to all I sought, including psychic answers for myself & the Putz. The Putz was impressed, asked what was the origin of cancer, I gave him the correct answer which I can corroborate today, it’s your own cells going rogue. But after a while, this Voice, of course, gave me my own Empowerment & it intimidated Putz – I was no longer listening to his voice but my own. H was used to obedience, this shook him up.

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I might add one humorous incident. He, from the time I knew him, practiced & preached vegetarianism – the way of many Hindus {by the way, his accent was English, not Hindi, that was never explained.}

One day he begged me to give him $60 {in 1971 that was worth at least twice as much}. I had never given him any money & we argued, he begged, argued & begged, so long, that I finally gave in. He never explained what he needed the money for, only that it would make him feel ‘secure.’

After he took the money& went off I realized what a fool I’d been, & headed out to the Sunset-Vine Tower where our offices were {my apt was a few blocks away}, to get the bread back. On the corner across this building was Denny’s. As I walked by Denny’s there he was, sitting at a table, enjoying the biggest steak in the house. I walked in & asked him what he was doing, he said,

“I’m trying to commit suicide.”

I demanded my money back & he gave me it. Probably because it made him feel like a big shot, handing money to me in front of other people – they thought it was his.

This incident made me realize he was full of shyt. I was faithful to the vegetarianism he taught – in fact, I did one up on it, I became a fruitarian. But what spooked him out finally, besides my new Voice that had all the answers, was that I could manage to go for four days & nights with only 1.5 hours sleep at night & NO FOOD. When I arrived at the office & told him that – not having any symptoms of hunger or tiredness, feeling OK, he got really scared & talked me out of continuing the practice. Yet he had preached a thousand times that a human could live without food or sleep -now having seen me do it, he changed his putrid mind. He said ‘I wasn’t ready’, it could hurt me. Translation,

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“You have become so advanced, so powerful in mind-over-matter {his main subject}, that I am scared. I can’t control you any more, you are beyond me. You have done all the things I peached & taught to everyone – that I could not do myself – it was just talk. But you actually did it, I am baffled & intimidated.”

The night before my departure a strange & scary thing happened. The creep came home late at night – he liked to use the office to regale people in the PM – I ran the office in the day {wrote & published a give-away newspaper called Enlightenment}- it was 12:00 AM. I was commanded that at 5:00 PM sharp I was to leave & he take over…… He walks in, I don’t greet him. He says,

“Even a dog knows how to greet its Master.”

I don’t answer that because I know how men can be – don’t challenge them, they get violent, & yes, for the first time he had recently pushed me back into the office when I was going to leave without his consent. {It meant he was losing control, feared my independence} That was a red flag.

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So now I decide to tell him {I should not have–never tell a man to his face you’re going to leave him},

“I’m going to leave you”

I say. He looks bewildered. Never have I stood up to him before.

I am sitting at the desk in the living room. There is my ‘sewing kit’ – {I did a lot of sewing those days, rented a machine & made my own dresses, fancy ones he liked – this carry-box, believe it or not, belonged to Marilyn Monroe – it was her makeup case. I had gotten it from Andre DeDienes, her photographer, the clown who brought me from New York to Los Angeles, photographed me, then dumped me on the street in Venice – why? You guessed it. At 16 I didn’t want to do sex with Grandpa.}

He goes through my sewing kit & takes out the huge silver scissors, which gives me the creeps. But then he puts it back & removes the biggest pin he can find. He says,

“I have taught you everything I know. But I’m not sure you can make it on your own. To prove to me you can, I want you to take this pin, put it through your palm, & make an instant repair.”

I ask him why. He says,

“To make me happy.”

I tell him I will consult with my Voice. I ask my Voice, & it says,

“Why should you make him happy? He isn’t trying to make you happy.”

I see the man look befuddled, & he said,

“I feel confused.”

Later Rev. Swaggart told me the Light of God surrounded him & baffled him, to render him harmless.

It was the next day I called the Rev & went with her………………… be continued

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