"The operation was carried out from a distance using a concentrated ray, something like a laser, which burns only one spot through several layers."

Could not the Elohim, who dictated this very sentence, have proffered something rather more specific than "I>something like a laser"--or are our minds simply too primitive also?

The ethics of Raelianism is as vague as its ontology; because Raelianism is a one-trick pony so far as religions go. The most that can really be said is that it veers closest to Crowley's maxim "Do What Thou Wilt Shall Be The Whole Of The Law"--but without ever admitting it. There is the usual concern for the rights and welfare of others, and, as usual, the rejection of moral duty. There is the usual 'non-judgementalism': everybody has the right to be themselves and nobody should be forced into doing anything they don't want to do, etc--dressed up as profundity. The closest thing to a controlling principle is a concern for the feelings and welfare of others--a kind of Do What Thou Wilt So Long As Nobody Else Gets Hurt. Daily devotions are equally undemanding:

"You will think at least once a day of the Elohim, your Creators.

"You will try to radiate the message of the Elohim around you by every possible means."

But there is a darker side to Raelianism. One of the things we discover about the Elohim is their hatred for the physically or mentally disabled: "symbols of failure and therefore unbearable to the eyes of the creators." Implicit in this is the rejection of weakness or imperfection--prompting parallels with LaVeyan Satanism. The similarities are indeed stark. Anton LaVey preached survival of the fittest, the abolition of the welfare state, and the maintenance of order through fear. Rael recommends the electoral principle of 'geniocracy'--government by geniuses--under which system "only those with an intellectual capacity of at least fifty per cent above the average should be eligible for a public post." Exactly how intellectual capacity is to be measured, and by whom, is never stated. To be eligible to vote individuals would require "an intellectual coefficient of at least ten per cent above average." He also urges the establishment of a universal single currency, a common language and a world government: which presumably he would be best qualified to lead. (One senses LaVey would have approved.) He also advocates of the corporal punishment of children, which he argues should be "rigorously applied."

This does not seem to correspond with the more user-friendly version promoted by Britain's 'national guide' Glenn Carter, for whom Raelianism means ". . . choosing to love all of humanity like your brothers and sisters; and not to tolerate, but to accept." Except when they happen to be disabled, mad or ugly.

It must be repeated that Glenn is a good-looking man. Alexandra Nanchen ('British press attache' for the movement, being Swiss), who accompanied Glenn to the interview, is a very good-looking woman. Everything I read in The True Face of God suggests that Rael envisages the future as a very beautiful place indeed. 'Science' will have eliminated all sickness, ill-health and disease. The need to work will have been replaced by a harmonious existence of exercise, art, and meditation. Every physical need will be met through the use of 'biological robots' devised to perfectly resemble the most exquisite human forms. (Anton LaVey was also fond of imagining similar futures. A devoted fetishist and collector of mannequins, one of his favourite films was Futureworld, in which human fantasies are brought to life in theme parks populated by robots.)

Sex is, in fact, one of Rael's favourite preoccupations. In an account of his early life he describes his initiation into "physical love-making" at the hands of two Parisienne hostesses. He eschews marriage, and exhorts his followers to do the same. He wants us to enjoy our bodies, and to feel no guilt in sexual union regardless of the circumstances. Some may baulk at his approval of abortion as a convenient form of contraception, especially when he is keen to trace his own conception to December 25 (a specious claim, I expect). But his utopian vision of the future, where sex and love-making consume a large part of the inhabitants' energies, is naturally very attractive.

The disappointing thing about The True Face of God is that, when he isn't indulging in religious quackery, ranting on about the Elohim, or trying to establish a biblical basis for his framework, Rael is actually very impressive, so far as it goes. There is a lot of stuff with much to recommend for it. He is passionately anti-papist; his virulent attacks on the church have provoked wrath in France, from where the movement was forced to relocate. He is also refreshingly honest on the subject of work, criticising those who would elevate it to the level of the sacred, and urging humanity to seize the benefits of science to alleviate drudgery. The impression I glean is of a genuine religious thinker, albeit somewhat cranky, whose lack of formal education is evident, and with a conviction and self-belief which could be considered pathological

Leaving, I meet an Australian, by the name of Gary; who by a curious coincidence was Rael's personal bodyguard for three years. He buys me a beer and we talk.