Author: Mark Tokarski

Just a man who likes to read, argue, and occasionally be surprised.

Seventeen years after …

SBWell, it is the seventeenth anniversary of 9/11, so this has to be written. Please take time to review Kevin’s article below, The Sewing Circle (Loose Threads) as it is much more interesting than this will be.

It is time to talk about controlled demolition of seven buildings, two of which oddly formed the number 11 and that perhaps sat mostly empty for 33 years, of vicsims and rabbit holes, the devilishly clever misdirection of Dr. Steven Jones and Dr. Judy Woods and, of course, Jim Fetzer, who is not very clever but omnipresent in every fake event. All of that matters, and it needs to be discussed, especially on the anniversary …

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Afterthought: John Halliday outed as Paul, updated

I am using the original blog post posted in June of 2016 in order to bring it forward with all of the comments below intact. But I want to make some additions, and do some speculation. The first post was very short.

From this point forward I refer to the original Paul McCartney as Paul, and his replacement as Faul. I do not know their real names, so that will have to do.

First, I want to go back to the original photo that started me on the McCartney twins hunt. I call it the “Boat Photo.”

Boat photo with arrows

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Marketing 101

King Soopers

The biggest scams going in the United States these days are, of course, Obamacare and Medicare D, two racketeering enterprises where health insurance and drug manufacturers first created problems that were then “solved” by the government. But set that aside. I want to focus on a minor racket, that of grocery stores forcing us to carry “loyalty” cards so that we can “save” money when we shop.

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A piece of two hearts? (2)

[Note: Comments have been turned off on this post, accidentally.]

I had an embarrassing evening, a burst of excited energy shared with others followed by “Oops!” I eagerly contacted the other writers and a couple of friends of the blog to tell them that our work on Janis Joplin had disappeared! It had not. It was just buried under many other pieces in the blog search engine.  Following some chardonnay, I realized that I was excited for two reasons – one that someone cared enough to mess with our work, as when my Magic Bulldozer piece on Dennis Washington disappeared.

But the other was that I was going to be able to do the work again. It is the kind of stuff I really enjoy, discovery using my own talent rather than relying on others, and in the Joplin case, also that of our friend Straight. This morning, headache aside, I decided that I wanted to do the work again anyway. I have fresher insight into these matters now than two years ago when the original post, “A Piece of Two Hearts?” appeared.

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St. John’s warts

Note to readers: This post was originally published in January of 2017. Now that John McCain has, we are told, died, I think it highly inappropriate to run it again.  Ergo, I am running it again, testing the patience of the overseers.

Readers here know that presidents are selected long in advance of being elected. There must exist a pool of people being groomed at any given time. But not all make it – circumstances, maybe personality traits interfere. Hillary Clinton seemed destined for that office – something interfered. We do not know what. John McCain never made the cut, and was given up as Barack Obama’s foil in 2008, his last chance that never was a chance.

Looking back over his youth, I can see why he was at one time considered to have presidential timbre – handsome and attractive to women, photogenic, of the peerage, personable, even charming. I do not know what disqualified him – his legendary temper? Maybe just bad timing. For whatever reason, John McCain was chosen, but not selected.

The article below is unaltered. I cringe at some of the photo work, but take ownership anyway. I stand by my original conclusion: John McCain was never a POW, and never went anywhere near harm’s way. He was, after all, peerage, and the son of an Admiral.

Below the fold is the original piece. Comments are left intact.

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Welcome Gaia!

Our friend Gaia as agreed to come on board as a writer, and will be posting articles soon, perhaps over the weekend. He just emailed me that a monster storm had taken out Internet for his town, but he is back online again. I look forward to his work. I have assured him that I am not looking over his or anyone’s shoulders. I have been so busy that it is a relief to have him and the others aboard.

Blog Appearance: Next week I am going to make sure that Gaia and Annette have their space over on the left side – it is a program called “CSS” that I must use to do that, and I have good instructions from WordPress on how to do it, so both of them will soon be there on the left-hand side. Problem is, every time I have tried it so far, I have made a mess.

In the meantime, a friend of the blog suggested I update the Paul McCartney/John Halliday post and bring it current with comments intact. It is generating a lot of current interest. I will do that. I also have plans to write a post that links every interesting story we have done here over these past few years, a way for new readers to get immersed and caught up. That too will happen soon, and that link will be at the top of the blog.

In the meantime, welcome Gaia!

Jonestown: Not so remote after all

The complete five-part Jonestown series:
Jim Jones: The Fake early years
Jonestown: Introduction
Jonestown: More Questions than answers
Jonestown: Not so remote after all
Jonestown: The end

When I was researching the Waco “massacre,” a light went on – that the buildings were empty, and that the whole thing was just a TV show. I laughed out loud with that realization. With Columbine, the little light told me that the SWAT unit that was mobilized was there to keep people out of the school, and not to interfere with anything inside. It was a made-for-TV-news event.

A light has gone on about Jonestown, but it is faint. Please follow along.

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How Mom saved me

I know I have to write about Jonestown, and I will. But my mind has been occupied lately, the class reunion playing a part. I was thinking back on an episode I call “How mom saved my life.”

It was 1960. I was the youngest of four boys, ten years old. I am the only survivor. At that age I did not have a large enough world to know things were wrong. We were a strong Catholic family, and I attended a Catholic school. That’s important to know. We were sitting at the dinner table, and Mom got up and announced “I am not going to mass again until your Dad quits drinking.”

I looked over at Dad at the end of the table, and for the first time in my life realized he was drunk. What Mom was doing was blackmail, of course, and in the subsequent years I would think of it as melodrama. She was telling Dad that he was responsible for her eternal soul, laying the burden on him.

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A reunion

Too much time on the highway and in motels results in stuff like this. We are back now – I didn’t want to say anything, but might as well spit it out – I attended my fiftieth high school class reunion. I graduated from Billings Central Catholic High School in 1968. Good lord am I old!

A few reflections:

  • I look pretty good. Most of my classmates have put on pounds and have not stayed in shape. I guess we just reach a point where we give up, but I have not yet gotten there. I still have dark hair, have controlled my weight, and work out often.
  • We were a class of 115. Thirteen have died.
  • My class rank was 87, and I like to joke that for that reason I thought our class size must have been … 87. I was not a good student, and did not light up until later, in college. I was told by teachers that I lacked direction, and that my standardized tests were in the high percentiles, so that I was underachieving.

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