[excerpt]
Third in the trilogy:
• A Minnesota Man
• Herbie & Mowgli Vanquish (Mulch) The Twin Cities
Foreword
“A whole new form of government is going to take over the country.”
— Jack Ruby
That’s what it was, wasn’t it?
We hoped and waited for something like what we had been born with, as if it were always there, but it was gone.
We started out spoiled, all this stuff going on, running full-blast, riding a bike down the street with no hands, arms out-stretched.
We didn’t even see the wall.
The U.S. has lost its way.
It should have been evident with LBJ, then Nixon, and we should have really realized it with Ford, but really all we wanted to do was live our lives and have fun and happy children so, well, there was Reagan and Clinton and Carter and Bush and another Bush and now Obama.
And it’s almost so obvious now that we can’t really ignore it.
But we will ignore it as long as we possibly can.
We will ignore it.
Can you imagine John F. Kennedy trying to convince us that killing by drones is okay or that the government is spying on us pretty much 24/7/365 and that we should just get used to it?
It’s a species difference between Obama and Kennedy. Kennedy and Clinton, the two Bushes, do not occupy the same phylum.
What we really need is a manifesto or a great novel that will once and for all show us what we already know.
What we knew in our hearts in 1963 and every year and day since then.
Yep, it’s about all the lies. And it would probably be about money, too, because that’s always in there.
Torture and Waco and Oklahoma City and 9/11 and Sandy Hook, Tucson, Aurora, and there would be a lot more names of cities in there, Memphis and the Ambassador Hotel pantry and Dallas, and see, you already know what I’m talking about. I just have to say the towns.
And now “drones” is a big word in our culture.
And all you have to say is “drones” and everyone knows what you mean.
And Iraq, Afghanistan, El Salvador, Libya.
All you have to say is those names and people know what you mean. And, oh, yeah, Fallujah.
And there should be this essay or this novel that’s not too long, or maybe really long like a Russian novel that when we read it, we would all say, oh, yeah, that’s just how it is.
And then Obama would be in jail.
And Bush would be in jail.
And Clinton would be in jail.
And there would be a big hearing in Washington.
And it would mean something.
And it would be on TV every afternoon.
And at the end of it all these men and women, oh, yeah, Condoleeza too, would be shown being taken to prison, just ducking their heads into the backseat of a police car, by an overhead special copter-cam.
And then they would bring in all the high school history books and start going through them and start putting in the right stuff.
They’d put big teacher red pen marks through all the made-up shit like the moon and the Pearl Harbor attack and WMD and anthrax and the Gulf of Tonkin and Wellstone’s plane crash and put in the real stuff, the stuff they had in these other books in these big old cardboard boxes that they never were going to show us – like the old photos in grandma’s closet with her and grandpa drinking beer and smoking cigarettes sitting on top of the ol’ Model A.
And the late-night comedians would talk about real stuff, like the crap that used to be in the high school history books and about how they used to talk about how one truck bomb did that to the Murrah Building and how they used to say that jet fuel took down those big NYC buildings and how we used to say a whole airplane disappeared into that little hole in the Pentagon and that little hole in the ground in Pennsylvania.
They’d say jokes about that stuff just as easily as Bob Hope used to talk about golf and airplane food and we all thought it was the funniest crap ever.
They would start talking about a whole bunch of stuff after that big meeting, things they never talked about before, because once you get talking, other things come to mind, like the minimum wage, the climate, the environment, doctor bills, things to help people live better.
Then some people would say, hey, you know what else we could do?
They’d go fix up the old school in the middle of town and put in new sidewalks in the neighborhood around that old school.
They would start tearing down the county jail and the prison in town, brick by brick.
And then, all because of this one novel that said things everybody already knew, a bunch of people would walk to the CIA building and the FBI building and the Homeland Security Building and they would walk right in, because they paid for this piece of crap building anyway, and then they would walk over to the fence with the razor wire and they would cut it down and they would help the people through and they would put up this homemade sign, maybe with cardboard and crayons and tack it up on a stick or a branch or a shovel and it would say “America” on it.
That’s what might all happen as soon as the person is born who will write this manifesto or clear, concise, inexpensive novel that will tell us all the things we already know.
And all we have to do now is wait.
In the preface for my novel The American Dream I talk about my parents, Milosh and Isabel.
They were Czech and Irish. They moved to Norfolk from Winner, South Dakota when Dad got his big break to be an engineer for the Chicago & Northwestern Railroad.
They grabbed each other in the South Dakota wind and held on. They were true believers in the American dream, I suppose, though they would not have put it that way.
More likely they just believed in working and going to church and mowing the lawn and taking care of your car and watching the ball game or Bonanza if it was on.
Dad spent part of his career on the Long Pine run, staying overnight at the motel near the tracks and fishing for trout. He brought fish home and maybe a foul ball from the amateur games in Winner when he got a chance to go there and see his brother Jimmy, home from the Pacific war, now with a wife and his own family. Another brother, Albert, served with Patton and later went to South Omaha to work in a box factory. Frank went to California. Molly just went away.
Dad didn’t go to the war because his job with the railroad was considered vital to the war effort.
They said Dad was good enough at shortstop to go pro, but he didn’t. Maybe he had to work.
He hauled cases at the pop factory before the C&NW. They did the best they could. It’s sad, a sad state of affairs for a whole nation.
Everyone does the best he can and we end up bombing Hiroshima. Dad cuts the lawn each Saturday morning on his one chance to rest and there go a thousand people in Chile, mowed down by our own CIA.
Mom calls us in to supper and poof! Laos is toast.
Us kids sneak outside for another round of playing after supper. We play hide and seek, catch lightning bugs, tell ghost stories and leave the screen door open just a peep.
A couple hundred intelligent poor people in El Salvador are hustled out of their beds and shot.
In Norfolk the media was The Norfolk Daily News, WJAG Radio and the Omaha World-Herald.
There is no way for someone just growing up, or someone who has not been much of anywhere else to know that those outlets distort the news. They tell the story in the way they want it to be told.
We suffered and bled along with the perils of Otis The Drunk, but did not have a clue about the people being murdered by our own government in Chile. And nobody told us. We weren’t supposed to know.
There really is no way of knowing — not some fat kid who only has eyes for Strawberry Swirl — that what is on TV is not great and true and the only real reality worth understanding.
It wasn’t until I left Norfolk, to go to the seminary in Minnesota, then Washington, D.C., then New York, later prison, that I began to understand what a warped vision and body my upbringing had saddled me with.
Later on, I even questioned Johnny Carson himself.
I studied the JFK assassination and learned that attorney Jim Garrison had been a guest on The Tonight Show talking about his investigation. I listened to the recording on the internet — of Carson grilling Garrison.
I found Carson’s address and wrote to him, asking him, Norfolkan-to-Norfolkan.
March 2, 2001
Johnny Carson
c/o Carson Productions Group
3110 Main St.
Suite 200
Santa Monica, CA 90405
Mr. Carson:
Hello.
I am originally from Norfolk, Nebr., graduated from NHS in 1973. Recently I had a chance to listen to the tape of your interview with attorney Jim Garrison.
I don’t recall watching the live interview, but very well could have as watching your show before bed was our regular routine, as it was for many others.
As a fellow Norfolkan, I am curious as to why you treated Garrison as you did. I probably will not get the chance to contact you twice, so I will be frank right away. You sounded as if you were acting as a spokesman for someone else. Really. Were you protecting the real killers of Kennedy?
Of course, you were. What else can I say, but that it is obvious now with almost forty years of perspective. The Warren Commission was a joke and Garrison as on to something. Something frightening to be sure. But why did you have so much allegiance to the plotters and none to your dead president? Because he could not pay your from the grave? Is it as simple as that?
Thanks in part to you we have been forced to live in Disneyland since 1963, where everything is unreal, everything entertainment and illusion.
Please tell me, as I will never know myself: Is wealth and power worth the sublimation of the truth?
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Mike Palecek
Johnny Carson’s Response
March 9, 2001
Mike Palecek
702 6th Avenue
Sheldon, Iowa 51201
Dear Mr. Palecek,
I’m sending you a copy of a letter I recently received to make you aware that some ignorant asshole is sending out letters over your signature.
You should look into this.
Sincerely,
Johnny Carson
We Have A Dream …
… of bringing the United States politicians, journalists and generals who have brought about this long ten-year war and debacle to trial and putting them on TV just like O.J., every afternoon so every American can watch just like the McCarthy Hearings and the JFK funeral procession.
What we need is a New American Dream.
Not of new homes and toasters and microwaves, but of becoming the type of country we always thought we were.
And part of that is becoming the quality of people who are capable of telling the truth.
Right now we live on lies. We subsist on lies, but it’s not really living.
We lie to ourselves about how we deserve this country and we deserve to shut others out after we took the land from others.
We lie to ourselves and our children about all aspects of our history.
The New American Dream means never having to say some question or idea is not valid. We are allowed to ask any questions that we have … there are no wrong questions. There is no hidden black military budget, there are no UFO files Americans cannot see, no JFK documents that will not be opened during our lifetimes, no destroyed RFK murder photos by the L.A. police, no evidence from Ground Zero taken away before we can even look at it – we are not the Soviet Union of the 1960s – this is supposed to be America. That is our dream, to become America, The New America, the real hope of the world.
I believe that 9/11 was an inside job.
Bush, Cheney, Rice, Powell, Rumsfeld, Ashcroft, Obama, Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, Joe Biden.
They all know that and yet they refuse to acknowledge what they know. They kill and continue to kill. They allow others to die and continue to send others to their deaths for a lie.
What we need in America is a Truth Commission like they had in South Africa to heal their broken country.
Our country is surely broken as well.
We need a Truth Commission. We need to put certain people on the stand and we need to be allowed to ask questions.
We are not even allowed to ask questions.
Those who are supposed to ask questions for us refuse to do so. Can you honestly say that Brian Williams or Matt Lauer or Katie Couric or Amy Goodman or Jon Stewart or The New York Times or the Minneapolis Star-Tribune asks the questions that need to be asked?
The United States of America is also supposed to be based on the Constitution. It is not based on the Constitution. The president does not ask anyone before he goes to war, bombing, killing people.
It is rather based on those in power being focused like a laser beam not on truth and social justice and doing the right thing – which is why we voted for them – but rather on doing whatever it takes for them to remain in power.
It is based rather on the shooting of Jack Kennedy from perhaps as many as six vantages in Dealey Plaza. That is the Big Boom – The Big Boom Theory of the creation of this country.
Before that instant we had a chance to fight poverty and racism and war, get the truth, the truth about whatever, because before that moment everything seemed bright and possible, even probable.
But after that Big Boom, the dustbowl clouds of power and greed and violence came out and blotted the sun.
The United States of America is not based in the Constitution or the teachings of Jesus as we proclaim that it is.
It is based on the collaboration of the U.S. Army, FBI, CIA and Memphis police to murder Martin Luther King. It is also based on the shooting of Robert Kennedy from behind his right ear, rather than from the front where Sirhan Sirhan was standing.
We do not make cars anymore in America but we do psy-ops like the Greeks and Romans did philosophy, astronomy and speeches and literature.
These Great Misdeeds are where we honed our master craft, where those who rule founded this country, where our gears, our tool and die were cast.
Forget about the Liberty Bell.
Forget about Mount Rushmore.
Forget about the Grand Canyon.
They are as much window dressing as CNN or NBC News or National Public Radio.
The Lorraine Motel in Memphis is our true Plymouth Rock.
Dallas’ Dealey Plaza is our real Mount Rushmore.
The Ambassador Hotel pantry is our actual Grand Canyon.
Waco is our Arlington Cemetery.
Oklahoma City is our Yellowstone Park.
The woods near Eveleth, Minnesota where Paul Wellstone’s plane went down are our National Mall.
And with the confidence and experience gained in the 1960s our actual Founding Fathers, whoever they are, were able to tack on a Bill of Rights to their version of the Constitution on Sept. 11, 2001. …
… We have fake history.
Our junior high and high school history books should be in italics, handed out by the teacher on the first day with a wink: Remember the Maine – Pearl Harbor – Gulf of Tonkin – Waco – Oklahoma City bombing – moon landings – stolen elections.
Because we accepted the Warren Commission we got the “9/11 What Controlled Demolition Commission” and our children will get the “XYZ Non-Investigation by Rich People Covering Up For Other Rich People.”
I believe 9/11 was an inside job. They got the new Pearl Harbor they wanted to invade Iraq and take the oil.
The troops are not protecting us. That is someone’s spin on the day’s news, somebody’s advertising slogan, someone else’s sermon.
The troops serve the empire. They are not heroes. They kill and plunder for the empire. The heroes in our country are the protesters, the ones who go face to face with the empire, those who have occupied, those pounding on missiles with household hammers, those who have stood up in public meetings and shouted at the liars, those writers and little radio show hosts almost nobody knows about.
The Obama election, believing in Hope. I had hope. I had hope that we might enter a brand new period of openness, no wrong questions, Truth – becoming the type of people, nation that we always thought we were.
It didn’t happen. And we have to ask ourselves why?
It’s one of those questions that we are allowed to ask — that we should ask.
You have to know that Barack Obama knows the whole truth about the 9/11 attacks.
He is complicit.
He has lied. He continued the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan based on a lie. And he knows he is lying.
He lied right to our faces on national television when he said that Osama bin Laden had been killed … and buried at sea. … Osama bin Laden was buried at sea … and Jessica Lynch was rescued heroically, the U.S.A. does not torture, Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, George Bush won the 2000 election, see, there is a plane there in that hole in Shanksville, it went all the way into that hole and no, there is no blood and no bodies and no luggage scattered … or plane parts … and Osama bin Laden … was buried at sea. …
Can you believe the Warren Commission?
I mean believe that it really happened, and we did not have riots because of it, but rather we just say, oh, well … and so …
Bush fought the 9/11 commission.
He did not want to testify alone. Was the commission meeting in the dark, with spiders?
After 9/11 all the propaganda to promote the war – terror alerts – where did those go? Osama Bin Laden tapes in the middle of the afternoon on Fox and CNN and NBC … 9/11 Commission, finally, and then what a supreme joke that was and we settled for it. Building 7 – controlled demolition – where’s the plane in the Pentagon – Shanksville – dancing Israelis? … And still the Bushes ride in a golf cart down the third baseline waving to the crowd and are greeted by cheers rather than tomatoes, fists and handcuffs … Karl Rove, Donald Rumsfeld, Dick Cheney walk free … Condoleeza Rice teaches at Stanford rather than being locked up forever in one of these high-tech concentration camps we have, like in Florence, Colorado, and shuffling off to the shower each morning wearing ankle shackles and a waist chain and fluorescent orange pajamas … for the rest of their lives.
If we’re going to have these insane places, we might as well put the worst of the worst there, and that would be George and George Bush, Dick Cheney, Karl Rove, Condoleeza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld and whatever other dozens have conspired, continue to conspire, to overthrow this country – who know the truth and don’t tell the rest of us: FBI director Moeller, General Tommy Franks and all the other generals who acted as commentators on NPR and Fox, ensuring us that the coming war was so cool, so good, so right.
And now we have how many hundreds of thousands of dead human beings in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Just people who were living their lives and found themselves in the way of the American quest for gold, for dominance.
And the thousands of young Americans who have died or had their lives ruined because of a lie, a huge, amazing lie, perpetrated by men and women we asked in good faith to lead us on our way.
Bush, Obama … Card, Clinton, Fleischer … Wolfowitz, Aschcroft, Pearl, O’Reilly, Hannity, Couric, Lauer, Williams, Rather, Jennings, Brokaw, Limbaugh, Blitzer, Sawyer, Rivera, all those names, who, if history ever rights itself, will be synonymous with Goebbels, Goering, Himmler.
Back when I was a kid growing up in Nebraska, we thought Lyndon Johnson was just a big, boring dude.
Well, we all need to read: LBJ, The Mastermind of JFK’s Assassination, by Phillip F. Nelson. It turns out that the vice-president of the United States might have planned and carried through the murder of John F. Kennedy.
Maybe he did. Maybe he was just a part of it.
But even so.
Never in 100 years would my hometown newspaper, radio station, teachers, coaches, or parents have let us even consider such a thing.
The term “grassy knoll” was said with the same sneer that “liberal” gets today and even today, almost 50 years later, that seems like a garbled term to pronounce.
All the while we pointed fingers at the Soviet Union, declaring them a closed society and pointing back at ourselves, boasting forever of a free and open society.
We are anything but, have been anything but.
The ones who ruled the Soviet Union, well, they had nothing on the ones who rule us.
Yes, these successful lies are more profound than anything else in World History, ever.
It’s just all so very well done. It’s who we are.
And so the most profound, big thing about this big thing called America is that it is a highly successful lie.
And you can say that’s conspiracy tinfoil, to think like that, about the Bushes and the assassinations and such, but I say it’s just paying attention.
Remember the Anthrax Letters, which said “Are You Afraid?” Those were not written with a rock and chisel like Fred Flintstone from the recesses of some cave in Afghanistan. Those letters came from persons within our own government.
Like a horror movie and the killer is in the same house with us.
These killers are right here, with us and ”they” want us to be afraid.
We cannot be afraid.
… the great city crawls with people, some smartly dressed, many of them shabby, a few beautiful but most not, all reduced by the towering structures around them to the size of insects, but scuttling, hurrying, intent in the milky morning sun upon some plan or scheme or hope they are hugging to themselves, their reason for living another day, each one of them impaled live upon the pin of consciousness, fixed upon self-advancement and self-preservation. That and only that.
— John Updike, Terrorist
That’s perhaps the human condition.
… forced to find a reason for living another day, impaled live upon the pin of consciousness … to become fixed upon self-advancement and self-preservation.
But the human condition also means knowing when there is something wrong, something not quite right and having the spirit to refuse to live like that, to live within a lie.
That’s why so many people have worked for so long, for ten years, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty years, against all sorts of obstacles, to find the truth, to make this the country and we the people we always assumed we were.
Common people, educated people, who have set this puzzle down, spread it out over the whole kitchen table and began working on it, for years and years.
New people drift in the door and take their place.
People like Kevin Barrett and Jim Fetzer, who have been working non-stop for years and years to give us that New American Dream.
They are not afraid.
We take courage from their example.
We also cannot be afraid.
— From The Dynamic Duo, A White Rose Blooms in Wisconsin, Kevin Barrett, Jim Fetzer & The American Resistance
Preface
If you will it, it is no dream …
Fuckin’ twenty minutes late, what the fuck is that?
Theodor Herzl. The state of Israel. If you will it, Dude, it is no dream.
What the fuck you talkin’ about, man, the carrier.
What’s in the fuckin’ carrier?
Oh, Cynthia’s dog, think it’s a Pomeranian.
You brought a Pomeranian bowling?
I never brought it bowling. I didn’t rent it shoes. I’m not buying it a fucking beer. He’s not taking your fucking turn, Dude.
… this is a fucking show dog, with fucking papers. You can’t board it, it gets upset. Its hair falls out ..
The fucking dog has fucking papers.
Over the line!
From the comments section:
[Unz Review]
... Gas chamber stories didn’t gain traction until about 30 years after the war.
It wasn’t until the 1970’s that a flood of books, movies, and documentaries began the process of solidifying a common narrative around the concentration camps.
Previous to that, it was possible to depict WW2 without mentioning a plan to gas all Jews and cremate the remains.
Take the 1965 oscar winning movie, “The Sound of Music”. Typical of the nostalgic art of the 1950’s and ’60’s, it said nothing about Jews in WW2. Jews who worked in the arts industry didn’t regard making statements about the camps as an imperative.
Individual Jews, OTOH, liked to embellish WW2 propaganda with salacious and fantastic tales of eagles, bears, and electric floors – their message discipline was non-existent.
Once the Hoax industry started making real money in the 1980’s, the stories fell into line.
ONE
The coat that hangs in your closet belongs to the poor.
— Peter Maurin
We were a little late.
Despite embarking posthaste.
Because Mowgli had to pee. He takes for fucking ever. And in Manhattan? And, the primo directions we got from Wind In His Antennae were for shit.
But still we saw.
There they fucking were, about nine big guys in tight suits, with ear plugs and radios, helping rush Mr. E out the side door, and then the ambulance hauls ass up, boom! I tell you that dude slammed that driveway, woah, like now! That’s what I’m talkin’ about.
And they bring out this other guy on the gurney, the dead guy, I'm guessing.
Windy said be there at six bells.
And we would have, if the directions weren’t fucked, and fucking Mowgli.
We were gonna stop this shit, expose the fuck out of all a this. What the fuck, bro, that’s what I’m gonna tell Windy when I see him.
They put him, the first guy, from the side door, in this black SUV, sure didn’t look deceased to me, and whoosh! they pulled away from the curb, into that New York traffic. We stood there watching by sight and by the helicopter as long as we could, on tiptoes, until they disappeared into the mud, the blood, the beer, recalling the words of Thomas Dewey, “if you’re not in New York, you’re out camping.”
Then we had a dog, a pretzel, took a nap, sat on the grass at Bryant Park and did some homo sapiens watching, just kinda diggin' the city vibe.
All in all, it was a pretty good day.
Had to get up early as fuck, but still not bad at all. …
TWO
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me
When the road looks rough ahead
And you’re miles and miles from your nice warm bed
You just remember what your old pal said
Boy, you’ve got a friend in me
Yeah, you’ve got a friend in me
You’ve got a friend in me You’ve got a friend in me
— Randy Newman
Anybody remember the New Jersey Lights, what was that ten, fifteen minutes ago?
It’s kind of hard to keep up, if you’re trying. If you’re not, then things are pretty much okay. I know, right?
Remember when I got shot? I do. And before that Grampowpow got shot and then he died, and then the homo sapiens murdered a bunch of our folks.
We got even with them in Minneapolis, then we came to northern Wisconsin where they have like zero bars, not taverns.
Somebody said, to me and Mowgli one day in the Packer Pub & Grub, he said, you wanna see something?
And we said, fuck-yeah.
I don’t really talk like a Soprano driving a Central Park horse buggy when I’m in Minnesota or Wisconsin, just sayin’. But since we been in New York, man. I’m startin’ ta ‘tink we’re like chameleons. Must be a built-in protective thing, like cloaking, pissing with the wind. I have a cousin who speaks perfect Nebraskan. No, really.
Well, the aliens. That’s Wind In His Antennae. He’s a pretty good dude, but I gotta tell ya, I think he screwed us with that Jeffrey Epstein thing ...
Windy, he says one day, we were chillin’ watching satellites, puttin’ away a few Coronas, bolt out of the blue, he says, you guys want to help us, get your feet wet, your hands dirty, be a fuckin’ part of the fuckin’ world for once, do somethin’?
And I says, yeah, I says, you put it all nice and wrap it up with a bow like that, how can I resist, you fuckin’ reptile. So, whatta ya got?
Takin’ an interest. Okay up to a point. Prime directive, got that from Spock. That’s what works best, just do your own thing.
But they finally, with Obama, I think, probly, Clintons, Biden, Bush, Trump, such a line of succession of slime balls ... figured they had to do something.
And I thought they didn’t mix with the “others." Maybe this was the last one, now they’re gonna set things straight, or, maybe them and Epstein got somethin’ on the aliens ... hmm.
See, these aliens, well, here’s how it was told to me ...
They came here a long frikkin’ time ago. It’s like this good ol’ Sas I used to know. Him and his family came to Minnesota from Oregon for a funeral, and they just stayed.
Well, some did.
The aliens.
Some were already here from long ago, on a temporary, in-transit basis, got involved in pyramid construction, I’m told, civilizations, advisory, consultative basis, and probably more than that in some cases.
Then, comes along the 1930s-40s, and like snowbirds to Phoenix, maybe want to hunker down permanently, kids are grown, you know, and so they talk to the higher-up tellurian rabble.
Still not wanting to really get involved.
And, all the while, learning from Yogi Berra, how you could see a lot by observing, they see, for one thing, revolutions for the people, France, U.S., China, Russia, Latin America, pretty much all over.
And watching these others also taking account, and these others are doing pretty good, and they don’t really want that, for everybody to do good, because their muscle t-shirts from Wall Drug read: Poverty Isn’t The ProblemIt’sThe Solution.
In fact, these revolutions “for good” kind of pissed them off and now They (the legal name for their group as declared in secret ceremony in the second floor former Grange Hall, in Kearney, Nebraska in 1932) want to double-down and pretty much take over, but because of certain this and that, there still exists in the people’s head a not-great vision of storm troopers headed this way down the street, and so that means They have to think if there are other ways, which there are. By deception is also good and will suffice.
Anywho, all that is a long ass way of sayin’ that we went to Arizona to meet the aliens, learned how they had been here for a while and they didn’t really mind us and the tellurians so much, but there were some that they really couldn’t stand, and they were finally, after about a million years, getting organized, their poop in a pile, to right the ship, as it were.
And that’s why it makes no sense that Windy gave me directions that made certain we didn’t quite get there to be a part of all that, and why The Aliens let The Others just have it their way, again.
Unless, like I said, maybe These Othersalso have something on The Aliens.
Yeah, I don’t know. Not sayin', just sayin' ya know?
Where is Officer Colombo when you need him?
Or John Kennedy, or Bobby, or Superman, or Buzz Lightyear, right?
Where is anybody when you need them.
THREE
At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. And early in the twentieth century came the great disillusionment.
— War of the Worlds, H.G. Wells
We know now that in the early years of the twentieth century this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man’s, and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. ...
Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that are to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us.
— Orson Wells, War of the Worlds broadcast, as performed by Orson Welles & the Mercury Theatre on the Air, and broadcast on the Columbia Broadcasting System on Sunday, October 30, 1938 from 8:00 to 9:00 P. M.
“I believe that ancient Jews built boats and sailed to America!”
I just think that’s hilarious and I like to shout it out once every now and again, sometimes at three in the morning from the woods next to a quiet little Wisconsin town. It’s a hoot.
Well, hell, da Jews.
Whatta ya gonna do?
Pretty big topic these days, in the world.
I don’t really want to get into their whole history, I don’t really know their whole history. I just, I do know, it’s not good, at least the parts that I know, Gaza, Kennedy’s, 9/11. I’ll allow there are lots of good Jews, no doubt. I just don’t get all the killing and lies. What the fuck? Ya know?
Fuckin’ Aliens.
Fuckin’ Jews.
Whatta ya gonna do?
Can’t take ‘em fishin’, can’t take ‘em to the movies, home to Mama.
Just gotta love ‘em.
FOUR
The next war will be a war of ideas.
— Bill Hicks
Well, what Windy explained to me, and some of it I already knew, was that They controlled everything, everything not controlled by Windy and his crew, Klaatu, the Na’vi, the Iron Giant.
And here is where it really gets down, to the ground, like donkey kong.
They do all this fake shit, control everything, for one, to confuse people, something called Ordo Ab Chao, which to me sounds like space alien dog food, but anyway ... because they can, and almost nobody even knows They are doing it, because They want to rule the world, park wherever the fuck They want.
Who wouldn’t?
I don’t know ... I don’t.
That sounds like a shit-ton of work. I got this baseball package, what else do I need.
And They do, have done, are doing, all this shit: Every Town GetsAShooting (you’re next! you’re next! just wait!), for one. And then all this shit, I don’t know, Floyd tattoo, “weather mod,” fires.
And the way Windy explains it ... you know that one movie, no, not Shrek II, the other one, where the toys try to impress the bad kid owner, Bad Andy, Windy calls him. Like the Democrats and Republicans and They ... that’s as far as I cared to listen, actually. ... but there was more, there always fuckin' is.
Oh, now you tell me.
Mowgli has a list: strong cities, beheading videos, bin Laden videos, buried at sea, Saddaam statue coming down, “we were always at war with Eurasia?”
What’s that even mean, Mowg?
He says, just read.
There was never an Epsteen list.
Invade Iraq/Afghnistan makes perfect sense.
Six feet should do it.
Freedom Fries.
WMD/Oswald/Sirhan/Fall on their heads/Parkland/Columbine/Aurora/Pearl Harbor/Moon/Tonkin/Jan. 6, all makes perfect sense.
Maxwell/Epstein/Maxwell/Mosad.
Didn’t kill because he had things 2 be released if they did.
Stuff he has helps them rule the world
... also, need fuckin' America disarmed, yesterday ...
Okay, okay, yada dada.
I read it.
What’s it all mean?
Mowg.
Mowg?
FIVE
Stahl: How did you convince Hezbollah to buy this [exploding pagers]:
Mossad agent: Well, obviously they didn’t know they were buying it from Israel.
We have an incredible array of [ ] creating foreign companies that have no way of being traced back to Israel, shell companies over shell companies that affect the supply chain to our favor. We create a pretend world. We are a global production company. We write the screen play. We’re the directors. We’re the producers. We’re the main actors. The world is our stage.
— Mossad Agent on 60 Minutes talking to Leslie Stahl, Dec. 22, 2024
Did you know that "Goyim" is Jewish for cattle.
They call you “Goy.”
I don’t think they call us that, or the aliens, they better not, just you.
These stories, these “narratives,” these newspaper and television and radio stories are what They call Goy Stories, like putting a radio in the kitchen window at night for the cows to listen to, to help them go to sleep.
And while you, I mean, the cows, are sleeping, They get to do all their shit.
Well, so that’s really why me and Mowgli and Windy put this book together, the one you have in your hands. We think, like Maurin said, that we all do better when we all do better, and it’s no doubt the rabble — you guys — are in love with stories.
And, what you need.
What you deserve.
What you absolutely must have — to get your dobbers up, your spirits motated, your goddamn balls and butts off the downstairs sofa, where, in the pitch dark, you are watching TV, eating Doritos, clutching the cushy pillow ...
... You are not toys to be played with ...
You are ... I don't knoow ... something else.
... Anyway without further milieu, I present to you, your diegesis.
Goy Story
Well, once upon a time ... there once were aaall these fuckin’ people ...
... And they were all in this big fucking building, a stadium, and they were cheering, “Yay! Yay! Fuckin’ Yay!”
Because all these big shots were being brought in with trumpets, and streamers, and shit, on horseback, in chariots, in golf carts, in big black limousines with red, white & blue, and blue & white little fucking flags fluttering from the quarter panels.
And, one by one, They were brought up to this platform, with dancing girls from NPR, this big long run of wooden steps for this thing made yesterday just for them.
When They all got up to the top, everyone cheered. The fucking stadium was fucking packed. The big shots smiled wide and turned and waved over their heads as balloons and confetti streamed down on their heads.
Then, on the Gigantic Fucking Jumbotron screen there appeared live images of children, from Gaza, Iraq, Afghanistan, Detroit, Vietnam, El Salvador, Los Angeles, Hiroshima, Ukraine.
And they were wearing the best clothes they could come up with, and you could see some adults off to the side working to get them into a clump so they could all be seen on screen.
Then ... one girl in the clump started them out.
She sang out, “Let’s Go Brandon! ... Let’s Go Brandon! Let’s Go, Brandon!”
The other children joined her, and as a choir they sang out, soon joined by the big crowd in the stadium. like the Vienna Boys Choir on fuckin' steroids.
“Let’s ... Go ... Brandon!
“Let’s Go Dubya!
“Let’s Go Clinton!
“Let’s Go, Hillary!
“Let’s Go Obama!
"Let's, Go, Bibi!
“Let’s Go Donald ...”
The big shots on the stage stood there with their mouths closed and their hands at their sides in fists, stiffly swiveling all around, seeing the children on the screen and the huge ... fucking ... crowd.
And, looking up, they saw not balloons, nor confetti, but now nooses dangling from the gallows.
And they thought, oh, shit.
Oy, vey iz mir. …
… Sweet dreams now.
And as the years go by
Our friendship will never die
You're gonna see, it's our destiny
You've got a friend in me.
About the author:
Mike Palecek has worked on newspapers in Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska and South Dakota. He also produced Penn Magazine, and was a co-founder of Moon Rock Books, along with Jim Fetzer, as well as co-hosting, along with Chuck Gregory, The New American Dream Radio Show. He has written several novels. Now retired after working for twenty years with the disabled, Palecek also served five terms in jail and prison for protests against U.S. military policy, and was the Iowa Democratic Party 5th District candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives in the 2000 election, receiving 65,500 votes
(Banned from Canada)
(Palecek video presentations)
Freedom of the Press False Flags & Conspiracies Conference 2020
https://www.bitchute.com/video/PBDaf07tMm5K/
Freedom of the Press False Flags & Conspiracies Conference 2021
https://153news.net/watch_video.php?v=WGDSDUSWSM78
Radio interviews, KPFA, Pacifica Berkeley,
with Denny Smithson
https://mikepalecek.newdream.us/radio-interviews/
Archives for The New American Dream Radio Show
https://newdream.us
Lovely!