If I were a magnetic, demented guru with a thirst for power and teenage girls, what I would do is organize a parish of desperate, unemployed locals in, say, Pocatello, ID; rent a condo, and convince them all to swallow a handful of sedatives, tie a plastic bag around their heads, and leave behind their earthly forms in order to ascend to star HD 129893 before the next penumbral lunar eclipse. It's fast, it's simple, and it might even solve a lot of their problems.