Rama suggested that we act busy, so I went outside and pushed a broom. I smelled smoke. Nearby brush fires had been fanned out of control by increasingly strong winds. The thick, yellow sky reminded me of Blade Runner, a science fiction film starring Harrison Ford. The recollection caused my mind to digress down a corridor of memories, smoke, and mirrors. I pictured Rama in line at the movies, which is where he met disciples on Saturday nights. He was easy to spot. With arms folded, one foot forward, and head tilted back, he played the part of the self-possessed, insurgent general who had ordered his troops to carry on, despite the overwhelming odds. His bush of hair made him seem taller than he was. Rama incorporated into his teachings what he gleaned from the three, sometimes four films he saw in a typical week. He taught, for instance, that he was like Mike (Robert De Niro) from The Deerhunter. Mike risks a game of Russian roulette in war-torn Saigon to try to save Nicky (Christopher Walken), his friend. "You are like Nicky," Rama told me frequently. Drawing, too, from Mel Gibson's role in Road Warrior, Rama taught that it was okay for spiritual Warriors to temper their valor in order to survive. Rama taught that it was spiritually correct to see such movies as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Dawn Of The Dead, and The Shining, each of which he viewed repeatedly. Horror films, he claimed, were a clean way to alter our level of consciousness--"No drugs, no sex"-- and were a graphic reminder that each lifetime was but a brief, fragile opportunity through which to evolve. Citing Mick Jaggar in the concert film Let's Spend The Night Together, Rama further taught that it was perfectly natural for powerful men to develop their feminine side. "Part of the reason why people are so attracted to Mick," he said, "is because he puts out a very feminine energy." Rama later depicted himself in posters and newspaper ads as an androgynous figure. Perhaps as part of a doubt-diffusing lesson, Rama once invited about twenty-five inner circle disciples to see Split Image, a movie portraying a cult in the late '70s. When the cult leader (Peter Fonda) blatantly manipulated his followers, Rama laughed out loud. We laughed too. It was an odd moment; our laughter had a nervous edge to it. I laughed partly to fit in, and partly because I sensed, but refused to confront, the absurdity of the situation. Another time, Rama took followers to see Conan The Barbarian. When Conan (Arnold Schwartzeneggar) observes a cult leader raise his arms to silence throngs of "DOOM"-chanting disciples, Rama, who sat beside me in the theatre, turned to me and said, "He doesn't have such a bad set up." I figured Rama was only joking. I laughed, but laughed alone.