JFK

On Assassination.

Unbekoming

Jul 14, 2024

A visually captivating square image without any text. The scene should focus on a vintage rifle, prominently displayed against a dark, dramatic background. The rifle should appear worn, with visible scratches and signs of use, evoking a sense of history and intrigue. The lighting should highlight the details of the rifle, creating strong contrasts and deep shadows to emphasize its significance and mysterious past. The overall mood should be one of suspense and secrecy.

I’ve been meaning to create this stack for a long time.

Considering today’s events, I thought it appropriate.

The Official Story of today’s assassination attempt on Trump is yet to be written.

We know only one thing for sure, and that is that, as Liam Scheff wrote, "Official stories exist to protect officials."

But first, here is the one and only James Corbett.

Official Stories by Liam Scheff (2012)

Official Stories book by Liam Scheff (thriftbooks.com)

Chapter 3 JFK - Turn Right On Houston

The Official Story: John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States, is gunned down in Dallas. A lone nut, Lee Harvey Oswald, separated from his wife, displaying erratic behavior, with a pro-Communist bent, shoots the U.S. President and the Governor of Texas who are passing by in an open-topped limo, from 88 yards (256 feet) and six stories away with a gun he mail-ordered using a false name. Oswald is himself shot two days later while in police custody by another lone nut, club-owner Jack Ruby.

The Lone Gunman: The proverbial lone gunman, Lee Harvey Oswald.

The Magic Bullet: Yes, THE magic bullet, so named for having done what no piece of metal fired from a gun has ever achieved. Seven wounds in two people across shifting planes, through a back and neck, a ribcage, a wrist and into a thigh, at jumpy angles over most of 2 seconds, emerging unscathed - not smashed, bent or squashed due to impact, but only lightly scuffed and nearly pristine.

Rabbit Holes

If there is one official story - or conspiracy - that will make a nutter out of you, it's the JFK assassination. There isn't just one rabbit hole to jump down; there is an interconnected subterranean network of warrens, leading from subplot to subplot, from one group of seedy, colorful scumbags to another and another…and another. It never really ends, and I think that's the way it's supposed to work, the way it was designed to unfold. To be so confusing in the microscopic details so as to make all but the most experienced investigators go batty with the surplus information and intrigue.

So, let's do it this way. We’ll scratch the surface in layers: scuff the official story until it shows detail; scratch it until it shows dirt and stone, and again until we see the roots and creatures vining beneath the under-layers. And one last time to see if we can discover the source of their growth and squirmy existence.

There are two mysteries in the Kennedy case. The mystery of Oswald, the alleged shooter, and that of Kennedy, his cabinet, the military and the men who probably wanted him dead. We'll visit both. Here goes.

Scratch 1: The lone nut gunman was ex-military; he served in the Marines. He was hardly “lone.” All of his associates and “friends” were part of the underground, CIA-backed anti-Castro faction operating in the Gulf Coast, from New Orleans to the Florida Keys.

He ordered the rifle with an alias he’d used before, one easily tracked to him. He could have bought a better gun for cash anywhere in Texas and left no paper trail. He was intentionally photographed with the rifle by his wife (who later told Governor Jesse Ventura that she had no idea why he asked her to take the picture). But his hands showed no gun powder residue when he was caught. When the rifle was tested after his arrest, it did not have his fingerprints on the trigger or anywhere else. Then, after Lee was shot and killed, the rifle magically developed his palm print on the disassembled barrel of the gun - the kind of thing you can do by slapping someone’s hand on it in the morgue. But now we're speculating - let’s stick to the knowns.

The shot. The official story gives us only three shots in 5.6 seconds. That number comes from the unintended witness on that day in Dallas - a man named Abraham Zapruder, who was shooting a different kind of weapon - an eight-millimeter home video camera. He caught the assassination of the President on film and made it possible for us to dig deeper. We get 5.6 seconds from his film. We get three shots from the three cases “found” in the book depository - just left there, apparently, for the world to count. I don't believe that Lee Oswald would have left three casings on the floor. I think he would have picked them up and maybe thrown them down a sewer, but that's the official story.

Scratch 2: Three shots from an upper, 6th story window of a book warehouse. An impossible shot. The window faces Houston street, which connects by a left turn onto Elm street, where Kennedy was murdered. From the window, Lee would have had ample time to get off two, even three direct shots into the car as it approached the building, while it was on Houston. Once it turned, a shooter faced a car moving away at an odd angle, blocked by the branches of a Texas Live Oak tree. People who have been to the book depository, which is now a museum to Oswald's “glory,” have commented along these lines: “I guess he could have made the shot…if he levitated out the window.”

The gun - a Mannlicher-Carcano, a WW2 Italian rifle. It's been called a lousy gun, “the pacifist rifle” (because it's so likely to miss). Defenders of the official story say it's reasonably decent. No one calls it a marksman's weapon. And no one called Lee Oswald a professional sniper - he was a fair shot, at best.

The scope - the telescopic lens used by marksmen aiming over a long distance. A perfectly-calibrated scope is not an option for sharp-shooters; it's a pre-requisite for hitting anything smaller than a barn door from far away. But on Lee's gun, the site was misaligned. It tracked wrong. What you looked at was not what you shot. The Army couldn’t test-fire the gun without putting it on metal shims to compensate for its misalignment. So, how did Lee shoot Kennedy twice? Right. He didn't.

The gun used a manually-cranked bolt, requiring over two seconds to recycle; to crank open, dislodge a shell, for the new one to rise into place, then to re-lock into firing position. All of which moves the barrel and loses tracking of a distant object in a telescopic site.

In 40 years, no one - no FBI sharpshooter, marksman, ex or current military or private citizen - has ever been able to match the shots in a re-creation, using the same height and distance, even with a stationary object and a good working rifle. Never mind a bad scope aiming at a moving limousine.

Scratch 3: The motive: The official story has trouble here. Most of the rationale ascribed to Lee Oswald by the official story-tellers centers on his commitment to Marxism and communism. On the other hand, John Kennedy was labelled a “communist” by the mad-dog, anti-Castro community along the Gulf coast. Kennedy had, from their point of view, abandoned the brave invaders of the Bay of Pigs and failed to send the U.S. Air Force in to annihilate the Castro regime. In fact, many of Oswald's associates were deep within the anti-communist community - David Ferrie, Guy Banister and Clay Shaw.

Here's where the rabbit holes begin to go a little wild.

Oswald, “lone nut,” pro-communist assassin of a “pro-communist” (said his critics) President, was ex-military. He worked in a U.S. airbase in Japan handling top secret data, a job he got despite openly expressing Marxist opinions, something he did consistently during his time in the Marines, which he joined at 17 years of age. In the Marines he was trained in radio operations and given a security clearance at the same time he was being teased for bad marksmanship and mocked for his open support of communism. He also studied Russian. He did poorly on a Russian exam but was later called “remarkably fluent” by a man who would know - we'll get to that soon.

Lee was stationed in Japan as a radio operator at the base which oversaw transmissions for the U-2 spy planes. The U-2s were radar-evading high-altitude wonders that the U.S. was using to take photos of Russia to track military operations. They were also a CIA-funded and operated espionage project. These things were untouchable, until the one piloted by CIA-trained Gary Powers was shot down in Russia in 1961. But hold that thought.

Mother Russia

Seven months after his Russian exam, Lee took a three-day pass, he said, to visit his sick mother. He bought a 1500-dollar ticket on a marine's couple hundred dollar bank account (he was apparently an accounting wizard as well as being a Marxist Marine). He got on a plane to England, said he was going to Switzerland and then went to Moscow. He told the Russians that he planned to defect and become a Russian citizen. He walked into the American Embassy in Moscow, turned in his passport and renounced his American citizenship.

So far, our lone-nut, pro-communist, pro-Castro assassin has been an operator of military radio equipment at a CIA base, he's been vocal about his putative politics and now he's defected to Russia. So why did he shoot the guy who didn't invade Cuba and who kept the peace with Khrushchev?

While Lee was in Russia, Gary Powers' U-2 plane was shot out of the sky by Russian fighters. Powers parachuted to safety but faced a trial in Moscow. He was sentenced to 10 years, but returned to American in a spy-exchange in ’62. Did Oswald provide codes to the Russians? Stay tuned.

In Russia, Lee was given a job at a radio factory and a nice apartment in a luxury building. He received all the perks of a visiting dignitary. He lived as high a life as he ever had or ever would. He met a 19-year-old Russian girl at a trade union dance. She was the niece of a high-ranking Soviet intelligence officer. He married her, they had a child. And then he did the impossible.

Lee Oswald, “lone-nut assassin with no ties to anybody in the U.S. Government or military,” turned around and came back to the United States. He got on a plane and returned to Texas. And was permitted to walk on. He was not arrested, nor detained and interrogated for weeks. In fact, he was given a 435 dollar “repatriation loan,” and perhaps a hearty pat on the back before he moved on. With his Russian wife and child. Yes, they were allowed to come into the country with him.

He did this in June of 1962, during the nuclear weapon fever pitch of the Cold War, when communists were the public enemy of the United States. When even communist “sympathies” destroyed careers. After the Bay of Pigs. Just months before the 13 days of the Cuban Missile Crisis. And after a U-2 spy plane was shot down. The plane whose top-secret routes and transmissions were handled at the U.S. CIA Marine base in Japan, where Lee was a radio operator.

And that’s all official. Lone nut gunman? Proxy of the U.S. government? Or, just a patsy? The surface has given way to a maze of rabbit holes just by looking at the official details of the official story.

New Orleans

Lee returns with a Russian wife and child from a whirlwind tour of defection. The ex-marine gets a job at a map-making firm in Texas called Jaggars-Chiles-Stovall. This company contracts with the Pentagon to develop U-2 spy photos of overseas (Russian and Cuban) weapons depots and military bases. Again, Oswald is working for the military.

Lee moves to New Orleans. He works out of Guy Banister's office. Banister is a former FBI agent and a CIA front man, running guns and mercenaries to Cuba, working on the then “neo-con” project of overthrowing Castro - and getting Kennedy out of office. Associates at Banister's office include David Ferrie and Clay Shaw. Ferrie is an anti-Castro mercenary, skilled pilot and known deviant pedophile. He’s part of New Orleans’ rough homosexual underground, as is his associate Clay Shaw. Shaw is a powerful businessman working in international commerce. He runs the International Trade Mart. He’s a big fish in his pond. He is also a CIA source and handler. And Oswald is one of Shaw and Ferrie's operatives. The three are even seen together near a voting drive in one of the parishes.

Oswald is filmed on TV in a staged debate between putatively pro- and anti-communist factions. He takes the “pro.” It looks like press for visibility's sake. He’s seen handing out pro-communist literature, but on the back, the address leads the reader to anti-communist Guy Banister's office.

This all takes place in the heart of the intelligence community in New Orleans, amid the Naval intelligence, Secret Service, FBI and CIA offices.

David Ferrie is investigated for his associations by New Orleans district attorney Jim Garrison, who does the first investigation of the assassination. Ferrie's stories are all over the place. When word of Garrison’s investigation hits the papers, Ferrie calls Garrison’s investigator and says, “You know what this news story does to me, don't you. I'm a dead man.” A week later, Ferrie turns up dead in his house, before he is able to testify. The coroner says he died of natural causes, but he left two suicide notes. Or, someone left two notes for him.

Shaw is tried by Garrison but gets off. He can't tie Shaw to the CIA convincingly enough, but he’s had every request for official records refused by the intelligence community. He does manage to requisition and receive the Zapruder film, which was owned by Time-Life (more on that in a moment).

During the run-up to the trial, Jim Garrison is attacked by the press, his offices bugged and some of his associates infiltrated or turned by the FBI. His personal life is nearly destroyed, but he presses on and tries the case. Without the U.S. government granting his requests and refusing his subpoenas of important information - like Lee Oswald's tax records - he doesn't win.

To this day, Lee's tax records are a state secret. What would they show that would make them top secret? How about a check coming from the U.S. Government, for “services rendered.”

So Much To Gain

Jack Ruby, Lee's assassin, wasn't a crazed avenger of Kennedy. He was anything but. He was a well-known figure in the Dallas underworld - a mafia collector, “bag man,” driver, criminal, gun-runner, as well as a good time guy and a club owner. He even shows up as an informant for J. Edgar Hoover's (deranged, wire-tap-happy) FBI. That's right, the guy who shot Oswald and prevented the most important trial of the 20th Century was also an FBI intelligence source.

Ruby had friends in the deeply-corrupted Dallas police force of the early 1960s. He was picked up time and again for weapons possession and other small crimes. He was always released in no time with no charges pressed. And on November 24, two days after the President was shot, he managed to walk into police headquarters, with a gun and, while surrounded by a mob of cops and reporters, he shot Lee in the stomach. He did this while Lee was handcuffed and surrounded by police. All of this was filmed and broadcast live on national television. Which is an effective way to send a message to the American public. “The man who shot the President is dead - and you all saw it.”

But Ruby knew Oswald, Ferrie and everybody else. They were seen together in New Orleans night clubs. Lee was identified as the quiet one, Ruby, the loud, brash showman. They floated in and out of that underworld but, according to witnesses for Garrison's trial, they shared the same table, literally.

And David Ferrie, that strange, anxious, horrible, pedophile CIA gun-runner, knew Lee since he was 15 years old. He also knew Barry Seal. Both Seal and Oswald trained under Ferrie in a civilian branch of the military called the Civil Air Patrol. There is even a picture of it which you can find online. (There they are ready to go on maneuvers. Lee at one end, Ferrie at another. Small world.) And Barry Seal, CIA drug runner extraordinaire? Assassinated as he was trying to come in and spill his secrets? Some theorists say he was the getaway pilot for the JFK assassins. (There are always more rabbit holes.)

Before his death in prison, Jack also went on record. He said (and I quote): “Everything pertaining to what's happening has never come to the surface. The world will never know the true facts of what occurred - my motives. The people that had so much to gain and had such an ulterior motive for putting me in the position I'm in, will never let the true facts come above board to the world.” Well, he was no Shakespeare. (But neither was Shakespeare - see Chapter 7.) I don't know if that makes him a liar.

He added that the film of the assassination (the Zapruder film) had been held back by men in power because of what it showed. He also said that the world would be changed as a result of all of it: “You won't see me again. I tell you that a whole new form of government is going to take over the country and I know I won't live to see you another time.” And sure enough, he died soon after, which was attributed to cancer. Clearly, just another lone nut.

Fluent

Here's a name we don't learn in school: George de Mohrenschildt. Born in Russia in 1911, he emigrated to the U.S in 1938. He was strongly anti-communist. His brother joined the OSS’s (early CIA's) overseas operations in Europe to fight the Communists in Russia. George appeared to have some alliances with the Nazis. He said that was to get back what was stolen by the Stalinists, but who knows.

In his 30s, George (“deM” for short) applied for work with the CIA; they (the official story goes) looked askance because of his “Nazi” leanings. But the rest of George's life was marked by meetings with CIA and U.S. intelligence and government officials in the U.S., Haiti, Mexico and Europe.

He was a petroleum geologist and a member of the oilmen's secret clubhouse - the Dallas Petroleum Club. He was wealthy, traveled internationally and spoke at least five languages. He was regularly debriefed by CIA and I think reported to them for instruction. Because it was George De Mohrenschildt who became Lee Oswald's new best friend in Dallas. He was 31 years his senior, from a class and a level of training that the “lone nut” version of Oswald never achieved. What did they have in common?

They spoke Russian together. George deM declared that Lee was “remarkably fluent.” Go figure. I guess those lessons and his time being a defecting expatriate really paid off.

But wait - how's this for connected? George deM was a personal friend of the Bush family. His nephew went to boarding school with a cousin of President Bush, the first. George deM even wrote George Bush, Sr., a personal letter asking for a favor in 1976 and got a personal reply. We’ll get to that in a minute.

Dear George

George deM was a popular and connected man. He was close with the socialite Bouvier family of New York. He even bounced little Jackie on his knee when she was a young girl. She called him “Uncle George.”

Pause. Rewind. George de Mohrenschildt bounced young Jackie Kennedy on his knee? The man who became best friends with “lone nut” Lee Harvey. Bounced the wife of the future assassinated president. On his knee.(Bring out the coincidence meter! Plug it in! Type in the sentence. Oh no, we've broken the coincidence meter!)

No, this wasn’t a coincidence. This was planning. This guy was chosen. He's CIA. Setting up a patsy. Or, believe what you like, but for reasons omitted from all official versions, George took Lee right under his wing. It was George deM who got Lee the job at the military map makers. It was George deM who introduced Lee and his wife Marina to a woman named Ruth Hyde Paine.

It was Mrs. Paine who facilitated the weirdness in Oswald country. She conveniently and oh-so-amicably separated from her husband in 1963, just in time for Marina to move in, because she and Lee were on the outs.

Ruth Paine became Marina's new best friend. Lee rented a room elsewhere, visiting the family on weekends, but still got Marina sufficiently pregnant to have another child while she was at Paine's. Paine got Lee a job at the school book depository looking down on Elm and Houston Streets, in Dealey Plaza, Dallas. In October, 1963. Five weeks before. The President arrived. Just in time to use his extraordinary Russian, map-making and radio-operating skills…stacking textbooks.

But who was Ruth Paine? Her father worked for the U.S. Agency for International Development. So did her brother-in-law. And U.S.A.I.D. functions as? A CIA front-operation.

Lee took the job stacking school books for a few dollars a day, until the fateful day that John F. Kennedy's limo rolled down Elm street, under the open windows of the buildings looming over...Open windows? Hold that thought.

In 1976, George deM wrote to...you might not believe me, but it’s true. He wrote the head of the CIA, personally, in a hand-written note and asked him for help. George deM said he was being hounded for what he'd said and written about Lee Oswald. He got a letter back from the head of the CIA, addressing him not as Mr. De Mohrenschildt, but as “George.” Who did he write, but another George. George H.W. Bush, future V.P. and President, then head of the CIA. Bush told him, essentially, politely, in the cold tones only a Connecticut Yalie can master, to go fuck himself. Here's how he put it:

“I can only speculate that you may have become ‘newsworthy’ again in view of the renewed interest in the Kennedy assassination and thus may be attracting the attention of people in the media. I hope this letter has been of some comfort to you, George, although I realize I am unable to answer your question completely. George Bush, Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.”

De Mohrenschildt was dead weeks later, with intelligence officers looking for his “little black book.” That address book was retrieved by an honest investigator working to reveal information about assassinations. In the book was found a name and address: “Bush, George H. W. (Poppy), 1412 W. Ohio also Zapata Petroleum, Midland.” I guess they did know each other, after all.

Magic Time

In Dallas on that day, three shots had to be accounted for, because three was the number that the Warren Commission could argue for without allowing for the reality of a second shooter. Three shots in 5.6 seconds, with the second and third right on top of each other.

But of the three casings left to be found by the window, only two were allowed to be used in the shooting. One bullet hit an overpass, ricocheted and injured a stander-by, James Tague, on the cheek. That left two shots remaining. More than two indicated another gun, which meant “conspiracy.” And that was never going to be allowed in the official version.

It was a junior aide, Arlen Spector, who gave the world the Rube Goldberg device that is the morbid fascination of JFK researchers everywhere: The Magic Bullet.

Here is the official version: The first bullet, fired from the lousy gun with a mismatched sight, hit the President in the back of the neck and burst out of his throat. In the Zapruder film, you see John Kennedy clasp his hands to his neck, covering a wound, as Jackie leans over in worry.

The second bullet missed, hit the overpass and nicked James Tague.

The third bullet, considered the “head shot,” fired from behind, did something that would be considered magic, if not for the horror of it. The bullet is supposed to have hit John Kennedy's head from behind, driving it slightly forward. Then, according to the official story, it burst out of the front of his head, causing an explosion which drove Kennedy's head and his entire body, forcefully, violently - like a man being kicked by a horse - back and to the left. Back and to the left.

(Would it make more sense to say that the impact came from front and to the right?)

But, that's not the “magic bullet.” The magic bullet was the first one. The one that broke through his neck and burst out of his front. Because, according to Arlen Spector, junior associate, that bullet continued, having plunged through inches of flesh, muscle and cartilage, into Governor Connolly of Texas, who was sitting in the front seat. The bullet then changed angles, vectors and probably even speeds, at least three times. Arlen’s magic bullet, leaving JFK's throat, still in perfect condition, entered Connolly's armpit, moved downward, shattered a rib, left his body, moved upward and then angled down, entered his wrist, broke bones there, left the wrist, changed angles and entered his thigh.

That's neck-neck, armpit-rib, wrist-wrist and thigh. Seven wounds, one bullet. “Magic.”

But that's not all, folks! The bullet was then “recovered” - no, not from Connolly's thigh - but from a stretcher. No, not Connolly's stretcher, but a stretcher “near” Connolly, in Parkland Memorial Hospital, which was crawling with Secret Service, FBI And CIA agents.

The car, by the way, went down another rabbit hole. One investigator found a bullet-hole in the front windshield. The car was held and inspected by the Secret Service for 12 hours, but they took no pictures and made no report before turning it over to the FBI. The driver, according to many eyewitnesses and the Zapruder film, slowed the limo down in the seconds leading to and during the shooting.

“Nothing to see here,” said the U.S. Government. “Move along.” But you can see the bullet - still in pristine condition, except for a smudge or slight mark on the top - in the National Archives. Go look it up. Really, take a break and go look it up. Google it: “JFK, magic bullet, national archives.” It will help you understand just how completely dupable we-the-American-people are.

When the Warren Commission had to make this dreck stick, a Michigan congressman on the Commission got an idea - he would move the wound on the neck to make it more believable. It was Congressman Gerald Ford who changed the description of the wound - from the “lower neck,” to the “upper back.” Just different enough to steer the investigation into the gutter. Good for you, Gerald!

Also on the ground in Dallas that day was one future head of CIA-and-State, George H.W. Bush. Oh, it gets sticky. Journalist Russ Baker dug up some bones from the Yalie's closet and found that George Bush was there in Dallas. J. Edgar Hoover's FBI lists “George Bush” as a CIA agent in ’63. George H.W. Bush claims, to this day, that he “can't remember” where he was the day Kennedy was shot. But a day later he appeared a short plane ride away in a Texas town, where he called into the local FBI office and said that he had an idea who killed the President. Why? Russ Baker suspects, to set up an alibi: “I wasn't IN Dallas, I was NEAR Dallas!”

For doing whatever he did, George Bush, Sr. became head of the CIA, Vice-President and then President. For his magic bullet baloney, Arlen Spector was made Senator, practically for life. For moving the wound, Gerald Ford got to be President too, for a few minutes. Who says evil never prospers?

Up on the Hill

On the ground that day in Dealey Plaza, shots rang out. Smoke was seen rising from the fence to the right forward position of the car, up on a hill called the “grassy knoll.” A young deaf boy, Ed Hoffman, watched a man turning from the fence with a gun, walk, throw the gun to another man and walk on. The gun was disassembled, disappeared and removed down the memory hole.

Jean Hill, a feisty, brave young woman, was standing with her friend on the grass a few feet from the motorcade as it passed by. She watched the President have his brains blown out, backward, onto the trunk of the car. She and her friend thought the shots came from behind the fence and ran toward it to try to find the shooter. They were gathered up by intelligence agents, whom she tried desperately to give her testimony to. They told her she didn't see what she saw, to forget it, that the shots came from the upper window. She said, “No way.” But they insisted: “It was an echo. You're mistaken.”

But she never stopped telling her truth, the reality of what she witnessed with her own eyes that day. To me, she’s a hero. To the true believers of official stories, she's either a crazed nuisance, or they've never heard of her.

But it wasn't just Jean Hill. Fifty-one people on the ground heard and/or saw shots fired from behind the fence on the grassy hill. In video from the day, the crowd surges toward and up the hill, in the direction of the shots, to get the son-of-a bitch who killed their President. But the Warren Commission didn't give a damn. And there's a reason for that.

The Warren Commission was established in 1963 to investigate the assassination of the President. Who did they appoint to investigate all intelligence leads and witnesses for the official story? Our friend from the Central American Banana Wars, the United Fruit Company, lawyer for Bush family interests in Germany, kingpin of coup d'états, former head of the C.I.A. and proud member of the don't-worry-about-that-swastika-school-of-international-banking - the man you know as: Allen Welsh Dulles.

Go figure. Fired from the CIA to investigate the murder of the guy who fired him. I guess they really wanted to get away with it.

Death Bed

Since the murder, two men have come forward and claimed that they were assassins on that day. One was E. Howard Hunt - a known CIA operative and killer, a hard man. He was part of the Watergate break-in team that cost Nixon the Presidency. He and fellow dark dealers Frank Sturgis and Lucien Sarti were long suspected by theorists of being the gunman. In 2007, on his deathbed, he told his son, “I was at the ‘big event.’” And went on to talk about that day in Dallas.

In 1993, an Illinois prisoner named James Files went one better. He was a military “advisor” in Laos in the 1950s. He claims to have been court-martialed for killing two men in his squadron, in what he very cautiously describes as an operation to “save face” with the Laotian army. You can paint your own scenario, right out of “Apocalypse Now,” if you like. But it's more like one of the CIA's secret wars - Operation Phoenix.

He was a Roselli (mafia) driver, an ex-military covert operator and he was called to do the job in Dallas in February ’63 - enough time to do the planning and training. He claims to have fired the fatal shot from behind the fence. He says there were shots fired by two of the sniper groups at almost the same moment, one from the front (him) and one from behind. This could explain the very slight forward movement before the fatal shot that slammed John Kennedy “back and to the left” - the movement so obvious in the horrifying video. Again - as with 9/11 - you have to watch the horrifying video, even though it is excruciating, or you can't understand the issue entirely.

Files also claims to have bitten down on the bullet casing. He said it was something he did, a signature - to leave his mark. After that, he changed his name to protect his wife and child and moved on. But not far; he ended up in prison in 1991 for attempted murder of a police officer.

He gave his testimony on video tape. You can look it up online and judge for yourself.

You can ask yourself, why come clean? Maybe because of a burning issue of conscience. Maybe he grew wiser in prison. Maybe he's just seeking attention with a very plausible story drawing its energy from the giant fabrication of the Warren Report. Or, maybe it's the truth and he knows he can't be prosecuted for something the official story ruled out from the start. Maybe he's learned to believe in a higher power than the U.S. Government or mafia pay-offs and he wants to have a cleaner soul. Only he can tell you.

I'm Just a Patsy

One fact always escapes the official story: Lee Oswald never had a trial. Jack Ruby took care of that. Ruby's brother, in an interview, said Jack “didn't mean to kill him, he just meant to hurt him.” By shooting him in the stomach with a handgun at close range. (Ruby’s brother was auctioning off the gun when he made the statement.)

While Oswald was alive, he said that he hadn't been charged with anything - that he didn't know what he was being accused of. When he found out, he said, “I'm just a Patsy. A Patsy!” “Don't believe the so-called evidence,” he said to his brother in a phone call from jail.

He claimed that he hadn't even been at the window when the President was shot. He was sitting floors below, eating his lunch. And, for the record, his supervisor agreed with him.

Open Windows

Kennedy's motorcade was scheduled to proceed down Main street. So how did it come to roll under those open windows? And how did the Secret Service allow this insane failure of all protocol to proceed?

It's Secret Service procedure to safeguard the President, to keep him away from potential dangers, to frisk every bystander in a radius, to keep vehicles away from dead-ends, areas of triangulated fire and “duck blinds.” And far away from buildings with open windows.

But on that Tuesday in November, you can see, captured on video, the Secret Service agents running alongside the President’s car, who often stand on the small platforms directly under the rear bumper. You can see these men being waved off by the agent in the car pursuing. You can see them argue - What, you want us to what? We can't leave the President's car! They're called off again - they argue, raise their shoulders and arms in a “What? No way!” gesture. They are called back again. Eventually, they follow orders and leave the President's open-topped limousine naked and vulnerable - just as it turns the corner onto murder street.

You can still find this video online - look up, “secret service pulled off of JFK’s car.” I also took the footage and put it into one of my youtube videos. So, as long as the web is working for us, go have a look-see.

But, why were the windows open? Here we come to the other face of this coin. The man himself, John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was visiting three cities, Miami, Chicago and Dallas. A week before in Dallas, a bystander had spit on and hit UN ambassador Adlai Stevenson. Precaution should have been the word of the day. But the Secret Service allowed the limo's bullet-proof bubble-top to be removed. It allowed the parade route to be changed. The limo was supposed to head straight down Main street, past the plaza. It wasn’t supposed to turn right on Houston and then left on Elm, slowing to 10 miles per hour, under open windows.

How did this bloody thing happen?

JFK

John Kennedy became President in 1960. It was a stolen election, and the right wing never forgave him - or his father Joe - for pulling the mafia lever in Chicago. That windy city's mob was run by Sam Giancana - an associate of father Joe's. Sam Giancana had a girlfriend, or probably many, but one in particular: a dark-eyed, handsome woman named Judith Exner.

After John became President, he too had a girlfriend named Judith Exner. Some coincidence, huh? Nope. It was the same Judith.

What's important to understand is the law of proximity, of similars. These people play in the same sandboxes. The Bushes, the House of Saud, big mafia, big business, even big Hollywood. You make it big, you pass around the same phone numbers, the same party favors, the same secrets - you share the same world. And mafia was tied to the Oval Office in more than one way.

The CIA had actively been recruiting mafia, from Miami, Chicago and New York, to work for them as assassins. The CIA hired Sam Giancana (Chicago), Santo Trafficante (Florida) and Johnny Roselli (Chicago, Vegas and LA) to carry out assassination coups on Fidel Castro.

Richard Bissell, head of the CIA in the late ’60s and early ’70s, told journalist Bill Moyers on camera that he didn't regret trying to kill Castro, only that they hired the mafia to do it.

Mafia, generals and presidents; these guys play in the same sandboxes. That's all you really need to know.

Let’s Fake A Hijacking

By 1961, the CIA owned the world. Or, they felt that they should own it. One man got in their way. That skinny, drug-addled, whoring, upstart faker from Boston. Freaking Catholic, cooz-hound, pill-popping got-lucky-by-getting-injured-in-WW2 pretender. Or, that's how his enemies felt.

The CIA was run by three men and all would come to hate John Kennedy. Allen Dulles, of the Brothers Dulles; Richard Bissell, who piloted the Mafia-for-Castro operations; and General Charles Cabell, who hated Kennedy and called him a “traitor” after the Bay of Pigs.

But before the Cuban disaster, they had tried to get Kennedy to sign off on their adventures. But it wasn’t only the CIA who had destruction on their minds.

In ’61, the Joint Chiefs presented Kennedy with an operation called SIOP. It was a plan to - wanna guess? To preemptively attack any country in the world that had a nuclear bomb, who was not our ally. The plan called for an attack on all communist states if even one attacked us - or if we had information that one was going to attack us. We'd hit first - with nuclear weapons. A full pre-emptive strike would have sent 3,200 missiles to 1,060 targets in Russia, Asia and Europe. Boom. Die, humanity, die. Kennedy said, what are you, freaking crazy? “Revise it.” (Eisenhower before him said the plan “frightens the devil out of me.”)

So, no unilateral destruction. Back to the drawing board. The CIA then presented this jewel. Read it and tell me if it sounds familiar:

It was called Operation Northwoods. In 1962 they were going to dress up a military aircraft as a civilian plane, report it hijacked by Cuban military and crash it into Cuba or the sea. They were then going to bomb South Florida cities and Washington DC and blame Cuba - the 777-mile long, rural, tropical island 90 miles from the of the Florida Keys.

The goal: whip America into a war-frenzy against that terror of a banana-growing republic. A nation which didn't attack us, planes that were not really hijacked and cities attacked - by ourselves. This is what military historians call a “false flag operation.” (We'll come back to that.)

Kennedy said, “Er, uh. No.” And he said so emphatically. In 1962 he fired - FIRED - the top three CIA officers, Dulles, Bissell and Cabell. He told his personal military advisors, “I want to shred the CIA into a thousand pieces and scatter them to the four winds.”

How's that for a giant “Go fuck yourselves?”

And maybe they could have lived with that. But Kennedy didn't stop there. He signed something called NSAM (National Security Action Memo) 263. This document did something that no one on the Joint Chiefs of Staff could believe. It began the total pull-out of CIA “advisors” from Vietnam. Kennedy, that bastard, they thought, was going to end the Vietnam war before it began.

General Cabell had called Kennedy a traitor. He said it loud enough for people to hear. Cabell gave a talk in New Orleans. He was introduced by none other than Clay Shaw, Lee Oswald’s rabid anti-Castro, anti-Kennedy CIA handler. I'll bet Cabell also told his brother, Earle.

Earle Cabell was mayor of the big town of Dallas, Texas. I'll bet it was Mayor Cabell, brother of General Cabell, who gave the orders to change the parade route, to leave the sniper windows open, and to get the deeply corrupt and dirty police force their story before any of it even happened. “Lee Harvey Oswald is your man. Look for none other.”

War

And then the “why.” The most important part. The answer to the question is the consequence of the action. The consequence was that Lyndon Johnson was sworn in as President, standing next to the bloodied widow on Air Force One. Johnson stopped the Kennedy pull-out plan for Vietnam. A little over a year later, in 1965, he faked a story for the American people that U.S. Navy ships had been fired upon in the Gulf of Tonkin. This was what the military-industrial complex needed to pull off the gloves and drop the bombs that would murder generations of children in Southeast Asia.

Johnson later admitted that he lied; the Gulf of Tonkin attack did not happen. He also said, showing his discomfort, that he believed there was a conspiracy to murder John Kennedy.

Three weeks before, the CIA's puppet president in Vietnam was assassinated. A month earlier, Adlai Stevenson was attacked, spit on and hit with placards in Dallas, the hotbed for hard right-wing activity.

On the day Kennedy came through, anti-Castro activists were handing out fliers and putting up posters with two photos of JFK, replicating a “Wanted” poster. It said, “Wanted for Treason” for “Betraying the Constitution,” being a communist sympathizer and an anti-Christian.

In 1965, Malcolm X was shot speaking in front of a crowd in Harlem.

In 1968, John's younger brother Bobby ran for president, vowing to end the Vietnam war. After giving a warm and rousing speech in the Ambassador ballroom in Los Angeles, he was murdered amid a throng of people in the hotel kitchen. Bullet holes were everywhere. The official story pinned it on a confused, mentally-dilated pipsqueak, a Palestinian refugee named Sirhan Sirhan. But the wounds were in all the wrong places. Sirhan shot, supposedly from the front, but the wound came from behind. Sirhan was a few feet away, the bullet holes and burns came at extremely close range - inches from Robert Kennedy’s head, right behind his ear.

During the trial, Sirhan was found to be mentally incapacitated and suffering from blackouts, as though he had been, for lack of a better word, programmed or hypnotized repeatedly. The people in the room standing between RFK and Sirhan were clear that Sirhan did not and could not have shot Kennedy. Additionally, Sirhan fired 8 shots, but there 14 to be accounted for, including four in Bobby, five wounded bystanders and the rest as holes in the kitchen walls.

Months before, Martin Luther King, having spoken against the Vietnam war, was shot to death on a balcony in Memphis. The press and officials blamed a “lone gunman.” But even King's family didn't believe it was James Earle Ray - even after they spoke with him.

It was the CIA ’60s. And it still is.

And that's enough to get you started. The rabbit holes run this way and that: David Ferrie and his cancer experiments with rats; Barry Seal and cocaine into the Americas; LBJ “suspecting conspiracy;” Nixon always referring to the assassination as “that Bay of Pigs thing”; Kennedy and his back problems, popping pills for pain, injected by his own Dr. Feelgood, screwing starlets, mafia molls and his wife, too; Kennedy's body loaded onto Air Force One, the plane landing mid-way on the route back to Washington, the body clearly and now admittedly being altered, the position of the wounds changed to better fit the story that had already been written; the press having their Oswald story pre-loaded, replete with pictures and 'troubled childhood' details; Paul Groody, director of the funeral home that buried Oswald, testifying to investigator Jim Marrs that the FBI showed up with the gun and pressed Lee's dead palm to the rifle. “I had a heck of a time getting the black fingerprint ink off of Oswald's hands,” he said; Rose Cheramie, a drug-running party girl on Jack Ruby's circuit having fore-knowledge that hired guns were going to “kill Kennedy”; Jack Ruby, demanding to tell the true story before he quickly died of cancer in prison; Bobby Kennedy, telling his brother (as remembered by John's press secretary Pierre Salinger), “You know, if you go too far in negotiations with Khrushchev and with the Communists, you're going to get assassinated. People in this country don't want the President of the United States to make deals with the Communists.”

Yeah, well. Nobody ever listens to their kid brother.

About the Author (from the book)

Liam Scheff is a journalist, author, artist, radio host and stand-up lecturer on the contemporary myths of science, politics and culture.

He has broken national stories of pharmaceutical badness, been published widely in print and on the web, and has worked on and been featured in films that have not yet been banned by the state censors. To his credit, he's also been libeled on the front page of the New York Times (see Ch.6 of "Official Stories").

“Official Stories Poster Book v.1” is now available. This is the first companion piece to Liam’s ground-breaking book, “Official Stories,” and works perfectly with the text to illustrate, in colorful and striking words and images, that “Official Stories really do exist to protect officials.” The striking images in "Official Stories Posters" are not only visually stimulating - they are compact lessons in the history of the modern world. This 8.5x11 in. full-color, beautifully-printed book describes an artist's approach to investigative journalism by laying out big questions and answers in images. https://www.createspace.com/4158682

Liam is creator of “The Geneticals,” the world’s first vaccine-damaged superhero team. “The Geneticals” is an oversized 8×10, vivid, painstakingly and lovingly drawn and colored, beautifully printed book which pits the world’s first rag-tag group of vaccine-damaged heroes against the “Union of Uninterested Scientists.” The book plays lightly with the very real themes of vaccine-damage, but manages to point out a number of important details about what vaccines are, how they are grown, and how they work – or don’t; details that are always left out by the helpful mainstream media. https://www.createspace.com/4156363

Liam is also co-creator of “Summer of '74,” “The Unofficial, Unauthorized Story of How Star Wars Really Began – in Barstow, California, 1974,” and S74comics.com.

Find him on the web in print, on radio and in performance at liamscheff.com, reducetheburden.org, the FBI social network (facebook), and on the Robert Scott Bell show.
[Note: the URLs above are the originals from the book, that I’ve preserved as a historical artefact. They no longer work.]

Lies are Unbekoming

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