CHAPTER 16 You Can Read The Letters But Not The Signs

I am hoping dear reader, that you will allow me some observations about the assasination that do not necessarily have to be accepted as reality. Please take these with a grain of salt, and remember - the thing that is hovering above you on the other side of the bedcovers, just ate your brother. You heard every bite.

I believe that Maryilyn Monroe right in the middle of Madison Square Garden, warned JFK in a most direct and unmistakable way that something was about to happen. We however (and probably he as well) believing that this sexpot was only good for one thing, chose to not listen. She sang "Happy Birthday" to him in a way that deserves at least the kind of attention and critique normally paid to an operatic performance. Listen to the performance when you have the opportunity. To a trained ear it was most definately a prediction in song; and yet we practiced rock critics who have analyzed the performances of The Beatles and Led Zepplin literally backwards and forwards have refused to pay attention to her artistic presentation. "Happy Birthday" in the context it was sung by Marilyn meant quite precisely a time of re-birth, a new life, regeneration in the cosmic format of time and reincarnation, a blooming flower, joy, light, darkness, all the wonders of life - preceded by death. Got it? BIRTH day. She knew something, probably quite a lot. Then there are those who only heard the sexy innuendo of being in one's birthday suit. (sigh).

The great thing about being a DJ is that nearly every new song represents some kind of current folk music. There is a story being told by all music of all times. You either HEAR it or you don't. Most folks and DJ's don't...... Not until much later. For example; "Jumping Jack Flash" by the Rolling Stones, a quick salute some of us think, to a favorite intoxicant, NO2/laughing gas. A street drug of the times and still a popular party drug, but follow the lyrics; "I was born in a cross-fire hurricane". Could that refer to the Dealy Plaza triangulation cross-fire theory? Try this; Jumping Jack Flash - Jack (Jack Ruby) makes a Flash (gunshot) from the grassy knoll. At least that's what the Lady In Red claims, then Jack (flash) Ruby appears again in the basement of the Dallas PD to pull the greatest cover shot ever. Flash. Pleased to meet you - hope you guess my name.

While this form of mental masturbation can become tedious, consider the trite and redundant cults of "Christian" cliche' artists who years later, caused a real stir about the playing backwards of lyrics from the Beatles and Led Zepplin tunes. In this pointless forest (thank you Harry Nillson), you hear what you want to hear and you see what you want to see. Poetically and mystically, the lyrics to Jumping Jack Flash can even interpret the death and release of the spirit of JFK that day. It can also poetically define should you choose to hear it, the underground assembly call for a new and powerful political movement. The lyrics to "Sympathy for the Devil" a few years later announced its size, scope and presence.

There are so many valid questions that have been raised, so many little clues that keep popping up in history, so many things we could not (or chose to not) see and interpret then. There are so many now. We were all far too close to the forest to be able to describe the individual trees. And here's the fun part - we are all getting older and further from the forest while the trees themselves are becoming skeletal. Secrecy matters less and less because after all if you are going to die soon what's the difference if you pass on quietly; or while screaming, are devoured whole by the same monster that ate your brother? And if it is at the cost of truth - which death IS the more dignified? Soon I predict, many aging 60's figures will speak out. When they do, we will be made aware of a conspiracy larger than our collective imaginations can conceive. One that even includes obscure deaths of enormously talented rock stars like Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin.

I cannot draw you a picture of God, or the Devil. I can only show you the way to where it is said, they abide. Go there if you dare. Tell Elvis I said hello. So, friend, behold our nation, our world and our situation: Seventy percent and more of all wealth is owned and controlled by less than 6% of the population. For the most part, we have no idea who the wealthy really are. The United States contains only about 5% of the world's population and yet we are brimming in wealth compared to most third world countries.

It is estimated that in Old Testament times, there may have been only about a million people on the planet. There are over 5 BILLION people in today's world and that number is growing steadily. What do these numbers mean? A full cup of salt contains a MILLION grains of salt. It takes a bathtub to contain a billion grains. Figure on six to eight bathtubs full of salt to equal the population of the earth.

With nearly 300 million Americans actively breathing free air, we are individually outnumbered in this world at a ratio of at least 20 to 1. In a world view that places you and I within the 10% of the most wealthy persons in the world. We are the outer fringes of that wealthy inner circle I have been describing. Of that 20 other persons in the world whom you are not, probably at least three would be very willing to kill one or more of the other 20 for the food you threw away today. How so very willing would they be to make you their victim in exchange for what you own - or even what you owe? Twenty to one can also be described as the odds against our survival as individuals and as a nation. The only protection we have, is that we are here and they are there.

We then, are an American citadel of strength and power........ or we are a small, juicy sweet meat to the Eyes of Night - depending on your point of view, appetite and the country (or countries) you live in. Within the ever-tightening circles of the wealthy American and international elite must exist a few thousand individuals who have inherited through fate or fanaticism, this vast boundary of responsibility and posession. Posession in this instance being what the world traditionally and stupidly still regards as synonymous with power. I am suggesting here that these few thousand super-wealthy individuals have become so wedded to their cause of power and control; so attuned to each other that the differences in their personalities and their need to communicate in conventional terms barely even exists. I am talking about telepathy here. Given that - can you help but regard them all as individual parts of a larger whole? There are those who would say the same is true of Angels.

These persons I believe, are without conscience as we know it and function I believe, at an incredibly high level of communication. They are dedicated to carrying out an ancient plan that has taken eons to develop and implement. It is a complete plan that exists only in one mind and spirit that is essentially eternal and yet is inhabited and is shared by, many persons. Please note that I have specifically omitted the use of the word "soul" in this description. These individuals then, are the hands and fingers of something that transcends death, has its own "collective memory", is much larger, more secret and far more malevolent than anything we as humans, have the capacity to comprehend. I can offer the conjecture that this represents an entity. Possibly emerging at the moment Christ died on the cross - being the sum of all sin, past present and future; the convergence of all forces united against the will of God, the other end of the cosmic see-saw. An entity constantly in search of an advantage that will somehow change its destiny... It - and they who are a part of It - quite probably suffer the pains of pure mental clarity coupled with the weariness of extreme age. A condition of sinister existance that is without rest. Something like a black hole in space. Hell as we might imagine it. It is my contention that somewhere near the center of that tightening circle of power and influence; somewhere inside that wealthy six, five or three percent, you will find - The Antichrist.

Please take this all with a grain of salt. Regard it as the casual meanderings of an aging writer, and remember. The thing that is hovering above you on the other side of the bedcovers just ate your brother. You heard every damned bite. Wake up. Scream if you can.