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Wade Frazier

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  1. Hi: I just had my new thread erased by the admin. That means that I am finished with posting to this forum. It was nice while it lasted. I will finish those Gary and the JFK hit posts in my own forum, but then will move on to other issues. Best, Wade
  2. Hi: This morning I began that new thread, and will stop posting at this one until I make some summary posts after I finish the other one. I also made my first two “plane crash” posts. I don’t plan to post at this thread again until I finish. I can see somebody wanting to begin another Decker-Tower thread that has not been marred by my posts, and I promise to not post at any such thread unless I am invited to, but I also do not plan to write much about Gary and JFK again at this forum, outside of that new thread that I began. Best, Wade
  3. Hi Michael: Well, I see the light at the end of the tunnel on these posts on Gary and JFK, and as I have stated, giving Gary’s account of his Tower conversation credibility is really what I can contribute most to this milieu, but I will also give my views on the JFK hit (and I have already, on this thread and elsewhere). The plane crashes are just another facet of this milieu. There are way too many of them to all be coincidence. Gary saw them happen in Ventura County, his pal Murphy, and Tower, died in plane crashes, and Tower’s crash was nearly the same day as Heinz’s, whom Gary wrote that he was also working with when they died. For me, what I have to contribute, particularly with this “rambling” series of posts, is that I make many “outrageous” claims, but everything that can be checked out in my writings will check out and then some. Some of the outrageous claims in my posts on this thread have included: Our pursuit of free energy resulted in a billion dollar bribe being offered, before they lowered the boom on us (and a voice in my head led me to my partner); An astronaut pal (I am his biographer) hosted a UFO conference, and the military soon made him an “offer” to do UFO research for them, and he nearly died immediately afterward, after rejecting their offer, of a “heart attack.” One close friend was given an underground demonstration of free energy, anti-gravity, and other technologies from the disenchanted faction of the cabal that manipulates humanity from the shadows One pal, who helped me in my hour of need, heard from John Tower, in the company of Audie Murphy and Bill Decker, that Oswald was a military intelligence operative who got recruited by E. Howard Hunt to be the fall guy for a fake assassination attempt on JFK that turned into a real one. He also repeatedly encountered Jack Ruby in the company of Mick Cohen. Each one of those events happened amidst great secrecy and sometimes with cloak-and-dagger tactics, and there are not paper trails for events like those. For the record, I do not know what became of that package on Oswald that Tower gave Gary, and Gary gave to Murphy for safekeeping, but I’ll bet that it was “recovered” long ago by the JFK cleanup crews. All that we have are the testimonies of those who lived the events. That is the nature of the beast. But, for people who have done any whistleblowing, Gary’s story is very familiar, as far as what his life became when he did not lie down and take it. All that I can do is help make the milieu that Gary operated in more real to my readers. What I lived through was all too real (and is far more spectacular than my public writings have been so far), and I have no doubt about the testimonies of the people in those events listed above. You can take it to the bank. I am partly doing this because I am the last man standing. The others in my circle are done or dead, and I need to do what I can to put it on the record. So, are any big revelations coming before I get done with my writings on Gary, JFK, and me? Nothing that beats those above, but there is plenty more to relate, but I’ll do it on a new thread. When I am done, I’ll make some finishing posts back on this one, and then I am going to largely leave behind Gary and JFK, and do my other work (I’ll keep posting at this forum, but not much more on Gary and JFK). This JFK issue is just a sidelight in my work and Gary’s. Not to belittle the milieu at all, but I am chasing the biggest event in the human journey and am not getting any younger. I only have so many heartbeats left. Maybe I’ll keep going strong for another 30 years like Uncle Ed did, but there are no guarantees and I have more work to do. Thanks for reading. Best, Wade
  4. Hi Michael: I am going to honor Karl's request and stop posting on this thread, and move my posts to a new one. I'll write about crashes soon, but I was not familiar with McNaughton's mishap. I don't know who might have wanted him dead, but yes, accidents like that make you wonder. Magic Bullet skeptic Hale Boggs might have just crashed "naturally." Sometimes, the timing and coincidences are just a little too convenient. The plane crash post(s) will come soon on the new thread that I will make. Best, Wade
  5. Hi Karl: I may be in too deep for that. It is not that off-topic, but kind of my last testament on my involvement with Gary, which I hope bolsters Gary's Decker/Tower story. Is there a way to strip off what I have done and move it? If so, I can do that. In my own forum, I made it a separate thread: http://ahealedplanet.net/forum/threads/123-Gary-Wean-Me-and-the-JFK-Hit But I have not made a separate thread on this topic at this forum. Maybe I have ruined this thread over the past few years. If so, you have my apologies. Best, Wade
  6. Hi: I have written plenty that I wish I had a dollar for every time that one of Dennis’s attorneys said, slack-jawed, as they watched judges make Kangaroo Court rulings, “They can’t do that!” The openly fraudulent legal rulings began with BPA Hit Man’s blatantly fraudulent bankruptcy lawsuit, when his other crimes, including being responsible for a woman’s death, proved insufficient in taking Dennis’s company down. Not only was the federal judge in on it, but so was Dennis’s lawyer, who suddenly could not string two legal thoughts together, as he went along with the railroad job. Several months later, Dennis’s company was stolen in one of those “They can’t do that!” moments, as the employees cheered the theft, which was a key awakening moment for me. John Spickard’s company was stolen a couple of weeks earlier, as a way to steal Dennis’s, and Mormon grifters led the effort. Hmmm. Those thefts and fraudulent lawsuits did not have any legal legs to stand on, but in Kangaroo Court, they work just fine, with compliant judges on the take, etc. The judges stole Gary’s gas station and store using similar means to how Dennis’s company was stolen. Gary found a buyer, but the buyer declared bankruptcy while the sale was in escrow. A five-year-old could understand that if the buyer goes bankrupt before the sale is completed, then there is no sale. The deal is off. But not in Ventura County. The gangster judges ruled that Gary had to hand over the deed to the gas station and store, as if the escrow process and sale was complete, so that Gary would give up his gas station for nothing in return, or perhaps becoming a creditor of a bankrupt estate. Gary had put the gas station and store in his wife’s name, and the judges actually issued a warrant for Gary’s wife’s arrest, as she would not hand over the deed to the facility. It was outright theft from Gary and his wife, and I’ll bet dollars to donuts that the bankrupt “buyer” was part of the scheme from the beginning. They have all sorts of tricks up their sleeve like that, of naked theft that they somehow make “legal.” They can simply make it up as they go. As that retired mobster said, the Chicago boys never had it so sweet. Gary and his wife moved to exile in Oregon, where he lived the rest of his life, with a warrant for his wife’s arrest. Gary died destitute, in Oregon, and my guess is that the judges feasted on Gary’s gas station and store. Best, Wade
  7. Hi: Before I get to more of what I learned after meeting Gary, on the JFK hit and other subjects, I think that I am making it clear that what Gary uncovered in his book, of awesome corruption, is not unusual. I make the case in my work that we are all involved, and are all responsible, to one degree or another. Making this somebody else’s problem is a cop-out and a reason why it continues, which may take Earth’s ecosystems and humanity with it. The right and left describe only aspects of the issue, and a comprehensive perspective is the only one with a chance to see the big picture, and the left’s and right’s work can overlap to a great degree. In general, members of the right do not like this section of my site, nor do average Americans. I have watched my peers – white, educated American men – go off the deep end after reading that section. A professor pal, who is now retired, used to read it to his psychology class, and his students reacted like he hit them over the head with a baseball bat, as they sought the nearest bar. I could have made that section more harrowing, and maybe I’ll add a vignette on how Americans get cheap organs. I think that I first read about it in Noam’s Deterring Democracy, in which he reproduced press reports about how American client states in Latin America had organ farms, in which children were raised for their organs, so that American children could have cheap organ transplants (search on “organs” at that link). In 1991, that was an outrageous idea that people might have accused crazed conspiracists of concocting, but now, Americans’ and other rich Westerners’ getting cheap organs from poor nations is normal. It looks like China finally stopped the practice of harvesting organs from prisoners, but it may be continuing. China has not exactly been at the forefront of human rights advocacy, and for years, it was known as the place to go for cheap organs. A decade ago or so, the BBC did an investigation and secretly recorded a Chinese transplant doctor assuring a would-be patient that they harvest their kidneys from members of Falun Gong, an outlawed religious sect, who have very good health practices, so that Falun Gong kidneys would be among the best available. A few years ago, I read of a Western liver transplant patient in China getting prepared for transplant. In that situation, the doctors could not tell if the “donated” liver would be compatible until they could test it just before implantation. The transplant doctors brought in a liver and tested it, but it did not pass the compatibility test. So, some minutes later another liver was brought in, and then another. Something like nine livers were brought in before they found a compatible liver. Prisoners were apparently in a pen, picked one-by-one, and slaughtered for their livers. The Bodies exhibit had to stop using Chinese “donors” when two specimens had bullet holes in the back of their skulls. Those China stories are not about communist iniquity, but how human life is treated where it is cheap. In “free market” India, similar practices take place, and in recent years, it has been making the Western press. I recall only a few years ago, reading of the organ harvesting business in India, and one example was a man answering an ad for a job. At the interview, he was given a drink, he passed out, and when he later awoke, both of his kidneys were gone. People in India and elsewhere actually sell their kidneys for transplant to Westerners playing medical tourist, but drugging somebody and removing both of their kidneys obviously goes far over the line. I actually read that kidney-less man being interviewed, but he can’t have lived for long after that. Maybe I’ll add “cheap organs” to my litany one day. Best, Wade
  8. Hi: While studying the JFK hit, among other subjects, I was getting more healthy doses of how the real world operates, which only confirmed what I saw on my ride with Dennis and what Gary wrote about. I witnessed Kangaroo Court in action, realized that the cops enforce the laws that they feel like enforcing, and I learned that one of the largest trucking companies in the USA had a policy of getting away with killing people; it is cheaper that way, and buying judges in Southern California was easy, as many are for sale, for the right price. Harry Pregerson was not an aberration as much as the logical conclusion of how California’s legal system operates. And, of course, his image was how his highly developed conscience was his most salient characteristic as he sat on the bench, with his big heart. That death camp Nazis had their backgrounds whitewashed as they became American heroes was typical of how it works, and the whitewash lasts at Wikipedia to this day, for example. I was studying the medical racket, as they banned books and murdered doctors, and Kangaroo Court, especially in California, was a regular feature of the racket. As the Rehnquist Court justified with one of its Kangaroo Court rulings, kidnapping alternative practitioners from foreign countries was standard medical racket practice (1, 2). During those years, I discovered that Columbus was really a greedy criminal who initiated the greatest genocide in the human journey, in which perhaps 90% of a hemisphere was killed off in about a century. I discovered that the USA’s other Founding Father was another mass-murdering thief, and that the grammar school that I attended in Ventura was named after the Hitler of California, who was literally sainted a few years ago. While I attended that school, my great nation was inflicting genocides on nations of peasants while maintaining its fascist global empire. In that light, murdering the head of state and covering it up was merely a day at the office, similar to how Roman politics worked. In 1994, I acquired Rodney Stich’s Defrauding America, and no big surprises there. In Defrauding America, Stich chronicled a huge bribe that one of my in-laws took to ram through a public works project, and from what I knew of that relative, it was not surprising. Stich got in way deeper than he thought he ever would, as he originally investigated airliner crashes in which the airlines had their negligence covered up, with government complicity. Stich got taken to the cleaners by the gangster judges in California, and I have to give them creativity points for how they took him out. The JFK-related tidbit in Stich’s book was that the CIA apparently had Hoover’s phone tapped and recorded his and Nelson Rockefeller’s planning the JFK hit, and the participants included Lyndon Johnson, Allen Dulles, and George Bush the First. No big surprises there, and it is easy to imagine where John Tower might have come into it, privy to the retail plan to frame Castro and one of chumps in the dark about what the real plan was. The Congressman who had the tapes soon died in an infamous airliner crash, for another “coincidence.” I have seen speculation and evidence that that airliner might have actually been a sacrifice by the CIA, and I’ll soon write about all of those amazing “coincidental” plane crashes. It was in those years that a close friend was kidnapped and given the underground technology show that you and I will never receive. Free energy, antigravity (or electro-gravity), and related technologies are likely older than I am, and are being sequestered in history’s greatest cover-ups, which makes the JFK hit and cover-up seem like a school-yard prank, and his murder may well have been part of that cover-up. After the judge took Mr. Big Time Attorney hostage, to force Dennis to capitulate, he was rewarded with being promoted to a higher court, and the prosecutor was promoted to a judgeship. Mr. Big Time Attorney begged Dennis to do a plea bargain, with that legal gun held against his head, said that he would do Dennis’s appeal work for free, and assured Dennis that it would take several years for his appeals to work their way through the legal system. Well, Dennis got special treatment every step of the way, and in less than two years, with the USA’s Supreme Court’s taking irregular action (that left another national-level attorney scratching his head, as he never saw them do that before), Dennis had exhausted his appeals and the “justice” system ruled that failing to file a form merited two years behind bars. Dennis tried to withdraw his plea, as the courts reneged on their end of the bargain, to no avail. The railroad job to death began with Ventura County’s corrupt probation department, who I believe prepared the file that was used to intake Dennis into the prison system. As the system regularly does, they simply erased Dennis’s past. His years of college, his honorable discharge from the military (for a murderous job well done), his wife, and even his two daughters were erased as if they never existed, and failing to file a form was falsely called “convicted of fraud” in his intake file. That all added up to Dennis’s security ranking putting him in the medium security shark tank, which was the most dangerous place in California’s prisons, in which the prison authorities don’t even care if the inmates kill each other. That was a series of “mistakes” made by Ventura County, but prison officials were also complicit, when a serial murderer was suddenly transferred to medium security from maximum security, to be Dennis’s bunkmate! I have seen that tactic called “execution by inmate” and other terms, and those “mistakes” would usually not be rectified until it was too late and the targeted inmate had come to an untimely and violent demise. The serial killer knew full well what the prison authorities were trying to use him for. He especially hated them, refused to do their bidding, and Dennis became his best friend in prison. The serial killer declared to the other inmates that Dennis was under his protection, and he ran that yard. Serial killers are at the top of the prison pecking order. When that maneuver backfired on the prison officials, they then framed Dennis as a “snitch.” Dennis barely survived the experience and got “lucky,” with only some fingers broken and teeth knocked out. Dennis’s wife saved his life once again, with her incessant efforts. One of her many letters caught the attention of the official in charge of prison reform in California. Dennis’s being in prison for failing to file a form was so bizarre that the official drove to Dennis’s prison and arrived, unannounced, to interview Dennis. That spooked the prison officials, and Dennis was soon transferred to a minimum security prison, less than a mile from where I lived while attending the university, where he happily served out the rest of his sentence. The Ventura County gangsters planned to have Dennis released on parole to Ventura County, if he survived the prison experience, but Dennis’s wife again pierced the bureaucracy and got his parole transferred to New Jersey, where she and her daughters had lived for years by then. I flew Dennis out of California the day after he was released, as he escaped the clutches of Mr. Deputy and friends. And once again, Dennis treated his experience behind bars as almost a vacation, he largely wrote The Alternative while in prison, and he was raring to chase free energy once again. Dennis soon began raising hell again, and in early 1996, he began barnstorming the USA with free energy tours, and the highest councils on Earth once again convened, to decide what to do about that man who would not die or quit, and who could not be bribed. It was kind of like that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark, in which Indiana Jones’s antagonist expressed his amazement at Indy’s persistence. Maybe one day, I can tell all that I know about those days. The White Hats, Black Hats, sitting president (who is down the food chain a ways), and others avidly watched Dennis in those days, in a kind of awe. After nearly a decade of working on me, Dennis finally got me to go back to work for him. It did not last long, and it was on me: I really did not believe in the businessman’s path to free energy any longer, and had not since the Ventura days. During that stint with Dennis, I nearly went to prison for my trouble, as a highly sophisticated sting operation tried to entrap us, as billions of dollars were dangled before us. Gary, in the meantime, had finally had enough, planned to sell his gas station and store, and retire from earning a living, as he was in his 70s by then. But the gangster judges in Ventura County had another trick in store, which I will write about soon. Best, Wade
  9. Hi: When I left my home town in 1990, to never return, with my life shattered, I began the deep dive into a vast array of material, trying to make sense of what I had lived through. Before I met Gary, I did not know much about the JFK hit, other than my father’s telling me that the Warren Commission was a whitewash. I did not doubt Gary’s testimony on the John Tower conversation; it was the Rosetta Stone of my JFK studies. You could almost say that I assessed the JFK evidence in relation to Gary’s tale. If it aligned with it, I considered it potentially valid. The reality is that Gary’s story lends credence to the main lines of evidence on the JFK hit pursued by the independent researchers, including: CIA connection Mob connection, including Jewish mobsters Texas connection George Bush the First connection Oil industry connection Cuba connection FBI connection MIC connection The idea that the communist connection was a red herring About the only prominent scenario that it precludes is the official one: Oswald was the lone assassin. That said, I approached the issue like a scientist: I looked for any convincing evidence that could preclude Gary’s story (AKA “falsify”). I never found any. Also, over the years, more evidence has come to light that powerfully supported Gary’s story, such as the Operation Northwoods documents. Like so many people, Gary tried to solve the crime, with his hypothesis understandably revolving around Jewish mobsters, and Gary’s Jack Ruby connection is the centerpiece of that dot-connecting, which also assails the official position: that Oswald and Ruby were both lone assassins. The lesson, for me, is that not only was the official investigation a cover-up from the beginning, but that our retail political system is completely illegitimate, as the sitting president could be murdered in broad daylight in front of hundreds of witnesses, and it all got covered up. It looks like it worked so well that assassination as a domestic policy tool was used by the spooks for a generation, up to the Reagan attempt. That said, how did I go about it? I just looked at my JFK bookshelves, and I have more than 50 JFK books, a modest cache compared to those who have spent their lives studying the JFK hit. In those early days, I read Lifton, Groden, Livingstone, Garrison, Summers, Lane, etc., and I have the Warren Report on CD somewhere in my library. I studied the right and left in those days, subscribing to Lies of Our Times (LOOT) and Covert Action Information Bulletin, as well as The Spotlight, and I helped support Sheehan’s Christic Institute, before they were wiped out. I took it all in. Early in my studies, out came Oliver Stone’s JFK in 1991, which spurred a great flurry of activity in subsequent years, such as Clinton’s establishing the ARRB, and it has not died down all that much since then. The 21st century has seen JFK and the Unspeakable, The Devil’s Chessboard, and many other works. It has really been something to navigate that milieu. Ed Herman, Noam’s buddy, was LOOT’s editor, and one issue had a backyard photo of Oswald on its cover, and LOOT argued that the backyard photos were likely faked. The article came out before JFK did, and noted how the mainstream media was attacking JFK before the movie was even finished. For Ed’s part, although he was one of the more brilliant structural analysts, such as with his propaganda model, he was onboard with the idea that Oswald was no lone nut assassin, and he was quite intrigued with Gary’s account of the Tower conversation. In 1992, out came Russell’s The Man Who Knew Too Much. 1993 was a watershed year in the JFK issue, and out came: Peter Dale Scott’s Deep Politics and the Death of JFK Noam’s Rethinking Camelot Gerald Posner’s Case Closed In 1995, out came: Gaeton Fonzi’sThe Last Investigation Michael Collins Piper’sFinal Judgment In 1996, Michael Parenti wrote one of the more sensible essays on the subject, and his conspiracy-phobia essay on the Left is one of my favorites. In 1998, Fetzer and friends joined the fray with Assassination Science. In 1992, wrote my second “book,” which was really a diary of my days with Dennis and Ralph Hovnanian’s Medical Dark Ages quotes. Gary read my “book” twice, and we traded correspondence and phone calls fairly frequently in the 1990s. Piper was a reporter for The Spotlight, I believe that I heard of the book through that avenue, and I believe that Final Judgment is where I read, for the first time, that the mysterious “John” in Gary’s account was actually John Tower. When I read that, many pieces fell into place. Gary once told me that he gave the idea of Final Judgment to Piper, when he visited The Spotlight’s offices. There are plenty of YouTube clips by Piper, and you can hear him discuss his relationship with Gary. On one of the clips, Piper said that Gary took umbrage that his work was not emphasized enough, as if Gary was trying to sell more books, but I doubt it. Gary was trying to bring people to justice, not sell books so much. Gary similarly criticized Summers’s characterization of their discussions of Marilyn Monroe. While Gary was definitely promoting his version of connecting the dots, I always went back to the Tower conversation (and Gary’s encounters with Ruby). How did it fit with the best evidence? Amazingly well. I studied the backyard photo evidence, including Jack White’s work, and he gets credit for it, but he should have stopped there, IMO. He was advised early on to focus on one line of evidence and see where it took him, and he should have stuck to that. I first published my JFK chapters in June 2001, and 9/11 soon happened. As I looked into the 9/11 evidence, I ran across the Operation Northwoods documents, which were declassified by the ARRB, which powerfully corroborated Gary’s story. The Northwoods plan seems like the Pentagon’s version of Hunt’s grand plan. Everybody wanted to cook Castro’s goose in those days, which nearly led to a nuclear holocaust. While navigating that bewildering milieu, with all manner of people selling me their pet theories, I always stayed in close orbit to Gary’s testimony. I have other connections, which I will cover in this series of posts, but Gary’s testimony was always my bedrock, and lending credence to it (and perhaps some other angles, such as Doug Caddy’s testimony of his conversation with Hunt) is going to be my primary contribution to the JFK milieu. I’ll do my own dot-connecting, but not to solve the crime so much, but show how the official investigations were really cover-ups. There is a lot more to write. Best, Wade
  10. Hi: Before I get into my relationship with Gary after the Ventura days and my dive into the JFK evidence, and I keep my finger in that puddle to this day, I want to summarize how Gary and his John Tower conversation fit into my framework. I put Gary in a spectrum of so-called whistleblowers in my circles. A close relative was a whistleblower, a close friend testified in a famous whistleblower lawsuit, and I have been called a whistleblower, although I don’t consider myself an insider. Ralph McGehee was a whistleblower, until the CIA silenced him. Rodney Stich was a whistleblower (he died in 2015), who got taken to the cleaners by the gangster judges in California. Dennis wrote his two most important books while he was behind bars and was slowed down enough to write, while he blew the whistle on the people who ran the institutions where he was incarcerated, who not only threatened his life but repeatedly tried to get him killed by the inmates. Anybody who thinks that any of them just made up stories to sell their books has no idea how the world really works. They were on a battlefield in which their adversaries looked for any reason to silence them, including murdering them. The last thing that they would do is make anything up. Gary constantly waged lawsuits to get the evidence on the record, as the gangsters who ran the system shredded his filings, erased his testimony on the witness stand, and tried to kill him at least once. Gary died destitute, in exile in Oregon, with an arrest warrant for his wife issued in California, as the judicial gangsters stole his gas station and store from him, which I will get to soon. Ralph nearly did not survive his moment of awakening, and devoted the rest of his life to telling the American public what the CIA was really about. For that, he paid holy hell, and engaged in an epic legal battle to publish his book. I put Ralph on the scholarly end of the spectrum, similar to Ed and Noam, as Ralph’s work had to be highly scrupulous to make it past the CIA’s censors, and Ed and Noam’s work was constantly put under the microscope, to find any error that could be seized on, to attack and dismiss their work. I put Stich near their place on the spectrum, on the scholarly/conservative side, but Stich, like Gary, was far from an armchair scholar like Noam and Ed, or somebody like Ralph, quietly writing his memoirs. Stich got in way further than he would have ever imagined. Investigating airplane crashes was only the beginning, and his adventures took him into the dark world of CIA contract agents and the like, in which his informants and others in his circle ended up in prison or were murdered (and, as usual, made to look like something else, such as Paul Wilcher’s death). I guess that you could call Brian O a whistleblower, as his first book raised the curtain on the astronaut culture like no book since has, and Brian became such a NASA gadfly that they tried defrocking him repeatedly, and I had quite an adventure in getting his NASA bio published. Brian also died in exile, driven from his home nation, with his life shortened because of his adventures. When Dennis played promoter, he tended to gild the lily, and I was not happy with it and let him know it. He had no need to exaggerate; the straight truth was plenty spectacular enough, without resorting to exaggerating (and the game he played is partly why I am not with him anymore). That said, his books were conservatively written and well documented, and I put a lot of that documentation into my writings (here and here, for instance). Dennis played at a level far higher than Ralph, Gary, Stich, or Brian did, in which being offered a billion dollars to go away was simply part of the terrain. It could be tempting to put Gary on the more conspiratorial fringe of whistleblowers, but unlike almost all other so-called whistleblowers on the JFK issue, Gary claimed intimate knowledge that came in the direct aftermath, from some pretty amazing sources (Murphy, Decker, and Tower are not exactly fringe names), and Gary constantly waged lawsuits to get evidence on the record, and he tried to do so with the JFK evidence, even serving papers on Tower, who turned ashen-faced when that happened. In that light, not only is Gary’s Tower revelation relatively tame, it is not a big part of his work or mine, but rather more of an interesting sidelight. Even if I did not know Gary, people doing what he did do not make up events. That would give their adversaries the opening they would need to permanently silence them. I know that Gary would not have made up the Tower conversation, and that he recalled it to the best of his ability, when he wrote about it a decade later, late in his book, which he drafted between customers at his gas station and store. Best, Wade
  11. Hi Krishna: We will see what I add to my big essay. Maybe a little more on those subjects, but feeding the peasants is not a thrust of my work (the exchange game), but making them richer than Bill Gates, and only free energy can do that. Tverberg’s latest is the short version of my big essay, at least until free energy comes into the picture. OK, it is anecdote time. I periodically contact people who might be interested in free energy. They are few and far between to begin with, but Tverberg is a member of a milieu of financial bloggers who at least have some understanding of how our world really works, and they rightfully place the financial economy as a superficial exchange mechanism, not important in of itself, which is a sophisticated understanding that few of the financially trained ever learn. After years of reading those energy bloggers, I thought that somebody might be home. Wrong again. A few years ago, after my big essay was published, I contacted several of those leading energy bloggers, including one who actually writes that free energy is almost here. The only one that I heard back from was Tverberg, and while it was nice getting any reply at all, her response was to direct me to the Post Carbon Institute, where Richard Heinberg holds court. I had to laugh. This is how inbred the field is today. It is an improvement in ways over thinking that money means anything, but those people usually become Level 3s. Best, Wade
  12. Hi: The day that Dennis was released from jail, I headed over to Mr. Professor’s house straight from work. When I got there, one of Dennis’s salesmen who disappeared after Dennis was arrested was there. If you get The Alternative, you will see quite a few affidavits made by people soon after April 1, 1989, when Dennis left the jail, such as Dennis’s assistant. Those people win some points with me, but those who helped before Dennis was released from jail were few and far between. Most cowered and hid, helped steal the business after Dennis was arrested, stole documents for Mr. Deputy and friends, or stole anything not nailed down on their way out the door. But I’ll say this for the Ventura employees: I don’t recall any of them testifying for the prosecution. They only testified for the defense, and mostly at the misconduct hearing. Dennis did not know that I was his secret benefactor until months afterward (I had very good reasons for doing it secretly), when he needed more money for his defense and Mr. Professor finally admitted who the benefactor was, and Dennis was “upset and pleased and disappointed and proud.” When I met Dennis that evening, he acted like he had just gotten back from vacation. He showed off his flat belly, as he lost about 80 pounds in jail. The jailers starved the inmates, as money not spent on food went into a corrupt pocket. Dennis acted like he had just spent more than nine months at a county-hosted fat farm, and he was more enthused than ever to go make free energy happen. You really had to see it to believe it. Soon afterward, I told Dennis that I was done with trying to make free energy happen with him, but he kept trying to recruit me back, and in 1996, he finally did again, but it did not last long and I nearly went to prison for my trouble. I no longer believed in the businessman’s path to free energy and still don’t. I don’t know if Dennis ever met Gary, but I am guessing that they did, but Dennis did not know the pivotal part that Gary played in Dennis’s release. When Dennis was in jail after the preliminary hearing and that “maverick” attorney quit, Dennis and his wife tried to find an attorney. Mob attorney Melvin Belli wanted $250,000 up front as his retainer, which was a little beyond Dennis’s means. Dennis is a right-wing literalist Christian, which reflects his migrant farmworker roots, and Dennis’s efforts from Ventura onward had a large contingent of right-wing Christians in the ranks, even dominant at times. The first alternative political information that I saw came through Dennis’s dealers, and some was in that “seditious literature” folder that was seized in the raid. When we sued for our civil rights violations after the raid, it was with the assistance of a Constitutionalist group out of Montana. Their communal house was set on fire and bulldozed while they were at church one Sunday, and some members of their organization had been murdered for crimes such as homeschooling their children. As Gary said, what was happening to us was not unusual in the USA, and I developed a lot of respect for Constitutionalists. Their entire purpose was to limit the powers of government. Dennis sought a Constitutionalist attorney while he was in jail, and one name repeatedly came up as the best in the USA. He had moved to San Diego just before Dennis escaped jail, and still lives there, 30 years later, and he is still the foremost Constitutionalist attorney in the USA. As I later discovered, he did not become a Constitutionalist attorney because he believed in the cause so much; he saw an opportunity to be dominant in a niche in the legal profession, which few attorneys practiced in. When Dennis was released from jail, he was put under a kind of house arrest, in which he had to sign in at the jail daily and had to ask the judge’s permission to leave Ventura. He did not get any kind of time-served credit for that odd treatment, for one of the many legal irregularities in his case. But soon after being released from jail, he got the judge’s permission to visit that Constitutionalist attorney in San Diego, whom I call Mr. Big Time Attorney in my writings. The year before, Mr. Big Time Attorney had one of his cases ruled on in the USA’s Supreme Court, in a landmark case that became a precedent in Dennis’s case. The Rehnquist Supreme Court became legendary for its Kangaroo Court rulings. Rehnquist himself was a notable racist, arguing against desegregation and preventing Mexican-Americans from voting, and probably his court’s most notable ruling was its intervention in the 2000 presidential election, as it handed the presidency to George Bush the Second. My Harvard Law in-law told me that if you read their ruling and got past the legalistic mumbo jumbo, their ruling nakedly said that they were giving the presidency to Bush “because we want to.” For the record, the last time that I voted in a presidential election was 2000, but I voted for Ralph Nader, who was the only candidate that I saw worth voting for in my adulthood, and the way he was treated permanently soured me on the electoral process in the USA (as it did Uncle Ed), which is a completely rigged game. Would Gore have been better than Bush? I wonder, but it would have likely not been much better, if at all. We met with Mr. Environment at the White House, and he backed off of any involvement, but I was invited to the Bush White House a decade later. Dennis was treated better by Republican administrations than by Democratic ones, believe it or not. One of the Rehnquist Court’s more infamous rulings was making kidnapping people from foreign nations legal, in what is called extraordinary rendition today, which not even Hitler got away with. As Noam said, no nation comes close to the American disregard for international law, which is the worst since the days of the Third Reich. We simply make it up as we go, so watching the courts make it up as they went along in Dennis’s case was fairly typical behavior. The Kangaroo Court ruling in Mr. Big Time Attorney’s case went like this: although Mr. Big Time Attorney was able to get IRS personnel convicted of felonies during their pursuit of his client, the Rehnquist Court ruled that even if the prosecutors were convicted of felonies for their behavior while prosecuting people, that their crimes did not taint the state’s case. Thurgood Marshall notably dissented from the majority position. So, even though Mr. Big Time Attorney fried IRS personnel for their crimes, the Rehnquist Court ruled that they could just assign new IRS personnel to the case and keep going, and Mr. Big Time Attorney’s client still had to face the charges, which he eventually beat. When Dennis met with Mr. Big Time Attorney, he brought along his documentary evidence of what was happening in Ventura. Mr. Big Time Attorney’s mouth began to water. Dennis had affidavits, and even reports from the deputies themselves, documenting crimes that were exactly what Mr. Big Time Attorney had fried IRS personnel with. Mr. Big Time Attorney said that he would take Dennis’s case, not so much to get him off the hook, which he said would be easy, but to sue Ventura County’s officials for violating Dennis’s civil rights. Instead of the $250K that Belli and others demanded, Mr. Big Time Attorney asked for a token amount to get started, such as $10K, which was almost exactly what was left in my legal fund (Dennis’s’ bail money came from my fund). Mr. Big Time Attorney later told me that what initially attracted him to Dennis’s case was his astronomical bail. In a funny anecdote, just before a hearing (I think it was just before I testified at the misconduct hearing), I gave Mr. Big Time Attorney a copy of Gary’s book, and he placed it on the table in front of him, in plain view of the judge and Ms. Prosecutor, and he wore a little grin as the placed Gary’s book there. I have written about it plenty before so will not belabor it, but in the year after taking Dennis’s case, Mr. Big Time Attorney got the education of his career. He got put in his place. Whoever was behind Dennis’s persecution made the IRS look like schoolyard bullies. Mr. Big Time Attorney had never seen the gutter maneuvers that Ventura County’s officials engaged in daily, and he filed a lawsuit against them in federal court, gratis, when he finally became disgusted enough. Then the federal court put him in his place, as he was threatened with disbarment. On the Internet, you can easily find rulings on Dennis’s case in the higher courts, such as this one, and reading their rulings is enlightening. Just like that Kangaroo Court ruling in the Rehnquist Court on Mr. Big Time Attorney’s case, the higher courts ruled that it did not matter if the officials committed any crimes against Dennis, as they were protected by immunity and statute of limitations. So, if they committed crimes and fraudulently jailed their target, and put him in solitary confinement and other judicial outrages, the statute of limitations could expire while their victim was incarcerated, even while they were in the midst of a prosecutorial misconduct hearing. Just lock up somebody long enough, and all of your crimes against your victim are protected by statute of limitations and prosecutorial immunity. Neat system, and it reminds me of Martin Luther King Jr.’s statement, that we should not forget that everything that Hitler did was legal. I staggered out of Ventura in 1990 (and never returned), the same year that Dennis was rooked into a plea bargain, after the judge took Mr. Big Time Attorney hostage, to force Dennis to capitulate (in Seattle, they took Dennis’s customers hostage). The courts naturally violated their end of the deal and Dennis was sent to prison two years later, and the officials repeatedly tried to get Dennis killed by the inmates. Dennis got “lucky” and only had some fingers broken and teeth knocked out. When Dennis was finally released from prison, I flew him out of California and had his plane stop in Columbus, where I lived at the time. Dennis acted like he did when he got out of jail: prison was almost a vacation for him, and he was rested up and ready to go back after free energy harder than ever. Within two years, he was barnstorming the USA, putting on his free energy shows (I was amazed at the first one that I saw), and he attracted a great deal of attention from many parties, including the White Hats and Black Hats, as well as the Justice Department. The sitting president, Bill Clinton, was highly aware of Dennis, but American presidents are down the food chain a ways. I may never be able to publicly relate all of the attention that Dennis’s efforts received back then, but let’s just say that the highest councils on Earth deliberated on the “problem” that Dennis presented. In those years after the Ventura experience and in the circles that I began running around in, one close pal was given an underground technology show, the kind that you and I will never receive. Dennis was not chasing unicorns; the technologies that he pursued were very real, but have been sequestered from public awareness in history’s greatest cover-up, which is conjoined with the UFO/ET cover-up. Doug Caddy’s testimony of what E. Howard Hunt told him about why JFK was murdered was no surprise to me. What my friend saw was likely mostly developed by reverse-engineering captured ET craft. Several years later, I saw Steven Greer’s Disclosure Project witnesses describing the same technologies that my friend saw, in a show likely given by the disenchanted faction of Earth’s ruling cabal. I could write for months on these subjects, but I want to get back to Gary and the JFK hit. After I left Ventura in 1990, with my life in ruins, I began the studies that became my public writings. The JFK hit was a small part of a wide range of topics that I studied, in what I later learned was how “comprehensivists” do it. As I have written, Gary’s book only had one chapter on the JFK hit, and Gary did not reveal John Tower’s identity until after he died, in the 1996 edition of his book. When I learned that it was Tower, a whole bunch of dots connected, and I have seen Gary’s account called the basis for the master theory of JFK’s death, which brings together key aspects of the assassination literature, such as the CIA, military intelligence, FBI, Texas, oilmen, George Bush the First, and Cuba connections. Gary tried connecting the dots with his Jack Ruby and Jewish mobster connections, which don’t come up in the Tower conversation. As a cop and investigator, I can understand why Gary tried to solve the crime, but my goal over the next dozen years, as I studied the JFK hit evidence, was to see how the evidence lined up with the Tower conversation, and I knew that Gary was recounting the conversation to the best of his ability. I never saw any convincing evidence contradict it, and over the years, more evidence came to light that supported Gary’s tale, and the Operation Northwoods documents in particular. On that note, I will begin my survey of the JFK literature, and how my relationship with Gary went until he died. Best, Wade
  13. Hi Krishna: You mean this section? I don’t plan on updating that essay soon, but I may put something here, or maybe somewhere around here. I plan some significant revisions to my Third Epoch chapter, and writing more about the thin energy surplus of agrarian societies, and how that made them unstable, is planned. Of course, when invaders commandeer agrarian economies in mercantile/imperial efforts, it is a catastrophe for the conquered, and I’ll write some on that subject. Over the long years of study, I finally came to understand what self-determination really means and how costly it was when people were prevented from pursuing it, as they lived in various forms of bondage. I know where your heart is, and writing a little more about India is appropriate for my work, but probably more in the big essay. That section in my Lies essay where the rape of India is covered is more about the contrast between what I was taught and what my adult studies revealed. English royalty is more popular in the USA than in the UK, for another one of those diaspora effects. A bit of trivia on Late Victorian Holocausts; I was studying it during my epic meeting with Brian in Sacramento in August 2001. I had the book with me on that trip. I think that I first read of the rape of India in Noam’s Year 501, around the same time that I read American Holocaust, which was my big wake-up call on what the European “settling” of the Americas was really like. Best, Wade
  14. Hi: While it is true that Ventura County has the reputation as one of the most corrupt counties in the USA, I really don’t want to pick on them too much, as the corruption that we encountered there we found all over the USA, in the highest places, such as the USA’s Supreme Court. I wish I had a dollar for every time that one of Dennis’s attorneys said “They can’t do that!” Dennis almost invariably saw Kangaroo Court rulings on his cases, from the lowest to highest levels in the USA’s legal system, as his attorneys, some with national reputations, had their jaws hanging open or scratched their heads, saying that they never saw that before. However, I’ll say this... When I was the janitor in that office building, I was very friendly with one of the managing partners of the law firm that owned the building. One day, I heard him on the phone, saying that Ventura was “in the sticks” compared to LA. When Dennis and I hit town in 1987, I called that law partner, saying that we were in town, and I had a question about setting up our business there, and he told me, “Be careful!” In retrospect, I wonder what he was referring to. That bush league move by that attorney, to fill his shelves with pretty books destined for the trash can, was just a preview of my future dealings with Ventura County’s legal system. The raid, led by a man who just weeks previously said that we were doing nothing illegal, a raid in which they stole our technical materials, was a mere introduction to their brand of corruption. When Dennis was arrested with his million dollar bail and Mr. Deputy was promoted to be in charge of the jail weeks later, and given an award for completing the most difficult investigation in department history, I attended the first hearing and saw Ms. Prosecutor for the first time. She was a graduate of that local mill, her participation in Dennis’s case earned her a judgeship, and when she took the floor at Dennis’s first hearing, in less than a minute, she uttered a stream of lies that left me stunned, as she argued for the propriety of Dennis’s million dollar bail. Soon after Dennis was arrested, that “maverick” attorney took her aside and sought some kind of plea bargain, and her memorable reply was that if Dennis pled guilty to all charges, she promised that Dennis would not get the death penalty. It was her attempt at being funny, and showed the level of professionalism that we were dealing with. Out in the sticks, indeed. If we had lied down and played dead, as that “maverick” attorney did, as he signed on for the railroad job, they would have made it happen, and Dennis would have gone to prison and likely have been murdered in there, which nearly happened anyway. But we never gave up, especially Dennis. He filed more than 100 legal motions while he was in jail. As Gary wrote in his book, those gangsters who run the legal system, especially the judges, are cowards. In the end, dark pathers are cowards. They seize the reins of governance, rigging the system, because they don’t have the courage to make an honest living. They beat the system by becoming the system, and they all gorged at the trough. When I studied the global human rights situation, and found it to be as corrupt as everything else, with the so-called human rights organizations adopting the imperial framework, the word that I saw plenty was “impunity,” as death squad regimes could commit genocide while promotions were handed all around. Torturing people to death was just a day at the office in our client regimes, and the media always covered for them. In that light, what happened to us was trivial, but Mr. Deputy and friends operated with the same impunity. When you are used to doing whatever you want, with not only no negative consequences, but promotions and greased palms, it becomes a hard habit to break and ended up costing Mr. Deputy and friends, because we did not give up. After the Kangaroo Court preliminary hearing ended, when I had my radicalizing moment, it was no more Mr. Nice Guy act from Mr. Deputy. Dennis had been the model prisoner for the previous six months. In fact, wherever he was, he turned the jail from a place of fear into a dormitory atmosphere, and for years afterward, Mr. Professor would receive calls from Dennis’s former inmates, who called to let Dennis know that they had been treading the straight and narrow ever since, calling to thank the man who changed their lives. But after the preliminary hearing was over, they threw Dennis into solitary confinement for trying to throw a Christmas party for his inmates, and when Dennis got out a month later, they began writing up Dennis for an imaginary rules infraction every day. They were doing their best to portray Dennis as an unruly prisoner, to reduce his chances of ever being able to make his astronomical bail. Ms. Prosecutor also filed a motion that argued that even if Dennis somehow posted bail, that he still would not be released, as Ms. Prosecutor cited the precedent case of a heroin dealer who sold drugs to make bail. It was regularly nauseating to read the legal “logic” in her filings. She later accused me of perjury for my truthful testimony, and if you ever read The Alternative, you will see that my participation in the entire affair was far more spectacular than I put in my public writings. One day, I may be able to tell the whole story, which would make this story far more sensational, but several more people have to die before I can, and I might not outlive them. Dennis’s books, however, fill in most of the blanks. When Mr. Professor mortgaged his home and got my legal fund going, the first thing that they did was hire an attorney. The attorney was a college professor who had never worked in a courtroom before, but at least he was an attorney, so that Dennis could have a little privacy. The attorney-client privilege is one of the cornerstones of the American legal system, and Dennis was entitled to private mail going between him and his attorney. Until that time, all of Dennis’s mail was read and all of his phone calls recorded (as well as the rest of us – they tapped all of our phones and recorded all of our conversations). But in their culture of impunity, they opened Dennis’s legal mail from his attorney. Mr. Deputy was making sure that Dennis had no private contact at all, but they stepped over the line. In his brief tenure as Dennis’s attorney, he witnessed Ms. Prosecutor telling outrageous lies, and he was stunned. The attorney told Dennis, in shocked disbelief, that Ms. Prosecutor had lied to him. Dennis replied that he was now seeing how our vaunted legal system really operated, not the college version. Before the preliminary hearing finished, Mr. Deputy was kind of on the legal hook, which was why he made faces at me, etc., to do what he could to make sure that the case was remanded to trial. If the case never made it past the preliminary hearing, it would be a black mark on his record and he might have been more legally vulnerable for all of the crimes that he and his henchmen had already committed. But after the hearing was over, Mr. Deputy felt that he had carte blanche to act with impunity. However, another factor weighed in, post-preliminary-hearing-wise. Until the preliminary hearing, several judges presided over the case. But when a case gets remanded to Superior Court, then one judge is assigned to the case, and that judge had a problem: the prosecutorial crimes and legal irregularities in Dennis’s case were legion, and Mr. Deputy and friends were not letting up. The judge had a legal tarbaby on his hands, and the Kangaroo Court behaviors and other crimes would end up on his judicial record one day, and he had aspirations of serving on a higher court. He could not openly play Kangaroo Court judge, not when we did not lie down and take it, but he had to present a semblance of legal decorum. When Mr. Deputy and friends were caught opening Dennis’s legal mail, the judge reprimanded them for it. Dennis won a minor motion, to get two boxes to hold all of the discovery information (most of which had been stolen from us), instead of the one that the jail’s rules allowed, and the deputy who really ran the jail (Mr. Deputy’s position was purely ceremonial) openly threatened Dennis’s life after Dennis won the motion. The tide began slowly turning in the six weeks after my seemingly futile gesture, and then one day, the judge asked Dennis during a hearing why he had not petitioned to have his “possibly excessive bail” reduced. Dennis had already made several bail appeals, all summarily rejected (except for the first one, in which the judge lowered the bail from $1 million to a paltry $750,000), and he replied that he was planning on making one last bail appeal just before the trial, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. Then the judge made his own motion to review Dennis’s bail. Something was afoot, and Dennis did not need to be told twice. On the jailhouse phone, Dennis told his wife to get affidavits from the people whom Mr. Deputy threatened during his “investigation,” and to get them to him through his attorney. The affidavits were soon assembled and on their way to Dennis, but Mr. Deputy could not help himself and had to take a peek, and the legal mail had been opened once again when it got to Dennis, and Dennis had his entire cellblock witness the opened legal mail. A few days later the bail hearing was held. I took the day off from work to be a character witness, and the hearing was short, sweet, and hard to believe. Mr. Deputy arrived with his own attorney, looking very humble. No more feces-eating grin. The judge began the hearing by noting that Mr. Deputy’s attorney had something to say before the hearing, and allowed him to speak. Mr. Deputy’s attorney profusely apologized for Dennis’s legal mail being opened, swore that it was simply a clerical error, and offered to have the deputy who handled the mail testify that he inadvertently opened Dennis’s legal mail and that nobody else saw its contents (wink, nudge). The judge thanked the attorney for the confession and he said that he was confident that it would not happen again. The judge then noted that the prosecution’s “victims” seemed to have paid about $20,000 to our company, so the judge ruled that Dennis be released on his own recognizance, with a $20,000 cash restitution deposit in case he was convicted of the fraud charges (he wasn’t), and he then adjourned the hearing. I no longer cared about Mr. Deputy, and did not look at his reaction, but Mr. Professor did. He said that Mr. Deputy turned white as a sheet and looked like he had swallowed his shoe. It was no longer fun for Mr. Deputy, who later hid in his house for months to avoid the witness stand during the prosecutorial misconduct hearing, and that story is coming. The next day, April Fools’ Day, as fate would have it, Dennis walked out of jail, after enjoying Mr. Deputy’s hospitality for more than nine months. The week of Dennis’s release, Easter was celebrated, and instead of getting solitary confinement that time, Dennis threw an Easter celebration for his inmates, replete with an Easter egg hunt, if you can believe it. I have never met or heard of another like Dennis. From then on, I was no longer worried about Dennis. I knew how resourceful he was, and with the ability to defend himself, and no longer hogtied in Mr. Deputy’s custody, I did not see how the prosecution’s case had a chance, and that tale is coming. They still nearly had Dennis murdered over failing to file a form. The worst was over for me, and I then began digging out of my financial abyss and picking up the pieces of my shattered life, which had more shattering to go, but the next year was relatively pleasant for me, even with what was happening at my day job, as an unholy government/media alliance tried to put my company out of business. So, let’s just say that nothing in Gary’s book could shock me, and I never had any doubts that Gary related the John Tower conversation to the best of his recollection, as he wrote about it nearly a decade after it happened. Before this series of posts is over, I will summarize my tour of the JFK hit evidence. Best, Wade
  15. Hi: During that month between when I met Gary and made my decision, I worked for the largest privately owned medical lab in the USA, just as the government and their media henchmen tried to wipe the lab out. It was very similar to what I had seen during my days with Dennis, and would see more of in subsequent years. The government lies and the media broadcasts it, as they work on behalf of their private-interest patrons, to help wipe out the competition. I believe that it was during that month when the Los Angeles Times published an “investigative” article on Dennis. It took about an hour to read it, and I clearly recall that when I finally finished it, I said to myself, “They can simply make it up as they go.” Calling it propaganda is being polite. It was a libelous series of lies and half-truths that turned reality upside down. I was permanently cured of the idea that the media had any concern with the truth, and when I heard of Uncle Ed’s magazine the next year, I was so ready for its message. Gary had dissuaded me from entertaining the idea that anybody in the USA would help; even allegedly “liberal” organizations such as the ACLU. Even “progressive” and “radical” organizations get captured in various ways, as their initial thrust gets watered down into irrelevance, as they hack at branches if they hack at all. As I began to realize back in my days on Boston, so-called environmental groups are usually worse than worthless regarding the big issues, and treat the global solution to all of their concerns like the enemy. But also, Gary’s advice, to become my own lawyer and take them on in their court, did not seem very promising. I had already seen Kangaroo Court in action, and it was their turf. I did not see how that was going to help Dennis much, although maybe it could have. I needed to do something with more direct benefit for Dennis instead of suing for my civil rights violations, which I suppose could have landed me in jail, too, but I was not thinking in that way. By February 1989, I had long since been radicalized. 1988 was just the exclamation point on the real world lessons that I began to learn upon college graduation and my days in LA. 1986 in Seattle was the beginning of my big lessons, Boston was when my learning curve began steepening, and 1988 was when I learned my life’s most important lessons in no uncertain terms. Back then, Dennis and I did not even know that there was a free energy field. Neither of us had even heard of Nikola Tesla, in our ignorance. We had stumbled into the biggest issue on Earth, which dwarfed events such as the JFK hit, but we did not begin to realize it until much later. We had no idea that we had been made the friendly buyout offer in Boston, and I did not know about the billion dollar bribe until 1996, when I read it in Dennis’s book, The Alternative. If I had known of those issues at the time, would it have changed my decision? I don’t know, but I doubt it. Nearly a decade later, I discussed my decision with Dennis, Alison, and Mr. Professor, and I said that who knows why they really do anything? The cowardliness and criminality of those around me were no longer surprising. After those days in Ventura, nothing about human behavior could ever surprise me again. I had been awakened. As I have written, by February 1989, I no longer cared about our free energy efforts. Dennis is the greatest human being that I have ever met or heard of, and you have to see him in action to believe it. I just wanted to save him from spending the rest of his life behind bars. I did not know it at the time, but Dennis was writing about how the authorities would have him murdered by an inmate, which they nearly accomplished. I saw how Kangaroo Court operated, and it was my radicalizing moment. There was no looking back to my days of innocence after that. As Uncle Ed said, reconstructing the past is not easy, but my eidetic memory makes the task easier. My thinking was that the primary body of the charges related to an obscure civil law that nobody had ever heard about, but I incredibly had, and Dennis’s “crime” under those laws was failing to file a form, which was actually my job. I figured that life-in-prison for failing to file a form was going to be a bit of a stretch, even for Ventura County’s gangsters. They had successfully chased off all expert witnesses who could testify to the reality of the world’s best heating system, with lies and threats. A fraud conviction would enable them to go for life-in-prison, and they could only do that if they prevented any expert witnesses from testifying and they successfully prevented test data from being submitted as evidence, of which there was a mountain, from test labs, customers, a Fortune 500 company, etc. How I saw it, the only way that they could make their life-in-prison attempt stick was to have Dennis hogtied in jail, unable to defend himself, while they paraded their dupes, “experts,” and extortionists on the witness stand. That was where I saw my opportunity to make a dent, even though I thought that my chances were realistically nil. There was likely no end to their evil machinations. They simply made it up as they went along, and they had the guns, jail, media, and whatever else they needed to make their charade stick, and their palms had likely been generously greased. In early February 1989, I approached Mr. Professor. I asked him to mortgage his house and lend me $50,000 for a defense fund for Dennis. After the farce of a preliminary hearing was over, that “maverick” attorney demanded big money to continue with the case and resigned from the engagement. Dennis was defending himself, as his own attorney. My plan was to use the legal fund to get Dennis an attorney and bring in expert witnesses for the trial, who did not live locally and were not subject to threats made by the local gangsters. I did not know at the time that they had already been at work, chasing off a test lab from out-of-state with their lies. I knew what I was doing: I was sacrificing my life. $50,000 was twice my annual salary before I met Dennis, and I knew that if Mr. Professor loaned me the money, I would be paying it back (at 10% interest) over many years, and that I was taking a path of never being a parent, never owning my own home, never buying a new car, and the like. It largely turned out that way. I have never owned my home, was never a parent, and until 2010, I had never bought myself a car. I finally did, and they will have to pry it out of my dead cold hands one day. I figured that my gesture would be an exercise in futility, with about a 1% chance of making a dent in the railroad job. A week later, I met with Mr. Professor and his wife, at his office, and you could see the jail from his office window. They agreed to lend me the money, and we had a good cry afterward. It is not easy to relate the evil of those days, and what blew me away was not their evil acts, not really. The big lesson for me was how nearly everybody else cowered, performed criminal acts once Dennis was in a headlock from the Big Boys, or piled on and helped. A decade later, as I studied the Holocaust and hardly a hero was to be found, it was no surprise to me. Personal integrity is indeed the scarcest commodity on Earth. There was another good guy in those days, before we miraculously sprang Dennis from jail: the president of the company that was going to manufacture the heat pumps that Dennis was trying to carpet Seattle with. His company was wiped out by the Rockefellers’ bank, just as Dennis found a finance company that made his plan feasible. I did not connect those dots back then, but in subsequent years, I think that the Rockefellers’ wiping out Dennis’s manufacturer, just as Dennis obtained financing, was no coincidence. I also think that the Mormon grifters, who stole Dennis’s company, with my boss’s help, may have been acting on behalf of the GCs, although I will never be able to prove it. But the same dynamics happened in Ventura two years later, so it is a little too much coincidence, especially when I later heard that the Mormon financial empire was not only the biggest investor in Washington’s electric companies, but they were the leading organization in the global cabal that keeps the lid on free energy and related technologies. But I did not know any of that when I sacrificed my life. If I had, I wonder if it would have impacted my decision. I doubt it, but I’ll never know for sure. I knew that I was on special assignment, ever since that voice told me to move to Seattle, and I had to live by the light of the truth, no matter what. I could tell that my “friends” were orchestrating events, and that if I had to sacrifice my life to give Dennis at least a snowball’s chance, then I had to. I don’t want to hear from that voice again, not for any more suicide missions, but I can’t regret what I did. Six weeks after Mr. Professor and his wife agreed to lend me the money, Dennis was released from jail, in the biggest miracle that I ever witnessed, which we knew was an act of divine intervention. The forces of darkness would not prevail on that day, and Gary’s advice was a critical ingredient in my decision. The JFK hit was the furthest thing from my mind in those days. Best, Wade
  16. Hi: I need to portray the background of my meeting with Gary, which was the only time that we met in the flesh. The farce of a preliminary hearing ended in December 1988, and Mr. Deputy, who was promoted to be in charge of the jail soon after his career-making “investigation” and arrest of Dennis, was trying his best to break Dennis for trial and ensure that he was never free again. At the jail, the jailers regularly threw people down stairwells, and three prisoners were found hanging in their cells during the previous year. Dennis later told me that the barbarities of the jailers were of a kind that he had not seen in many years. Throwing Dennis into solitary confinement for trying to throw a Christmas party for his inmates was typical of their malice. All technical witnesses had been chased off, and Mr. Researcher was in hiding at the time, driven there by Mr. Deputy’s threats. Fischer had disappeared, as had all other technical witnesses, leaving me as the defense’s star witness, and they got me off the witness stand as soon as possible, as the judge led the corrupt festivities. We later discovered that they had even lied to a test lab about us, frightening them off. In Kangaroo Court, with all technical witnesses threatened and chased off, and all test data declared inadmissible, they had successfully portrayed the world’s best heating system as a scam, and the prosecution paraded an “expert” on the stand who had never actually seen one of the systems operating, but who categorically stated that a COP of seven was “impossible.” At the preliminary hearing, the best testimony on the equipment’s performance ironically came from prosecution witnesses, such as an engineer who tried to extort money from us the previous year, who stupidly forgot that he tested the equipment and that his test results directly contradicted his parroting of his textbooks on the witness stand. Another witness for the prosecution was a dealer who set up a competing network to ours, was pursuing free energy with our technology, and who testified that one of his systems got a COP of nine. That was the nature of the “victims” to our scam that the prosecution paraded onto the witness stand. Other than Mr. Professor and Dennis’s wife, I was about the only person supporting Dennis in Ventura, other than a few brave souls who testified, which included a minister who was a scientist and salesman, a black dealer in Ohio (one of the few black people in our organization), and maybe one or two others. Everybody else was gone, either chased off with threats, cowering in fear, or they joined up with the prosecution, committed crimes, and piled on. My own mother, who worked for the local paper, never even asked for my side of the story, saved up her employer’s libelous newspaper articles about us, made a scrapbook out of them, and took it on tour to my friends, family, and investors, while telling the story of her son the criminal. It did not look like Dennis had a prayer, in the rigged proceedings. It was in that environment that I contacted Gary. By mid-January 1989, I had overcome my black thoughts of December 1988, during my life’s worst month, in which going bankrupt was the least of my problems. Dennis’s wife and children had lived with Mr. Professor since the previous summer. I visited her one evening after work, asked what more I could do, and she gave me Gary’s book. I began reading it, and did not get far into it before I recognized the names of fathers of children that I grew up with, and many other names that I knew. It was too traumatic to completely read at the time, and I put it aside. I don’t recall if I even read the chapter on the John Tower conversation back then, but I may have. Compared to what else was happening, the JFK hit was a trivial matter and I never discussed it with Gary. After reading as much of Gary’s book as I could stand, I got his phone number from Dennis’s wife and called one day, on a weekend, as I recall. Gary had been fighting those gangsters for nearly 20 years by that time, and I figured that if anybody knew what to do, it would be Gary. When I called, Gary’s wife answered and I announced that I wanted to talk with Gary. She initially treated me very brusquely, saying that she could not trust anybody who called out of the blue. I then explained that I was Dennis’s partner, and she got real friendly, fast, and said that Gary was not home, but that he would contact me. Gary did far better than that. I soon heard from Gary, who said that he would meet me that evening, at a donut shop across the street from the County Center. I could see the jail from that donut shop. When we met, the first thing that I said was that I would do anything that I could to save Dennis, and asked that if I went to Washington D.C., could I find somebody to intervene? For the next two-to-three hours, Gary gave me the benefit of his experience. Gary said that what was happening to us was standard operating procedure in the USA, as the kind of official criminality that we encountered was normal, in all jurisdictions. Gary said that, furthermore, they were all in the same club together, and that nobody in the USA would intervene. He said that the powers that be would send Dennis to prison for a good, long time, and make sure that he never even thought about his business efforts again. For all that I had already been through, it was a very enlightening evening. Gary said that the only reason why he was still alive was that he never broke the law, no matter how galling, as it would have given them a reason to murder him. Gary had filed numerous lawsuits, and he said that the clerks at the court would simply put his lawsuits and motions through the shredder, and they would have no record of his case or filing, even when he had the filing receipt in hand. I saw that happen with Dennis, too, as his filings would be “lost” by the court. Gary told me how they even erased his testimony from the court transcript, as he testified. He told me of being on the witness stand, and when he made a sensational bit of testimony, the court reporter made a hand gesture to the judge, who then paused the proceedings as the reporter scrolled through her tape and removed Gary’s damning testimony, which was subsequently not in the court transcript. Gary said that he eventually began wearing a tape recorder, hidden in his jacket, so that he could catch them erasing his testimony. Gary also told me how they stacked juries there, and related the situation where the fire department broke into his store and fabricated an extension-cord “violation,” and when the jury was selected, it was stacked with the relatives of firemen. When Gary saw that, he knew that he had no chance, and they put him on an onerous probation. Gary ran for sheriff the next year, and the county quickly passed a law that made Gary too old to run for office! Gary had met me on his way home from a meeting in Saticoy, as he tried to help organize the residents to resist a land grab that the Ventura County gangsters were orchestrating with the courts. Gary said that it was nearly an impossible task, as everybody flew off in their self-serving directions and failed to put up a united front to resist the play to steal their land. With what I had seen in the previous three years with Dennis, that was no surprise. At the end of our sobering conversation, with all avenues seemingly closed off, I asked if there was really anything that I could do. I had already mentioned our civil rights lawsuits that we filed after the raid, which were dismissed just before Dennis was arrested, and Gary said that I could refile my lawsuit and put the heat on them in their own court. He wanted to see my lawsuit, we drove from the donut shop to my nearby house, and I lent him my lawsuit filing, which I never saw again. That was in the days when I did not have ready access to a photocopier. A month later, I lent Dennis’s wife that LA Times “investigative” article on Dennis, after she asked me for it, which I also never saw again. I learned to not lend out stuff like that, even if it was to luminaries like them. Gary’s sobering advice was the best advice that I could have received. It prevented me from wasting my time, camping on a Senator’s doorstep. I digested Gary’s advice for the next month before deciding on my course of action, which miraculously sprang Dennis from jail, in the biggest miracle that I ever witnessed, which Dennis and I knew was an act of divine intervention. That Gary went out of his way, mere hours after my plea for help, and gave me his critical advice, put him forever in my pantheon. The JFK hit was a trivial issue, given what I was facing, and I never discussed the JFK hit with Gary. It was just not that important in our subsequent relationship, even though I spent the next dozen years poking into the JFK hit evidence, to see how it lined up with Gary’s story. And, really, what was there to discuss? Gary had given a great deal of detail on the conversation in his book, and I knew that Gary would not make up something like that. With the milieu that we navigated, such behavior would be suicidal, not to mention far beneath our level of integrity. Making up stories was the furthest thing from our minds. We were dealing with the brutal truths of our world, and that was plenty to have on our plates. Lying and criminality was the province of our assailants, who could make it up as they went along. Because they worked for the evil-minded people who ran the show, they were immune to any sort of earthly justice, which I first saw with the hit man in Seattle and have seen many times since. It is just how it works today on our planet. Best, Wade
  17. Hi: I think that I have published enough anecdotes to establish that Gary’s path and mine had plenty of overlaps before we met. I’ll briefly recap my last stint in Ventura that led to our fateful meeting. While Gary’s journey is the closest thing to the plot of LA Confidential that I know of, Dennis’s journey makes Indiana Jones look like Walter Mitty. From his migrant farmer roots to his Vietnam days to his first awakening moment to his hobnobbing with the Eastern Oligarchy to surviving mobs hit attempts over his idealistic businesses to nearly dying from medical negligence to getting involved with the world’s best heating system and using his ingenious methods to mount the greatest attempt to bring alternative energy to the American marketplace, his journey before I met him is preposterous enough, but once I met him, it became surreal and those days comprised my life’s steepest learning curve. That voice in my head led me to Dennis, to begin our bizarre journey together. He could not get rid of me, and I chased him out to Boston, where I soon became his partner and we began pursuing free energy. I brought in my first professional mentor to make a technical assessment, and he not only thought that we had a chance, he proposed marrying his revolutionary engine with Dennis’s heat pump panels to produce free energy. He persuaded Dennis to move our operation to Ventura, in a secret deal that I did not know about until reading it in Dennis’s book nearly a decade later. I had twice left Southern California, intending to never return, and there we were, moving to Ventura. I could feel the heavy hand of my “friends” on my shoulder once again. Our Boston days were a failed effort, but were kind of a blessed calm before the storm. Within a couple of months after hitting Ventura, Dennis invented a program that worked, and money began pouring in from across the USA. We went from a few volunteers to 40 employees in a couple of months. I have never seen anything like it. The rocket ship was taking off. Our first encounters with the Global Controllers were in Boston, as we received the anonymous calls in the night to keep up the good work from the so-called White Hats, to the friendly buyout offer from the Black Hats. They may well have been behind some of what happened in Seattle, such as the activities of the electric company hit man and the theft of Dennis’s company, but their hand was more evident in Boston and became blatant in Ventura. As in Seattle, the official attacks were incredibly underhanded. In both instances, Dennis sought to work with the authorities before they attacked. In Seattle, they said that there were only a couple minor issues, and Dennis bent over backward to work with them, but they tried to wipe out his company while he was out of town, seeking a friendlier business environment to work in, at the same time that the hit man struck, in what I have called and “inside-outside job,” which they also did in Ventura. In Ventura, Dennis’s assistant had a conversation with the deputy who led the raid against us a few weeks later, asking the deputy if we were doing anything wrong, and that deputy assured us that all was well. Little did I know it at the time, but when those cars sped into our parking lot in a cloud of dust, as the raid began, it was the beginning of my life’s worst year. I learned my lifetime’s greatest lessons in that year, and the chief one, which was driven home in no uncertain terms, was that personal integrity is the world’s scarcest commodity. I resisted that lesson every step of the way, until I could deny it no longer. There were some beacons in the darkness, such as Mr. Professor, who was the true hero of what happened in Ventura, but they were few and far between. My life’s radicalizing moment was on the witness stand, in Kangaroo Court, as the prosecution made faces at me as I testified. And that “maverick” attorney lied down and played dead, going along with the railroad job. He literally sat next to Mr. Deputy as he made faces at me all day, and that “maverick” never raised a note of protest. That behavior would not have lasted ten seconds in a fifth grade classroom, but in Kangaroo Court, the judge, prosecutor, and even that “maverick” attorney pointedly ignored Mr. Deputy’s imbecilic behavior, which was intended to intimidate me as I testified. Dennis’s wife later told me that he did it throughout all of the defense witness testimony, as if it was a Stalinist show trial. The next month, December 1988, was my life’s blackest month, as visions of murder danced in my head, which was my life’s lowest moment. By January, I had overcome those black thoughts and decided that I would do whatever I could to save Dennis (I no longer cared about our free energy efforts), who was in solitary confinement for trying to throw a Christmas party for his inmates, and he was writing that he did not expect to live to see this side of the bars again. And that was when I met Gary, after reading some of his book. For all that I had been through, Gary’s book was a shock to read, naming names that I knew, and it was too traumatic at the time for me to read all of it. I read it cover-to-cover twice since then, and have periodically referred to it, such as now, while I write what is likely my last extensive treatment of Gary’s work and its relationship to mine. Before I get to our fateful meeting, I’ll cover one last parallel of his journey to ours, and a curious aspect of how dark pathers operate. The month before Dennis was arrested with his astronomical bail, a CIA man, who said that he represented “European interests,” offered Dennis $1 billion or so to fold up our operation. That was the first time that Dennis knew that what he called “The Big Boys” were involved, and Dennis’s counteroffer stunned the CIA man. In Gary’s book, there was a tactic that he called “The Kiss of Death” or something similar. Gary saw a “Kiss of Death” moment between one of the gangster judges and a man who soon met an untimely demise, and it goes like this… When gangsters decide to kill their targets, they can fete their victim, with a party and over-the-top well-wishing, as if their target was a long-lost son, but they soon murder him. You can see an event like that, when Joe Pesci’s character met his demise, in Goodfellas. I confess that I don’t quite know what is going on in their heads. Was it to give their target one last good moment in life? Was it to deflect any future suspicion? Was it an act of sadism? Was it a way to help lure their victim to his demise, as it was in the case of Pesci’s character? I don’t know, and it could be a combination of such motivations, depending on the situation, but I have known my fair share of sociopaths and psychopaths, especially when they were sicced on us (1, 2, 3), and they can be very friendly, just as they sink their daggers in. A couple of weeks after their meeting in Chicago, that CIA man called Dennis, said he would be in town, and offered to take Dennis out to dinner. He was a high-ranking CIA man, a perfectly coifed Ivy-League type with the gold cufflinks, witty and urbane, the kind that Allen Dulles hired. During their meal, the CIA man never mentioned the offer from the previous meeting, as he feted Dennis. Was that a “Kiss of Death” meeting? I suspect that it was, and I also suspect that during his trip to California, the CIA man arranged for Dennis’s upcoming treatment. Although Dennis refused the billion dollar bribe, ten million dollars, or one percent of the bribe offered to Dennis, would have handsomely greased enough palms to make what happened next a certainty. In the GCs’ manual on organized suppression, which has been compiled over the past century, the problem that Dennis presented, and how he was dealt with, likely comprises a chapter or two, and there is probably a footnote or two on me. So, on to my fateful meeting with Gary, which I will write about in detail like I have not done before. Best, Wade
  18. Hi Paul: Gary’s book is over 600 pages. Before this series of posts is over, I will tell a brief account of how the man who sold Gary’s book after he died took me to task for even putting up that photo of Gary. He jealously protected his rights to selling Gary’s book. Unlike how that rude Wikipedia admin characterized me, I am not a careless plagiarist or copyright thief. My work is the closest thing to a shrine to Gary’s memory on the Internet, and while that guy does not appear to be selling Gary’s book today, he is about my age, lives in Texas, and ran for Congress in 2016. If I actually did something like scan Gary’s book and made it available, I could see him taking legal action against me. Sigh. Best, Wade
  19. Hi: When I have seen Gary called names and accused of making up his John Tower conversation, I knew that the writers had no conception of Gary’s situation or of the situations of people like Gary when they write such books. Dennis wrote his first book from an incarceration that he did not expect to survive. Dennis’s jailers threatened him while he wrote his first book, and he even smuggled out chapters of it. Dennis wrote his second book in prison, the prison officials repeatedly tried to get him murdered by his inmates, and they nearly succeeded. Ralph McGehee wrote his book after his early retirement and engaged in an epic legal battle with the CIA to publish it, in which the CIA went to the absurd extent of trying to reclassify declassified documents that Ralph used in his book. The CIA tried to silence him after it was published, and even bought up his books to remove them from circulation. I got attacked everywhere that I appeared on the Internet, even attacked in forums that I was invited into, and I most recently had my work erased at Wikipedia, under the flimsiest of pretexts. Gary and Dennis had to survive murder attempts from the authorities during their travails, and Ralph suffered bodily injury, amongst threats and other harassments. You don’t travel that kind of territory and make up stories, not when your adversaries are looking for reasons to silence you and can resort to murder. It is highly naïve, at best, to think that Gary wrote his book to make a lot of money or become famous. People like Gary, Dennis, Ralph, and I write because our stories need to be told, as a public service, not to get rich. I have never asked for a dime of compensation and passed up millions of dollars in earnings to perform my studies and writing. We all sacrificed our lives to do what we did. A similar argument can be made for Noam and Ed. They were highly successful academics when they began their political writing careers, and anybody who thinks that they did it to make a lot of money or become famous has no idea what motivates people like that. They all answered the insistent call of their consciences. When Brian O’Leary was an Ivy League professor after his astronaut days, protesting the genocide in Southeast Asia and being a NASA gadfly, his books were published by major publishing houses and his op eds ran in the New York Times. After his mystical awakening, he gradually left the Establishment’s fold, and as he began exploring the fringes, he lost his access to the mainstream. The more that he pursued the truth, the more ostracized he became. He nearly lost his life, courtesy of the American military, in an attack that shortened his life, and spent his life’s last years in exile in South America, driven from his home nation by the gangsters who run it. The Establishment tried to erase Brian more than once, Brian was eventually reduced to self-publishing, which bankrupted him, and he was further reduced to having people like me help edit his final book. Recently, while I had my writings on Ed’s life and career erased at Wikipedia by a very rude admin, he also erased part of Brian’s scientific career, as well as the last 20 years of Brian’s life, which Brian considered his life’s most important years. Mark Twain and George Orwell had similar suppression of their work. After Gary was railroaded out of his career, he fought back and began filing lawsuits. As Gary’s wife once told me, Gary was a fighter, not a lover. Gary’s first lawsuit was a libel suit, and Audie Murphy set up Gary with Murphy’s own attorney. Immediately after taking the case, Murphy’s attorney got a phone call from Ventura County and then resigned from Gary’s case. Murphy died soon thereafter in a plane crash that Gary did not think was accidental. Gary soon discovered that no lawyer in California would represent him. When Gary and I had our fateful meeting in January 1989, Gary told me that it is easy to threaten lawyers with disbarment for simply taking a case, and Gary had been forced into being his own attorney for many years by that time. Every time that he hired an attorney, that attorney would soon get a phone call that threatened disbarment, and then the attorney would resign. After I sacrificed my life to give Dennis at least a snowball’s chance, my legal fund hired the USA’s foremost Constitutionalist attorney, who remains the USA’s leading Constitutionalist attorney to this day, who specializes in taking on police brutality and other corrupt official acts. The year before he took Dennis’s case, he destroyed the careers of IRS personnel, in a case that was ruled on by the USA’s Supreme Court, which became a direct precedent for Dennis’s case. That attorney was threatened with disbarment for bringing his case against Ventura County’s officials, in the same court where Harry Pregerson presided. That attorney thought that mopping up the floor of the USA’s Supreme Court with IRS personnel put him in the big time, and to a degree, it did, but whoever was behind Dennis’s persecution made the IRS look like choir boys. They treated that big time attorney like something unpleasant that they stepped in and unceremoniously wiped from the bottom of their shoes. I recently looked at that attorney’s list of cases that he promotes himself with, and nowhere is Dennis’s case mentioned, a high-profile client who spent two years behind bars, and was nearly murdered in there, for failing to file a form. Another example of somebody writing because of the insistent call of his conscience is FAA investigator Rodney Stich, who got in far deeper than he ever imagined. Unlike the rest of us, Stich began his whistleblower career rich and thought that he was safe from legal attacks. But the gangsters who run California’s legal system got creativity points in his case. They declared his decades-old divorce invalid and used his unscrupulous ex-wife to take him down with their blatantly fraudulent rulings. California has, by far, the most corrupt legal system in the USA, and that is saying something. My wife’s doctor fled California, to stay out of prison for healing people of cancer with alternative means, and he was in good company. My company got to bear the brunt of the medical racket in California, too, which was happening when I met Gary. Even if I did not know Gary, I know that people like him are not going to make up events out of the thin air. Gary knew that if he did that, then they would quickly have taken him out. During our meeting, across the street from the jail where Dennis sat in solitary confinement for daring to throw a Christmas party for his inmates, as if Ventura County was some cartoonish parody of evil, Gary said that the only thing keeping him alive was never breaking the law, no matter how galling it was, because the gangsters in Ventura County would have then had an excuse to murder him, which they were accomplished at performing. To think that in the midst of that, Gary would fabricate the Tower conversation, which is a minor part of his book (which was published a little over a year before I met Gary), is to have no idea of Gary’s situation or how the world really works. Best, Wade
  20. Hi Paul: One of my favorite sayings is that none of us are as stupid as what we can collectively achieve. All the time, in my life, I look around me and say to myself, “And we call it civilization.” Humans are social creatures, and our sociality has always been an adaptive response to our economic situation, which has always been based on our energy surplus. This goes back to the beginnings of social animals. That is why thinking that we can create some new sociality and go make free energy happen is nonsensical, but naïve newcomers invariably advocate it. That is why all mass movement attempts have failed. Sociality is self-serving, at its root, and self-serving attempts are effortlessly defeated, and usually defeat themselves. The new sociality will be a result, not a cause, of free energy. My effort has nothing to do with sociality, but with combined positive intention. To Krishna’s latest, I’ll put on my list of things to do how to get from disbelief to belief to knowledge. You can’t get there by books, surfing the Internet, in the lecture hall, or even hanging out with me. You have to get out of your easy chair and seek experience, which is the only teacher. My fellow travelers and I only got to where we went by experience. Fortunately, I have not had to survive murder attempts, like Dennis, Brian, and Greer did. The choir needs to come to at least a place of belief, if they can’t get to knowledge. This is all part of the conundrum. To briefly revisit the Uncle Ed situation, the editors at Wikipedia are not only dishonest, but staggeringly incompetent. When the propaganda model section was added to Ed’s bio, the edit named only four filters but properly said there were five. The propaganda model article shows the five, but Ed’s bio left out flak and the enforcers. Instead of adding flak, the most recent editor decided to change the number to four filters. Incredible. My efforts at the Wiki family have not been a total bust. It looks like they are not going to erase my contributions to the CRV article, including, for the first time at Wikipedia, Noam and Ed’s framework of classifying bloodbaths, and I at least got to expose the fraudulence of the most active editor of Ed’s article, whom Wikipedia’s neo-con co-founder has openly defended, which explains plenty about Wikipedia. With all of the libel directed Ed’s way at Wikipedia, I most wanted to at least have his voice heard, and I have been able to do that at his Wikiquote page, which is all my work so far. That will likely have to do, until a professional biographer takes on Ed’s life, as I expect somebody to do with Brian one day, especially if free energy happens. Best, Wade
  21. Hi: Growing up in Ventura, close to LA, meant that I regularly encountered celebrities. I never treated them like one and left them alone, which I do to this day. The only autograph that I have I didn’t even collect. A commercial was shot in our neighborhood when I was about ten, I was sick in bed that day, and my brother brought home an autograph from this actor, who was in that commercial. Oak View, where Gary lived, is on the way to Ojai from Ventura. My family often went there to various parks while I grew up, especially Camp Comfort. While I was a golden boy from birth, my younger brother was the opposite, getting into trouble from infancy, and by the end of grade school, my parents were desperately trying to turn him around, which included sending him one summer to a military academy. They seriously considered moving to Ojai, to a house on a few acres of grapefruit trees, as a way to help my brother. Ojai is kind of a New Age elite enclave today, and it has been that way for a long time. For his seventh grade year, they sent my brother to Ojai Valley School, which was a complete failure, as my brother got his worst grades ever, even failing one class, and he is more intelligent than I am. He soon graduated to criminal activity. At Ojai Valley School, my brother attended with the children of Hollywood celebrities, such as Christian Brando and one of the Fonda progeny, as I recall. My brother and Christian were fellow screw-ups, and that year, Marlon tried to be the dutiful parent. My brother and Christian were on the school soccer team, and Marlon came to a match and played soccer with them. I acted while in high school, and my acting pals tried to make it in Hollywood. None of them made it, although one became a minor playwright who still writes plays performed in Ventura County. When I lived in LA after college, half of my friends were either in entertainment, tried to break in, or had been in, as actors, writers, musicians, directors, producers, and the like. Some made it. One relative worked on the special effects for Disney’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and this man grew up two doors away from my home, and I babysat him when he was young. It was like if you grew up in a fishing village, you would likely become a fisherman. In the hinterland of LA, going into entertainment was just a normal career path. For everybody who becomes a star, thousands toil in anonymity. I sometimes helped support friends who tried to make it in Hollywood, including my roommate when I met Dennis, and some pals went into the seedier side of LA and worked in porn for a while, including a woman whom I sat at the same table with in a high school class, who was in a porn magazine a couple of years after graduation, which created a sensation among my friends. One close childhood friend attended UCLA and encountered celebrities daily, even serving them at his various jobs. When I lived with Fred, one of his washed out Hollywood actor friends slept on our living room couch for a few weeks and spent his days getting drunk at those same establishments where those crapped-out attorneys did, on Main Street. His claim to fame was acting with Streisand in one of her “Funny” movies. While he lived with us, be got arrested for drunk driving, and the next day, he drove to one of those bars to drown his sorrows, calling Fred from the bar. Fred could hardly believe it. The man was going to drive to our place, drunk, after being jailed for drunk driving the day before. Fred himself never shook the bottle and Vegas lifestyle, which led to his early death. Gary’s days in LA dealt with the Hollywood scene daily, and it was a deeply dysfunctional culture. One Hollywood friend was at a party with Billy Joel and his wife at the time, Christy Brinkley. While Christie was in the front of the house, talking with the others, Billy was in a back bedroom, doing cocaine, and Christie was visibly distressed. Joel soon moved from LA back home to New York, saying that the LA lifestyle was wrecking his life. In many ways, LA was a very unhealthy place to live, but it was pretty big time, professionally. Downtown LA was the biggest business district west of the Mississippi and the heart of California’s economy, which is one of the world’s largest and where my career began. Ventura was kind of out in the sticks, and not nearly as professional. While LA could be incredibly corrupt, such as Harry Pregerson’s tenure, it at least had a professional veneer. In Ventura, that veneer could be thin indeed, I saw previews of that before I left home, and I’ll finish with one last anecdote. During my last year at home, I was the janitor of an office building built on the land of that former walnut farm, which I salvaged the lumber from in my first job. The tenants were primarily lawyers, accountants, and investment advisors. I was in my early business studies, and I eagerly read the Wall Street Journal and other business periodicals as I threw them out. I got the job through a childhood friend, whose father was the managing partner of the law firm that owned the building. One new attorney had just come from the Ventura County DA’s office. The DA’s office hired graduates from the local one-building law school, which was really a mill to pump out people who could pass the bar exam, but whose professional grooming was nil. My wife’s brother went to the same junior college that I did, and ran for the same coach as I did. He attended Harvard Law with the Obamas (Barack was the ultimate political animal, while nobody liked Michelle much), and told my wife that the DA’s office in Ventura preferred graduates of that one-building law school. That new lawyer at the law firm was a Berkeley graduate, however, so presumably had a better education. He eventually became a prominent judge in Nevada. I just looked up his résumé, and he completely left out his Ventura days, which I can understand. Lawyers are notoriously late adopters of technology, and that law firm had a substantial law library. Law libraries had to be continually updated, and some reference materials had binders in which the pages could be replaced, but often the entire book had to be replaced, and I threw out law books almost daily, which could be impressive-looking tomes. I was friendly with all of the attorneys and staff, and that new attorney worked late in his office sometimes. His office was spartan, with a largely empty bookcase on the wall across from his desk, which sat behind the chairs where his clients sat. One day, that attorney asked me to fill the shelves of his empty bookcase with any impressive-looking law books that I was hrowing away. So, over the next several weeks, I did. I don’t recall thinking at time how bush league that it was, as I had no frame of reference, but I have to laugh at that today. It was like in The Great Gatsby, where books were just for show. As I look back, that was an early preview and warning of what happened when my free energy efforts landed me back in my home town, where my life was wrecked. Best, Wade
  22. Hi: I am taking a little break from Gary’s tale this morning. I have read several books on Operation Paperclip and how the USA hired death camp Nazis. I have read too much about the Nazis. Two books that I recently read were Linda Hunt’s classic treatment and Annie Jacobsen’s, which was better than I thought it would be. I am always wary about books blurbed by The Wall Street Journal. I first wrote about Paperclip a generation ago, regarding how the Gehlen Org was hired lock, stock, and barrel by the CIA, which nearly led to World War III. Gehlen was paid $1 million per year by the USA in his heyday, which was far better than he did under Hitler. The USA has long had a habit of taking the worst aspects of enemy regimes and then using them for the same and even worse activities, such as at Abu Ghraib. What became Camp King was a Nazi interrogation center for captured Allied soldiers. After the war, Gehlen ran it, and torturing prisoners to death under American management was just a day at the office there. Of course, the Wikipedia article is a heavily sanitized account that does not even mention those activities. Where death camp Nazis are concerned, Wikipedia is hagiographic at times, and always covers the topic lightly, if at all, such as in its Paperclip article. What Wikipedia has almost completely failed to do was deal with the American incentive to bring in death camp Nazis because of their usefulness for the Cold War, which those Nazis were instrumental in inflaming. While war crimes investigators were lining up death camp Nazis, who performed medical experiments in the death camps, for Nuremberg trials, the Paperclip side of the house was doing all that it could to undermine those very prosecutions, and even when convicted, death camp Nazis soon had their sentences commuted and were even brought into the USA and put to work. The most useful ones were never even prosecuted, such as Hubertus Strughold, who lied his ass off but was shielded by his American handlers. He was able to help get his buddy Siegfried Ruff acquitted. Ruff supervised the experiments at Dachau, in which hundreds of prisoners died. The USA then hired Ruff, and his article at Wikipedia is hagiographic. At least one death camp Nazi had the situation mentioned, in that he was saved from the gallows by the USA because they found him useful, but that is about it for those people. I also found myself rereading other books in my library, such as Undue Risk and In the Name of Science, and what richly came across was that Nazi medical ethics were quite compatible with American medical ethics, and human experiments on unwitting, deceived, and involuntary subjects became an American pastime, particularly after hiring all of those Nazis. It is debatable how much Nazi ethics influenced American ethics, but there is no doubt that the Nazis who came to the USA began performing the same experiments that they used on death camp prisoners on American soldiers and others. The soldiers were only semi-voluntary, many had their health ruined and even died, and mass experiments on the unwitting American population were common. What also has come across very strongly during my studies over the past 30 years is that what has come to public awareness is only the tip of the iceberg. The most damning documents are still classified or were destroyed long ago, and the Nazis were very aware of the nature of their crimes, as their documents were full of euphemisms such as “special handling” and “final solution.” The medical experiments on humans wrote about the subjects as “pigs,” and a “large pig” meant a Catholic priest. After the Nazi disaster at Stalingrad, thinking Germans could see how the war would turn out, and they began covering up their crimes, with destroyed evidence and documents, going back to early 1943. What has come to light are only the tattered remnants, and the human experiments at Strughold’s facility only came to light recently, almost by accident, as some documents escaped destruction. And those are not just tales of a bygone era. Fluoride is added to my water supply to this day, which the Nazis used to dumb down their prisoners. In the USA, it is used on the general population, with attendant propaganda that would make Goebbels blush. In fact, the fluoridation propaganda campaign was designed by none other than the father of public relations, whose work Goebbels admired and used. Not that writing Gary’s story and my relationship to him is very fun, either, but I think that I am through with this stint of reading about death camp Nazis that the USA hired. When I write that essay on Uncle Ed and me, I will mention the Nazi situation, in which death camp Nazis get hagiography at Wikipedia, while Ed’s article is libelous, and my contributions were erased under the flimsiest of pretexts, so that the public could not even see what I wrote. So far, those vastly disparate treatments reflect Ed and Noam’s propaganda model. In a way, Wikipedia is performing as expected, as an establishment mouthpiece, as death camp Nazis get hagiography and saints such as Ed get libeled. Best, Wade
  23. Hi Joe: As I have written, Gary’s career and life is the closest thing to the plot of LA Confidential that I know of. One of my college chums became the mayor of Bishop, California. After his Vietnam days, he became a ranger in the Sierras, and was with me on that trip where we were nearly hit by lightning. He later said that that was the hairiest trip that he ever took, and only years later did I realize how close I came to getting us killed, and not from the lightning, but navigating the snowfields below the pass, where one slip meant a grim death after a several hundred foot fall. Ah, such youthful ignorance! Bishop is the “metropolis” of Owens Valley, which has been drained dry to provide LA’s water. The theme of Chinatown is how LA got those water rights. Bishop is legally prevented from ever growing, as all the land around it is owned by various governments, and LA’s water rights have the highest priority. My friend told me that when LA was buying up the rights to Owens Valley’s water, that people who got in the way in Bishop met untimely demises, in one-car “accidents” and the like. The theme of Chinatown was all too real. Unlike in Hollywood movies, Gary’s story did not have a happy ending, with his vindication and the “bad guys” brought to justice. He died destitute, in exile, in Oregon, with an arrest warrant for his wife, as the Ventura County gangsters stole his gas station and store from him, and that story will come before I finish this string. Another college chum became Ventura’s mayor, and that is another story. Best, Wade
  24. Hi: As I thumbed through Gary’s crumbling book in recent days, something pretty funny happened. I wrote about Gary’s friendship with Richard Heaton, who died in a plane crash a few weeks after Lyman Smith and his wife were murdered. Their friendship began when Gary was a patrol cop in Ventura in the 1950s, who regularly found a drunken Heaton “crapped out” in a doorway on Main Street in Ventura, early on Sunday mornings. Instead of arresting him for being drunk in public, Gary would shepherd Heaton home to his grateful wife. That was how Gary’s friendship began with Heaton. Once Heaton was appointed as a judge in 1956, he never took another drink. When Lyman Smith and his wife were murdered, the DA was under pressure to convict somebody, anybody, for the crime and, about two years after Smith’s murder, they prosecuted a man whose company was bought by Smith. There simply was no case, and they tried to frame the man for the murders, but it didn’t work, partly because of the tenacious defense attorney. When the DA’s case fell apart (they never established a motive, among other issues), the DA had to settle for convicting the man in the local newspaper, saying that his guilt was certain but unprovable. About fifteen years after those events, I published the first version of what became my site today, before I hired a professional editor. Between 1996 and 2002, I had a near-continual presence on the Internet with my site (I did not have one between April 1997 and late 1998, as I recall), with my email address on my site, and I took on all comers. I have quite a few pals today that I met through having my email address on my site back then, before I finally had to take it down. But in those early days of Internet innocence, a man contacted me a couple of years before I published my account of Gary and the JFK hit. He was a retired policeman who worked in Ventura when Gary did. He actually witnessed one of the events that Gary wrote about in his book, an outrageous event outside of a courtroom, and the man corroborated Gary’s account. That retired policeman actually came to visit me in 1999, and here is the funny part. That attorney for the defendant in the Lyman Smith murder trial was known in Ventura as the “maverick” attorney who took on the Ventura County establishment, being a gadfly who defended pariahs. He once sued Ventura County’s officials for illegally seizing his gun collection, and he won the case. That maverick attorney became Dennis’s first attorney after he was arrested. That retired policeman did not come to me because of my Ventura days, but because of my other writings. He just happened to have also worked in Ventura during his career. When we corresponded, that maverick defense attorney came up, and that retired policeman told me a story about him. As he patrolled Main Street early one Sunday morning, around the 1960s, he found that maverick attorney “crapped out” in a doorway, drunken from his Saturday night binge, and like Gary, he gently shepherded that attorney to his home. It was almost the exact same story that Gary wrote about with Heaton. It seems that Ventura’s Main Street was where lawyers ended up, crapped out, after a night drinking. Best, Wade
  25. Thanks Michael: Gary mentioned Dragna a few times in his book, but Gary made the point that while the Italian mobsters in California made the news, Jewish mobsters such as Pregerson really had the power. The Jewish mob had a vested interest in keeping the public’s focus on the Italian mobsters, as a misdirection, so that Jewish mobsters could fly under the radar. Cohen was prominent, obviously, but Gary watched Cohen get pummeled by Jack O’Hara over a debt. Omertá prevented Cohen from involving the authorities, but O’Hara later got one right between the eyes, courtesy of Cohen. Those kinds of spectacular activities were bad for business. Cohen was eventually imprisoned and nearly murdered in there, as he was considered disposable by his Jewish mobster brethren. High-profile gangsters did not live too long, as a rule. Much better to operate in the shadows. Best, Wade
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