Frank Olson was a talented chemist who got recruited into developing chemical and germ weapons for the Army. Among his many projects, he helped place an LSD-like substance into an aerosol that was covertly sprayed on a small town in France, resulting in seven deaths and 50 people hospitalized in psyche wards. Olson was involved with the CIA’s MK/Ultra group that deployed drugs and hypnosis to manufacture mind slaves. As the Cold War progressed, however, and the CIA began secretly using chemical and germ weapons on North Korea, Olson began having doubts about the secret experiments at Fort Detrick, Maryland, which is why he stepped down as the head of the Special Operations Group, although he continued working in the lab as a subordinate.
Olson’s colleagues at CIA were sufficiently alarmed to arrange an intervention disguised as a holiday retreat to determine his potential as a security risk. During this retreat, Olson may have refused to recant certain statements, which may have been made while under the influence of a glass of Cointreau secretly laced with LSD. When he returned home, he confessed to his wife on having made a “a terrible mistake.” Believing his job and future were in jeopardy, Olson requested to be fired and/or threatened to submit his resignation, naively believing the Army would let him walk away carrying many of their biggest secrets. Instead, a few days later, they had two operatives club Olson unconscious before throwing him out of a 13-story window across from Penn Station in New York City, November 28, 1953.
The original story told was incoherent. Olson had either jumped or fallen accidentally, and even though a co-worker was in the room at the time (apparently locked inside the bathroom), he could offer no clues as to motive or circumstances. Olson’s son Eric was 9-years-old when his father died, and would devote most of his life unraveling what happened, a voyage that took him deep into the rabbit holes of the wilderness of mirrors. Eventually, in the 1970s, a new narrative was released by the CIA after Olson had his father’s corpse exhumed and found evidence of murder. Now the CIA admitted they had covertly dosed Olson with LSD and caused a nervous breakdown. President Ford invited the family to the White House to apologize and soon a $750,000 check was handed over, provided the family signed an agreement not to sue for wrongful death. Part of this op was the sudden arrival of Seymour Hersh from the New York Times playing role of knight-in-shining-armor. Hersh’s long and celebrated career as the preeminent CIA whistleblower is rooted in protecting CIA sources, and his reach the uppermost realms of the agency.
I wrote about this case for High Times years ago when Hank Albarelli’s illuminating book, A Terrible Mistake, was first published by Trine Day, and even called Eric for some quotes at the time because I found him such an inspirational figure. For decades Eric has refused to accept the layers of lies and has relentlessly pursued evidence with his brilliant spotlight mind. And he did find the truth, although it did not bring closure.
Like Eric, I’ve had my own obsession over the decades about the CIA, only mine involves their murder of John Kennedy, while his involves the murder of his dad. Both murders, however, were ordained and executed by the same people. And despite cracking these cases, neither of us has found closure, probably because those same forces are running the secret government and our voices are too faint to have impact. Maybe this Netflix series Wormwood will have some impact, however. We can certainly hope.
Netflix is making some of the best films these days, and this one makes a great companion to their recent miniseries Manhunt: Unibomber, which deftly illustrates how a teenage math prodigy was sculpted into a serial killer at Harvard through MK/Ultra experiments. One is a docudrama and the other a feature, but they both take viewers on a voyage deep into the heart of intel ops. In both cases, MK/Ultra techniques for hostile interrogation designed to splinter personalities and destroy egos was deployed with tragic results.
I remember years ago when I met some academic friends of my father who’d been studying CIA involvement in drug trafficking, mostly by reading Counterpunch. “Yeah,” I said, “but you realize Counterpunch is likely MI6. You have to peel another layer off the onion.” From there I launched into my theories on how the Illuminati manufactures war-for-profit through secret societies and intelligence agencies, and urged them not to fall for the dialectical games or the phony knights-in-shining-armor, for these knights are really gatekeepers. They believed what I was saying, but were also quite saddened. “Does knowing all this make your life better or worse?” they wondered. As Eric Olson knows all too well. The truth is a bitter pill.
There’s a feature documentary on the Black Panthers on Netflix that covers a lot of important ground, although I can’t help but notice some significant facts were strangely left out of the script. I didn’t realize until I watched this that the overwhelming bulk of COINTELPRO activity was focused directly on the Panthers, who had become the younger generation’s most influential and charismatic force for change. When I was 15, I bought a black, double-breasted lambskin jacket and took it off as little as possible. Soon, I would be living in the Berkeley flats, just a few blocks from the Panther birthplace.
The original concept had been to monitor police radio traffic and respond to police activity in an effort to stem the tide of police violence against blacks in Oakland. For this mission they were heavily armed. However, soon the Panthers would be feeding kids free breakfasts and would put down the weapons and issue a ten-point program that wanted an end to police violence as well as the draft. The Panthers pioneered the idea that education, housing, food and health care should be free to anyone who couldn’t afford it.
One of the primary missions of COINTELPRO was to work divisions inside the Panthers, and pit leaders against each other. So the first big split occurred over the issue of weapons and need for violent revolution. Obviously, the FBI wanted the Panthers to be as violent as possible. The strategy for turning Panthers violent may have involved handing out gobs of free cocaine and turning them into addicts. There was only one other organization on the same level of prominence as the Panthers at the time, and that was Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), so simultaneous missions were undertaken to turn both organizations violent to justify a police crackdown. The easiest way to neutralize a revolution is to outflank the revolution on the left and lead it farther and farther left until all support from the populace at large disappears. This is essentially what happened with the Panthers and the SDS.
The SDS was destroyed through the creation of the Weather Underground, a violent splinter group that was no doubt a project of the national security state. The Weather Underground took their name from a Bob Dylan song during a time the CIA feared Dylan might ignite a revolution, so Dylan was being closely monitored and he withdrew from public view no doubt in order to escape the multiple ops and scams being run against him. The purpose of the Weather Underground was inciting violence against police. They killed a few on their own to spark the confrontation.
When Fred Hampton successfully merged the Panthers, the Young Lords and the SDS in Chicago, he instantly emerged as the greatest revolutionary leader in America, and was offered the position of national director of the Panthers. Fred came up with a name for the new group he was assembling: The Rainbow Coalition. But Fred was swiftly assassinated, and his rainbow legacy passed off and watered-down by deep state operative Jesse Jackson.
Obviously, the documentary covers Fred’s assassination in detail, but the most important clues were strangely left out. The police who murdered Fred while he was sleeping were the same officers who had years earlier been sent to interview a former Marine involved in a plot to assassinate JFK in Chicago. Both officers ended up rising rapidly through the ranks: Daniel Groth and Peter Schurla. Had that Chicago plot succeeded, the name Lee Harvey Oswald would have been replaced by Thomas Arthur Vallee, who was one of Oswald’s dopplegangers as he was posted at the same base in Japan, one notorious for MK/Ultra experiments. Vallee was a member of the John Birch Society and (like Oswald) had affiliations with Cuban mercenaries.
What’s interesting is not that some CIA-connected cops shot up Fred Hampton, but that the crime scene was bizarrely left wide open and unguarded and the first person to arrive was Bernadine Dorhn (real last name: Ornstein), the first student organizer hired by the National Lawyer’s Guild, a Communist organization infiltrated, if not supervised, by operatives of the deep security state. Dorhn led Chicago press on a guided tour and correctly identified the scene not as a gun battle (as asserted by the police), but as a one-sided massacre. Media coverage was deployed around the country to incite the counterculture peace movement into supporting an open season on cops as the best response to Fred’s death, while scaring the rest of the country into thinking a civil war was becoming imminent.
None of this unfolded by accident. The reason the crime scene was not secured was to allow Dohrn to deploy Fred’s assassination as her springboard to national fame and assist the National Lawyer’s Guild takeover of the non-violent SDS. Soon Dohrn would be feeding gobs of LSD to dozens of recruits while forcing them into group orgies.
I was fired by High Times for requesting a small raise to cover the cost of my kid’s braces ($250 per month). At the time my take-home pay did not even cover the rent on my apartment, and I had a disabled family member I was taking care of that required an additional location, and was a single dad with two kids. They dismissed any possible raise, even though the cannabis cup I created was making millions, and the magazine circulation had shrank to unprofitablity without my leadership. This angered me so much that I requested a buy out on the ten percent of the company I owned. They said, see what you can get. I got four offers at $250k per share, half my shares. High Times fired me, threatened me with litigation, seized all my archives, and forced me to give up the shares for less than a quarter on the dollar. And then they didn’t even honor the bullshit deal.
Why was I so angry at High Times? Mostly because I’d recently got back from lunch with the head of Lion’s Gate and his top execs and they had greenlighted a $2-million movie called High Times Cannabis Cup, and after that lunch, Lion’s Gate hired a screenwriter, who met with me and the producers, and wrote a brilliant script that was a comedy, yet it included all my concepts on ritual theater, and non-violence, and cannabis ceremonies, and really gave props to the Temple Dragon Crew, and the Temple Dragon Band, and used the candles in the film. This was going to be my vindication after being chained in a cellar for seven years by High Times, only High Times squashed the film by saying they had to take out the Temple Dragons and all their magic. They couldn’t even respect my humble little attempt to tell the world that the true story of the holy grail involves cannabis.
Rainbow Farm was something of a watershed for me, the end of the four-year trail trying to manifest a cannabis festival that could rival Woodstock.
The mission had begun with a trip to visit Ken Babbs of the Merry Pranksters. “I’m thinking about calling it the World Hemp Expo Extravaganja,” I said. “That’s great,” said Babbs, “but you should just call it Whee!” That’s when a lot of stuff clicked in my head and I realized the vibe we were really trying to scout was fun, and I endeavored to manifest the world’s most fun festival possible, and I am sure in many people’s minds succeeded. Just ask Fishbone. But I was saddened to see a recent attack on the festival in the Portland Mercury, a savage piece of hippy bigotry posing as humor if ever there was, a piece that failed to mention a single ceremony, much less the amazing birth of a baby. Although it’s true the site was comically packed with people stoned out of their minds, we were used to that vortex from years of producing the Cannabis Cup in Amsterdam, and referred to the telepathic effect as “entering stonerville.” Whee just had ten times more stoners.
John Sinclair, Dennis Peron, Stephen Gaskin and Paul Krassner did a peace circle with the Rainbow Gypsies early the first day while tents were still going up. Just seeing that circle made the event for me, but there would be dozens more to follow over the weekend, some small, and some immense. I was sure we were well on our way to rebuilding the counterculture and couldn’t imagine the difficulties that lay ahead.
One significant problem was Oregon was infested with meth heads, and that scene carried a ton of bad vibes and rip-offs. The other problem was the owner of the site was way out of tune and had no respect for the Pranksters and no idea who Ken Kesey was on the cosmic scale. But after two festivals, he ended up losing the property, while fighting county officials and local law enforcement the entire time.
The next property owner to volunteer to host my event was Gideon Israel in Washington. But after one Whee, he was also taken down by a local sting operation. Gideon’s festival site was a campground called Rainbow Valley.
I made a plea at the Cannabis Cup for someone brave enough to hold a Whee! festival considering the first two were crushed by the authorities. That’s when I joined forces with Tom and Rollie of Michigan. They were the brave ones who stepped forward, only this time the authorities weren’t just taking the property. First, they had child services take away their son and refused all contact. Although a gay couple, the boy was Rollie’s child and the most important thing in their lives. And after losing the boy, they both lost their minds and decided to go down swinging.
I was in Woodstock when it all went down and had just returned to New York City. While picking up some video tape at B&H, a teller told me a plane had struck the Trade Towers. I noticed the smoke while riding my Honda Hawk across town. But when I got to my office, I was horrified to discover a string of voice messages from Tom and Rollie, the first of which announced their plan to stage a Waco-like event to bring awareness to the benefits of cannabis legalization. But as the messages went on, they became more and more frantic, until it was just Rollie. By that time, I’d already searched online and discovered they were both killed by FBI snipers. The story was already nearly a week old, but virtually nothing had penetrated the national media. And, of course, this was September 11, and a story was unfolding that would wipe Tom and Rollie’s quest for glory from the pages of history.
Fortunately, Dean Kuipers wrote a book about the event, and the book is being made into a major motion picture, so hope remains alive Tom and Rollie’s quest for martyrdom may not have been in vain. This is a difficult subject for me because it accompanied the shock of 9/11 in a massive double whammy. I had a string of people join me on my missions only to wind up in prison for a few years. But now the authorities were taking lives as well as prisoners. For years, I found it impossible to write anything about Rainbow Farm or about 9/11.
The saddest part for me was the Whee! vibe was all based around improvisational fun and peace ceremonies and learning how to foster and spread non-violence.
When I emceed the first circle to be held at Rainbow Farm, Tom came running up to join in and hold hands, an indication he really wanted to participate in peace culture.
Gatewood Galbraith, a trail-blazing attorney from Kentucky, was pushing armed revolution at the time, and may have helped hook Tom up with the spook-infested Michigan Militia, a huge mistake. I will always wonder if I’d been at work that week, would I have been able to talk Tom and Rollie out of this insane plan to create a Pot Waco? Could my participation in some way have prevented their deaths? Had I known what was going on, I would have attempted to mediate a peaceful solution when the stand-off began. I just never got the chance to play that role and it haunts me.
But you can check out that first peace circle at Rainbow Farm on a video from my archives first posted online two years before their deaths.
Long in the shadows of the great European powers, the United States emerged after WWII to command the world’s greatest economic engine centered around her merchants of steel, oil and gunpowder, aka the military-industrial complex.
The smoke of WWI had barely cleared before the Morgan-Rockefeller-DuPont axis began fomenting an even bigger boom-and-bang. Right after the “war to end all wars,” IG Farben was manifested through John Foster Dulles’ magic wand (and some massive Wall Street loans). The company was designed as a European mirror of Standard Oil, which was owned by Dulles’ cousin by marriage (the recently deceased David Rockefeller). Farben swiftly transformed into the dominant cartel in Europe, as well as Hitler’s biggest booster. Perhaps best remembered for its creation of a petrochemical poison known as Zyklon B (designed originally for insect infestations, and later deployed to exterminate “useless eaters,” i.e. Jews, gypsies, communists, homosexuals, disabled, etc.), Farben conducted business with Standard Oil throughout the hostilities.
Although the corporation was split into pieces after the war (much like Standard Oil was divided by anti-trust laws), one of Farben’s divisions now owns Monsanto, leading to speculation on who won the peace.
Elements of the Nazi empire were secretly imported into the USA to construct NASA and the CIA, among other projects. NASA was built on the back of German rocket science and the CIA was built on the back of the Gestapo science, some of which seems to have involved forbidden substances and mass mind control. Despite promises never to engage in operations on native soil, the CIA immediately corrupted our media, banking system and major universities, while launching a mind-control program known as MK/Ultra that mixed hypnosis with LSD in the hopes of creating robot slaves.
In 1963, the CIA asserted their dominance by assassinating President John F. Kennedy while deploying Nazi and MK/Ultra assets during the planning, execution and cover-up. There are numerous dirty secrets held close to the vest, but JFK’s murder remains the CIA’s most worrisome secret, and through the decades they’ve launched a thousand memes to divide, misdirect and confuse anyone attempting to penetrate the truth. This blog concerns one of those memes, a spoof religion called Discordianism.
Meet the founder: Gregory Hill. Aside aside from the name, however, virtually nothing is known and it took decades for the name to emerge because he was known only as Malaclypse the Younger. (And who knows if Greg Hill is a real name anyway.) However, we do know some details on Hill’s sidekick and co-conspirator, Kerry Thornley, who was in boot camp with Lee Harvey Oswald. In hindsight it seems possible Hill’s real bio might contain some link to military intelligence, just as Thornley and Oswald may have been subjected to MK/Ultra experiments. The duo were forever entwined after the assassination. Thornley helped concoct a clever brew of fact and fantasy to create the CIA’s original Tin Foil Hat Patrol, and spread a cloud of chaos over the case, one that has defined the spook-infested world of conspiracy theory. Thornley became an important witness for the Warren Commission, providing evidence Oswald was devoted to the communist cause. You see, it was very important a communist kill Kennedy.
You can tell by the photo Thornley was a flower child influenced by the Beats, Merry Pranksters and Maynard G. Krebs, among others. But after his Warren Commission testimony, he attended at a spook-infested summer camp in Colorado popular with the Koch family, co-founders of the conspiracy-mongering John Birch Society. And upon graduation of that program moved to California to become chummy with Johnny Roselli (one of JFK’s assassins.) Thornley then moved to Atlanta and commenced a long correspondence with Robert Anton Wilson during a time Wilson was letters editor of Playboy magazine, the first and perhaps only national magazine to interview DA Jim Garrison. Garrison was a rare public official with balls enough to go up against the CIA.
Wilson was mesmerized and soon heavily influenced by Thornley’s tales of secret societies secretly running the world, a cosmology that bore similarities to the suddenly popular Morning of the Magicians, a text published in France in 1960, but released in America in 1963.
One online reviewer sums the book up thusly: “Medieval alchemists producing atomic bombs and atomic fusion3 the Nazi movement inspired by memory/dreams of Atlantis4, the Earth is hollow and we live on the inside, the Moon, Mars and Jupiter and the stars are made of ice, and three Moons have crashed into Earth5 producing great evolutionary jumps and de-evolutionary lapses, like “Gypsies, Negroes and Jews.”6
Hill and Thornley wrote a similar opus for their goof religion published in the style of an underground fanzine, a confusing mix of parody rituals, little-known Illuminati facts tossed with horror fantasies plucked out of Edward Plunkett and H.P. Lovecraft, who’d invented terrifying tales of monstrous conspiracies at the beginning of the century. Horror fantasy held a magnetic attraction in the LSD-fueled Sixties, and the higher people got, the harder it became to discern facts from fantasies, especially when so many fantasies revolved around the JFK assassination. It seems possible counterintelligence realized the Kennedy assassination could best be concealed by wrapping it inside stories of magic powers and alien visitations to deceive the gullible and lead them into the rabbit holes.
Mae Brussell came from a wealthy family, graduated from Stanford and Berkeley, and her father was a prominent rabbi in Los Angeles. She purchased all volumes of the Warren Commission as soon as available and launched a career as a radio host examining holes in the official story. Her files on the subject became as large as Mary Ferrell’s. Later, her research appeared in Paul Krassner’s Realist, and attracted the attention of John Lennon, who donated money to help publish her book. Much of the work involved Operation Paperclip and the MK/Ultra and Nazi connections to Kennedy’s assassination.
In 1977, after publishing Illuminatus!, Robert Anton Wilson was interviewed in Conspiracy Digest about the JFK assassination, the Illuminati, Aleister Crowley, UFOs and other issues. Brussell wrote a scathing response accusing Wilson, John Lilly and Timothy Leary of being CIA stooges leading the youth into a fake drug-addled utopian fantasy involving space travel. “Ask Leary or Wilson anything practical about today’s miseries and they change the subject,” she wrote.
Wilson responded by denying he was a CIA dupe, insisting he was “a high official of the agency since July 23, 1973.”
One of the primary precepts of Discordianism was never believe anything about anything, and Wilson never wavered from his roll as a Prankster-deceiver. In hindsight, however, most of the nonsense people believe today about the Illuminati has roots in his fantasy trilogy, and his work shows little evidence of scholarly research into the history of the Illuminati. Wilson believed the-eye-in-the-pyramid was an Illuminati invention and ridiculed the suggestion the society could have been a Jesuit penetration of freemasonry.
Actually that is certainly one of many valid possible explanations, not something to be ridiculed. According to Wilson, the Illuminati were “good guys” fighting against royalty and religion, and not some devious intelligence operation deploying ends-justify-the-means morality codes. Wilson introduced the idea that the number 23 was an Illuminati concept (it never was) and usually insisted the society had died out shortly after being founded. He believed Oswald shot Kennedy and Garrison’s investigation was a fraud.
Wilson’s biggest contribution to Discordianism was called Operation Mindfuck or OM, and involved disturbing a person’s reality matrix with some mindblowing conspiracy information and then trailing off into some make-believe maze of confusion. Life as zen koan wherein any sufficiently ambiguous answer works for any question whatsoever. If you ever got really high on psychedelics and had friends fuck with your head, you’ll recognize the sadistic underpinnings of Operation Mindfuck, and how it runs contrary to real investigations into conspiracies.
Within a few years, however, Antony Sutton published a factual book revealing how Yale University’s Order of Skull & Bones deploys remarkably similar rituals as the original Illuminati, and the Bonesman have successfully penetrated the upper levels of the CIA, investment banks and military industrial complex. Prescott Bush was a Bonesman and also acted as Hitler’s banker on Wall Street to the point of being chastised for trading with the enemy after the war. The society was created prior to the Civil War by the heir to the American opium cartel after visiting Southern Germany and based off a secret fraternity he’d been inducted into while there. After establishing Bones, he became the biggest financial backer of John Brown, the terrorist who sparked the Civil War’s armed confrontation. No, this is not some Operation Mindfuck going down, just some simple truths that most people have yet to digest.
Brussell, in the meantime, was not up on Sutton’s research. Instead she began making outrageous claims, connecting dots that probably didn’t connect, accusing almost every celebrity death of being orchestrated by the CIA for some nefarious purpose, much the same way every school shooting is instantly branded a fake event by today’s Tin Foil Hat Patrol. Brussell claimed there were immense assassination plots to derail youth culture and claimed Charles Manson was a Manchurian Candidate under hypnotic control.
However, when Krassner began checking out her evidence for a potential book on Manson, it didn’t add up. Krassner suffered a paranoid meltdown at his dentist’s office and soon departed the plains of conspiracy theory.
Meanwhile, Karl Koch was the son of a right-wing publisher in Germany, and he began rebelling against his dad as a teen. Karl had an early interest in computers as well as a fascination with the Illuminatus! Trilogy, claiming to have read the book 30 times. Karl may have been Wilson’s biggest fan and the two met briefly at a hacker convention. Karl was especially taken with the magic number 23 and seems to have swallowed Wilson’s imaginative suggestion that George Washington could have been assassinated and replaced by Adam Weishaupt, something based solely on a slight resemblance between the two men and the fact the eye-in-the-triangle appears on US currency (even though Weishaupt never used that symbol). Of course it was all OM and Karl got mindfucked.
Despite operating with only a primitive Commodore 64, Karl successfully penetrated a number of military-industrial websites around the world and sold passwords and other information to the KGB to the tune of tens of thousands of dollars, a connection established by his cocaine dealers. Most of the money he earned from hacking flowed back into the dealers’ hands. Karl descended into a paranoid cocaine-induced psychosis for a while. Meantime the German authorities offered up a hacker’s amnesty in order to crack the subculture and Karl took the offer, but was soon found in a forest, burnt to a crisp. Strangely, his death was ruled a suicide, but a more likely explanation is the drug dealers killed him in retaliation for going state’s evidence.
In the mid-1960s, there were thousands of kids like me who weren’t quite fitting in. We became noticeable right away when we stopped cutting our hair. In the mid-Sixties males were expected to sport looks straight out of Marine Corps boot camp, so bangs or even ducktails were radical, much less hair over the ears. We skipped school often as possible and got into trouble due to our bad attitude concerning authority. But there was a mecca beckoning to us from across the sea, a heaven-on-earth called Summerhill, a boarding school in England with no grades, no bells, and no rules, run by students, who were allowed to do whatever they pleased all day long. Founded by a psychologist in 1921, the school proved children flourish when provided with tools and access to educational materials, and they learn faster on their own when immersed in subjects over long periods. Today, I realize Summerhill isn’t that far off from home schooling, although in the Sixties few realized home schooling was an option. In case you didn’t know, it’s been proven home schooling works better than traditional schooling.
Suddenly, hundreds of attempts at Summerhill “freedom” schools were launched, some of which survive to this day. Our established school methodology of constantly ringing bells and rotating subjects on the hour seems to have been devised in Germany for the purpose of conditioning youth to happily accept a meager factory environment and always obey authority for the remainder of their lives. Strangely, it seems possible some Summerhill experiments could have been experiments in mind control, which would be the exact opposite of what A.S. Neill had intended.
Bill Ayers was a rich kid in Chicago who attended the Lake Forest Academy before graduating from the University of Michigan in 1968. He joined the SDS in college and upon graduation went straight to The Children’s Community, a recently-created Summerhill-type school in Ann Arbor. Almost immediately, he was named director of this school. His girlfriend Diana Oughton worked there too. She was from an even more privileged upbringing than Ayers, and his upbringing was pretty swank. She’d recently spent a summer in Germany, where she was apparently “radicalized.”
These two swiftly become the leaders of the violent Weather Underground, which has all the markings of a counterintelligence operation designed to destroy the student youth movement by driving it toward violence. And that wasn’t easy to do since the student youth movement was almost universally non-violent at the time. By the late 1960s, this movement had become centered on stopping the war in Vietnam, but it had begun by supporting the Civil Rights movement and the growing realization among the young that racism was a serious problem being overlooked. The freedom school movement of the 1960s was the first large-scale attempt to integrate schools, so the most intense opposition came from racists.
Soon, however, Oughton would blow herself up while fashioning a bomb intended to be set-off at Fort Dix, a shrapnel device designed to murder dozens of cadets and their dates at a social dance. This unplanned explosion in a ritzy Greenwich Village townhouse was the only surfacing of the Weather Underground since they had declared war against America and gone underground. Suppose a group of students today announced war on the United States and started murdering innocent people? How much support would they achieve? Somehow these rich kids from privileged backgrounds joined forces with America’s known enemies in anticipation of a coming Communist revolution they claimed would leave millions murdered or put inside Stalinist concentration camps. It would have been laughable had they not been able to supply so much C4 and automatic weapons to so many psychopaths, or had they not garnered dozens of mind controlled robots, all of whom were gradually reprogrammed during LSD-fueled sex orgies, or had they not generated so many contributions from within the National Lawyers Guild.
What I find interesting is the CIA and FBI were terrified of a rise of a black messiah capable of uniting the Civil Rights and student youth movements. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X were both obviously assassinated for this reason, and in the wake of those assassinations, an activist named Fred Hampton emerged in Chicago, someone who created the phrase “rainbow coalition.”
Pretty soon, however, Hampton was assassinated while sleeping in bed, and the next morning Bernadine Dohrn gave press tours of the killing zone while deploying the event as her fulcrum to drive the SDS toward violence as the logical response. Her instant appearance on the scene and manipulation of information that day should be viewed as a possible counterintelligence psyop anointing Dorhn as Hampton’s successor, much the same way Jesse Jackson was anointed immediately after the murder of King.
Dohrn was soon portraying psychopath Charlie Manson as her culture hero, while Ayers was doing the same thing for Sirhan Sirhan. It should be noted Dohrn attended the prestigious University of Chicago and became the first student organizer for the spook-infested National Lawyers Guild.
After Oughton’s death, Ayers and Dorhn became the ruling couple inside the Weather Underground, and they remained in hiding for decades, living in beachfront homes under fake IDs. But after Watergate, when Cointelpro’s illegal activities were unveiled, all records of the Weather Underground’s devious alliances with America’s enemies were suddenly scrubbed from all FBI offices, while Ayers and Dorhn moved swiftly into tenured positions at major universities.
Since every counterculture-leaning grad student with long hair was sacked during the Sixties, it’s hard to fathom how our highly conservative education system would give high-paying salaries and pensions to two admitted terrorists who’d been responsible for hundreds of bombings and numerous deaths, several of which involved law enforcement officers. Unless, of course, Ayers and Dohrn were spooks all along, which seems the most logical explanation.
There’s another thread to this story that involves the history of freedom schools in America, as well as my old friend Don Henderson, who was sent to one of the earliest freedom schools in Florida, a school located through Paul Krassner’s Realist magazine.
“Did you know about Rev. George Von Hilsheimer’s background in military intelligence when you met him?” I asked Paul recently.
“No,” was the terse reply. “I remember I did fund his operations for a while though.”
Shortly after the Realist transformed Krassner into an important influencer and surveyer of the emerging zeitgeist, Krassner was visited by an energetic fellow with aspirations of becoming an influencer for the counterculture generation himself. He’d already established himself as minister in a religion of his own devising when he came up with the idea of establishing an American version of Summerhill and enlisted Krassner’s support.
Interestingly, if you believe what you read on the Internet, Hilsheimer had previously been posted to military intelligence in Berlin. Krassner had recently begun acting as a referral service for women seeking doctors willing to give abortions, so spooks and subpoenas were raining down on him.
Hilsheimer convinced Krassner to fund the school to the tune of around $50 a month, and deployed the magazine to recruit students and staff. His first attempt (Camp Summerlane, Rosman, North Carolina) ended with the entire camp fleeing in terror from gunshots and explosions instigated by the local townspeople, who’d been enraged by rumors of nude swimming in the lake. Or maybe it was the inclusion of one girl who was half-black on the student roster. The town attack took place on July 11, 1963.
There were a few schools through the decades, up and down the East Coast, but in 1973, Hilsheimer was arrested by Volusia County deputy sheriffs and charged with practicing medicine without a license at his Green Valley School for emotionally disturbed children in Orange City, Florida. The charges were dropped after a raid of the property was deemed improper by the state attorney’s office. So Hilsheimer skipped (just like Ayers and Dohrn).
Meanwhile, kids from the school have come forth over the years with tales of hypnosis, forced injections, electroshock, psychic dreaming, sex with adults, rampant drug use and other weirdness…
“The place was supposed to be a school for troubled kids but it was really a dumping ground for kids who were too much trouble to their parents. The place was crazy – drugs, prostitution, spaced-out “teachers” that had sex with some of the kids and / or supplied them with dope – something out of a nightmare. For me, the problem is that there are folk who think Green Valley was some sort of countercultural utopia. Either nobody knew, or they’re not willing to acknowledge, what an insane place it was.” Former student commenting online
On November 22, almost all attention in Dealey Plaza was fixed on the President and First Lady as they rode slowly through the plaza in Dallas at under ten miles per hour. Only four claimed to have glimpsed a gunman in a window of the Texas School Book Depository, and not all agreed which window. But because this territory is so salted with spooks and rabbit holes, you never know whom to trust, if anyone. The youngest and most believable witness, however, was a 15-year-old named Amos Eunis who led the police at the scene to start searching the School Book Depository after seeing a man fire twice from its corner window.
Amos heard four shots that day, and was certain two had been fired by a bald-headed man in the southeast corner of the 6th floor. He saw a reflection off the head when the gunman leaned forward to take his second shot. The fact he could not identify any other characteristics may have saved Amos’s life for had he gotten a good look at the shooter’s face, he would have known it wasn’t Oswald, who was downstairs finishing his lunch. Many inconvenient witnesses died prematurely, the first wave right after the event and another when Garrison began his investigation.
Twenty-six years ago, when I began researching a cover story for High Times magazine on the assassination, the most illuminating book I discovered was Wilderness of Mirrors by David Martin, my first real look inside the CIA. The book revealed Bill Harvey and Johnny Roselli had been working with Ted Shackley and David Morales on a plot to assassinate Fidel Castro, a project halted by the Kennedy brothers.
My immediate suspicion upon reading the book was that Harvey’s executive action project diverted to hit JFK after the President demoted Harvey, who had a purple hatred of both Kennedy brothers. When RFK suggested he could train some infiltrators on his estate, Harvey had snorted: “Train them as what? Babysitters?” Harvey, on the other hand, was the CIA’s most gung-ho, boom-and-bang cowboy, an assassin with many notches already on his gun, and certainly dreamed of killing JFK. Harvey had a serious drinking problem and issues with rage. The CIA takes orders from the National Security Council, which is chaired by the President. But what if the council decides the president is a threat to national security? Could the council then deploy the CIA to remove him? Because apparently that’s what actually happened.
Harvey was in Italy running the Rome CIA station at the time, a post that deployed a corporate front named Permidex to cloak covert ops.
Intel manufactures “influencers” on both sides of any wedge issue simply because people are easily influenced. Wedge issues are the fulcrums deployed to divide and conquer. The influencer makes sure his side of the wedge flows into a managed dialectic. These games are always presented as a choice between two alternatives. If you’re looking for proof of intel penetration into the emerging sixties counterculture, and the manufacture of influencers, look no further than Kerry Thornley.
Thornley became a major New Age influencer despite a strict Mormon upbringing. In 1963, he invented Discordianism, which became the primary influence on the Church of the SubGenius and other counterculture alternative religions.
In 1959, however, Thornley was stationed at a U-2 base in Japan along with Lee Harvey Oswald. The base was a notorious site for MK/Ultra experiments deemed too controversial for US soil and it seems Oswald and Thornley could have gone through some behavior modifications as their lives became forever entwined. When Oswald departed to Russia posing as a defector offering up the U-2 secret, Thornley moved to New Orleans and began writing a novel based on Oswald titled The Idle Warriors.
Thornley was subpoenaed by the Warren Commission and a copy of his unpublished manuscript entered into the National Archives. He gave a highly detailed deposition establishing what a devoted Marxist Oswald was. It included the following exchange:
THORNLEY: [Oswald] had gotten me to read 1984 and this was one of his favorites.
JENNER. Tell me what 1984 was.
THORNLEY. This was a book about…it is a projection into the future, supposed to take place in 1984 in England under a complete police state. It is, I would say, an anti-utopian novel, by George Orwell, a criticism of English socialism and what it might lead to, based upon Orwell’s experiences with Communism and Nazism, his observations about a society .in which a mythical leader called Big Brother dominates everybody’s life. Where there are television cameras on every individual at all times watching his every act, where sex is practically outlawed, where the world is perpetually at war, three big police states constantly at war with one another, and where thought police keep every, all of the citizens in line. Oswald would often compare the Marine Corps with the system of government outlined in 1984.
JENNER. By way of protest against the Marine Corps?
THORNLEY. Yes; humorously, satirically. One day we were unloading, moving a radarscope off the truck and it slipped, and he said, “Be careful with Big Brother’s equipment.”
Because of Thornley’s appearance in front of the Warren Commission, New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison made Thornley a target of his investigation. From Garrison’s On the Trail of the Assassins:
Thornley had told me that he returned from his summer in California by way of Mexico City. This happened to be very close to the time that the Warren Commission said Oswald was in Mexico. By November 1963, according to his own account, Thornley was living in a New Orleans apartment he rented from John Spencer. We located Spencer, who turned out to be a friend of Clay Shaw’s. As he described it, sometimes Spencer visited Shaw, the director of the International Trade Mart, and sometimes it was vice versa.
Several days after the assassination. Spencer told us, he came to his house and found Thornley gone. In Spencer’s mailbox was a note from Thornley saying, “I must leave. I am going to the Washington, D.C. area, probably Alexandria, Virginia. I will send you my address so that you can forward my mail.” Spencer said it was quite unexpected because Thornley had at least a week left in the month before his rent was due. He went to Thornley’s apartment, number “C”, and found that paper had been left over the entire floor, torn up into small pieces like confetti. Before being torn up, the paper had been watered down so that the ink was blurred, making it unreadable. After the assassination Thornley told Spencer he was going to be a rich man because of the coincidence of Oswald having been the subject of his book. Thornley had wound up at Arlington, a Washington suburb, and had moved into Shirlington House, a first-class apartment building where he worked as doorman. Thornley stayed at Shirlington House for six months, until he testified before the Warren Commission. Oddly enough, his salary was less than the rent of his Shirlington House apartment.
In the mid-1970s when I was in the private practice of law, Thornley sent a lengthy, almost biographical, 50-page affidavit to me describing, among other things, evidence he had encountered in New Orleans of “Nazi activity” in connection with President Kennedy’s murder. It was apparent that even though I no longer was D.A. Thornley wanted to assure me that he had not been involved in Kennedy’s assassination. Although it did not accord with reality, as I recalled it, the affidavit had, in retrospect, one interesting feature. Purely gratuitously, it mentioned how Thornley had left Washington following his Warren Commission testimony and ultimately returned to California, where he and John Roselli happened to become friends.
Actually, the first place Thornley visited after departing Washington was Robert LeFevre’s John-Birch-connected Freedom School in Colorado, where he joined soon-to-be very powerful Charles Koch. Eventually Thornley came clean on the JFK assassination and confessed he’d been drawn into the plot by E. Howard Hunt.
But we know now that Hunt was not the instigator or anything close. After David Morales offered him a role in the assassination, which Hunt turned down (according to his deathbed confession), James Angleton seems to have selected Hunt as the official agency rabbit-hole-backstop. First, Weberman falsely ID’s Hunt as one of the three tramps. Then Angleton leaks a memo implicating Hunt as being in Dallas that day. Meanwhile, a handwritten note from Oswald to a Mr. Hunt is sent anonymously to Penn Jones, a leading researcher in the field before Lane shoves him off the national stage. Soon, Lane will focus all his attention on Hunt, culminating in a widely-covered libel trial. But all this million dollar trial proved was that Hunt could have been in Dallas that day. And by shepherding all eyes on Hunt, the real culprits at JM/Wave (Shackley, Harvey, Morales) were able to waltz free.
But the Thornley saga didn’t end there, not even close. In 1975, Antony Sutton published National Suicide detailing massive covert assistance from Wall Street to Russia. He was kicked out of the prestigious Hoover Institute and cast academically adrift. The John Birch Society seized on Sutton’s work to prove a thesis that Rockefeller and Rothschild were secret Communists working to integrate Russia and the US into one entity to rule the world. Interestingly, the leading polemicist for the Birchers, Revilo P. Oliver, was also called upon by the Warren Commission for a lengthy deposition, as was Mark Lane. It appears significant depositions might have been staged by CIA-connected spooks seeding rabbit holes and backstops.
While working as letters editor of Playboy, conspiracy researcher Robert Anton Wilson was inundated by Birch propaganda and decided to counter it by writing a satirical story about the Illuminati as if the society was an honest attempt to overthrow royalty and religion (and not some covert Jesuit plot to infect Freemasonry from within). Thornley immediately began corresponding with Wilson and worked his way into the pages of Playboy and eventually Discordianism became the foundation for Wilson’s trilogy, which began with a counterculture reporter’s investigation into the JFK assassination. Wilson’s fantasy, however well intended, served to make any Illuminati conspiracy less believable. Worse, it elevated Thornley to icon status instead of unmasking him as either a spook or MK/Ultra robot. Wilson’s book became launching pad for decades of nutty Illuminati conspiracies.
Meanwhile, despite the loss of academic credentials, Sutton soon published America’s Secret Establishment, revealing Yale University’s Order of Skull & Bones was deploying remarkably similar rituals as the original Illuminati. He never claimed a continuous order, only that the Boner playbook had lifted significant concepts from Adam Weishaupt. Meanwhile, the Birchers kept pumping disinfo memes alleging the Rothschilds and Rockefellers were secret Communist agents plotting the integration of the US and Russia into one massive socialist state, the beginnings of the one-world government conspiracy rabbit hole.
Eleven-year-old Mack White visited Dealey Plaza the day after JFK’s assassination with his father, a local newspaper editor who came equipped with a camera. When they arrived, Mack noticed two men standing on the Dal-Tex Building fire escape, one of whom was looking through a scoped rifle mounted on a tripod.
“Look,” Mack said to his father while pointing.
“I guess they’re detectives,” said his father. “They’re probably checking to see if there was another shooter.”
The idea of another shooter had not yet occurred to Mack. Later, he learned the two men could have been journalists using the gun as a prop for a photo of Elm Street that appeared the following week in the Saturday Evening Post. Or maybe they were something else entirely.
“In the years that followed, evidence emerged that there could have been a shooter in the Dal-Tex Building, as well as evidence for shooters all over the plaza, including the Grassy Knoll,” Mack wrote much later. Like many Americans, he remains haunted by the case.
The total number of shots is a great mystery, but it can be solved. The locations of the shooters can established at this point. Johnny Roselli was positioned in a storm drain inside the triple underpass and his only shot entered JFK’s throat.
There was a man with a rifle in the corner of the sixth floor window, but we know that man wasn’t Oswald, who was still eating lunch downstairs during the turkey shoot. There may be another shooter somewhere in the Dal-Tex Building, either on the roof or the fire escape, or deep inside some west-facing window behind a blind, or perhaps on the roof of the Depository. A shooter from the rear hit JFK in the back, and also Governor Connolly, and at least one rear shot missed everything and hit the curb, wounding James Tague. This means rear shots were fired a minimum of three times, while the other shooters seem to have only fired once. We know the kill shot came from the knoll, and it seems to have been the last, and adds up to a minimum of five shots. We just don’t know if all rear shots came from the sixth floor of the Texas Book Depository. Because two rifles were discovered inside the Depository (a Carcano and a Mauser), it’s possible both could have been fired, one from the sniper’s nest, and the other from the window farthest east or perhaps even the roof, both of which would have offered better locations from which to fire into the plaza. My best guess is there were four snipers, and two of them had to be in the rear because Kennedy and Connolly were hit almost simultaneously by bullets that could not have been fired by the same bolt-action rifle.
According to Dave Powers, who was riding in the trailing vehicle, the first two came close together, followed by a several-second pause, and the unmistakable headshot that sounded like a watermelon exploding. Powers described a bang, bang…..bang pattern, while other witnesses heard the opposite: a bang…..bang, bang, with the last two coming very close together.
Murders leave immense telepathic disturbances in their wake. Although Jackie Kennedy reacted instinctively by moving to retrieve JFK’s skull fragment from the trunk where it landed, she had no memory of doing so when testifying before the Warren Commission. Yet there are multiple photos and films showing her reaching across the trunk. This is why the testimony of those nearest the scene is often somewhat unreliable.
There had to have been five distinct shots that day, but some overlapped and/or may have emanated from a weapon with a sound-suppressor. Most witnesses heard three shots, which meant two must have overlapped or been taken as a fire-cracker or motorcycle back-fire instead of a rifle shot. The difficulty is the pattern of the shots seems to vary depending on the witness’s location in the Plaza.
In 1977, a cartridge was discovered by an air conditioning mechanic on the roof of the Dal-Tex building with crimped edges suggesting it had been hand-loaded or used in conjunction with a sabot, something deployed to fire lower-caliber bullets from a higher-caliber weapon. Strangely, one of the Carcano shell casing found on the sixth floor had a crimp according to Roger Craig, the first policeman on the scene. The last Federal investigation (HSCA) determined in 1978 that four shots were fired, one that missed, one at Zapruder frame 224, one at Zapruder frame 313, immediately followed by the 4th shot. The Warren Report’s published FBI analysis of the bullet that wounded eyewitness James Tague indicated it originated from a weapon that did not fire full-metal jacket ammo; unlike the Carcano carbine found in the TSBD that only fired full-metal jacket bullets. This alone should have been enough evidence to prove a conspiracy.
In 1987, John Rademacher found a shell casing buried underground near the picket fence in Dealey Plaza. Through a complex set of circumstances, this shell would soon be linked to a jailed and convicted assassin connected to the Chicago outfit named James Files, who claimed he was the grassy knoll gunman and had left his shell on the picket fence. Files also indicated he had a habit of biting his spent bullets (because he liked the taste of gun powder). And wouldn’t know you it, teeth marks were quickly found on the Rademacher cartridge.
Since there is such an intense effort to plant false evidence and false confessions into this story, it’s unlikely in my opinion Files is telling the truth, even though major parts of his story do correspond to something close to the truth. It’s far more likely the grassy knoll assassin fired once and never ejected the spent cartridge, much less put it between his teeth before setting it on top of the fence for all to see. The only shells left at the scene were the three intentionally planted on the sixth floor to incriminate Oswald. The main purpose of all these multiple fake confessions through the decades seems to be to engineer fakers into achieving widespread acceptance inside the research community before exposing them as frauds. Not only do these confessions put a cloud of mud in the investigative waters, they help brand the research community as conspiracy crackpots. I call these ops: “Time bombs salted in a rabbit hole.”