Caretakers of the hoax
Whether dupes, useful idiots or outright assets, the original generation of JFK researchers started right away in assessing the claims of the official narrative. One individual who still posthumously carries a great deal of weight within the Grassy Knoll Society is the character known as Air Force Colonel L. Fletcher Prouty. His shtick in effect was “I was right there in the belly of the beast”. He worked in the Pentagon from 1953 to early 1964 as the liaison between the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the intelligence agencies, specifically the CIA.
The Grassy Knollers hold Col. Prouty in high esteem. The spy craft term “limited hang-out”* seems apt here: The parceling out of a certain amount of good information along with some obfuscation to set the researcher down paths to a predetermined conclusion. IE, “Kennedy Shot Dead”.
*In Prouty’s book, JFK- the CIA, Vietnam, and the Plot to Assassinate John F Kennedy, he tells of a mock invasion of a town in Spain by Special Forces appearing as insurgents to impress the locals for the need of a constant military presence. A few researchers sympathetic to the premise that JFK was not ordered killed have suggested that Prouty is leaving a large hint that anything military intelligence reports should be considered suspect, including the JFK assassination. Possibly, but given that he insisted unwaveringly that Kennedy was killed, it could be seen he is making a distinction between the false flag fetish of intelligence and the veracity of the President’s assassination.
The first gonfalon-sized red flag is Prouty’s CV. Betraying your oaths to tell the “truth”, however seemingly ineffectively, is itself a hoax. No one in the position he claims to have been in would have been allowed to say what he said over the years unless he was instructed to do so. No one would have been allowed to publish the material he published without approval from his superiors. And make no mistake: high-ranking officers of the military do not retire to a life of unobstructed candor. The oaths he would have sworn in order to advance as high as he did would be binding for life.
Whatever he did reveal, it was in the past tense and therefore largely harmless, as making a case in an incorruptible military court of law is simply impossible. Taking any of his claims to civilian criminal courts is equally impossible. The military is not prosecutable save for their own internal machinations and putting their own policies on trial is not ever going to happen.
Concomitant to that, the investigative powers of the Congress of the United States, history has shown, are completely ineffective in policing both the military forces and the intelligence apparatus. These two elements of the government are out of reach of the judicial system imposed on American civilians.
Should they do harm to those civilians they will get away with it. Likewise, corporate media will never betray these twin towers of deception and fraud. They are in fact a central support of this dual system: they elide the complicity of these two institutions in willful deceit and they reinforce the morals and ethics that the civilian population is encumbered by but which the government and their masters never impose upon themselves.
Another gatekeeper of the assassination myth was the eccentric and sometimes incoherent Mae Brussell. A revered matronly figure of the first generation of researchers, she was often marginalized by the official dissenters of which Mark Lane was the most prominent. Another disadvantage was her inability to publish a comprehensive volume outlying her hypothesis: to wit, Nazis clandestinely brought in to the US government and military by the OSS/CIA had been behind the assassination.
For more than seventeen years, beginning in 1971, she aired an hour-long radio broadcast outlining in detail and in real time how the JFK assassination and the political murders that followed were symptomatic of this deliberate Nazification of America. This hypothesis did not often sit well with her fellow researchers, giving her in hindsight, in the wake of the admittance of the existence of Operation Paperclip, seemingly more credibility than her detractors. Her scope was too wide for the average researcher to keep up with. Her reliance on the mainstream media for information and her occasional denunciation of same made her arguments seem occasionally contradictory. Likewise, her raspy voice and rapid-fire delivery, along with her difficulty in articulating names, made her broadcasts hard to follow. Yet with all those handicaps, her ability to read the auguries and predict the next wave of scandal made her a mesmerizing presence.
Trouble is, she may have been an outright dupe. She was born of wealth and privilege in an influential family and had the confidence to get close to individuals and organizations and absorb the information they conveyed, whether straight to her or by proximity. Her ability to predict in 1968 the rise of Ronald Reagan all the way to the White House and to also predict the day before he was shot at that he was in grave danger from the Bush faction, gave her a real sense of credibility. In the end, though, political chicanery drove right on by, never missing a beat, and though her efforts inspired a new generation of skeptics, the failure of any real prosecutions beyond the dog and pony show of Watergate never clued her in that it might all just be for show. That the real game was far more insidious and hidden from view than her ideological presumptions regarding democracy could allow her to see.
Her “death” at 66 in 1988 from a mysterious cancer had Jack Ruby written all over it. Why she was retired into the celebrity protection program at that time was for several reasons: First, her bête noir Ronnie Reagan had left political life. Bush the First, another level up the food chain from Reagan, was to engage the military in the first step to perpetual war in Iraq and Mae’s nit picking would likely turn up some inconvenient truths. She would have had to go all in on attacking the Bush administration and a watered down Mae Brussell would have brought suspicion on the accuracy and genuineness of her previous work, research that above all else reinforced the myth of Dealey Plaza.
She would also be retired because a younger and far more articulate dupe, one of her most prominent protégés, Dave Emory, was ready for prime time on the alt research circuit. He was in fact the watered down yet recalcitrant version of the Mae Brussell model that provided the steam release that kept the research community from any real insight into the ongoing system of deception.
Finally, after twenty five years in the game, she probably thought she had earned a nice retirement and being true to their word is good for future recruitment drives and a dead celebrity shown secretly to be alive and quite well off is awful tempting to those who respond to a “higher calling”.
From Radio to Internet “Radio”
Today, the most prominent JFK researchers are to found on the Internet radio program, Black Op Radio, out of Vancouver, Canada, hosted by Len Osanic, the caretaker of the L. Fletcher Prouty archive. This show, beginning in the year 2000, originally featured Jim Fetzer as a near weekly regular: but he was eventually displaced by Jim Di Eugenio, a high school teacher from Los Angeles, Fetzer going off to start his own podcast.
Fetzer in his avuncular way is almost as grating as Mae Brussell in his vocal delivery. He claims intellectual authority from his military experience and his academic career as a philosopher of science. In many ways his CV would make his role as a gatekeeper almost transparent as his qualifications align perfectly with firsthand knowledge of ballistics as well as claiming to form coherent and unassailable arguments. Of course he does nothing of the sort and when even he hears the internal logic of his arguments challenged he overwhelms his guests with an oft repeated litany of “facts” about JFK’s gunshot murder, bellows a life affirming guffaw and cues a Beatles song as an outro to commercial. By the time the dust settles the show is over and the guest, if allowed a word in edgewise to challenge some aspects of Fetzer’s arguments, is met with only a “that’s truly astonishing” and a quick segue back into the Fetzer narrative corral.
Di Eugenio on the other hand is articulate, well-paced and thoroughly fact based in his analysis of the evidence. Of course that evidence is second hand and so he is also running a filter, though he may not be aware of it. Fetzer truly is avoiding any information that contradicts his thesis. Di Eugenio sounds much more open-minded but the structure of his appearances does not allow for debate. The best he will offer is to read submitted questions, and will occasionally concede he doesn’t know the answer. Still, he assumes JFK was shot dead and despite the introduction to the show claiming it’s the program NSA doesn’t want you to hear, as long as he and the host promote a murdered Kennedy, it is exactly what the NSA want you to hear. Of course it doesn’t matter that they finger the usual suspects, especially the CIA, because, again, that outfit can’t be touched. And honestly, if the NSA didn’t want you to hear this stuff, you wouldn’t.
Over two thousand books have been published about the Kennedy assassination by large presses and small. Though what I am proposing here as a hoax itself and may be considered fiction, if my premise is true then this is the first nonfiction account in which the President survives.
By now, though, the Internet is blanketed with conspiracy research and conspiracy theories. It’s difficult to find consensus on anything using the nets. Sense certainty may have a window here in the speculation dump that the Internet has become. As Fetzer says: Anything is possible, nothing is known. In this environment, the idea that reality is only what your experience is just might grip the collective consciousness. Should that happen to social animals such as ourselves, the will to find consensus as part of the instinctual need to belong could leave us vulnerable to an even more opaque blockade of reality than what we experience now. It is possible that the avalanche of facts suffocating us will leave us immune to fact. We will no longer be willing to accept anything as real and assume it’s all satire.
Without the gravitational pull of consensus, we may spin off this wobbling disk into the void.
Where they go when they “die”
I never would have considered this hypothesis if I couldn’t give a decent answer to the inevitable question: Where did he go after he left the motorcade, Dallas and the presidency? The best guess, and it aligns with the assertion made earlier that they do show you everything if you know what to look for, is Greece, specifically the island of Skorpios in the Ionian Sea. That island was the central compound for the empire of Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis.
In early October of 1963, the international press was allowed seemingly blanket coverage of Jackie’s trip to Skorpios to meet Onassis who was at the time rumored to be sleeping with Jackie’s sister, Lee Radziwill, who was also there. By this volume’s reckoning, the trip was also an eleventh hour review of the plot to secrete JFK onto the island, which was impenetrable by anyone outside the small circle of abettors.
This scenario also makes sense regarding the sham marriage in 1968 between Jackie and Onassis. From that point on, no one would be suspicious of Jackie O hanging out in Greece. No one would suspect that Jackie’s kids were actually with their father.
In time, tall tales of a JFK survival, brain damaged and propped up in a wheel chair, held captive by Onassis who was said to be behind the hit in Dallas, would make the tabloid circuit.
See! It WAS all a hoax! That $million dollars is rightfully mine!
Kennedy at one point was apparently an eyewitness to another of Onassis rival’s burial at sea: Howard Hughes, in 1971. Onassis: King of the Underworld. Too scary to approach, he made the perfect cover story until his job was up in 1975. He had the security apparatus to make his “guest” invisible but mobile. He and Jackie had several different dwellings, one of which was a horse farm in New Jersey; the best candidate for where JFK hid upon his return to the states, likely in ’75 after Onassis possibly did die.
Another case of power being an overwhelming aphrodisiac, at least according to the mind benders who peddle such absurdities as Jackie still needing to be enthralled by wealth and influence to the point she would consent to an arranged marriage with this homunculus. One may well wonder if the public sightings were the only time they spent together, dutifully posing for photographs and then going their separate ways.
In 1988, twenty-five years after the assassination, The Manchurian Candidate was finally rereleased to theaters. I suspect that sometime not too long before the decision was made to re-release the film, JFK did finally die at age seventy-one and the rerelease was a signal to operators of just that and that a new stage of the hoax would now commence.
The response to The Manchurian Candidate indicated that the public would respond to a film about JFK’s assassination: Oliver Stone’s film, JFK, is built around the reopening of the case by Jim Garrison, district attorney of New Orleans. Garrison of course was a military veteran, a former FBI agent and almost certainly a Mason. There is no other way to explain the case he brought against a brother mason Clay Shaw than as an opportunity to refresh the case in the public’s mind and prep the masses for the RFK “assassination”.
Harvard grad and Al Gore frat brother, Tommy Lee Jones as Clay Shaw in Oliver Stone’s, JFK. For whatever reason, Jones essays the butch Shaw as an effete. Shaw was another of the confirmed bachelors that salted the assassination cast with men who channeled their latency into institutional hostility. Right wing politics is rife with latent sexuality from both genders.
Likewise, Oliver Stone was just the man to make the assassination reach apotheosis and forever fix the event in stone as real history. Stone’s CV screams SPOOK!!! He was raised Episcopalian, the denominational choice of the wasp establishment in America. It is the American arm of the Church of England. He attended two of the most exclusive schools in the country, Trinity School at the corner of Wall Street where his father plied his trade as a stockbroker, and then was packed off to The Hill School, a boarding school in Pennsylvania. From there he was accepted into Yale, the née plus ultra of spy schools. As per the drill of a budding spook, Stone dropped out after a year and found himself teaching high school kids in South Vietnam. God knows what he was really doing out there but this whole scenario reads like an intelligence asset making the rounds. He returned to Yale after working as a wiper in the merchant marines, a nice way to return anonymously and under protection. He then inexplicably dropped out again and enlisted, specifically asking for combat duty. It’s hard to imagine a young man with his pedigree and experience doing something like that. It reads as a cover story.
The term “sheep dipped” again seems appropriate. I suspect the ruse was to allow him to appear to have the authority to make films about the Vietnam War and the entire Kennedy/Nixon era. JFK the film itself is a maelstrom of films stocks and edits that swirl around one brittle strip of 8mm home movie film, the Zapruder film. Trying to contain this hypnogogic fluttering is a theatrical courtroom drama, a murder mystery and a family soap opera. The film is such an ambitious mess that it stops in the middle and
Donald Sutherland appears as L. Fletcher Prouty, sort of, to explain to the audience what they have been watching. That ten minute interlude is all you need to see, largely because the automaton labeled Kevin Costner keeps his California surfer dude attempt at a Bayou flavored accent quiet.
Donald Sutherlund as X (pseudo-Prouty) sorts out Stone’s movie for the audience while Kevin Costner scribbles a cheat sheet. The myth of government operators being naive about the machinery of government and their crusading attitude to make right the wrongs of a few bad apples is on full display. Implicit is the claim that this system is workable if everyone, especially the wealthy elites, play fair, though the oaths of fraternity these two brothers honor supersede the demands of the so-called rule of law.