The Academy for Psychic Studies - Who's gonna clean up this mess?

I am, admittedly, an asshole.  Not just your everyday Jersey Shore douchebag - I am a true asshole.

It's not like this is a deep-seated personal revelation.  It's my manly essence - if I get right pissed.

I recall several of the SRF slaves saying the founding psychotic, Bill Duby, relating he needed to handle me with kid gloves adding I am not someone he would want to see pissed off.

Well, I guess he's either truly psychic or one hell of a judge of character.

Since Bill was a master at the art of seducing anyone with something he wanted, I fell under his spell and swallowed hook, line and sinker.  I never discovered until much later that Bill's promise to get me the hook-up with a young female member was nothing more than another one of his deranged schemes to have me entangled in his web of deceit.

I found out later Bill gleefully related his shenanigans to his gathered ministers who responded to him as they were trained: with acceptance, support and applause.

Through all of Bill's obvious manipulation and coercion the ministers continually kept a watchful eye on me and this young woman to encourage a heavenly union anointed by the only damn representative of God worthy of having Him channel Himself through and that a relationship blessed by Bill himself was not only holy, supporting a successful union would make them look one pissload better in the eye of the mystic.

It wasn't until well after the bastard was dead for a few years I realized Bill would screw whoever was in his way to buy favors from whomever he felt he could exploit while hiding his criminality under a veil of spirituality.

That must be "don't let the left hand know what the right hand is doing".

In that particular event, the person he screwed was the woman I married - not carnally, of course (and if he did, I'd go after him and his Witches with everything I have) but in his own spiritual and holy manner.  When I finally found out what the deranged fucker was up to, I sharpened my knives and started counting my ammunition.  What he actually did is something I won't discuss in detail but I will say it would make waterboarding look like hopscotch.

Unfortunately, the opportunity to right this wrong evaporated with Bill Duby's timely demise.  On the other hand, there are so many wrongs perpetrated by not only Bill but by the Witches of Ellsworth Street their own opportunities for learning abound.

And these opportunities have our names written all over them.

We helped the Witches of Ellsworth Street build a structure we knew was illegal.  We gleefully recruited people into the cesspool. We spread the poison of the gospel of Bill Duby wherever we went.  We made the tapes, we took the classes, we sung the praises of the cult on the radio and internet.

My way of dealing with all this: balance the scales, right the wrongs and establish equity and justice.

Why the else would I still be doing this shit?  I don't get paid but I do admit this isn't costing me anything either.  The more people who read this blog, the more get pissed off at me.  The more I say, the more they are pissed.  Why can't I just become more spiritual and immerse myself into, say, a new religion or a turn-your-loser-ass-into-a-millionaire guru - I mean, motivational speaker.

I'll tell you why: I'm an asshole.  Once bitten, twice gets you a kick in the testicles.  

Now if this situation is indeed a dead horse as claimed and if I am sounding like a I am beating a dead horse while trying not to, why is it there are still people reading this crap?  Why is it the cult continues to troll for more tuna for their net. How come ex-members have experienced social, emotional and other difficulties well after their departure?  Doesn't leaving the cult and getting on with your life begin the healing process?  So why aren't I doing some healing through a pursuit of higher spirituality and participating on all the things employed by those who seek to leave the painful past behind?

Well bucko, this ain't about healing.  As the psychotic used kid gloves on me, I personally haven't the kind of trauma so many others experienced.  I never lost a marriage (I will admit I was lucky enough to ditch one of his arranged marriages before it actually happened ).  Nor have I had my children turned against me or suffered relentless humiliation at their hands.  I haven't lost every damn thing I ever earned, received or had a scintilla of a chance to have.  I didn't even come close to the fate of so many others who have been permanently scarred with PTSD or other serious conditions.

Of all the things I missed out on during my internment in this fucking cult, I feel damned fortunate I missed out on all of THAT.

This is all about setting the balance in the universe back where it ought to be and that involves sending a couple of Witches back to their hollow tree and smashing their cauldron into micro-bits.  I'll even set fire to their fucking brooms.

So if you can't laugh while I give the Witches of Ellsworth Street a bare-ass spanking for their transgressions and you can't chuckle when they fall on their faces as they make another lame attempt at regaining their lost fortunes, I guess you'd be one of the guys who like to pick on nits that don't exist here.

If you are in a place where you can look at what happened with a sense of humor or just plain enjoy a good read about it, then maybe you've got to the point where you are, at the very least, on the road to recovery and ready to be integrated into the world you were trained to fear.

So if you are in that place, Drain The Snake.  I make that call so you can participate in your own way to keep this cult on the ropes and balance your own inner scales.  If that is beating a dead horse, then I don't know what to say.  

I will say the present task is to acknowledge our own participation in this mess and do our own small part in setting things straight.

And that means we can't forgive and forget.  We move forward to the future while we remember where we have been.  We clean up after ourselves as we blaze our own trail and we share our tales as we need to, so we can make another's life one of opportunity, hope and achievement.  We owe that to ourselves and to those around us.

That's called integration, fuckers.

Hey, I told you I am an asshole...