Category: Fake deaths

I won’t mess around with Jim (Croce)

Long ago there was a singer, Jim Croce, who (supposedly) wrote and (actually) performed some catchy tunes – this was in an era when melody was important, and jacking up the background noise in recordings was not yet being done. Here is one that is fairly typical of his output, Time in a Bottle:

 

That type of music actually played and sold as “rock and roll” even as it is a classic ballad. He was not a terribly good singer, that is, lacked vocal range.

I never thought much about Croce. Here is what is interesting: In reading about his death on September 20, 1973, it appears to have been real! The only spook markers are 9/20 (=11) and the aircraft being a Beech 18 (=9=3*3). I have not seen 9/20 used in that fashion before, but have not looked for it either. He and four others were taking off from Natchitoches Regional Airport in Louisiana when their plane hit a tree. All were killed. I could look into the matter further, but in 2019 I am not going to mess around with Jim.

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Commenters – Buddy Lives! Lighten up!

For reasons I do not understand, a post that I wrote in May of 2016 is getting lots of hits and comments, most of which are unprintable. We have 1,032 followers on this blog, not by any means a large number. It is, however, enough that attention has been drawn to the Weird Scenes in Clear Lake post where I insinuate, and then state outright in a footnote, that Buddy Holly’s 2/3/1959 death was faked, long with Richie Valens and “The Big Bopper.”

I am wondering, given the low quality of most of the comments that have come in, if this is the the geratric set, aging fans of the former idol. The writing is childish and the anger at me deep and passionate. Here’s an example from this morning:

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The sensuous Matt Damon

Julia 2DenverI was just browsing the other day, wasting my time, when I ran across the photo seen here of Julia Roberts. Something struck me as odd … was I looking at a slight widow’s peak? That shit-eating grin – I have seen that before. Where? Was it this guy, seen to the right? No – that’s John Denver. He had (has) the s/e grin, but his mouth did not go full-on wide like Julia’s. Where have I seen this? Whose smile is so big that it practically touches his ears?

Then it hit me. We have stumbled on another member of the club, the Matt Damon Batch.

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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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Eva Perón: Another shoe drops

This post is written to accomplish three objectives.

  1. I needed to satisfy myself that the actor known as “Eva Perón” was indeed one person, and not a composite. I went looking for twins and body doubles.
  2. I needed to understand who the second “mother” was in the Ciccone family photographs. It took a second set of eyes, those of Richard once more, to solve that mystery.
  3. I need to put this project to bed and get on with my life. Here’s hoping.

As to the use of names like “Eva Perón, “Silvio Ciccone,” “Madonna Fortin,” and of course, the singer known as “Madonna,” we have no idea who they are or what their real names are. I use those labels for convenience, nothing more. All the world’s a stage.

So off we go once more. You might be surprised, no, shocked, at Richard’s discovery. Continue reading “Eva Perón: Another shoe drops” →

About those photos …

Waxy face

The above photo has been sitting here on my computer for maybe two years. It comes from the days when I was deceiving myself into thinking that twins were all about us. But it still bugs me. It is said to be Taylor Swift with her parents. The problem is that Swift looks like a mannequin. Below the fold is another photo of Swift.

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Eva Peron: The plot thickens

Below are photos of Paul McCartney (1959) who performed live with the Beatles in the 1960s, Mike McCartney (1957) who stepped in and out of “Paul’s” shoes, and eventually became the permanent Paul McCartney we know today.

1957 1959

I can easily tell them apart. Others, including facial recognition expert Joelle Steele, insist they are the same person. The reason, I suppose, is career-related. If she were to assert two Paul’s, she’d never be called upon to offer expert testimony again. I am not calling her a liar, but do know that evidence is often tainted by the need to make a living. But for most other people, recognition of two different people is hard because of the glassy-eyed manner in which they view the world, never really stopping to both think and examine evidence. It is what they are told it is. Continue reading “Eva Peron: The plot thickens” →

Eva Perón: The Rest of the Story

Evita lived on in the material world

Back in the day, when Straight was still here, we bounced from one discovery to another. The zombie matter was of great interest. Rarely did a day go by that I did not get an email from him suggesting I look into this or that person. The man has great instincts. He tired of the work, wanting to live in a more positive sphere. I get that, and wish him well, always. For me, just as I loved to curl up with Sherlock Holmes as a kid, I love the work I do here and would not trade it for journalism in any form. This is honest and rewarding work.

DSCN16935FBA7736-804C-4B63-B6E4-5C7CF15875A8There have not been too many new discoveries since Straight left, though I have moved far afield of facial analysis. But I do have my eye out. Thus it was that my wife suggested we visit La Recoleta Cemetery while in Buenos Aires with two crypts in mind: That of Liliana Crociati de Szaszak, a young woman killed in an avalanche in Switzerland (left), and Eva Perón, or Evita (right).

I knew very little about Evita other than that movie from 1995 and the Weber/Rice Broadway musical with its associated ear worms. I did not care for most of the movie but enjoyed the opening number in which Madonna sang Buenos Aires, train providing the percussion. The rest was not memorable for me, and anyway, what the hell was Che Guevara doing there? He seemed to be an anachronism. (He was put there for a reason, no doubt, but we can only guess.*)

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9/11/73

AllendeIn years past on this blog on the anniversary of the 9/11 event I would put up a memorial post, a trick. I would talk all sad and disturbed about the events of 9/11, but only reveal a the end that I was actually talking about 9/11/1973 and the removal of Salvador Allende from office as President of Chile.

Little did I realize as I wrote those posts that use of the date 9/11 was a signal to the world that we were dealing with a fake event. For those not up to speed on numerical markers, the numbers 8, 11 and 33 seem important to the spooks who stage public hoaxes, almost like a signature. The number 9 is a way of saying 33, that is, it is 3*3, so that 9/11 is really 33 and 11 side by side. But it gets better – in a non-leap year, September 11 is the 254th day of the year, and 2+5+4 = 11. It’s a double whammy.

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Eva Perón, a fairy tale life

Don’t cry for me Argentina, the truth is I never left you …

We are in Buenos Aires and soon to return home. I don’t normally use the blog for travelogue purposes, but this seems appropriate. While here we visited the La Recoleta Cemetery, a place where wealthy people are entombed. It is perhaps a thousand crypts, all elaborate beyond the pale. One of them is for the Duarte family and is said to house the body of Eva Perón, or Evita. The words from the song above are oddly a statement of fact, truth hidden in plain sight. Eva Perón did not die in 1952.

On plaques at the tomb I was able to calculate her age of death as 30, July 26, 1952. 7/26 is a spook number, adding up to both 8 and 33, but I thought perhaps a death at age 30 might be real. Later I learned that her real age at death was also 33, that she or someone had forged her birth certificate to give her credentials as a Duarte, also making her three years younger in the process.

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Continue reading “Eva Perón, a fairy tale life” →