Blue Sky Bullshit

Imagine this guy in a minister's robe...

While we were entombed in this spiritual shit house, the Witches of Ellsworth, the Bishop and all of the brain-dead followers told us over and over again our spiritual leader was not only a spiritually perfect being, he knew every damn thing about any damn thing.  

Not matter how obscure, no matter how useless, Reverend Bill Duby was the authority on all things that matter and if he wasn't an authority on a topic, it didn't matter - which explains why Bill kept trying to dodge the law and knew not a damn thing about it.  Come to think of it, Angela and Robin don't know a damn thing about it either.  No wonder every time they try to pull a not-so-legal stunt, it blows back.

So, if you knew more than Bill about a topic that mattered (like maybe how to keep your marriage together or keep a steady job so you can feed your family), you'd find leaders, followers, your kids, everyone else's kids and Angela's fucking chihuahua saying not only are you stupid, your information is inferior to the divine and spiritually enlightened information of Bill Duby.

I keep thinking back to times when Rev. William Duby, the psychotic founder of the Academy for Psychic Studies, would posture himself as the ultimate authority on all things of any importance.  Things like the nature of relationships between men and women - never mind he divorced his first wife to cavort with Angela Silva, then dumped Angela to "marry" Robin Dumolin, then some years later stated with false remorse and honest anticipation his want to "divorce" Robin Dumolin, all while living with Angela Silva instead of Robin.  

So, I guess that kind of three-way relationship makes Bill a relationship expert as no one else is stupid and reckless enough to carry on an affair while having an affair.

Bill Duby would also present himself as an expert and visionary whenever the need arose to squeeze his followers for money.  One example was the infamous Blue Sky Ranch in Bethel Island, CA.

While Bill grew up in various foster homes around the East Bay and later (after a short stint in the Army) spent a lot of time in the gambling halls and dark streets of Emeryville as a card sharp and street preacher, his background was no barrier to Bill being a farm expert and authority on buying and developing real estate.

Bill spent a good deal of time showing me pictures of a farm he claimed was similar to the farm where he spent his childhood.  Bill reminisced about the beauty of the farmland in Upstate New York and told me quite a bit about it.  Imagine the look on his face when I said I spent a good deal of time in Upstate New York and lived in Pennsylvania farm country.  Imagine the look on my face, when years later, I discovered Bill Duby was never anywhere near any damn farm in Upstate New York or anywhere else.

I would have burned Bill in effigy but the bastard was already dead by then.  My consolation was his ashes were scattered all over the Blue Sky Ranch so not only were the Bethel Island winds blowing his dead ass all over the delta, the farm animals were doing to him what he was doing to us.

Bill's warped and deranged vision for the Blue Sky Ranch was to develop the property into a corporate/church retreat resort and maintain farming/livestock operations while keeping his two Witches in the cheap-ass trailer home the previous owner left behind and allowing his followers to park their recreational vehicles on the premises so Angela could throw them out at any time.  

As Bill pushed his followers to put his demented dream into reality, he became the expert on all things related to farming, construction and property development.  Bill directed all manner of construction and wanted his vision to be manifested in his way and his way only.

There was the infamous 12-foot fence he ordered erected.  Soon the building inspectors ordered it removed as it was twice as tall as allowed.

There were the Tuff Sheds Bill ordered for all manner of things he wanted to house in them - like animals who needed far less accommodation than an expensive Tuff Shed and more space than a Tuff Shed provided.

Bill ordered his followers to purchase dozens of trees as their gift to "the people's place" and provide slave labor to plant them, only to see the trees dry up and whither.  Come to think of it, it wasn't just the trees that dried up and withered.  The followers weren't far behind.  It never occurred to Bill to buy one or two trees and make a test planting, nor did it occur to Bill to do some research and see why there weren't many trees growing in Bethel Island (it was the weather and soil conditions).  

Old, dilapidated trailers were ordered so the followers providing slave labor would be housed well away from Robin Dumolin and Angela Silva - and so they can be hauled away quickly if a neighbor complained or if Angela had someone to dispose of.

Since Bill claimed he could buy a farm animal for $30 and sell it immediately for $90, hundreds of animals were purchased with the intent to raise them for market.  Under Bill's expert guidance, more than 90% of those animals (mostly goats) died before they reached maturity.  Attempts to raise other animals such as horses and even exotic animals like llamas never saw success.  

Oddly, after dozens and dozens of kid goats were exterminated through stupidity, Robin Dumolin was said to have made the Eisenstein-ian discovery that baby goats should be fed goat's milk rather than the supermarket milk that was ordered for them.  Robin's amazing feat of deduction was accomplished when she made a phone call to the UC Davis Veterinary School, where a kid from 4H said "uhhhh.... you're feeding supermarket milk to goats?  Lady, did you ever fucking hear of goat's milk?"  One wonders who ordered supermarket milk for kid goats and why an idiotic, obvious observation was treated as pure genius.  Oh, right.  They were cult leaders.  My bad... 

Of course, there was the interminable and pointless fight with the county.  Bill's old trailer home was required to be raised above flood plain.  Bill hated parting with money but he hated being shown up and told what to do even more.  He sent people to attend local council meetings, speak with local attorneys, review local ordinances.  Since the council meetings didn't have much relationship to his situation, the attorneys said the ordinance was pretty damn clear and as the followers couldn't really understand how to read the law, those efforts didn't get him very much.

Bill Duby's had everyone he could reach running in circles or asking the same damn people the same damn questions over and over again.  Things like asking county officials for clarifications of the ordinances hoping for a loophole (to which the officials said over and over: "the law says you have to do this, so get off your ass and do it").  When I looked around to see what kind of mischief Bill was undertaking, there were at least four people involved in some kind of "research" or other kind of pointless activity related to Bill dodging the law.

Bill went around in circles himself.  As he would have lost prestige if he lost his bid to avoid compliance with the law and worse, he couldn't sell a property he just purchased.  There was no real way for Bill Duby to come out looking like the authority and development genius he made himself out to be if he did the right thing and complied with the law.  Bill complained and stonewalled, complained and stonewalled more and ducked and weaved while he complained and stonewalled, blaming everything from the lack of support from his followers to the "old boys club" at Bethel Island for his troubles.

Then he dropped dead.

From that point, the Witches of Ellsworth pressed forward the demented vision of Bill Duby.  Not well, but they did it anyway.

The crap double-wide was raised up on stilts even if the concrete slab it rested on wasn't up to the task of holding it up.

Slaves were whipped and beaten until construction on the illegal dormitory and living areas were completed.

Outbuildings were placed, animals were purchased, raised, killed and buried and every week, there was the envelope - the envelope where followers were told to show their loyalty through a generous donation of cash, check or credit card.

Thanks from the witches was non-existent.  No one I know recalled that the Witches fed their slaves even a sandwich or anything at all for their work.  They were only told to give more so that more animals could be murdered or building supplies wasted.

Sill after all the work was completed, Angela had visions of renting the grounds out for corporate retreats.  When it was pointed out a corporation was more interested in digs far more posh (which may have been me laughing my ass off when she said something about it), those dreams were dashed.  So after that, Angela believed her illegal structure was suitable for housing foster kids and troubled teens who could benefit from working their ass off at her ranch while the county paid her a pretty penny.  When it was pointed out accreditation, qualified staff as well as safe and legal quarters were required, that plan was quietly dropped.

So why is it, the vision of the Blue Sky Ranch went unfulfilled?

Because it's not so much a clear vision as it is a hallucination.