A few weeks ago, news broke that a dedicated communist group, the Center for Political Innovation (a name sounding neutral and innocuous) was suddenly disbanding. Shortly before announcing this, members and former members had come out with their accounts of being used and mistreated by the dear leader, Caleb Maupin, including sexually. As evidence, they showed private conversations with Maupin, which were, to say the least, disconcerting.
It’s worth noting that besides the very religious, people predisposed towards communism are some of the easiest to recruit by cults, as they are willing to relinquish all material possessions, live communally, work hard for “the cause” for free and suffer a number of privations.
It was, perhaps, the pinnacle of irony for “comrades” to be exploited by a so-called communist, while aiming to help stop all exploitation.
Communist Freedomain Radio
The views attracting members to this group couldn’t have been more different than those of Molyneux (when he brainwashed young people into joining Freedomain Radio, in his libertarian phase). Maupin’s behaviour, however, was very similar, and dare I say, even worse.
Like Molyneux, Maupin attracted young idealists, this time lured in by the promise of helping institute communism in the US – a promise so far from being achievable that it belonged on a different planet. A few literally had no resources, down to having nowhere to live. An arrangement was made for them to live in a dingy motel room, sell buttons and ask for donations in the street to support themselves, giving half the money to the group and sometimes eating expired food found in supermarket bins.
Maupin, who would tell them communism could only be achieved through sacrifice, lived in a mansion. On several occasions, he insisted members disengage from their families as much as possible to dedicate their lives to the cause.
The saddest thing is that these young people went through the experience for a hopeless mirage, as their paltry actions could never have brought about any political change, let alone a revolution.
Historical revisionism and stupidity
One wouldn’t think with all the current access to information, people could still believe that Stalin and the USSR were absolutely amazing; or that Putin was, for that matter. However, this one group did. Whether they started out with those beliefs or they were later radicalised by Maupin, they must’ve resorted to grueling mental acrobatics to ignore the death of millions to praise dictators.
His love for authority figures and heavy-handed leaders may not have come from political convictions at all – but instead, from his fetish of being dominated, which puts things in a rather comical perspective.
Unwilling participants in Maupin’s kink
Whereas all members were subjected to hearing about Maupin’s interest in physical discipline, some were propositioned or pestered with frequent conversations about his need for a dominatrix (he is, by the way, married). One member whose gender is not specified even ended up in this role, having turned to sex work out of sheer desperation; the fact that Maupin had caused them to lose their job in the first place only adds another layer. The fact that he also used them for sexting whenever he felt like it, without paying for their time, is again ironic, as it amounts to stolen labour. Another member turned to sex work for the same reasons, having to support two other comrades as well, and hand money in to the group.
By his own admission, Maupin obtained gratification not only from engaging in these ways with young people, but from having these incredibly awkward discussions with so-called friends as well. Members would play along for fear of being alienated from the group.
In-your-face cult tactics
As he once proclaimed to his wife in a text, Maupin had grand ambitions: a compound in the woods, where he would live with “the kids”, broadcasting his propaganda on the internet. Thankfully, because of his stupidity, that never materialised.
At some point, he insisted on members chanting for prolonged periods of time, which made newcomers very uncomfortable. He also rehearsed events, including his grand entrance, shrouded in ripples of applause. Members were told to isolate newcomers from their existing friends and integrate them into the group; during conversations, they were supposed to maintain eye contact at all times. Given these instructions, Maupin’s long-standing fascination with cults shouldn’t come as a surprise.
Besides encouraging some members to live and work together, some moving states to be near him, he kept them from communicating by praising them individually, while disparaging others in their presence. Those he selected for ostracism (namely those who had dirt on him) were painted as dysfunctional and ousted from the group. One person was depicted as a heroin addict (after having overcome their addiction) and another as an alcoholic, though they had never been one. His goal was very simple: to keep the rest of the group from finding out about his sexual arrangements and propositions.
Political leader…? Working class hero?
In hindsight, it’s very clear that whatever his beliefs, this individual established a group of devoted minions to exploit in any conceivable way. He was not the leader of an actual movement, but an ego-maniacal creep wasting everyone’s time.
Members’ communist utopia was vastly different than Maupin’s, the latter consisting of a forest compound and a bunch of young people tending to his every need. Unlike theirs, his was actually achievable, had he managed to control his appetites to some degree. However, he seemed more preoccupied with his domination kink than anything else, as he wouldn’t stop talking about it.
Lastly, because all socialist public speakers have dedicated songs, he should at least have this written in his honour:
The ballad of Caleb Maupin
As we convene in this motel room,
Eating old cat food to survive,
All hail our leader, Caleb Maupin,
The greatest communist alive.
With daily chants for revolution
And liberation in the air,
Won’t someone get this guy a cushion
To use as padding for his chair.
He calls on us to teach him manners,
This hero of the working class;
So put away your drums and banners,
And use the drum sticks on his ass.