Bastille Day 2015

Bastille Day, July 14th is just around the corner.   Few Americans know what it is although the French Revolution of 1789 is an important part of our history.  After all, if it wasn’t for France, we would have lost to the British.  It’s that simple: the port blockade.  In my book, Journal of the Silent Majority, I write how the French revolutionaries caused what is happening today with our rainbow reds knocking off one American institution after another without firing a shot.  If you knew your French history, you’d know there is a precedent for the destruction of the Catholic Church in France which had grown too politically close to the corrupt monarchy – one of the Estates.   It was high times for militant atheists just like today in America, but I’m not giving the plot away.  You’ll have to buy the book which you can do for the reasonable e-book price of around three dollars on Barnes and Noble and Amazon.

One clue I can give is my analysis of the development of one of the world’s most diabolical institutions – the Media.   It’s the source of intellectual ferment and a nursery and mother ship for our unhappy reds.  (I found agreement in Decline of the West by Oswald Spengler although it’s a hard book to understand.)  Today all power in America comes out of the end of a camera.   Sorry Mao.  The Press of yesteryear is the Media enslaver of today, yet the “Press” of today hides behind its old constitutional protections.  As a politician, if you don’t go along with its program, you’re out like Nixon.  You’re fired!  One false move as an average working stiff, media pressure will cause you to be fired.  The Media is the source of all political correctness and the official tabulator of presidential votes since 1964.  It’s no wonder millions of us don’t vote anymore.  The ones who take advertising money are the official designators of the victor.  Above all, don’t let anyone besides Republicans or Democrats into the Presidential Debates because they are a private corporate monopoly incidentally using the public airways.

The French Revolution is the story of class warfare of which Americans know little.  Maybe Proletariat and Bourgeoisie sound too Bolshevik, therefore an understanding of it all is bad even though the terms were popular in France in 1789 at the start of their revolution.  The concept of their being those exempt from the laws they impose upon others is incomprehensible to Americans.  So too recall a political club called Cordelier’s which housed the most murderous collection of media types like atheist Marat.  Over a hundred years later the father of fascism, Benito Mussolini, was a journalist and so was Karl Marx.  I suspect, incidentally, when the time comes, our revolutionaries could help “appease” our deficit when it reaches $24 trillion with seizing the assets of the Catholic Church.  The red agenda for us could also include an intensified attack on military officers with Stalinist-like trials and purges.  It all began when the atheists were let loose.  Yes, we could learn a lot from the French Revolution.

Zapruder II

Fishermen are braggarts.  Hunters are braggarts.  It’s not too far fetched to speculate that the person who shot John Kennedy was the same.  He was hunting too.  Taxidermy is a big business here in the Ozarks where the biggest bucks are displayed at the local farm supply outfit.  When I checked in to Hq. Co. 24th Marines in Kansas City after boot camp, there, above the colonel’s desk, was a framed VC scalp.  Professional killers collect it all: hair, noses, and ears.  I remember seeing three shrunken heads in the Kansas City museum when I was a kid.  I suggest in the killing of John Kennedy there is something the TV specials and all the experts have overlooked – intentionally or not.  It’s something very basic to the nature of man and I’m surprised of all the silly and far-out JFK conspiracy theories no one has mentioned a logical extension of how killers behave and what their peculiar mindset suggests.

The Abraham Zapruder film proved to me a front shooter was involved and I wrote a piece about the “front sniper’s nest” which became my most popular post on Ray N. Cherry Blog.  Putting aside the influence of the mob, UFOs, Castro, the Russians, (ad infinitum), could there be new evidence consistent with the nature of man?  Is there a second undiscovered “Zapruder” film?  I specifically mean a trophy film of the assassination shot by the assassins.  Why hasn’t even the possibility of one existing ever been considered?  “Gee boss, if we’re going to go to all that trouble, can I at least have a memento of shooting Kennedy?”

I guess the answer lies in convenient operation and the brazenness of the assassination itself.  A barrel mount camera would be a simple procedure.  The Signal Corps used to do that sort of filming all the time during WWII.  Filming the grassy knoll by the book depository could have been easily done from the windows or roof tops of the near-by buildings.  Because there was a conspiracy in the assassination of John Kennedy, the logistics of filming the event aren’t difficult.  A tourist could have filmed it on the ground.  Again, I speculate that the operational philosophy might have been: “You might as well be hung as a ram as a lamb.”  Do it!  Zapruder II, to be shown in the twilight years of the assassins, would give them their life’s trophy mount.  If it was taken out of the hands of the assassins by the Agency we’ll never know except for the primal nature of man which suggests Zapruder II does exist.

Discovering Cable News

I didn’t know what cable news television was until I took our state utility truck in for repairs during the late 1990s.  Up until that time I’d always watched news on my rabbit ears 19 inch TV.  Dealerships had big screens in their waiting rooms with something new to me – cable television.  Oprah, Judge Judy, and Dr. Phil were big at the time, but I didn’t care anything about that fluff except I liked the way Judge Judy took no guff from those who appeared before her.  Cable news was longer and better covered and it was glamorous.  Case in point: FOX News and its stable of blonds.   It was a time when men were men and women were actually attractive.  I remember Gretchen Carlson, a pioneer the employment of beautiful women in cable television.  Rupurt Murdock knew what he was doing.  Of course, that’s sexist, but sex sells.

On the other hand there’s MSNBC:  transgender this and LGBT that.   I have enough trouble getting past the “talking with hands” mannerisms, let alone wondering if Rachel Maddow has an Adam’s Apple.  If I want to find out what the red brigades are up to, MSNBC is the place and it’s actually fun because they follow the socialist and communist playbook so closely.  (I did a blog post on Halloween at MSNBC) Is there anyone there who’s not a militant atheist?  Who’s the almost-white chick with the braids?  Stop waiving your hands and talk slower.  Those of us from the Hustings can’t understand what you’re saying.  Perhaps we’re too simple.  All we get is that you hate white men, come from an oppressed minority, interview wretched like-minded leftists, and get a big fat paycheck for doing it - probably from an old white man.

CNN and Anderson Cooper are getting better.  At least he has a nice looking haircut and doesn’t tell us he’s a homosexual all the time.  Who cares?  Not all the world is a Bruce Jenner telling the world to “look at me.”  Thank you very much.  Currently, I’m sticking with Bill O’Reilly because he doesn’t hide what real people think like the other cable channels do.  Real people know the country is irretrievably lost because they have eyes and ears and a memory.  I wish Hannity would ask real people real questions in one of his town-halls.  He’s got the bad habit of asking only celebrities and experts.   Of course, you can argue cable news isn’t real reporting in the tradition of Walter Cronkite or Edward R. Morrow.  It isn’t.  It’s entertainment and we must pay the price.

29 Palms: Live Fire

This is what Outpost Crampton looked like in 1978.  It was a part of reserve Marine Corps training at 29 Palms, California in the Mojave Desert.  Any resemblance to civilization is merely co-incidental.  The wooden buildings are permanent and are occupied by succeeding units that overlook the valley where the armored battalions maneuver under live fire conditions.  APCs reach 155 degrees on the inside.  Where we were on the mountain top it was only 120 degrees.  The first photo shows the ingenuity of Marines.  Wherever two or three rocks are gathered together, Marines will make their homes.  I remember we had no cots and slept in tents infested with rats.  One discovered my unopened can of peaches two feet from my head.  He picked it up with his paws and sniffed it, bit holes in the top, and sucked out the juice.  Our Vietnam veteran corpsman had warned us by relating the story of how the rats used to attack the eyeballs of Marines while they were sleeping to obtain their body salt.  Standard amenities at Crampton included a 4-seat non-partitioned toilet they called something else.  Navy corpsmen would burn off the contents only on certain days when we were down wind.

 

The next photo is when the planes and artillery opened up on a target.  One A-4 jet from El Toro streaked up to us on the west side and fired his neon colored missiles upside down as he crested above us.  Captain Anderson in white t-shirt looks on and SSgt. Vest (seated) enjoys the view.  If I remember correctly, the guy taking the picture in the middle is Pvt. Malko, soon to be the official photographer of Hq. Co. 24th Marines, Kansas City.  Note the panorama and the smaller mountain ridge below the big ones.  Our regimental S-2 shop had spent several months making a terrain model of the area out of newspaper, sugar, and flour.  To our surprise it didn’t make it to the Palms.  Mice had eaten it in transit, but still, preparing models are part of the intelligence function.  Our shop was set up in one of the wooden buildings and it was typical.  Our desks were olive drab blocks we had to unsnap and unfold.  I suppose they had been that way since the Civil War.  Of course, we had the situation map with red and black grease pencils and overlays.  Today with computers, it’s all changed.  I was the only divisional level trained intelligence analyst, a rare bird.

The only thing good about Outpost Crampton was when flew back to Camp Wilson. The first person I met after landing was from a New York unit, a beautiful Puerto Rican girl near the wash racks.  She teasingly sprinkled water in my face – the nicest greeting I ever received in the Marine Corps and a real morale booster.  Sadly, I learned in 1980 when we came back to the Palms for CAX80, she had been stabbed to death in a jealous rage.  The last photo shows a bunch of us getting ready to catch the bus for the trip home.  We had staged our gear and I hold my ever-present water bag.  Sgt. Peak holds the soda pop and SSgt. Williams is next to him milling about smartly.