Answering Those "Why?" Questions . . .

It’s hard to explain to most people the frustration I feel everyday when I add to the number representing the young men and women killed in Iraq and Afghanistan the day before. I suppose the reader here must wonder at that, thinking it’s none of my affair or responsibility. The people who call themselves American, ignoring everyone else in half a planet, have vague conceptualization where words like “responsibility” are concerned.

The people of the United States speak only of “rights” – not responsibility.

But – reference my own attitudes - maybe not, especially as I’m doing more than most to see this nightmare ended. I write dozens of letters on the subject weekly, to any and all the people who might have influence on events. For a time, I corresponded continually with troopers in Iraq; that, of course, has ended since I forwarded the truth about their morale and all the rest to federal liars and apologists like FoxNews and the rest.

Pissed off with people like Sean Hannity, Bill O’Reilly, and the Bush League sycophants, I thought then that was the right thing to do. Once more, as so often in the past, I overestimated – gave far too much credit to – the military and its miscreant commander-in-chief.

Enough. Four months before the United States invaded Iraq, I wrote to the President, the Vice-President, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, and to the Speaker of the House. I sent copies of the letter to the major media, too. In the letter, I importuned the President not to attack Iraq, and to forego the carnage that I knew would ensue. “Don’t kill all those women and children,” I pleaded. “If you really want Saddam Hussein killed, I’ll do it for you. I require only an unlimited expense account in a manner similar to that of the CIA – no one in the U.S. government can be trusted to be privy to something like this –, but I will promise to complete my mission for an expenditure only a tiny fraction of what invasion and the twenty year of occupation that will be necessary in the war’s aftermath.”

The mission, I said, could be accomplished for less than two hundred, fifty million dollars.

I went on to say that in his position he would certainly be able to get all the records and information necessary to convince him that I could do everything I was saying, and that I had no doubt that all the records required still existed. I included a tactical operations plan in sufficient detail to make it clear that I knew what I was talking of. Of course, record of my operations during Operation Mongoose – so named after me – would also serve to corroborate my admittedly surprising assertions. Finally, and in my letter to the President, I included material demonstrating the effectiveness of my own operations against the government he now heads. The argument I made was a powerful one, it being similar in method to one I’ve made several times before having to do with other operations of the kind.

Of course, nothing happened. There may be several reasons for that. First, of course, there is the obvious, that the powers that be simply wrote me off as a Rambo wannabe bull-shitter. Things like 9-11 suggested things in the Bush League of government are that poorly done. So, maybe. But suppose the FUBAR Bush League were a tightly-run ship. Suppose further they really did want Saddam dead; say, even, that they really did give a good god-damn (yeah, I know that’s pretty far-fetched, but we’re just supposing here, huh?) about the people he was supposedly torturing and killing. Let’s suppose even further, and say the White House didn’t want to run the nation into debt the hundreds of billions of dollars necessary to invade, occupy, and – well, everything that’s happened and is happening.

I know we’re so far “out there” that we’ve stretched the imagination of anybody but an ideological automaton like Ann Coulter, a Sean Hannity, or a Rosie O'Donnell (I haven't, obviously, space in which list all the loons being foisted on the public today by the media) to the breaking point, but just suppose.

So you get a letter from a guy who, when he checks out, you know can do this thing. When you’ve perused the file Department of Defense and the rest have coughed up, there’s damned little doubt in your mind that anybody this guy goes after is meat on a hook. He’s that damned good. What would you do?

Well, let’s keep “supposing.” Let us suppose, for a minute, that I had infiltrated (no, not just me – it’s not done that way . . . usually) Iraq and its upper echelons of government. Let us suppose further that my team and I had killed Saddam Hussein. What would have happened to, for instance, Halliburton Corporation’s stock and profits? DuPont and the rest of the military industrial complex? All that stock in all the weapons merchants, the dealers in death?

Your turn. You’re the CEO or a lobbyist for Halliburton or another industrial military complex corporation, and you hear not only the impossible – dammit, you had a deal - that you’ve got competition, but your competition is undercutting you by hundreds of billions. In fact, he’s talking millions, not billions. You’re about to lose around a cool three hundred billion dollars . . .! What do you do?

While you’re at it, just for fun, imagine that you’re a stockholder in one of the military industrial corporation companies.

Yeah. That doesn’t take Clausewitz or a rocket scientist to calculate, does it?!

But – ask FoxNews or any of their like – “That’s fantastic.”

Another possible reason, too, that my offer to “off” Saddam was rejected is that I’ve been “discredited.” After all, in the first place, I refused to shoot Fidel - a little thing about killing the citizen of a foreign country during time of peace – undeclared war, anyway. There was also the fact that everything I had been told about Castro, by media and military, proved to be a lie. Operations like that one, matter of fact, would keep some Johnson and Nixon era politicos on the hot seat for years. Salvador Allende in Chile, for instance.

The world’s nations have law, too, you know, and they do take a dim view of killing their people – even when it’s convenient for the Home of the Brave Nation of laws.

And that I stood up to the brass and got away with it - on that account or any other . . . well, you don’t do that and stay “credited.”

So, it is an easily demonstrated fact that federal government in all its forms and bureaus has striven for decades – that’s literally – in order to discredit both me and everything I say. In 1988, a U.S. District Court for Colorado ruled that to release under the Freedom of Information Act and the Tax Code my records “would irreparably damage the tax collection system of the United States.” It’s hard to discredit anyone when he has the record you have to alter in order to “discredit.” Go to my website, you’ll see that I’m still trying to get the records substantiating everything I say in my books and elsewhere, and the government is still “discrediting.”

That’s true, as only a little study would prove, where any of its adversaries is concerned. It was none other than Vladimir Lenin who observed that whoever controlled the public record controlled the public’s truth. The supposedly public record, after all, is a principal weapon of the politician and propagandist, state of the mind and opinion control art, and they will do anything in their power – included tamper or alter with the record – to assure that the public’s truth is under their control. More, in the Nation of Laws, the tactical doctrine of the courts and their officers demands control of the record and the publishable truth it represents. Even the most casual examination makes incontrovertible the conclusion that most – all but all - of adjective and procedure law is designed and administered in a manner directed toward discrediting the truth spoken by witnesses – that intended to assure the jury knows only what he prosecution wants them to know.

Go watch sometime – it’s not a secret. None of this is a secret, because it is no longer necessary for it to be a secret. Lulled – “deceived, confused, and bewildered” is the way a Fletcher School lecturer stated it one day in 1969 – by the Operation Mockingbird-controlled media, the American citizen is no longer sufficiently mentally competent or awake to ask questions or investigate. Even with the federally-wrought disaster rushing down on him now very apparent, he remains oblivious. He won’t know what hit him.

Continuing, another reason my efforts may have rebuffed as they were is even more obvious to even general understanding of our government since the advent of Mockingbird and its CIA inventors. Brigadier, later - Major - General Tom Van Natta, having reviewed my T.O.& E for the Special Operations Teams I was espousing – that in 1959 – remarked that an idea like mine might very well make me a marked man. “Generals want to command armies, you know. Admirals, fleets. They don’t want some first lieutenant with fifty troops putting a swift end to their wars. Be careful, son.”

Van Natta was then engaged in developing the air mobile assault now so familiar – and a variation on what would soon be known as “the mongoose trick.” But I’ve talked about all of that before, here and elsewhere, and at great length. You’ll notice that hasn’t gotten much attention, either.

What do you suppose would happen, were someone to discover a serum that would end human illness? How about a carburetor for the internal combustion engine that would burn nothing but air? What would happen, were we, together with the law, to begin teaching everyone – as I once was - to use a gun with surpassing skill? What if every citizen were empowered with the legal right to arrest lawbreakers (they are, as a matter of fact – and that, perhaps, makes still another point)?

Yeah, I know – fantastic!

Fantastic? Well, let’s talk about “fantastic” for a minute. Last night, I watched an old movie. “Patriot Games” is a spy thriller, in which and IRA hit man penetrates supposedly the best security in the world – that of the CIA. But the most interesting thing about Tom Clancy’s novel – and anyone who reads Clancy wonders how he get his hands on the stuff he does – is its depiction of satellite surveillance of Arab camps in Libya and the Saharan Desert. The “re-tasked” satellites locate the terrorists, photograph them from space and serve as “bird-dog” forward observers for a rocket strike that misses killing the intended target only by way of a fluke occurrence.

The technology, already old at the time of Clancy’s novel, is able to spot and photograph individual human beings, vehicles like pickup trucks – even things as small as AK-47 assault rifles.

Just a movie? Uh-uh. Since the invasion called Iraqi Freedom, several individuals have been killed in exactly the same manner – the fact having been ballyhooed in the media. One such “strike” was accomplished by a pilot-less aircraft and missile designed for the purpose. How do you suppose the target was located and identified? How about the house in the little Pakistani village some little while ago? Patriot Games the novel was twenty years ago. More, the government has boasted for more than fifteen years its ability to identify a golf ball from space.

“Fantastic?” You want "fantastic?" Fantastic is that with that kind of technology you didn't know there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

Finally, there’s one more explanation for my offer having been ignored. Once the tallest hog at the federal trough had summoned up the record, and his analysts had told him that in all probability, I would, indeed, cancel Saddam’s ticket to ride the planet, image again what might have happened.

One more thing. Ask yourself why it is that nothing is more thunderously conspicuous by its absence in all the supposed discussion and debate concerning the “suspect” reasons for Iraqi Freedom than mention of all that space-born technology. This government is the most rara avis possible, blind one minute, the next minute reading your newspaper from across the park.

No, I’ll take that back. The rarest bird here is the U.S. citizen. Anybody who doesn’t see through the Bush Administration wouldn’t notice a squirrel in his Fruit of the Looms.