"Rieckhoff's anger is the rage of a patriot."
Richard Clarke
Author of Against All Enemies
So this guy in his late 20's who's a National Guardsman quits his job at J.P. Morgan on September 7, 2001, without having another job lined up. Then he just happens to play a major heroic rescue role down at Ground Zero (you have to read his wild recovery story I posted below. Cutting the old lady in half with a shovel was awesome dude!) Afterward he's mobilized, and serves as a First Lieutenant and infantry rifle platoon leader in the Iraq war from 2003-2004. Mow the motherfuckers down! Turkey shoot Najif!
Now he's the high-profile Executive Director and Founder of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America. And through it all, Paul Rieckhoff has been a regular media darling, peaking in summer 2003, when he was interviewed on CBS's 60 Minutes, where he expressed support for the war, saying, "America is making great strides." I found his Ground Zero story, excerpted from his memoir, at The Huffington Post, where he has a regular soap box. Rieckhoff's narrative is so over the top that it reads like a Fellini remake of Full Metal Jacket meant for the necrophiliac market---and since his 9/11 experience has been staring at us straight in the face, unseen over at HuffPo for a couple of years now, it's become empowered with a different kind of code.
Comparing Rieckhoff's version with the commonly accepted understanding of the physical reality of the loss present at Ground Zero should be clear to anyone. I see all his cartoonish personalization had the direct intention of motivating an unreasoned blood lust in American fighting forces, along with the willingness in the rest of us to turn a blind eye to it. Not only was America's entry into Iraq immoral and illegal, it carries the weight of the profound evil hidden within the false-flag nature of the triggering event. The Iraqi's knew this and resisted us with all their might, and we essentially lost the peace as a result.
That is why American veterans are returning so gravely wounded. In addition to their physical and emotional scars, it is their far deeper share of responsibility for the psychic and karmic harm done to the planet by "bad war." This damage can be cathartically purged and healed, but only with a collective effort at knowing the truth of the underlying matter---of all the matters going back as far as we can go. A U.S. Soldier Kills 5 of His Comrades in Iraq today---are we real yet?
This is why the pose of Rieckhoff's is such a fraud. Not only will it not move the issue forward, by not telling his own truth---and he can start by correcting his absurd Ground Zero ugliness---he is setting himself up in the direct line of fire to maintain our big secret. This blocks the essential first step to healing. Tell us your truth Paul, about 9/11, and Iraq, but most importantly, what came before 9/11, and amnesty will surely be given you. That all his new "liberalism" unfolds on shows like Keith Olbermann's, heavily weighted to one side of the binary at fault, is the central cognitive knot that needs untying.
If you'd like an example of some real veterans advocates, and true patriots too, see the high energy and hope at work in a rapidly developing movement called Oath Keepers.
Who knows---maybe Rieckhoff's gleeful sounding stories of finding women's body parts were actually legitimate 9/11 experiences---coded exoteric references to a set of ritualistic sex cannibalism that horrifies and enslaves the rest of the conspirators. With his bright, constant demeanor and his Mr. Clean bald head (he should avoid wearing all white,) he certainly looks to me like he could be Beelzabul's brother.
This is just too surreal. Watch Rieckhoff on The Colbert Report, an anti-war advocate for veterans rights, amidst the gales of laughter.
On Edit: Hey, wait a minute, Paul. (Don't even start with the Tarsus crap either.) I think I'm catching on here. You're already a confessed, shifted, forgiven, absolved and empowered dude rocketed into high gear? And you didn't even wait for me? I saw you bopping and beaming on the video and it was off-putting, because I thought you were on the bad team's side. But you're not still a murderous little death star like before? Cool! You have been transformed in the crucible of our millennial suffering? Well, that's why it was there. Now your light is turned up so bright, you can get on down low, and do good work. If this is the case---do you want the new you to retake your oath to the Constitution?
I'll let Rieckhoff take over from here:
Everyone has a September 11th Story. This is mine. It is an exclusive excerpt, from Chapter Six of my book, Chasing Ghosts.
I had quit my job at JP Morgan on Friday, September 7. I was planning to spend the day sleeping in late, going to the dentist, and taking the train up to the Bronx to play some golf. I tried to ignore it, but the phone on my bedside would not stop ringing. I figured something must be wrong, and I finally picked it up. It was an ex-girlfriend in Miami.
"Paul, turn on the TV." she said, calm but urgent. As I saw the first tower smoking on CNN, I went numb and heard her say, "Paul. This is what you have always been waiting for."
I had always complained that mine was a generation without a cause. Not anymore.
I bounded the stairs in threes to the roof of our building on East 24th Street. As I slammed the rooftop door the first thing I saw was the cloudless soft blue sky. It was a gorgeous day--a perfect day. The next thing I saw was the smoke smudging the sky's flawless color. I heard the cacophony of sirens and people yelling from Third Avenue below. I ran to the street from the roof and over to Broadway, where I could get a clear look at the towers.
Breathless and focused, I stood among a crowd of stunned New Yorkers with mouths frozen open, eyes wide. They were hypnotized. It reminded me of the scenes in Godzilla when everyone in Tokyo franticly jumped out of their cars, dropped briefcases, filled the streets and stopped everything to collectively freeze and look back-- before running like hell as Godzilla crashed through the city.
Then the second plane hit. We were in awe. Petrified but unmoved. No one ran. No one panicked. They just stared and cried.
Game time. Back in my apartment a few minutes later, I pulled a crumpled BDU set from a duffle bag on my floor and moved quickly. Training kicked in as I assembled my webgear in fast forward. I called my dad and told him I was going and ran out the door into the smoke and sirens. I got downtown sometime after the second tower fell.
In all my days of military training, I never imagined I'd be called on to serve in my own city. Grotesque scenes were everywhere. So was the heroism. For days, I was working in "the pit" alongside everyday New Yorkers trying to save our own. I worked with three firemen, a Port Authority cop and a guy who looked like a steelworker. Very little small talk. Just cooperative commands, grunts and labored breathing. And the sounds of people trying to choke back rage, sorrow and awe. Looking across the vastness of the wreckage, I remembered the first time I took in the magnitude of the Grand Canyon as a child. Pictures just didn't do it justice. Sirens roared so constantly that I stopped hearing them. We were all covered in a uniquely 9/11 coat of fine powder that a few guys called "the dust." A gigantic plane engine sat calmly uninterrupted on a street corner like a bizarre piece of modern art. My eyes numbed from the constant sting of the dust, and they had developed a scalding red color--just like everyone else's. A combination of incinerated drywall, soot, and the dead--the dust blanketed everything in sight and covered the streets six inches deep like fine gray doomsday snow.
We were hunched and tired, and had just finished digging out the bloated body of a corpulent older woman in a black dress. A stocky older fireman in front of me stopped and gasped. "Oh god. Oh Jesus. It's another lady," he murmured, and started to sob. Over his shoulder I saw what he saw: a black pump on her right foot poking out from behind some concrete and re-bar. And my head started to spin. I felt lightheaded. But it cleared as I tried to focus on moving the twisted metal around her. As we cleared the bigger rubble to pull her out, we found her clutching a black purse. This was somebody's mother. Somebody's wife. And she was smashed so thoroughly that when we finally got her freed to lift her out, her body flopped like a giant rag doll over our outstretched arms. Her face was unrecognizable and almost seemed fake. I had never seen anything like this. The bones were gone. All of them. Lifting her body felt like holding a big bag of skin filled with water. I found myself guiltily amazed that the human body could withstand such trauma without tearing. Her body had almost no cuts or abrasions, and no blood. Just every single bone in her body broken.
Later that day, as the bucket-brigades snaked into the smoldering chasm, a young guardsman called to me, "Hey sir! What do I do with this?" holding up a red paint bucket.
His question baffled me. We had been passing buckets back and forth for hours along the lines. Full ones were passed to the rear to be dumped near the Burger King.
"Pass it back!" I told him shortly. "Same as the others."
But he insisted, "No, sir! What do I do with this?" And as I looked at his face for the first time, his eyes swelled and his hands shook. He leaned his young frightened face forward to show me the contents. Inside was the right stockinged leg of woman, severed below the knee, black heel still on the foot.
The long cold refrigerator trucks parked next to the stacks of body bags. I stood on the pile and heard a man scream on the bucket line behind me, and turned to see his left arm erupt with blood. The swirling winds and helicopter rotors overhead had blown shattered glass off of a building somewhere stories above us, and sent it raining down like bullets. Architects and engineers warned us that at least three other buildings could still come down at any time, and kill us all. Everything was totally unstable. The deafening sound of three horn blows from the trucks, a warning to all in the area that another building might be coming down any second. It was the signal to run like hell if you wanted to live. It seemed like a command from God himself, workers dropped their tools and gear and sprinted north, like they done so many times that week. Despite the incalculable risks, they always came right back.
I never in my life have seen human dedication like I did during those days. Amidst the unimaginable horror, the way we worked together was a thing of beauty. A pure and selfless human devotion to our fellow man. The firemen, especially, worked literally until exhaustion. They whispered, inquiring about the friends and brothers they feared were trapped under it all. And they knew every second was precious. They had to be ordered by superiors to eat and take breaks--and would still sneak back onto the pile minutes later.
By the second day, FEMA workers and fire departments from as far away as California and Oregon were on the scene. They led search dogs that wore booties on their feet like socks to protect them from cuts. The dogs worked tirelessly and were never once wrong. Sometimes it would take hours of work, and the movement of tons of wreckage, but the bodies were always in the spot where the dogs indicated.
After some especially difficult digging, we found an older woman's body stuck beneath a mammoth block of concrete the size of a small house. In her wallet she carried a New Jersey license and pictures of her grandchildren. The women were always so much harder to deal with. It just hurt more. Concrete and steel locked her into the pit. The lower half of the body was solidly trapped and immovable. We pulled and twisted in vain to try to free her. Men poked tirelessly with tools and yanked at different angles, but we couldn't get her out. We were locked in a gruesome game of tug-of-war with the wreckage.
We all knew how many people worked in the towers. There were thousands. And we had no idea whether or not another attack was on the way. F-14s roared, curving around the tip of Manhattan low enough for us to see the numbers on their tails. Terribly concerned about fires and secondary explosions, we had to move quickly. All day we worked at a frantic pace to find the living and recover the dead. There we so many more we needed to save and this one body was slowing us down terribly. We worried that if a fire started, and we didn't get at least part of her out, her family would never know.
Those were days without good options. Fireman and cops are a lot like soldiers. Many nowadays are soldiers. When faced with a decision under pressure, we are all trained to think about the "80 percent solution"--a decent plan executed now is always better than a perfect plan later. We had no more time to spend on this one body. Limited on tools, a fireman had an effective and grisly idea. And we all agreed to it. It was a collective decision, and any possible repercussions would not be pinned on him alone.
Burned in my mind forever were the tears that streamed down his face as he raised a shovel high above his head and drove it thudding into her bloated midsection. We had cut her body in half at the waist. Half a dozen men wept in mournful awe as the young fireman continued to labor, until he realized the shovel was not sharp enough to cut through her spine. A young doctor rushed up and fell to his knees. As he lifted the scalpel, he fell in a heap, crying uncontrollably. The exhausted fireman with the shovel dropped his tool and put his arms around the doctor, saying, "Doc, you have to do it, man. You're doing the right thing. It's the only way we can get her out. You can do it, Doc." He nodded, choked back his tears and cut through the last resilient parts of her spine with his hands. It was the most macabre and selfless act I had ever seen.
Paul Rieckhoff, 33, is the Executive Director and Founder of Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America (IAVA). A non-partisan non-profit group with over 100,000 members around the world, IAVA was founded in 2004 and is America’s first and largest Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans organization. Rieckhoff was a First Lieutenant and infantry rifle platoon leader in the Iraq war from 2003-2004. He is now a nationally recognized authority on the war in Iraq and issues affecting troops, military families and veterans.
Rieckhoff created IAVA in June 2004 along with a few dedicated Veterans, a handful of volunteers, and some serious credit-card debt. In just four years, the organization has attracted hundreds of thousands of Iraq War Veterans and grassroots supporters across America. Whether you are an Iraq/Afghanistan Veteran or not, you can become a part of the new Veterans movement here.
There were none. The nature of the destruction precluded any hand digging and there was nothing to dig for. No one began to "work the pile" until after Building 7 was brought down and the towering core remains of Tower 2 were blasted late in the second day, after which it was too late to effect any rescue. Heavy machinery was brought in on the third day to begin the digging process. Through the careful release of select images and the constant repetition of phrases like "work the pile," a mental picture of reality was constructed within our collective consciousness that was completely at odds with the reality on the ground. "Bucket brigades" are traditionally associated with firemen and their work. Before the advent of mobile hand pumps, using a bucket to carry water from its source to the fire was the only available means to fight one. That function of a self-organizing system that spontaneously achieves its own optimum configuration in a time of acute peril, also carries with it a sense of working for the common good, and makes for its potency Collecting an archive of images from Ground Zero whose intention would express this idea about firemen at work, show instead the complete opposite---approximately constructed and posed vignettes of non-performing actors devoid of kineticism, meaning and any emotion beyond boredom and anxiety. All of the images in the public record that I have seen can be placed in the category of charades stage managed for public consumption. Sometimes hundreds of men are involved in these photo ops of faked scenes. In the image below taken from American Media Inc.'s commemorative publication, 9/11: One Year Later--- A Nation Remembers, over 100 men work with less than a dozen buckets, which doesn't seem optimal configured, or effective either. The caption reads: " BUCKET BRIGADES Rescue workers fan out in long lines, passing recovered debris from person to person." without telling us why the debris needed to be carried for that long a distance, or even what they mean by "recovered debris."
(Mario Tama-Courtesy of Getty Images)
Everyone within range at Ground Zero was a co-conspirator---to feather bedding and deceiving the public if not murder. Bucket brigades? They can't even pick up their own trash! History.Com puts it very carefully for the sake of future plausible deniability.
"Almost as soon as the Twin Towers fell on September 11, 2001, thousands of firefighters, police officers, construction workers, search-and-rescue dogs and their handlers and volunteers headed to Ground Zero to look for survivors. Because they didn't know how many people were trapped alive in the wreckage, firefighters and other rescue workers had to search carefully through the unstable piles of rubble for air pockets, called "voids," where they might find people who had been unable to escape from the collapsing buildings. To be safe, they didn't use any heavy equipment at first. Some dug with their bare hands, while others formed bucket brigades to move small amounts of debris as efficiently as possible."
Jeff Johns was a Transit Authority foreman and a volunteer "rescuer," who was also a production assistant for director Lou Angeli. I guess that means they couldn't find a New York City fireman willing to go on camera.
"I remember, the first thing, was you couldn't believe it. You just couldn't believe it. It was beyond the scope of imagination. It wasn't a building, it wasn't two buildings, it was blocks. Walking was almost impossible. When all the steel had intertwined, a shovel would just bounce off---if it hits one piece of steel it's going to bounce off. The only way to do it is to force your hands down in there and put it in a bucket. That's how most of the buckets were filled. "The most dangerous job site I've ever seen in my life. Just danger everywhere. But, ah, below your feet was why you were there. "There were no direct orders, no one person or group in command. Those in the bucket lines were solemn and intently focused. "You would find yourself moving further and further, up, around and down in to the center of ah, what used to be the towers. When you made it to the absolute front there was about four or five maybe six guys. That was the circle of digging, that was the circle of prying, of ripping, of cutting. And when you got there to the front, you didn't want to leave. I mean, you're there! If you're going to make a difference, that's the place to be. So you stayed there for as long as you possibly could. And for me, I stayed there until my hands didn't work anymore."
I was checking out a list of visitors to this site and was struck by two similar IP addresses spotted in close proximity.
Dept. of Homeland Security 204.248.24.161 Disney 204.128.192.8
I have always been area code vain. This made me wonder if 204 was a good address or not. Cryptome had opened my eyes to seeing these things as ranges, and I wondered if I would recognize any interesting patterns, so I checked my (limited) list and came up with this:
Caci Inc. Federal 204.194.77.3 Lockheed Missiles & Space Co. 204.27.176.5 McGraw Comment 204.111.140.66 NC Research & Education Center 204.85.11.25 New York State Assembly 204.97.104.30 Paramount Pictures 204.110.126.250 Pfizer Inc 204.114.196.11 Sewerage and Water Board of New Orleans 204.124.160.225 Suffolk County Dept. of Social Services 204.126.240.6 The Department of Defense Education 204.117.145.194 University Of Phoenix 204.17.17.249 WGBH Educational Foundation 204.152.12.16
The McGraw wasn't McGraw Hill, just a nobody who left me a message.
Extracting out this pattern left me feeling all of governed, medicated, educated, entertained, irrigated, and, yes, rather protected---oh, I mustn't forget, heard. Isn't that why anyone would want to recognize a pattern in the first place?
On Edit: Thin. Too thin. I'll tack this on down here to beef it up.
I got a sample taste on Google Books of Running Toward Danger by Cathy Trost, Alicia C. Shepard, Newseum, Tom Brokaw et.al., the compendium of journalistic 9/11 struggle and sacrifice. It's pretty good. I lot of these guys feel like old friends to me now.
The title made me think of Running with Scissors.
Nothing to really write home about though. A couple of names I'd never heard of before at the Pentagon that I could add to my list. I found it interesting that Shannon Stapleton says he was also with James Nachwey at the crucial period after the first building fell. Thomas Franklin says he was traveling with Nachwey too that day. It'll be interesting to lump all three in an archive and see if any logical inconsistencies in the story show up. Whoopie! Then what?
And who were Rowman & Littlefield Publishers I wondered? So I checked them out and spotted this: The Chickenhawk Syndrome: War, Sacrifice, and Personal Responsibilityby somebody named Cheyney C. Ryan, and I laughed, and knew, that whatever, God is at work.
I'll say...look how subtle and brilliant people are getting. Here's a blurb from the dust jacket:
"Great events bring out the best in people. This is a marvelous sampling of how outstanding journalists responded to the tragedy of September 11." David S. Broder Political Correspondent The Washington Post
Broder gives great blurb without really saying anything. But you can tell the good and the bad from the ugly.
"What makes these stories all the more compelling is that none of the newspeople knew when they came to work that morning that an assignment full of deadly risk waited for them, not in some distant battle scared, but very close to home." Lou Boccardi President, The Associated Press
Oh really Lou? Make mine Bacardi & Coke. Oops. La, de, da...whistle while you work...hum...de...de..hum..hum...I CAN'T HEAR YOU LOU!....
Wow. That took a sad turn. A new kind of anguish is when you have to let go of even your friends. The ones that gave you some satisfaction along the way, offering what you thought was genuine narrative---and there were very few. You recollect the meaning---really, it was pleasure, to finally came across a photograph with real emotion. But that's the meaning of a limited hangout isn't it? You get a little something good for you, but then you have to settle for it. You WANT to settle for it. It is your piece of a...FRIEND!
William Biggart's images were sold to us as being the most spectacular, and most tragic of the whole lot of in New York---stunning images which survived the collapse although Bill didn't. The only journalist to die that day. But Wendy dear, your blurb gives you away. For intellectual consistency's sake, I have come to see you in the only one context ever available. For your sake, I hope Bill was rendered someplace safe. I hope you're reunited---if that's what you want. Did the original briefing unfold as planned? How did they contract for this? Was it all about money? Or was it a more complicated offer you couldn't refuse? Well, you'll have to be forgiven, it's the only option, but the truth and reconciliation committee has a few questions for you now.
"This book tells one of the most important stories of the century---a story that changed not only the landscape of New York, but also the way people here in America and throughout the world view life. What other spot would a photojournalist rather be in?" Wendy Doremus whose husband William Biggart was killed while covering the attack
Anyway, Wendy, your quote above is wrong. The photojournalists took absolutely miserable images in New York. Not even a single image of the south face of Building 7 before it fell. Not a single image of the towering hulk of Tower 2's skeleton before it was blown late on Wednesday.
"The heroic acts of New York's firefighters would never have been documented without the courageous coverage of journalists who knew instinctively the were writing a tragic chapter in America's history." Peter L. Gorman, President, Uniformed Fire Officers Association, City of New York
Do you see how God climbs right into the grammar in the blurb above? Technically, it's true, because heroism wasn't documented. Show me a single image of a fire fighter doing something heroic that day. The Naudet film? Gag me! I had held up one image as a candidate---that of Mike Kehoe going up the stairs, but that was taken by an amateur anyway, John Labriola. My most cherished 9/11 memory was seeing him on ABC. He'd walked up to his sister's apartment in the West 60's, and she'd dragged him into the studio live. I remember him sitting there, and when it dawned on him that the men were going up while the building was coming down, he just burst into sobs. Tremendous video dudes.
An interesting bit of truthiness in one story though, in a recollection by Sara Kugler, a writer for The Associated Press.
KUGLER: Our little group ran into 20 Vesey Street. By then, I wasn't in the quote mode. I felt a lot better having a police officer with us, although he seemed scared. As the smoke and dust came right in it became difficult to breathe. That was scary. The officer decided we needed to be lower and directed us down a rickety staircase, with no lights, along this long, winding hall to a room where we found a fan. I was wearing sandals with a one-and-a-half inch heel. My shoe got caught on the stairs. I jiggled it free and then it got caught on the next one, but I didn't want to go barefoot.
In the room, there was a phone that worked, and the officer made a call. At one point, he hung up and left the room to check upstairs, so I picked up the phone to call the AP. He came back in and yelled, "What are you doing!" I told him, "I'm a reporter and I was just going to call my office." He yelled at me, "Fuck your job." So I hung up.
God, what a small moment. What a beautiful, tiny little moment at such a critical time on this great spinning orb.
When Mayor Rudolph Giuliani appointed Richard Sheirer to head the city's Office of Emergency Management in February 2000, little did he know the 55-year old Brooklyn native would oversee the rescue and recovery effort at Ground Zero from the day of the attacks until he retired in March 2002. That would be OEM Director for 19 months before 9/11 and 6 months after, then he quit to join the ex-mayor at his "consulting firm," Giuliani Partners.He started out as a fireman. Pretty impressive rise.
"I refer to September 11th as the unimaginable. I don't think anyone envisioned this kind of an attack. I did think we would experience some sort of biological attack at some time in the future, and of course that happened in October."
Half prescient, let's say. Twice that day, Sherier came within minutes of being at places that would have killed him. His first brush with death came that morning. After the first plane hit he raced to the command center in Tower One to oversee rescue efforts. After the second plane hit he was summoned to join Guiliani and other aides at an operation post several blocks away.
"If they hadn't called me over there, I wouldn't be having this conversation now," he said.
Then, later that morning, Sheirer and his staff planned to go to their headquarters at 7 World Trade Center. Fortunately, they were behind schedule.
"As we were driving toward the building, someone said, 'Forget about it, it's down.' If we had been on time, again, I wouldn't be talking with you."
I've had Peter Duveen envy for quite some time now, so imagine how delighted I was to find this hard copy on my shelves. 122 pages of more potential contradictions than you can shake a stick at.
9/11 One Year Later: A Nation Remembers is the title of a special commemorative edition put out at the one-year anniversary mark by American Media, Inc., whose Chairman, President & Chief Executive Officer is the deliciously named David Pecker. Produced at a time of supreme hegemonic dominance for the official version of 9/11, this is a bold, risky storytelling, before all the facts had really sorted themselves out actually. Today, its narrative reads like a parody of a puffed-up B-movie version of 9/11.
Is that because of the offices in sunny Boca, or because of all the interns sent over from the Enquirer?
Let me just enter a few of the names into the record---you don't want to get your names all bunched up on the witness lists late. Truth tribunals fill up fast you know.
Editor Jim Lynch; Deputy Editor Barry Levine; Managing Editor Nancy W. Miller; Photo Editor Ray Fairall; Associate Editors Bennet Bolton, Dan Weil; Senior Investigative Editor Reg Fitz; Had to look Reg up! Great piece in the National Enquirer there dude: 'Speed' star's nightmare as dad is jailed in cocaine bust.)
"Behind schedule?" "On time?" 14 months on the job and then he quits? With the level of talent behind 9/11, I'm finding the aftermath to be almost unendurable.
"No building collapse is ready before its time" Ernest & Julio Gallo
These four public figures are bound together by dint of the controversial remarks or essay writings they made in the immediate aftermath of the attacks of September 11th, 2001, which were widely reviled by a traumatized American public. Although their views span the ideological spectrum, they shared a tone deaf quality at odds with the collective experience of witness to that day. In this way, we can now tell each other apart---those individuals who were scripted agents of a conspiracy that plotted and massaged 9/11, as distinct from their intended audience, the unknowing souls who were shocked into a deep catharsis only they could know.
Taken together, the four can be viewed as cardinal points in a totally cohesive system that manufactures synthetic reality---both the false-flag version, and the regular varieties---wherein no element is left to chance, and both sides of every argument are undertaken. In hindsight, it isn't difficult to pick out the evidence of foreknowledge in the records of Coulter, Robertson and Falwell, who were all strident supporters of the Bush administration agenda from the start. But it came with a distinct understanding for me to see the noted critic of American imperialism, Ward Churchill, was also on the plot's payroll, tasked on the left flank with keeping the deepest layers of truth obscured while paying lip service to his liberal litanies.
The outraged blow back that cost Coulter and Churchill their jobs, and damaged the televangelists' standing and bottom lines, may have been planned out, or maybe not. Jonah Goldberg's canning of Coulter from the National Review Online on October 2, 2001, L’Affaire Coulter, Goodbye to all that, certainly sounds sincere from his end. But since a year later Coulter's new book was at number one on the New York Times best seller list, it's clear she adapted.
That the intense drama surrounding Churchill's opinion piece didn't surface until the beginning of 2005, over three years after its publication, begs the question how such an incendiary essay could be overlooked for so long. Churchill must have addressed inquisitive or antagonistic student audiences before, so what made it explode when it did?
I might hazard that a political issue needing defusing had arisen at that late point, so groundwork which had lain fallow, or perhaps had served another plan, was pressed into service to manufacture a scandal and deflect media attention in another direction---much like Nicholas Berg's organic beheading, coming when it did, coincidentally took the heat off of the torture images coming out of Abu Gharib.
"Well, it was about that time - it was the early afternoon -[on the 11th] I got a call from the woman [Faith Townsend Attaglia? Michele Cheung?] who was the editor of Dark Night Field Notes... She said, 'We need a from-the-gut response on this, and we need it in time to post it tomorrow.'"
She neglected to finish the stanza, "and we need it from you," while Churchill neglects to tell us he is---or was, in 1999 at least---on the editorial board of Dark Night Field Notes.
Dark Night Press says it "is dedicated to the liberation of the Native Peoples in the Western hemisphere. It is intended as a way for those deeply involved in the struggle for freedom to share their thoughts and experiences from the field."
Look: "The United States Government War Against the American Indian Movement," dated Nov. 3, 1999, to see how utterly riddled by FBI ringers this corner of the globe has been, at least since the early 1970's escalation of the Nixon White House. In that article, AIM specifically calls Dark Night Field Notes a "front-operation" and "a misinformation campaign."
The web site for the Dark Night Field Notes is so securely computer coded none of the links will open on my computer, but I note a log-in button for "Agents"---which doesn't look ironic at all to my eye---along with a funding request for a medical clinic run by the Black Panthers, and I can't decide if that is too heavy-handed or too subtle.
Whoever the readership may be, (and I imagine it is a complex issue,) why would the subscribers to such a secure journal as Dark Night Field Notes be interested in a timely reading of Churchill's digressive, non-scholarly work, tossed off---unbelievably, I'll throw in---not only in a single day, but on that particular day, under an imperative that it be ready the next day?
Well, my foremost reading of the Churchill's essay, Some People Push Back: On the Justice of Roosting Chickens, (which the Boulder Weekly article tells us was actually posted online sometime on the evening of the 11th,) is as a tutorial on American crimes specific to Iraq, particularly on the damage done to Iraqi children. An unavoidable confluence of feeling is the result, combining the shock and feverish emotions of the attacks underway in New York and Arlington that morning, with the sense of the fluttering souls of "half-million dead Iraqi children...all of them under 12." Churchill specifically pinpoints that detail---saying it was "the ghosts of Iraqi children who made their appearance that day."
Iraq is where Churchill's essay places the responsibility for generating the attacks of 9/11, just infaux-liberal fashion, he couches it as sympathy for a justifiable Iraqi rage and understandable desire for retaliation. Churchill is saying, in other words, that Iraq is his focus, because since it is rationally justifiable that they should have been the perpetrators of the attacks of 9/11, it therefore would follow that if somebody else did it, then they did it for Iraq.
He makes that point explicit in the Boulder Weekly quote:
An even more succinct form of this would have it: Iraq should have attacked America, and if Iraq didn't, then Iraq is wrong.
"Ann Coulter, in her famously intemperate column of September 13, 2001 This is War, said this exact thing:
"This is no time to be precious about locating the exact individuals directly involved in this particular terrorist attack. Those responsible include anyone anywhere in the world who smiled in response to the annihilation of patriots like Barbara Olson.
"We don't need long investigations of the forensic evidence to determine with scientific accuracy the person or persons who ordered this specific attack. We don't need an "international coalition." We don't need a study on "terrorism." We certainly didn't need a congressional resolution condemning the attack this week."
However, this part of her message did not make a fuss as it was drowned out by all the media attention given to her better swimmers---but by ignoring what's under the public's nose, the idea is empowered into a type of code.
This thesis: that a bonding of a singularly Iraqi ectoplasmic presence tightly to the visceral memory of the day of the September 11th attack itself, is verified when Churchill later appended an undated 439-word "Addendum" to the bottom of his essay. Its purpose is limited and clear:
"The preceding was a "first take" reading, more a stream-of-consciousness interpretive reaction to the September 11 counterattack than a finished piece on the topic. Hence, I'll readily admit that I've been far less than thorough, and quite likely wrong about a number of things.
"For instance, it may not have been (only) the ghosts of Iraqi children who made their appearance that day. It could as easily have been some or all of their butchered Palestinian cousins."
Churchill uses up the rest of his words on a laundry list of American outrages against the Indochinese, Korean, Japanese, German, Filipino, American Indian, Middle Passage Africans, and Chinese, but he corrects no errors, and by thoroughness he means only to offer up a contextualizing list for his formerly single-minded focus on Iraqi.
How clearly it is done, wherein the shadow can be evoked and given its mandate. In naming September 11th as a "counterattack," while calling up fresh spirit-ghosts from the last great American slaughter---the Iraqi harvest of the 1rst Gulf war---Churchill is playing with some powerful death mojo here. Whatever mystical or alchemical scenarios took place down at ground zero, they gave rise in our warriors a desire for dark-side retribution---we were told this on Face the Nation---a revenge which led not only to illegal and immoral war, but to especially abusive ones. This is the wound to our spirit that will be hard to overcome.
But it woke me up, so I thank them for it. As we are without a doubt moving out from the darkness of plausible deniablity and into the light of a clear paper trail.
Eventually Churchill redid the "work," turning it into what is credible for him---a 21,791-word essay The Ghosts of 9-1-1: Reflections on History, Justice and Roosting Chickens, annotated with a scholastic 179 footnotes, which was "published" in 2005. But this makes it incredible for him to have written something so sub-essay-esque to start with, on a day that "will forever live in infamy," then racing to electronically position it for some clandestine purpose online, But most odd, when it does become an issue, (for whatever synthetic reason,) he doesn't simply beg our forgiveness for his overwrought and under-diagrammed prose and apologize for his rough first draft. An apology worked for Jerry Falwell.
Churchill isn't lacking in professional integrity here, he's lacking in the fundaments of reality.
Staying with this theme, the actionable essay is officially maintained on the weird web site of a certain kersplebedeb, which is the link given in the Boulder Weekly article, and it was first seen there in a bot crawl on June 26, 2002. This could realistically be considered its open publication date. The relationship between Churchill and kersplebedeb is never explained properly, but a failed attempt is made on page titled, "why this article is on this website," so we know they know to ask the question.
But let's get a grip here, shall we? The business of life in America came to a screeching halt that morning (...except for some people, like the initiated...) Why would an obscure private-source journal speaking ostensibly to a tiny audience of heavily infiltrated and schismatic American Indian Movement members "need" to publish this opinion on September 12th?
Churchill has a major problem just maintaining a logical tense in his claim he wrote the piece on September 11th. He says for instance,
"Indeed, even the FBI's investigative reports on the combat teams' activities during the months leading up to September 11 make it clear that the members were not fundamentalist Muslims. Rather, it's pretty obvious at this point that they were secular activists."
Pretty obvious at what point? When he writes "since September 11," he's really saying, "since this morning." And he uses the term "combat teams" as his sole reference for what I know as "hijackers," or "terrorists," at least half a dozen times. Where did that off term come from?
Coupling this with the fact of not one reference to any actual person or event unfolding during the course of the day, along with his detachment from all emotion except anger, and I think it fair to surmise Churchill's essay was a philosophical position paper, written in advance of the date, and deconstruct it accordingly. The master Churchill is serving here is Straussian, not the Iraqi children he professes to with such distinct hypocrisy. Churchill is a very good double agent.
Now, here we can deal briefly with Churchill's infamous chef d'oeuvre remark, "little Eichmanns," a device I've personally identified when I spot it as "letting the Jews into the room so they can suck out all the air"---in other words, "...its all about us..." Or as the French would say, á la Mumbai, which describes the political expression like the recent Muslim on Hindu attack in the city of the same name, which also includes in an incongruent side story of Jewish suffering and vulnerability.
Earlier in his essay, Churchill spoke about the "onus of collective guilt," while twice using the term "good Germans" to describe those bureaucratic functionaries who make the choice to look away from evil rather then engage it. In doing so, he gratuitously "uses up" the option to equate "little Eichmanns" as being synonymous with the meaning of the anonymous "good Germans."
I hazard that a special meaning is meant in his use of the term, since the containing paragraph is an exceedingly strange container in an essay which is itself a standout in his corpus. It starts off in an odd vein of sarcastic vernacular, which Churchill then mines into a sort of open-dump categorization, where everyone is "braying incessantly and self-importantly into their cell phones," which shows us the emotions 9/11 brought up for him.
The term "little Eichmanns" cannot mean functionary or technocrat, as Churchill tried to amend later in a parry nonetheless, because he'd just used up that meaning, calling them "good Germans." "Eichmann" can only mean "bad German," with "little" meaning "not as effective an example of."
In the full context as Churchill expressed himself, his meaning couldn't be more simple and clear: that these people, many of whom he/we "saw" leaping to their deaths from the upper stories of the towers, got exactly what they deserved---a "proportional penalty equal to the passivity of their participation."
"If there was a better, more effective, or in fact any other way of visiting some penalty befitting their participation upon the little Eichmanns inhabiting the sterile sanctuary of the twin towers, I'd really be interested in hearing about it."
Janitors, waitresses, or even infants and girlfriends, for that matter, can be included in a compound form called "functionaries to the technocrats;" necessary, like ball bearings, to the meaning, and required for consistency---if you can see Mussolini's mistress hanging upside down in your mind's eye as I can.
All of this was exactly counterparted in Falwell's and Robertson's explicit directing of blame by pointing the finger at "the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians...the ACLU, People For the American Way." By the way---the last six words in Churchill's 5,140-word essay are "There is justice in such symmetry."
But what makes Churchill's sentiment unnerving, and vicious even, is that his only mention of the human toll of that day is to call it just desserts. Is his mien of cold detachment the "from-the-gut response" he says he was charged with? Was his essay received with such anger because it was no good---which is the ultimate meaning of demeaning? I often touch upon these same sore subjects, but I put some effort into it at least, and I've never been treated to such a response---at least not yet.
Churchill's primary mission is to reinforce the central facts of the official version---that Muslims flew airplanes into buildings, and that destroyed them.
I believe that "little Eichmanns" carries a special meaning, one which Hannah Arendt established in Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil, but one which couldn't be expressed until now. "Little Eichmann" refers to the banality of these particular reports of evil---the train schedules, showers, ovens; an old man calmly being hung. In current parlance: planes, Muslims and videotape.
The rise that comes up off of little Eichmann stems from the core fabrication behind the story of the holocaust. If we have come to see that we were lied into a war, can't we also see that we were lied out of one?
So, Churchill is a bookend to Coulter's intentionally infuriating diatribes. They represent a false polarity, artificially established and maintained as being representatives of life-giving yin and yang, only now we know they are not. They can only function like walls in a padded room---useful to bounce off of, sometimes, but that is all.
Churchill's essay is littered with the effort to extract and extend the maximum amount of fear possible in the consciousness of anyone paying him any mind. This fear factor is equally true in Rev Falwell's and Rev. Robertson's speech--especially gruesome coming from ministers we think of as called to comfort their flocks.
Find a logic in statements such as these of Churchill's:
"There is no reason, after all, to believe that the teams deployed in the assaults on the WTC and the Pentagon were the only such...
"To the contrary, there is every reason to expect that there are many other teams in place, tasked to employ altogether different tactics in executing operational plans at least as well-crafted as those evident on September 11, and very well equipped for their jobs.
Well, I might think, if I were a "terrorist" who wanted to stand up to an abusive power, that I'd put my very best effort into my first shot--you don't get many second chances like that in life, now do you? The legitimate ingredient in the success of the attacks was the element of surprise, which is then lost forever. How a college professor could be so ignorant, and how we all good be so ignorant too, is testament to the efficacy of their fear mongering campaign of.
[Insert image of orange-suited Guantanamo inmates on their knees here.]
Churchill is like the Energizer Bunny---he does go on:
This is to say that, since the assaults on the WTC and Pentagon were act of war – not "terrorist incidents" – they must be understood as components in a much broader strategy designed to achieve specific results. From this, it can only be adduced that there are plenty of other components ready to go, and that they will be used, should this become necessary in the eyes of the strategists. It also seems a safe bet that each component is calibrated to inflict damage at a level incrementally higher than the one before...
Here he seems almost to be bragging to knowledge of false-flag authorship within a shadow structure---since what was achieved was the specific result the attacks were designed for---"by his fruits you shall know him," it says in some other essay.
Since Churchill never addresses concepts such as potential false-flag authorship, or its concomitant---the real elephant in his living room---Jewish abuse of power, I suspect he's guilty of both. Just look at his cheap fear-mongering:
"This time, somewhere, perhaps in an Afghani mountain cave, possibly in a Brooklyn basement, maybe another local altogether – but somewhere, all the same – there's a grim-visaged (wo)man wearing a Clint Eastwood smile.
"Go ahead, punks," s/he's saying, "Make my day."
Of what will it consist this time? Anthrax? Mustard gas? Sarin? A tactical nuclear device?
That, too, is their choice to make."
This isn't nihilism so much as nonsense coming from a collage professor, but what is being revealed is the pathological insider's world view, free of the rationality of love and hurt and loss that binds up the collective world view for us outsiders. Sometimes keeping the secrets can be more disempowering. Especially such rigorously kept destructive messages.
I do not want to create or inhabit any part of the world Ward Churchill sees, and thus projects and creates. He is not of my tribe---not "one of us," born again on that day of 9/11. My intended audience in making such a statement will be able to easily decide for themselves if this code resonates with them. If not, Mr. Churchill's passionately articulated commitment to eradicating injustice will always still be there as an option, but in my opinion, it doesn't work anymore. When Churchill says, obscurely, that
"Braided Scoundrel-in-Chief, George Junior, lacking even the sense to be careful what he wished for, has teamed up with a gaggle of fundamentalist Christian clerics like Billy Graham to proclaim a "New Crusade" called "Infinite Justice" aimed at "ridding the world of evil."
He is carrying water for our team. I can see the compartmentalization of all the players---the academy types kept apart from the category of zealotry, then jealous of their face time with junior. To be a Zionist in bed with a Rev. Hagee has to be tough thing. The bitch goddesses and the Jewish landlords get to bring up the rear.
Churchill's displayed agenda and core missions, as an official agency asset then are:
Endorsement of Official 9/11 Theory Components: Muslims, Planes, Victims, Heroes,
Boldly Link Iraq Directly to the 9/11 Attacks
Incite & Manipulate an Atmosphere of Terror & Fear
Defend/Never Question Jewish and Israeli Self-Interests
Total Acceptance/No Accountability for American Government Failings
Infiltrate & Subvert Native American & Leftist Politics
Falwell's and Robertson's performance is much easier to deconstruct as it all takes place on the single level of what they think they reveal and what they think they shield.
First, watch the 1 minute and 22 second segment of the 700 Club interview from the morning of September 13, 2001. This is all that is found in the public record for now. The clip represents perhaps only a tenth of the total interview, but it will give you a flavor of the slick energy and graceful coordination underlying their presentation. In no way was this a casual or accidental exchange---nor do they appear to be visibly effected by events.
It is quite interesting to me that a publicly broadcast live television show of such great topical interest could appear to effectively disappear, squashed by the heavy hands of some power-that-be. This is the way reality once was managed, before the internet came into existence and complicated the game. But I just know that somewhere in the wilds of Tennessee or Kentucky one very devote old lady has kept her daily tapings of the 700 Club safe as her tribute to the Lord, and we're going to get our hands on them, because, I imagine there has to be something there to account for this.
My supposition also stems from my recollection of once having seen the tape of the show, which begins with Robertson's memorable opening line, "Jerry, it's a delight to have you with us today! I recollect I was stunned by his lack of presence---or maybe decency, or decorum. Robertson choice of the word "delight" was a failure to mask his subconscious---and his ego even. 9/11 was going to be good for business!
Falwell let's slip his excitement in a grammatical glitch, after Robertson asks him, "Do you think that this is going to be the trigger of revival, a real revival in the Church where we truly turn back to God with all our heart?"
Falwell answers back, "It could be. I've never sensed a togetherness, a burden, a broken heart as I do in the Church today, and just 48 hours, I gave away a booklet I wrote 10 years ago. I gave it away last night on the Biblical position on fasting and prayer because I do believe that that is what we've got to do now-- fast and pray."
I think he wanted to say, "and just 48 hours into the New World Order too, think of that," but caught himself, so he begins to stumble, inelegantly putting the focus on his generosity rather then the Biblical position
The depth of the political equation behind religion's descent into worldly power is readily on display, despite Falwell's faulty logical progression
"Hitler's goal was to destroy the Jews among other things, and conquer the world. And, these Islamic fundamentalists, these radical terrorists, these Middle Eastern monsters are committed to destroying the Jewish nation, driving her into the Mediterranean, conquering the world. And, we are the great Satan. We are the ultimate goal."
The engendering of fear and the blaming of Muslims (three country's full) is shameless:
JERRY FALWELL: And I fear, as Donald Rumsfeld, the Secretary of Defense said yesterday, that this is only the beginning. And with biological warfare available to these monsters; the Husseins, the Bin Ladens, the Arafats, what we saw on Tuesday, as terrible as it is, could be minuscule if, in fact, if in fact God continues to lift the curtain and allow the enemies of America to give us probably what we deserve.
PAT ROBERTSON: Jerry, that's my feeling. I think we've just seen the antechamber to terror. We haven't even begun to see what they can do to the major population.
I ask you to compare Falwell's and Robertson's rhetoric with Arafat's little known expression of condolences after the attacks, as found I could find only in Irish source, the Thomas Crosbie archive:
"Arafat and his top advisers huddled at his seaside office in Gaza City, watching the events unfold on television. Arafat later emerged to speak to reporters.
"We are completely shocked. It's unbelievable," he said. "We completely condemn this very dangerous attack, and I convey my condolences to the American people, to the American president and to the American administration, not only in my name but on behalf of the Palestinian people."
Such sentiments of identification with Israel's "plight" were neatly echoed dozens and scores of times in the aftermath of 9/11, although the mention of barbarians might be the first in the record.
Falwell drops a name for some reason:
"I talked this morning with Tom Rose publisher of the Jerusalem Post, an orthodox Jew, and he said, "Now America knows in a horrible way what Israel's been facing for 53 years at the hand of Arafat and other terrorists and radicals and barbarians."
It is interesting that Falwell brought up this name. Rose, an arch-conservative, was hired as publisher of the Jerusalem Post in 1998 and fired in 2004. In 2002 he hired Bret Stephens "a 28-year-old neoconservative wunderkind," to edit the paper, and he must have lived to regret it, since the pair remain locked in a court battle over some rather nasty personal things that were said. Stephens moved on to a slot on the editorial board of the Wall Street Journal and a resume like that literally squeals "Company employee" in my ear. So, I wonder if Falwell wasn't just making gratuitous small talk, but showing off his props code instead.
(The New York Observer really was the best at reporting this sort of story. I'll be sorry to see it go if it does.)
But the crux of the problem in the Middle East is encapsulated in an editorial Rose wrote for The Jerusalem Post called CLINTON'S FLAWED SYMMETRY, where Rose hazards "the main problem is that Israel's intense desire for peace has raised expectations to astronomical levels on the Palestinian side, including the hope that Israel will commit suicide for peace."
Comments such as this---wherein Rose combines paranoia, schizophrenia, and suicidal ideation, with dissociation, projection, and rank, utter stupidity, may indicate a diminution is occurring in the collective Jewish consciousness rather than its ascension. I will say that if I had to enter into the sorts of political contracts that AIPAC, and Jewish Zionistas made with the millennial conservative Christian movement, as represented by the likes of Rev. Hagee and the late Rev. Falwell, I would also likely express such demented views. So maybe it would be best if Jews just stayed in their own heads, and stopped projecting anything---one way or the other.
As his CV states his goal is to "advance public policy concepts from a conservative, Jewish-Christian worldview on the Bauer & Rose Radio program," therein may lie the problem, as it isn't good for two of the West's major religions to gang up on the third, the way the did, for starters, with the illegal invasion of Iraq.
OK. Time to get to Ann.
In her famous 9/13/01 piece in the National Review Online, "This Is War: We should invade their countries. With it's famous quote:
"We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity. We weren't punctilious about locating and punishing only Hitler and his top officers. We carpet-bombed German cities; we killed civilians. That's war. And this is war."
She was forced to backtrack somewhat. In an interview published in the Washington Post on October 2, 2001 by Howard Kurtz, National Review Cans Columnist Ann Coulter The Washington Post, she was clarified thusly:
"Coulter says her line about "convert them to Christianity" has been misconstrued and was aimed at those celebrating the attacks. "I wasn't talking about Muslims generally," she says. "I was talking about the crazed homicidal maniacs dancing in the streets."
There are two major issues wrong with this treatment. One, is the forgotten lead-in to the original quote about "convert them to Christianity", which to my mind is acceptable hyperbole. But what preceded that statement is the more actionable opinion. Coulter first wrote,
"We don't need long investigations of the forensic evidence to determine with scientific accuracy the person or persons who ordered this specific attack."
Ann is right: war is war. But illegal and immoral war is a crime against humanity. So setting forth to attack any and all handy targets that might possibly be responsible for the attack, is the height of cruelty and stupidity.
Furthermore, her narrowing down of the targets of her ire: "I was talking about the crazed homicidal maniacs dancing in the streets."
The only problem with this though is, I've proven to my satisfaction that all the many images of Palestinians and Arabs celebrating in the streets in the aftermath of the Tower's destruction, were false, stage-managed false-flag public relations stunts, most likely a false-flag effort by Israeli agents.
I will repeat Arafat's expression of sympathy:
"We are completely shocked. It's unbelievable," he said. "We completely condemn this very dangerous attack, and I convey my condolences to the American people, to the American president and to the American administration, not only in my name but on behalf of the Palestinian people."
The difference between the sincere truth and the synthetic manipulation is becoming more and more clear every day.
I want to intrude here to say a little something about names like these: Stories that Matter, Girls with Wings, Research In Motion Dark Night field Notes Steven War Ran a lit-tle some-thing
Press here. Little NooB Grant J. from Cornell University had this to say:
Grant J. posted this on April 29th, 2009 @ 10:48:26 pm
Amazing thread which I have not read until now. This alone made it worth not doing work I desperately need to do:
"Perhaps an explanation for Riskus’s time lag could be that he only roused himself from a deep dope lethargy"
I didn't make it any further due to laughing so much at "deep dope lethargy".
Ha! 128.84.212.202. I will drag your IP address through the numerological mud my dear! One minute and 20 seconds to devote to stevenwarran? You little bitch.
Hi McDuh! I have a Bimbo shirt too, except mine's short sleeve because my dosha is pitta. So, what's your point in this photograph? Not filling out your tees in the shoulder department yet? What about that male pattern obesity thing? You have good taste in women but horrible taste in eyewear! San Fransisco can be so provincial darling! Steady there big guy!
Anyway, I just wanted to say hi before I jetted off to Rome for two weeks in May. Simon Shack has invited me, you see, to come stay in his crumbling mansion outside of Rome. I don't think I'll be live blogging from there---I'm sure you understand---nor Twittering much for that matter.
When I was in Costa Rica for two weeks in March I was going to blog about all the operatives who were desperately trying to penetrate my assets---and now I've gone and forgotten all their names! I real writer would have taken notes!
Anyway, so I shared my Top Secret files with the nice Canadian number, and he deserves a cash bonus for a job well done. He certainly was creative in preserving the goods, and a really sweet guy in the bargain. Keep em comin' asymmetrically!
So why do I look like I have the hangover?
His friend, the Polish physicist with the Oxbridge accent, was also very nice, but just in his own way. I say $10,000 in an envelope would be good for him.
I didn't know that I could act like such a mule sometimes! Flying into Costa Rica from New York, then traveling into Nicaragua, and then back into Costa Rica---all in the same day---would leave me looking so suspicious. The frontier guard (and I'm talking mean grimace and big School-of-the-America's biceps,) just laughed and laughed at me. I made daddy laugh!
I must tell you BCO'ers, that retiring from the Hurley-Burley of the rat race at age 50, combined with an upgrade to first-class travel, sure is a splendid payout for job well done. I hope that you all get the same treatment. But that's enough about you. Where do you think I should go for my two-week trip in July?
I was the first to predict the secessionist movement---over two years ago, in March 2007. (Although I misspelled it.)
Prescient, I am, but me bad speller.
Khalid Shaikh Mohammed was waterboarded 183 times in one month? Time to stop projecting the shadow and do something.
Comment moderation at the NYT is running very slowly. My two pithiest comments are
April 20, 2009 8:39 am
183 times? They should call it waterbored.
— stevenwarran, southampton, ny
April 20th, 2009 10:57 am
WWJT? — stevenwarran, southampton, ny
On Edit:
Just to remove my "Die motherfuckers, die!" from above, and to place it down here in the "timeout chair" until it settles down.
P.S. So, I called the FBI at 212-384-1000 this morning, and pressed option 2 for, "Joint Terrorism Task Force," and some schlomo picked up the phone on the first ring, and said, "Agent So-and-So-the-Mo-in-the-Mojo," and I asked him, "did we really waterboard Khalid Shaikh Mohammad 183 times?" And the little schlemiel hung up on me! Just like that!
The hateful website that can't mention my name lest they lose their Jim Hoffman franchise. Well, they can have him. The following partial list of search terms return stevenwarran blogs AT NUMBER ONE! So let's see who wins! 9/11 Flogger, or the WAR RAN. (I've got to get my Blair Bozek numbers up, I admit. And I need to stay humble.)
On Edit:
Just to remove my "Die motherfuckers, die!" from above, and to place it down here in the "timeout chair" until it settles down.P.S. So, I called the FBI at 212-384-1000 this morning, and pressed option 2 for, "Joint Terrorism Task Force," and some schlomo picked up the phone on the first ring, and said, "Agent So-and-So-the-Mo-in-the-Mojo," and I asked him, "did we really waterboard Khalid Shaikh Mohammad 183 times?" And the little schlemiel hung up on me! Just like that!
On More Edit 4/22:
I just thought up another one:
Waterboarded 183 times in one month?
Ticking calender.