The alternative media is officially dead. Although hundreds of independent newspapers flourished in the late 1960s, most did not survive the 1970’s and those that did were absorbed into the corporate media system, becoming editorially hollow advertising cash cows while they lasted. The whole point of creating your own newspaper in the 1960s was because all the media were spewing status-quo propaganda. Even now, with the internet dismantling print media and offering unlimited options for serving content, the so-called “alternative” news sites never question the pathetic official 9/11 story or suggest a CIA/Mafia/Pentagon/Texas Oil Cartel conspiracy murdered JFK.
The op to disarm and dismantle the counterculture media was prolonged and the battle took place on many fronts. I started my own newspaper in 1968 in Urbana, Illinois, and was swiftly targeted by a State Narcotics Task Force, who set me up on bogus charges, while rousting me out of high school in handcuffs and shaming my parents at the local country club. That was one of the fronts: round up and imprison the alpha male founders of the alternative media.
I’d hung an Eldridge Cleaver for President poster in my second floor bedroom window and then went downstairs to see how it looked from the street. I’ll never forget my dad’s reaction to seeing that poster while he was hitting his practice golf ball in the side yard. Man, he took off full speed and ripped that poster out of the window and told me never to do that again. He said it sent the wrong message to our neighbors and we’d just recently moved into the neighborhood.
Funny how back in the day many of the brightest journalists wanted to get into investigative reporting. The Washington Post, a propaganda tool of the CIA decided to capture the center of energy on investigative journalism so they served up Nixon, maybe because he gave some of the stolen gold the Japanese had hidden in the Philippines back to China to buy his detente move. For whatever reason, Yale graduate Bob Woodward, a spook and secret bisexual, was transformed into a Knight in Shining Armor to lead the charge of investigators everywhere…..that’s a second front. Use your inside position to manufacture fake whistle blowers who initially release real solid info to establish credentials, but quickly switch to some absurd rabbit hole, like we never landed on the moon, lizard shape-shifting aliens rule the world, chemtrails, Elvis is alive, or Sandy Hook never happened.
I get the feeling the current generation of journalists cringe at the mere mention of 9/11. Although they realize the system is rigged by corrupt politics hidden from view, they also realize showing interest in that corruption is a sure way to end a promising journalism career. Since a handful of companies own the entire system, if you want a job (and jobs are really hard to find), better not be rocking the boat.
Of course, back in the late 1960s, you could rent a 4-bedroom house in Urbana for $150 a month, and work a minimum wage job and survive. But during the last fifty years, the system has evolved to extract increasing amounts of profit from every aspect of our lives. Womb to tomb, we are mined for profit, and most people work themselves silly just keeping their heads above water at this point, and after 30 years don’t possess a secure retirement, since all it takes is a medical problem, divorce, firing, or lawsuit to wipe you out.
Unfortunately, at this stage of the game, it’s virtually impossible for any truly honest underground media to emerge, because even if it did, it would be quickly penetrated and subverted, which is probably what happens to any big internet companies. In one form or another, The Octopus comes a knocking at your door, offers a deal you can’t refuse: play ball and become rich beyond your wildest dreams, or go rouge and and run the risk of getting whacked or busted down to nothing. The CIA and Sicilian Men of Honor are just two tentacles connected to this gigantic beast run by old money. For this class of people, war is a game rigged for milking profits and best played when both sides are funded by the same banks.
I’m currently available for hire to any media company interested in my brand of journalism as I recently got divorced from High Times. I specialize in conspiracy research and counterculture history. Marijuana, in case you didn’t know it, is a conspiracy story, because why else would the world’s most beneficial plant be outlawed everywhere, except through a massive conspiracy?


Get ready for a blizzard of disinfo on Karl Pierson, our latest instant media celebrity, who just attempted to murder his high school debate coach for the crime of kicking him off the debate team, and then shot himself in his high school, and thereby terrorized us all with his voyage to the depths of the dark side. People like David Icke and Alex Jones will immediately try to connect him to some mind control project, but that will likely be a rabbit hole diversion to nowhere because I’ve never found any evidence of CIA or FBI involvement in any school shootings, although tracks of those agencies are all over the JFK assassination, 9/11, and the Boston Bombings.
Maybe you think banks own themselves, but, in fact, our biggest banks are owned by a small group of investment companies, a concentration of power likely beyond your imagination. Sadly almost nothing is known about the people who own and run these corporations or who they might be answering to (although I can assure you the banking world is peppered with spooks of all stripes). While headlines may talk about people like Donald Trump or the Koch Brothers, they never seem to peer very deeply into our banking system do they? But you can figure out some of this on your own because the data is available to anyone with access to the web. Just type in the name of any bank or Fortune 500 company, and the bigger they are, the more likely they’ll be owned by a combination of the companies below. Lots of people talk about the power of Goldman Sachs, but that company, for example, is owned by Capital Group, Vanguard and State Street.
After the Soho Weekly News folded, I went looking for a new place to publish my landmark 1980s uptown-downtown journalism. Ah, yes, the tawdry East Village in the 1980s, a time and place that someday may be as widely celebrated as the Summer of Love in San Francisco, because it was equally revolutionary and exciting.
Flick, Brian and I would go on to form the Soul Assassins, a legendary band from the period. We all worked at High Times at one point, and now we’ve gone in different directions, although I think all three of us are doing our best work right now. I’m tremendously impressed with Flick’s latest book, Wild, 75 Freshwater Tropical Fish of the World.
Here’s Flick’s Rainbow Trout from the Upper Missouri. You can’t really do these images justice with web shots, however. The fish literally jump off the pages and many are so colorful you wonder why anyone felt they needed to be enhanced through breeding. Even more astonishing are the prints and original watercolors Flick carries when he’s on tour. I thought I’d give you a heads up on a rare opportunity to meet a colossal talent in person.