Sunday, September 25, 2011

Keystone Krooks

...but fair to the Witches of Ellsworth




Today's Guest Post is from "Anonymous".   Anonymous has generously contributed this piece on how the cult breeds and encourages minor criminal conduct.


I have a lot to say about this, but as I am exhausted from a very busy week, I will have to add my two cents after I get some fifty or sixty winks.




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The wannabe criminals 
  
In the cult there is a weird mentality that prevails and is very harmful to those who get sucked into it.  Much like a criminal gang there is a price that must be paid in order to belong.  You have to get along by going along.   If you didn't, they cult would make sure they pressured you or degraded you in front of others in meetings or classes until you did the same as everyone else. 
  
Even if what they wanted was illegal or not morally right, you would still have to go along with them if you wanted to stay there or if you wanted to keep from getting totally put down in front of everyone.  One of the things they liked best was to pretend they were criminals who didn't give a damn about obeying the law. 
  
Within a very short time after attending classes I was subtly persuaded to buy a motorcycle.  I had no desire to buy it and I couldn't figure out what was the reason for this until later. The culties had bought motorcycles and enjoyed cruising the highways like a motorcycle gang. They could pretend they were a gang without any of the problems with the cops that real gangs have. 
  
Of course there were certain culties who liked to pretend they were a gang more than others.  One of them used to always proclaim he was real tough and that the rest of us were wimps because we did not have balls as big as his.  He was rumored to have a criminal record.  A fair number of the men in the cult admitted they had a criminal past and the cult was a way they could hide out.  These men could recruit relative innocents into the cult where they wouldn't get into the trouble they might get into if they joined a real gang. 
  
While proclaiming how spiritual they were, the cult would cruise like bats out of hell on the tourist highways of Northern California with "The Dubster", Rev. Bill Duby.  The Dubster would show how macho he was by gunning his chopper to 100 MPH with a pack of culties behind him struggling to keep up. This was just after he gave a sermon on being spiritual and how much of a caring man he was.    
  
The wannabe criminals who used the cult to develop their criminal ways loved this because they loved breaking the law and not getting caught.  Everyone had to do something illegal or they wouldn't be accepted in the cult.  The leaders loved it because they can make the culties do criminal acts or anything outside the law whenever they wanted. 

After the Dubster dropped dead, the witches kept his tradition of behavior and mind control alive with weekend Male retreats. The witches would tell us males how important it was to have male companionship and would send us up to their house at Lake Tahoe for a weekend of indoctrination.

The witches would pick two of the culties who followed their orders to be retreat leaders in charge of the weekend.  The retreat leaders would start ranting and raving about following the teaching and would totally de-humanize and insult anyone who was enjoying the weekend on his own terms.  If any male showed a little bit of spunk and had his own opinion, he was reported on when they got back.  It was a way of monitoring who was controlled and who was going to be put in Kangaroo Court.  All the while, the leaders kept saying cult members had complete freedom.  But we felt like trapped animals.
  
The weekends were hell, like boot camp with a full schedule of slave labor to be performed while you paid for a relaxing weekend. One thing that they were scared of was the cops, and you were always given a lecture on keeping your mouth shut about anything that happened.  And a lot happened. 
  
I was afraid to speak to the police about some criminal stuff at first but was pleasantly surprised to find out that the cops have some knowledge of cults and take whatever they say about you with a grain of salt. After I left the cult, the cult leaders and their cronies decided to kick me out into the street and attempt to leave me homeless.

They started to vandalize my car to get me to move off the cult-owned apartment complex where I lived.  I really wanted to move out but I had nowhere to go because they had taken all my money.  If they just waited a while, I would leave on my own.  But no, they wanted to force me out by damaging my car.  I reported the vandalism of my car to the cops.  When the cops came, the culties looked out their windows.  While the culties watched, I showed the officer the damage to my car.  During the police report, one of the wannabe criminal culties stared at me from the cult compound with a nasty look on his face.  The cop was not surprised that I was being targeted and noted what had happened so that it was documented if the harassment escalated. 
  
Another example of their criminal attitude was them stealing internet service.  One cultie would pay for the service and pirate it out to the other culties.  They routed their lines through my apartment so I could be blamed if the internet company found out.  Each cultie in the apartment complex was required to pay a fee for the internet service. 
  
I decided I didn't want to be involved and cut the lines going through my apartment. Even though what they were doing was illegal they acted as if they were the ones who were wronged.

The Academy for Psychic Studies - Forced Feeding

Here's what the Academy for Psychic Studies contributes to their annual Thanksgiving Dinner.
What, you expected them to feed you?


During my internment, at the Academy for Psychic Studies, I attended their annual Thanksgiving Dinner.   It was a large affair (well, large for them), where a ton of food was served from huge foil trays by smiling people.  There were several turkeys, some ham, salad, vegetables and all the trimmings served.  Dessert was served as well.

For this spread, our captors at the Academy for Psychic Studies didn't make us pay a dime.  Honestly. The damn coffee still cost a buck, though.  So to so many who experienced this bounty of generosity, the dinner seemed to give them a softer side, a generous, warm and nourishing appearance.

It took me years to finally realize this dinner as well as the food served at each of the church services was not purchased by the Academy for Psychic Studies itself.

The ministers had to buy it with money from their own pocket.

They had to cook the food as well.

And they had to go to the store, then take it to the church.

How in the hell did I know this?  Because my wife was told she and a minister were assigned to purchase items for said events.

No minister was recognized for providing the food.  In fact, no one was to even ask for recognition.

The Academy told the ministers to bring the food because it was the ministers responsibility to nourish the congregation with food as they do with spiritual and psychic mumbo jumbo.

That each minister also ran up bills of hundreds or even more than a thousand dollars a month payable to the Academy for Psychic Studies didn't matter.  The fact that the couple of hundred or so a huge Thanksgiving dinner for your congregation would be affordable to the Academy given that they rake in a enormous profit every month didn't deter the Witches from forcing the ministers to buy the food for the church's event - then break their backs serving it up.


Well this year, you can enjoy your Thanksgiving meal.  Unlike the unfortunate souls remaining at the Academy for Psychic Studies, you can be thankful you aren't feeding people because you were forced to.  You can be thankful that you are serving yourself and your fellow man and that the light of freedom is shining upon you.

I'm really going to enjoy my dinner.  Hey, it's cooked one hell of a lot better than the crappy, salty, greasy, overcooked and otherwise deficient Thanksgiving meals the Academy served.

And that's because our dinner is cooked in freedom and served with true love for our fellow man.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Revelations Class - where Bill's true nature was revealed.



Steve Sanchez has generously contributed this excerpt from his book "Spiritual Perversion" (available by digital download from Amazon and in book form).

It's a powerful and chilling account of the rage and manipulation that Bill  Duby exhibited at the Spiritual Rights Foundation and the Academy for Psychic Studies.

I can't put into words how this segment of the book made me feel.  I was at SRF when this all happened.  But since beginning students like me were not allowed to know the inner workings of the cult and we were certainly not allowed to see how the ministers were treated, I never actually saw this particular incident.

That didn't mean I never heard of this event.  It was legend in SRF history - this time when Bill Duby himself "told off" the hothead Mason.

This event was the first time Mason turned the tables on Bill but it would not be the last.  Mason spearheaded a tell-all, front page piece in the San Francisco Chronicle, revealing the depravity and perversion at the Spiritual Rights Foundation and Academy for Psychic Studies.  At last, the truth came out.

It was a seminal, watershed event, opening the doors to further revelations about cult life at the Spiritual Rights Foundation and ultimately, to this blog.

As painful as the situation Steve Sanchez writes of turned out to be, it was indeed an inspiration to myself and so many others to turn their backs on the abuse, exploitation and depravity that was a near every-day event.


==============================
Spiritual Perversion
Chapter 23: Judas

During sessions when Mason wasn’t present, and sometimes when he was, Bill talked a lot about how Amy loved him; how he was able to give her the higher, or Godly, consciousness that all women need.

He talked to us all in the center room confidentially. “That is Masons problem. All women want two lovers. That‘s why women are always running to the doctor, gynecologist, psychologist, Indian chief, or guru. Mason’s problem is that I am giving her the Christ consciousness, and a woman is going to respond to that every time. If Mason can’t give her the light, he will lose her. She loves me for giving her the light of truth. 

If Christ were to walk in here right now all the women would instantly be in love with Him, and all the men would be in competition. That’s the way it is, folks. I didn’t write the book. If it weren’t for me Mason’s abusive ways might work on Amy, but I am here to give her the truth that grounds her. I know what she needs. Her own inner consciousness wont let her stray from the truth. She wants to keep her soul. 

It’s an awesome responsibility I have. I could fuck any woman in here. That is their job—to try and get you to fuck them— but as soon as you do they lose respect for you; you become a “mere male.” They wont listen to you. It’s not fair, but that’s the way it is. The woman has to feel innocent. If Mason were smart, he would take the blame for everything, but he’s not.”

   Part of me hated it when I heard this. It didn’t seem right that everything was the man’s fault, but everyone took what he said as sacred truth and we tried to work with it.

Mason’s term on the hot seat went on for months. Almost every Sunday night was an all-nighter.  At times unexpected twists were added to the mix, which Rev. Will extrapolated out to their worst severity. Such a twist took place when Rev. Will suddenly turned all the blame on Amy. Usually men were the culprits of all the problems, but it wasn’t uncommon for the woman to suddenly take the heat. 

This turn of events was precipitated in Revelation Class one night when, under Rev. Will’s questioning Rev. Amy admitted that she had been “trading pussy for money.” Rev. Will said she was being a prostitute and not a wife. The whole tide of fault now fell on Amy. He compared Mason to me as a man who was lost and yearning for a woman who had no intention of treating him right. All Mason wanted, like any man, was the pussy, and all Amy wanted was the money. It was all her fault now because she had misled him and she was the one who had “conjugal love.” As a female, she was the one who was a superior being. She had a made a monster of Mason by giving him too much pussy and hiding her motivations. Amy was devastated with guilt. She admitted it was all her fault. This went on for few days.

  A couple of days later the word was that Mason was completely wrong in letting Amy take all the blame. Rev. Will said, “Mason if you had a spiritual bone in your body you wouldn’t have let Amy take the blame. That is the same mistake Harpreet made. Can’t you people learn from other people’s experiences? Now you have ruined any chance of her coming around. By trying to be innocent you are being a woman, not a man. Her femininity is scarred beyond repair. She is pissed as hell at you. You have ruined her sex life by not being an upright man. A real husband would not let the woman take any of the blame because he knows that is the only way he can get her back. She has to be able to feel innocent. This is why Amy is blowing up, putting on weight. Her heart is hardened toward you. As long as you could take the blame, Mays, I had something to work with to put your marriage back together. Now you are fucked. Before you can have a marriage you have to get the divorce out of the way. I suggest you get a divorce, and then start dating again.”

Mason desperately tried to reason with Rev. Will and justify his own actions and point out Rev. Will’s hypocrisies, but we all sided with Rev. Will. We all agreed with Rev. Will that Mason had betrayed the teaching and his wife. Rev. Will began to speak of Mason as a “Judas,” and we all sensed the unthinkable—that he might leave SLF.  We all started to completely emotionally disengage from Mason, and at the same time we were strangely thrilled and delighted that it was him and not us.

 Rev. Will claimed, “Now Mason’s own gender is turning against him. When that happens, it’s over.” So later, at the 10-unit Alcatraz Street apartments, which SLF owned and which only SLF members lived in, I tried to do my duty to get through to him. In the middle of the beat-up concrete courtyard, I approached him and said, “Mays, I’d like to try and help if I can. I’m afraid you are closing down to getting a healing. It all comes down to an attitude.”

“I know what you are saying, Steve,” he replied, “but I am seeing things differently This same shit just keeps happening over and over, no matter what I do. It’s insane. I don’t think Rev. Will really cares about me, or you. He advised me to get a divorce and give up my daughter to Amy. That makes no sense. It’s insane advice. He is not what you think he is, Steve.”

  This shook me up, but I felt I knew better than he. I didn’t believe him, and I was astonished at how firm he was in his stance. Did I dare think about what he said? It made some sense, but no. I thought he was lost.
The end finally came. We all knew it must be coming, but it was still unthinkable to us that it was actually happening. At about 2:30 in the morning in a Sunday night Revelation Class, Mason and Bill were locked in argument. Of course Bill was doing most of the talking. Of late Mason had started retorting more and more. He made arguments to show how he had been wrongly painted to be a monster. No one had ever dared to do this before. He started presenting factual inconsistencies in Rev. Will’s positions and counseling.

  Mason blurted out as he swung his hands in the air, “You are influencing Amy to turn against me. Your advice is to get a divorce, and then start dating again? That is absurd; it makes no sense to a reasonable person. Currently there are five divorces or relationship breakups going on in here. I don’t think there has ever been a successful relationship in here. Ya know, everything is black and white to you. You always say “always,” but what was “always” one day is the opposite the next.”

  This really seemed to set Bill off. He interrupted, “Ha haaa! You just can’t handle the truth, Mays. The highest levels of truth are black and white. I am teaching from the “I am” consciousness. The others can see it. Why can’t you? You are always complaining about how I am influencing you.

 Everybody influences everybody. The world is influencing you people right out of your own bodies. Your mommy, your daddy, teacher, Indian chief, and guru are all influencing you, but you want to complain about me because I have the guts and tenacity to stand up to your personality programming. I am influencing you all for your own good. You guys are in the hypnotic trance of the world, and I am trying to wake you up to the truth! Mine is a thankless job! You complain, complain, complain —stuck in your poor-little-me world, thinking your intellectual logic is going to get you somewhere.

“That is too slow for me. I know the answer before you even think it, because I am in the “I am” consciousness. You better think about this if you want to save your soul: What does the man with no shoes say to the man with no feet? Huh? You are always wanting me to clean blocks out of your space. What if the block in your space is blocking you from hell? Huh? You haven’t looked at it that way. I am not above sticking you on a picture if it will save you from hell. I am working for your benefit, and you are fighting and scratching for your sick addictions to the world, which are taking you straight down. This is what I get—hell from you for doing a good deed! Go ahead, go out there.

 I will be a lot better off without all you maggot-breath motherfuckers! As soon as you get your carcass out of here with your funky energy, I will attract in ten more students who can really have the teaching. You are holding me back! You are blocking others from having this teaching. If the shoe fits wear it.

  “You guys don’t understand the power of being a spirit in your body. With the holy presence of Christ in your aura you could kill somebody and be blessed for it because it was God’s purpose. For those who understand, no words are necessary, and for those who do not, no words are possible.”

Mason got up and went to the bathroom. Rev. Will laughed confidentially and told Chuck for all of us to hear, “His mind is gone. He is possessed; see how he looks vacant. The hothead beings in his space are going to go over the edge when I talk to him now. He can’t handle it anymore. He is going to try to hit me. Watch. Then I’ll have his ass legally. Ha haaa! Be ready.”

When Mason came back, Rev. Will said, “Now Mason, listen to me. A word to the wise is sufficient while a whole book is wasted on a fool. I have the divorce papers here from Amy. You know, don’t you, that she is looking for full custody of Lindsey. If you have any brains left, which I am not sure that you do, you will give her what she is asking. She is going to get it anyway. You know that don’t you?

Rev. Will’s flat, intense face stared right into Mason’s, his eyes watery and blazing. You could almost feel the pock-marked texture of his skin as he held his gaze on Mason with other-worldly confidence. Mason remained still and stared back. He was red with anger but didn’t move his body much. His composure was surprising to us, but everyone watched Rev. Will, who said, “That woman will make you pay for it. I know her. She has learned her lesson. She loves ME now. If you keep this up, you are going to lose your daughter, and I will have them both.”

Mason said in a firm tone laced with anger, “I’ve done my homework. Even if I wanted to do it, the court’s job is to see that both parents have a relationship with the child.” No one really listened to or believed what he said.

“I operate from the spiritual plane, Mays. This is the toughest moment of your life. Your test from God is to be able to let go. The spiritual thing to do is to let go of your daughter in a faith action to God. If you can’t do this, your egotism will destroy you; you will turn black inside. Right, Maggie? Right folks?”

Mason and Rev. Will were practically face to face. We expected Mason to react, but he remained still.  As I watched him his eyes were raised slightly as all his awareness seemed to be engaged in pursuing a deep inward reflection. He seemed to be having some epiphany. What, I didn’t know. He remained rigidly guarded on the outside.

“No, that is not how it works,” Mason said. Then he turned to me and said, “Steve, would you ever do such a thing. Would you let your child go and give up custody?”

I didn’t expect this, and it put me in a strange position. At first fear and nervousness gripped me, but then I realized I boldly wanted to say that I wouldn’t… I agreed with Mason? 

As I started to speak, Rev. Will quickly interrupted, addressing Mason, “Mays, I think there is something wrong with your brain stem. You say you don’t have diabetes, but you have all the symptoms, and you are showing them now.

As he spoke, I said, “I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t let her go.” No one paid any attention because Rev. Will was forcefully pulling the current in another direction. But I heard myself.

Bill grew furious. He was yelling right in Mason’s face, radiating a threatening, barely controlled fury. “You want to hit me, don’t you, Mays? This is what men do—draw blood. Women bleed out of their pussy, men draw blood.” 

Bill’s spit hit Mason in the face. Chuck stood up from his seat. “You want to take a swing, don’t you? It is only the first punch that hurts; then it’s all adrenaline. Are you too much of a coward? I thought you had more balls than that, Mr. hothead!”

As Rev. Will taunted Mason an impatient fury leaked through his aura of inviolability. Mason grew red but didn’t respond. He said with frigid assertiveness, “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop spitting in my face. You are trying to get me to hit you, but it’s not going to happen.” 

This was awkward because Bill guaranteed he would react. The embarrassing thought went through the class that this could clearly be interpreted as a mental/spiritual defeat for Bill, but the class wouldn’t go there. Bill made light of it and then dismissed it and went on. Class went on till 7:00 in the morning.