Patrick was born in County Clare,
Ireland in 1952. [this one's much more fun]
Patrick was born in County Clare,
Ireland in 1952.
He ran away from his abusive parents when he was ten years old and made his way to Dublin by hiding in the beds of pick up trucks and riding wherever they would take him. He lived by stealing whatever food he could find and sleeping in barns and garages.
Once in Dublin he began to try to find a way out of Ireland. He considered stowing away on a ship, but decided that the trip would take too long and he would likely get caught and thrown overboard.
He finally managed to get inside the luggage compartment of a trans-Atlantic TWA flight, and almost froze to death. He only managed to survive by wrapping himself up in clothing that he stole out of suitcases. He snuck off the plane wearing seven pairs of ladies' underwear, four mens' suits of various sizes and a lady's mink coat.
Once in the USA, he wandered the streets of New York City, again scrounging whatever sustenance he could find. Panhandling wasn't very successful until he hit upon the idea of folding his legs under himself and sitting on them in such a way as to appear legless. The donations then began to pour in. He made enough money to buy a five gallon army surplus gas can, and he found that he could make a decent living by siphoning gas from delivery trucks and selling it cheap to the criminal element of New York.
Patrick noticed at an early age that many of the so-called 'professionals' he met- doctors, lawyers, accountants- were no more intelligent than he was. In fact he thought himself to be of superior intelligence to many, if not most, of them. The only difference he could see between these highly paid idiots and himself was the official looking pieces of paper framed on their walls.
So, he went out and bought some frames.
After working extra hard for a year as a representative for several young ladies willing to entertain gentlemen at night, he had saved enough money to rent a small office and place an ad in the newspaper stating that the office of Psychologist Patrick McKeen, Phd., was now open for business. He specialized in rich society ladies that were unhappy with their boring lifestyles, and became a complete master at manipulating their emotions.
He would stroke their egos (and whatever else needed stroking) enough to make them feel a little better, then, just when they were feeling self-confident enough to get on with their lives, he would slip in some subtle jabs, just enough to erode their self-esteem and cause them to need more 'counseling'.
This went on for several years until he'd amassed a pretty solid nest egg. Bored with the charade of being Dr. McKeen, Psychologist to the Very Rich and Nearly Famous, he took down his fake shingle and moved along to the next stage of his career.
He decided to become a religious leader.
His previous experiences dealing with the rich, insecure society ladies gave him a solid background to draw upon. He figured that if he could make them feel more fulfilled (for a fee) it was only logical that he could provide spiritual fulfillment and afterlife success insurance to even richer, more insecure ladies (for an even larger fee).
He changed his last name to Robinson, and the rest, as they say, is history.
Lay your hand upon the Tee-Vee and say ay-MEN! Make checks payable to...