Legitimate facts casting doubt on the official 9/11 narrative

The fact many reported hearing explosions and yet zero attempt was made to document the claims and the site was immediately contaminated and all evidence carted away and destroyed. That’s not how you really investigate a crime scene.

The fact Building 7 never got mentioned in the Commission report.

The fact tremendous activity took place just prior to the event. People were placing huge bets two airline stocks would decline, while the securities trading company in the towers was doing massive transfers up until the collapse. All these trades could have been easily tracked and investigated by the FBI.

The fact we rushed the already-written Patriot Act into law, something ripped right out of a Nazi playbook to restrict human rights and allow the national security state to run rampant.

The fact we invaded two countries with zero evidence of any involvement, one for oil the other for opium. The fact the CIA was working with the opium cartel was obvious and little attempt was made to hide that fact.

The fact a FEMA videographer reported strange goings-on and had to eventually flee the country.

The fact hundreds of Israeli intelligence operatives were collecting data from a variety of sources, while many were shadowing the alleged hijackers. One team was located in Florida around the corner from where Mohammed Atta lived, and another was caught videotaping the fall of the towers from Liberty Park in New Jersey, indicating they had some prior knowledge. Some of these operatives were held for weeks in confinement before being quietly sent back to Israel. A DEA report on these activities was strangely published on Salon.

The fact that Atta hung out in strip joints, drinking and doing cocaine strongly indicates he was not a jihadist, but more likely an intelligence operative.

The fact almost all the alleged hijackers came out of Saudi Arabia with suspicious visas that never should have been issued. Many got assistance from Saudi agents while in the USA, and received flight training on US bases (but not how to land). All these facts should have been well-known to the FBI.

The fact that thousands of architects, engineers, relatives of victims, first responders, and now even some NYC fire commissioners are pressing for a new investigation.

The fact that the Pentagon is ringed with security cameras and yet no video of the strike has ever been released. Strangely, the plane had to make a corkscrew turn and come hit the backside of the building to surgically take out the accounting office investigating three trillion dollars unaccounted for. Had it just flown straight into the building, it could have hit the offices of the Joint Chiefs instead.

The fact that former Mossad assassin Juval Aviv, the subject of Steven Spielberg’s “Munich,” said many intelligence agencies had advance knowledge of the plot and warned US officials.

Mary Meyer is a key to the JFK assassination

Mary, Mary, where you goin’ to….with that eyedropper of LSD in your hand, baby?

Let me explain how the world really works: There’s an extremely wealthy oligarchy of American aristocrats, many of whom have strong alliances with relatives in Europe, and they regularly gather in multitudes of private ceremonies to harmonize while surfing various vibrations and plotting a future that involves handing their fortunes down while preserving the cartels and secret monopolies. Today, most people call this crowd “the elites” but I just call them “Old Money.”

Mary Pinchot was Old Money and wore charm and grace like a second skin according to her friends and lovers. She may have been the only woman sexy enough to steal JFK from Marilyn Monroe and she enjoyed bringing sacraments to her liaisons with Jack, often marijuana, but LSD as well at least once because it was legal at the time and pot was not.

Mary’s best friend from college married James Angleton, who rose to head of CIA counterintelligence, the dirty tricks side of the agency, while Mary married Cord Meyer, who rose to become chief of the CIA’s Project Mockingbird, the mission to recruit agents in the news and entertainment media in order to plant propaganda. Mary became a famous journalist herself. Old Money has a left and right too, you see, just like all the rest of us slobs are supposed to be dividing up into “liberals” and “conservatives,” Old Money divides to head up and commandeer those ops, only us regular slobs can only read the news, while Old Money owns the newspaper plant. Mary was at the top of the liberal wing of Old Money, the ones who’d been funding the Communist, socialist and labor movements.

LSD was being passed around freely at the CIA at the time and being experimented with for mind control ops involving hypnosis, so Mary had no trouble getting access. Her first trip was undoubtedly a spiritual one because she became a Temple Dragon with a new mission in life: turn on the most powerful people in Washington so they could see the light of God and start working for world peace. This sacred mission started with the Kennedy brothers, by the way, who apparently fell under Mary’s influence around this time, but then most males in Washington swooned a bit when Mary passed by.

What Mary didn’t know, however, was that devious James Angleton had long been bugging her phone, reading her mail and secretly using Mary as a source of intelligence as she weaved through the upper circles of society spreading her message of world peace. So when Mary began talking with Timothy Leary in order to get advice on how to best invoke a spiritual response on LSD, Angleton was listening in the entire time. And after Mary reported to Leary that Jack loved LSD and had secretly joined her mission to end the Cold War and dismantle the nuclear arms race, well Angleton probably chuckled and took that news to his good buddy Allen Dulles, cousin of the Rockefellers, a man who once ran the CIA but had been fired by Kennedy.

Mary called Leary after the assassination and was distraught. “He was changing too fast,” she sobbed. “They covered up everything. I’m afraid.”

On October 12th, 1964, two weeks after the publication of the fraudulent Warren Commission Report, she was found dead on a jogging path in the park. Two bullets, one to the head and one to the heart. Gangland execution-style. I’d check on both William Harvey and Johnny Roselli to see if one or both were in Washington that day, although a homeless black man found in the park became the designated patsy.

But if you know anything about Angleton and the fact it was his Executive Action Team that killed JFK, then you understand how it was that he was the first person to arrive at Mary’s home and retrieved her diary and any other potentially dangerous evidence.

Just shine a light on James Angleton and his movements and mind set immediately after the assassination and you will see the trail of dead bodies leading off into the darkness. In fact, as his paranoia increased, so did his evil acts and the power of death transformed him into a serial mass murderer. His Executive Action Team (Harvey & Roselli) were initially recruited to kill Castro, but they ended up killing JFK, and it was a messy op involving a national hero, and many died in Angleton’s futile attempts to prevent the truth from leaking out. But Angleton could not have possibly pulled this off without a strong consensus at the top of Old Money that Kennedy needed to go.

Even today, Project Mockingbird continues and part of its propaganda is to make you think we still don’t know who killed Kennedy. A few even push the tired old Oswald acted alone. But the truth has been available for decades, you just have to know how to sift through the disinfo for a dot of truth, and once you connect enough real dots, the trail leads to Angleton’s office at CIA. Do not follow the imaginary dot connections of Project Mockingbird. I call those rabbit holes and they exist to hide the real path to truth. But you can learn a lot from that sometimes if you practice how to look where they don’t want you to.

Something heavy went down…

The ancient Persians considered Balkh the “mother of all cities,” which may be why something heavy went down 5,000 years ago. Balkh was the largest, richest and most important oasis on the road connecting China and India to Europe. In fact, the trail split not far from the city’s immense walls, the southern route tailing off towards the Khyber Pass, while the northern led into the Hindu Kush to Kashgar.

Just as in Sumer, Turkey and Egypt, irrigation methods soon created immense gardens and orchards to support a growing population, and most crops were planted safely inside the city walls. Priests were placed in charge of water and seed distribution, as well as prayers and divinations for a good harvest.

One day there appeared a prophet in the city who instigated a major shift in cosmology. Up until his arrival, it had been assumed the universe was dominated by a vast multitude of greater and lesser spiritual energies, and each community had been free to make up their own pantheons.

When he first appeared on the scene, Zoroaster was a very controversial figure. He apparently accused some of the priests of practicing the dark arts and claimed their magic was fraudulent. It’s strange how today Zoroaster is known as “the first magician,” when, in fact, he seems to have gotten his start by exposing fake magic. During this time, an evil eye accusation could result in an execution. So if a priest accused you of giving someone the evil eye to explain why disaster had befallen them, you were pretty much a lost cause. I’m speculating here, but I believe Zoroaster may have put an end to such superstition.

One thing for sure, Zoroaster obliterated the ancient pantheons that had stood for millennia, replacing them with two forces, one good, and the other evil. It’s gone down in history as the origin of monotheism, even though in practice there were many lesser spirits in play. The other important contribution was the creation of a epic hero involved in seeking enlightenment, which supplemented the prior epic hero involved in feats of heroic strength. It was the first time a philosopher/scientist/astrologer emerged to replace the warrior avatars.

A number of epic hymns were written to celebrate Zoroaster’s quest for enlightenment. Some even attribute the first half dozen to Zoroaster himself. In a nutshell, he went to the top of smokey mountain, communicated with a magic plant, and came back down with the good god’s official rule book.

One day, a new young king of Balkh decided this new prophet Zoroaster was onto something heavy. And that’s when fire temples began sprouting all along the Silk Road serving a mixture of cannabis and milk with spices. This was Zoroaster’s Eucharist for healing the blind and lame, as well as curing depression, a magic staircase to the mind of the good god.

Known as soma in India, haoma in Persia, and shuma in China, the medicine helped transform Zoroaster into becoming the most famous prophet of his time. And, of course, after his death, magical stories about him increased and rapidly erased any human figure. This is the natural trajectory any mythic figure must undergo simply because people want to take their religion with a heavy dose of enchantment. So the debunker of fake magic became the world’s greatest magician.

There’s also been a lot of hoodwinking going on about when he really lived. Lately, there’s even been an attempt to date Zoroaster after Moses, when, in fact, Moses was obviously based on Zoroaster because it was the first Zoroastrian king of Persia (Cyrus the Great) who defeated the corrupt Babylonian empire and freed the Jews. Not only did Cyrus free the Jews, he gave them funds and instructions to rebuild Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem. This all happened before the Jews had a written language, and in gratitude, Moses was fashioned as the Jewish Zoroaster, and most of the cosmology lifted right out of the Avesta.

And, of course, in short order, something heavy went down in Jerusalem.

Return of the Jack Boots

The Antifa jackboot army reminds me greatly of the terrorist Weather Underground, the intel-sponsored group that destroyed the peaceful counterculture through their takeover of the previously peaceful Students for a Democratic Society and their promotion of the insane Charlie Manson. (Watch the video below for the details on that op.)

If you think dressing up in black, wearing a mask, and engaging in violence is a solution to world problems, guess again….you’re a tip on the spear of agitprop, the goal of which is to divide our nation into warring factions concentrated on combat against each other, ignoring the path to any solutions to the problems of wealth inequality, healthcare and education.

Intel is fomenting another Civil War, and no doubt will find ways to profit from it. I guarantee, you will find just as many spooks in Antifa as there are in the Nazi movement, and the most violent members of both groups are swiftly corralled under intel supervision. This is just the beginning, and you can expect knee-jerk reactions as the confrontations accelerate. Denouncing violence in all forms is the only path to peace.
–Steven Hager Aug 19, 2017

Violence begets violence. And is easily penetrated, directed and inflamed by intel. Drop your attention, and this will dry up and go away. What we don’t want is our children sucked into these dialectical games only designed to divide and conquer.

The Nazis were backed by IG Farben and the biggest corporations in Germany. IG Farben was created by John Foster Dulles using Wall Street loans. There are no major USA corporations backing the Proud Boys or the KKK. The battle between fascism and communism was a staged dialectic.

The Proud Boys are not the Nazis, and the country is not in danger of them organizing a coup.

Of course, if they can suck enough people into fomenting violence in the streets, all bets are off, and what shreds of the Constitution remain will evaporate in the name of national security.

Virginia and the Duke

Virginia Roberts made a life-changing decision. Long ago, when she was still a teenager, she ran away from home and ended up working at a Trump casino, where she was discovered by Jeffery Epstein, a former Bear Stearns executive who’d created his own company to profiteer on the incredibly greedy and corrupt medical-industrial-pharma complex.

Upon seeing Virginia working a lowly coat check position, he immediately recruited her into his teenage harem, a harem made available to visiting dignitaries. Epstein’s favorite site for sexual ceremonies was a private island he owned off the Virgin Islands. Many famous and powerful people visited over the years.

That’s Virginia in the photo above with the Duke of York wrapped around her sexy waist. The person taking the photo is undoubtedly Epstein, and that’s his accomplice and sometime sexual partner Ghislaine Maxwell looking very pleased. She’s likely smiling because she knows what a compromising photo this is, a card to be held close to the vest forever. Unfortunately, the cards were confiscated when Epstein was convicted of child abuse a few years ago and given an 18-month prison sentence after pleading guilty to reduced charges. It was a slap on the wrist, really, and the sentence allowed him home visitations.

But did you know Ghislaine is the youngest daughter of Robert Maxwell, who had relations with almost every intelligence agency on earth, although no one knows where his true allegiance lay, if anywhere other than himself? Maxwell was assassinated by Mossad frogmen shortly after helping move tons of gold out of Russia into an underground bunker in Israel. So the fact Epstein made an alliance with Ghislaine is interesting as she arrived in New York with a $120,000 annual inheritance, not nearly enough to pay for the investigation of her father’s death, much less rocket her to the front lines of Manhattan social life.

So I suspect Epstein bankrolled that highly confidential investigation by former Mossad super spook Juval Aviv, a man made famous by Stephen Spielberg’s film Munich. I spent an hour with Aviv a few years ago, and he told me about the gold and the Mossad assassination of Maxwell, although he may have been speaking in probabilities and not certainties (wink, wink).

Here’s what’s certain: The people in power pleasure themselves however they please, and consider themselves above any rules of mere mortals like me and you. Thus the abuse of children is just one of many diseases afflicting their minds. Although Virginia was 17 when most of her abuse occurred, she bears testimony to girls as young as 11 being involved. Virginia escaped because once she reached 19, Epstein sent her to Thailand to study massage techniques, where she met an Australian who rescued and eventually married her. They have three children and live in California.

The British press went berserk dealing with these revelations and it’s funny how they gloss over the Maxwell angle and keep printing he “fell off his yacht,” as if his death was some unfortunate, avoidable accident. The latest book on Maxwell reveals he was involved in stealing and selling the notorious Promis software that was used to penetrate banks and intelligence agencies around the world through a secret back-door. He was around a billion dollars in debt and demanded the Mossad give him the billion to stay afloat or else he planned to spill some beans. The Mossad thought it over, and sent in the frogmen.

New York City’s best grower/dealer?

Strange how High Times kept bringing me back. The final go-round was the most excruciating of all, but I always had a sense the powers-that-be were playing defense against me when they should have been on my team.

While I’d been away this time for two years, video operations entirely ceased, and this happened during the same time frame that Youtube took off and minted a generation of video stars outside the establishment pipelines. The magazine had bizarrely gone no-pot for a disastrous year followed by a nothing-but-pot policy.

I knew nobody was really on my team, but I dove into rebuilding my video operations, but this time on a professional scale. I turned my office into a video studio and shot and edited video every day. Making this foray into film and television was my biggest priority, although I also brought back real investigative journalism, something the magazine was in dire need of, and penned two of my greatest features, one on the CIA’s LSD attack on a French town after WWII, and the other was on an unknown Canadian named Rick Simpson. Both articles attracted attention, something High Times hadn’t seen much of since I’d departed.

But my pride and joy was my High Times Reality TV pilot that I was working up for Comedy Central. I’d already had a couple meetings with the head of the network and they were watching the show’s progress with great interest. I was working on creating the cannabis alternative to Sasha Baron Cohen. Unfortunately, much of the staff were somewhat devastated upon my return as no doubt they’d been expecting the promotion themselves, and some had zero intention of working with me on anything. It certainly helped this attitude along that the owners were ringleaders of the vibes against me.

The first half of the show got screened at the free Woodstock Film Festival. The second half was shot but the footage was hijacked and used to make a generic “welcome to the Cup promo” film that ignored the Borat-style film I’d shot, and replaced it with an endless parade of bud shots.

Hopefully, some day, I will finish the project. But in the meantime, you can check out part one here:

 

Cannabis Castaways

When CBS announced a former British commando had moved to Hollywood and was launching a survival elimination game show called “Survivor,” I instantly knew the concept was going to be a big hit, mostly because it was mining tribal traditions, something I’d been doing for over a decade through my events and organizations.

Of course, I didn’t want some cutthroat competition, just a group of cinematic stoners checking out all the strains of the annual Cannabis Cup. Maybe that sounds easy, but it’s actually quite a daunting task unless you’re an experienced bud-tender or distributor who knows his strains.

We had a talented young comedian, a hip hop music producer (and grower), an aspiring performance artist, a medical user, a noted activist, and a super hottie from England. They were all thrown into a one bedroom houseboat in Amsterdam and told they had to stay onboard until they had tried all the strains, which were released slowly in increments of a half dozen or so at a time.

After 36 hours or so, the young comedian requested to get off the boat and soon announced he was off pot for good. He had entered the contest not really being very experienced with cannabis, but only wanting to win the contest and get some notoriety for his comedy. As a joke, he rolled a dozen strains into a giant joint and began toking on it. Within a few minutes, you could see a pronounced change in his body language.

The Castaways picked the Cannabis Cup winner that year, and I was planning on another season, and keeping some of the Castaways as characters in my tv universe I was building, but when they returned to the States, the hip hop producer’s estranged wife initiated a custody battle to bar access to their daughter based on his participation in the show. When he called me hysterically after the judgment, I asked for a copy of the transcript.

I’d just won a similar custody battle based on my being editor of High Times initiated by a bipolar member of my wife’s family, so I had experience with the terror this dude was going through, and you don’t know real mental terror until someone swoops in and seizes your only child.

But, at the same time, I had to admit the transcript read like a Cheech and Chong script. The producer had denied being involved in the show from the get-go and the lawyer led him down a garden path until he produced a copy of High Times with him on the cover, holding his distinctive cane, a cane he now held firmly in his grasp in the witness stand. The producer went down in flames.

I contacted the comedian because I wondered if he wanted to work on an animated film about our project. A lot of the comedy we’d worked on together during the event had been successful. We’d produced a sitcom every night for four nights running and showed the results to open the shows at the Melkweg. This mini series was treated with waves of applause and belly laughter and was obviously the most entertaining thing we’d produced content-wise from all my improvisational explorations.

But the comedian freaked again, and sent a letter to all the Castaways saying I was planing on mining their personal tragedies for profit and advised them all never to speak with me again. He certainly never did.

But we did get a live web show so popular it kept crashing our website while it was on, and the highlights were immortalized in a DVD you can watch here:

Forever Fun

It’s unfortunate how little video footage got captured during the first Whee! festival outside Eugene, Oregon. The entire adventure had begun as my plot to establish a Weed Woodstock. (Although, in truth, the original was funded almost entirely by weed money, and the event helped cement Woodstock as a weed distribution center.)

I remember taking the trustees to lunch at some five-star restaurant and saying, “You have to be committed to a new event for five years, because that’s how long it may take to break even.” But I assured them after five years, my Whee! fest would be as big if not bigger than Woodstock. And I believed this because the event was promoted as a prayer for world peace, a serious non-denominational ceremony recognizing cannabis as the sacrament of peace culture.

Of course, Whee! exploded immediately, drawing 20,000 to the event, most of whom got in for free and were fed free by a non-stop crew kitchen, and anyone could volunteer to be crew.

After the OM circle, someone handed a bottle of whiskey to Felipe and said he was done with this. Felipe and I did a bunch of powerful ceremonies together, and that was certainly one of the best.

But the day after the event ended, we invited the Pranksters to our motel room to celebrate and eat pizza. Only Ken Babbs showed up, and this is what transpired. The next day, we went to see Kesey, and he introduced me to non-linear video editing, just going prosumer. I had been a devoted follower of improvisational ritual theater as practiced by the Pranksters, and took this direction very seriously, devoting the rest of my life to capturing video of the ceremonies I was staging. Sure glad I kept these memories, and if you want to know what Hager ceremonies look and feel like, this will clue you in.

As soon as I got back to New York, the trustees informed me that Whee! had been a financial failure. Although I knew that was a lie. Through immense efforts I manage to resurrect one more Whee! at the same site the next year before my precious Whee! ceremony was cast to the winds, and thus ended my longstanding campaign for the recognition of spiritual rights for cannabis users.

 

Chef Ra Escapes Babylon

Tom Forcade had multiple film projects in the works when he committed suicide. He’d recently bought controlling interest of a smuggling project, and went to show a rough cut to Robert Evans in Hollywood. Forcade had just paid an editor to whip the chaotic footage into a story. He put a lot of effort into trying to make sense of that footage, some of which involved footage of a real smuggling operation, but Evans sadly told him the edit still wasn’t working.

Apparently, Forcade’s moves into Hollywood contributed to two things: cocaine and guns. According to Gabrielle Schang, Forcade didn’t carry a pistol until after being introduced around Hollywood. He’d been a dealer and distributor and magazine publisher, but was also branching into smuggling and film at the same time. His most precious documentary project involved filming the Sex Pistols historic tour of America. Forcade bought a plane and sent Jack Combs on a mission. He never recovered from Jack’s fatal crash at the end of that ill-fated mission. And that also ended any High Times forays into the film world until I arrived.

Before coming to High Times, I’d launched a moderately successful film project called Beat Street, and never lost sight of expanding my efforts into the world of film and video. When prosumer equipment finally reached the realms of the masses, I began documenting everything, quickly evolving into the most video-centric magazine editor on the national stage. I shot thousands of hours of footage, and often assembled 7-person crews to do four-camera edits with live switching of my major events. All this was working towards the creation of a counterculture television network.

The first project I pitched to the trustees was a Chef Ra travel guide to Jamaica. I was creating an entire galaxy of High Times stars and Ra was intended to be one of the brightest.

Imagine my surprise when the trustees tell me they are putting up thousands of dollars to make the Chef Ra film. That was the good news. The bad news was the project was being given to the aspiring filmmaker son of the head trustee. I didn’t get to play any role in the film until the end. They spent a week in Jamaica and shot a lot of random footage and needed Ra to help work it into a story.

That’s not the best way to make a great documentary and it showed in the final product. But it remains the best portrait of Jim Wilson we have, and since Jim co-wrote the script used to stitch the scenes together, it carries his creativity and compassion.

The first documentary on the emerging hemp movement

Modern life is evolving so fast it’s hard to imagine the vibes going down 30 years ago. Which is why it’s so entertaining to check out a documentary I produced early in the 1990s titled Let Freedom Ring: the Origins of the Hemp Movement. It came out just after my discovery of 420, but three years after I’d created the Freedom Fighters with the help of Rodger Belknap of West Virginia, who quickly became our organization’s chief funder and spiritual advisor.

The Freedom Fighters went from a handful of High Times staffers to the biggest cannabis legalization group in the world in two years, while the Ann Arbor Hash Bash went from a dozen hardcore devotees to many thousands cramming the diag at the University of Michigan. Marching into rallies in our Freedom Fighter outfits was the ritual that helped galvanize a national movement.

Shortly after the film was released, however, Rodger was railroaded into jail, while High Times forced me to disband the group, allegedly because NORML was unhappy about the competition, which seemed weird since our newsletter had been recognizing and supporting NORML chapters from inception, and many Freedom Fighter state groups were also affiliated with NORML, including the chapter in Boston that created the Boston Freedom Rally.

Our big campaign was bringing activists together for major rallies. We organized free campgrounds with free food and a free bus ride to the rally. When Rodger asked me what was needed for the organization, I told him we needed a school bus and council tipi. Within a few weeks we had both and took off for the Rainbow Gathering in Ocala, Florida, where I flew a High Times flag and nobody cared.