Why People Hate History

In a nutshell, it’s because history nothing to do with them, at least, in the way it’s currently written.  If you believe history should only be scientific and legal, then I believe it’s a waste of time to read current history and that’s what millions of American students believe.  It’s really a boycott or non-compliance or even a passive resistance to required education courses.  What keeps the terrible history teachers on the job is a puzzle.  Perhaps it’s convention and tradition locked in tandem in the closed society of academia.  Money from unsuspecting parents just keeps pouring in.  It’s no wonder they feel cornered; “That’s just the way it is.”  The kids feel the same way, but history as a required subject is a losing proposition.  Who gets the last laugh on the tenured professors?

 

Consumers want histories that are alive and relevant, not the histories of scientific materialism and legal argument.  They are tired of beans and barrels of oil history with its legions of Marxist interpreters.  People look for content and meaning because life has its meaning in the lesser mentioned phenomena like motive, context, passion, and spirit.  It’s insufficient to say those ingredients are the only considerations.  Scholarship plays an important role, but the professors who actually teach and write history should also have a due respect for the other dimensions of humanity, especially, the spiritual side.  History is not a science laboratory or court room.

 

Properly taught history open’s the Christina’s World of the individual and subjects him to what we used to call a liberal education – seeing all sides of the story and confronting the individual with those who have gone on before.  That reality which Thomas Carlyle says is the first reality means intrigue, murder, terror, conspiracy, real people and their weaknesses, real motives, and blood and guts.  It does not mean atomization where reason, timeline, and motive are displaced with unrelated and incomprehensible events that float around like dust in a wind storm. 

 

Most people except cloistered scholars, politicians, and media types are familiar with the human side of life because they live it.  They know what office politics and intrigues are and it’s not a leap of faith for them to eventually recon their observations and primal instincts with histories they can understand and respect.  It is possible to know why wars are fought, why successional murders occurred, why our country has deteriorated, and who or what is to blame.  Those intellectual sappers who dominant the institutions and airways do not fully understand that most people rely on the old saying, “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck.”  If history is to be revived and not reviled, it should be relevant, written with common sense, and above all, be personal.

JFK: The Front Sniper's Nest

So far in all the 50^th anniversary coverage of the assassination of John Kennedy I’ve found not one reference to the obvious location of the front sniper’s nest where common sense and a few discoveries of my own have convinced me of its existence.  My suspicions along with millions of other Americans had been firmly planted when a political context or motive of the shooting was never discussed by the Media.  Baby Boomers, after all, grew up on TV shows similar to Dragnet.  Even if you didn’t like history, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich was a best seller among us. In other words, Baby Boomers are the most educated generation in history.  The power brokers stood no chance in trying to fool all of the people all of the time.  It was the study of the assassination in minute detail in context over decades colliding with suppressed evidence that spurred conspiracy theorists on, not the convenient explanation of simple minded people concluding that a lone gunman could not have done something so earth shaking.

 

Being from the Ozarks and handling weapons had much to do with my evaluation of the assassination and that’s apart from the political considerations written about in my Journal of the Silent Majority to be published.  The Zapruder footage indicates a front shooter.  The genius of Oliver Stone’s JFK was that it dared to show the film in political context; history does not take place in a vacuum.  My disappointment came when he failed to locate the front gunman’s position, but my concern didn’t last long.  Then came Votescam: The Stealing of America by James and Kenneth Collier, a team of investigating reporters who researched how the Media co-opted America’s vote tabulation process.  With a lead from “assassination buff” Mae Brussell, they agreed that the Media supported the Warren’s Commission findings in return for the tabulation authority.  Indeed, Associated Press published The Warren Report and after many media transformations ended up with the tabulation monopoly.

When the Collier Brother’s investigated the roots of the securing of the national tabulation authority, they stumbled into the CIA-Media conspiracy that sanctioned it.  The least they could do was to locate the front sniper’s nest . . . and they did.  The last 30 minutes of their film sequel, Votescam: The Stealing of America, not only shows the likely spot of the nest based on bullet trajectory and witness accounts, but reveals the hidden drain cavity itself.  My sketch is based on the film.  The film made in 1988, further reinforced my own conclusion of conspiracy.  In all the JFK coverage so far I’ve not seen one mention of the Collier brothers or the storm drain nest.

Wait.  Is not that enough?  In a similar not-ever-mentioned book, That Day in Dallas, by Richard Trask, a photo records witnesses to the smell of gun smoke and of the sound of rifle shots rushing to the exact spot.  (Reporter Robert MacNeil is shown hanging on to the fence.)  My sketch shows the approximate layout of the underground escape passage superimposed on the grassy knoll.  So, for me to believe there was a front shooter, it was the Zapruder film.  For me to locate the JFK sniper’s nest, it involved two more critical pieces of evidence to prove its existence and it took many years to do it.

Crossing Over to Sweden

I stayed with the other tourists except for the time when the ship neared Gothenburg harbor after a three hour trip.  I’m a sucker for duty free bitter sweet chocolate and pound cake after my five week back packing experience in 1972 – especially after going hungry in France.  On deck I was wearing my poncho and a utility cover because it was raining.  I was listening at the screws turning and waiting for the fog to lift in order to get my first glimpse of Sweden.  As we passed the rocky shoals to the starboard and into the harbor, I had another rare attack of déjà vu, this time it was really strong; like I'd been there before at this exact spot.  About the same time there occurred an opening in the clouds and I beheld a double rainbow which arched over the ship from port to starboard.  It was a spiritual moment and more than just someone coming home after many years.

 

I quickly found a room with some other tourists who were also booking and I immediately set out for the local shopping center.  Before long, an English bum approached me to get a handout.  Without me saying a word he had identified me as American and I never figured out how he did it.  Perhaps it was the style of my glasses or maybe I just looked American.  When strangers start acting chummy, always check your wallet.

 

Tourists quickly notice the explicitness of the Swedish advertising media at the newsstands.  Nudity is common and no discretion is given to women's products in context, even on giant outdoor billboards.  The stores sell parts of cattle that would make Americans blush and become queasy.  There was a large supermarket (I think it was called Tasco) with long rows of refrigerated meats prominently displayed.  I soon discovered whatever is under-the-counter here in the United States, it’s over-the-counter there: mountain oysters, brains, etc.  I uncomfortably remember one lady in particular who was gingerly examining a bull’s private parts like it was Sunday night’s roast.

I didn't think too much of Gothenburg because it was too industrial for me, but in fairness I wasn’t planning a long stay in Sweden at this point because Norway was my next stop in my circular route, besides, I would eventually end up back in Sweden after Norway. 

Book Review: Killing Kennedy

Whenever two or three are gathered together there is a committee and that’s what Killing Kennedy: The End of Camelot is all about.  It’s never been more popular for a nationally known celebrity like Bill O’Reilly to take the credit for actually writing a book and to attach his name for marketing purposes in order to cover for poor scholarship and elevate a cotton candy story.  Every time Bill tells the world that his book is the best thing since sliced bread, he should mention that Martin Dugard is the co-author and the writer who, I suspect, did the heavy lifting.

 

There are telltale signs that O’Reilly and Dugard are at odds concerning critical elements of the story like who actually shot JFK.  Bill says on TV that Lee Harvey Oswald absolutely was the shooter, but Dugard is pretty vague about it.  Look for it.  Concerning the Zapruder film; “We watched it time after time after time to understand the sequence of events . . . .”  What part of “head snap backwards, means front shooter” don’t they understand?  The head shot was not a “sequence”, but the proof of conspiracy.

 

Of course, there’s the bountiful photos eulogizing and endearing John Kennedy to the non-critical masses: family portraits, Jackie with John-John, JFK in the Oval Office or on PT109, Carolyn and John-John dancing in front of Kennedy’s desk, a photo with Frank Sinatra and more.  There was not one photo of Dealey Plaza or the crime scene, just black and white maps similar to the Warren Commission’s substitute drawings of the official autopsy.  Killing Kennedy is full of tributes, fond memories, and anecdotes of JFK.  It’ almost as if Bill O’Reilly was a Kennedy himself in mourning, but one should remember the word, “killing” in title of the book.  It implies the act of murder involving motive, capabilities, and bad guys.  The generation contemporary to the assassination wants to know “Who and why?”  If you do, don’t buy the book.

 

If Killing Kennedy was my term paper, I’d get an “F” because even though there are plenty of quotes, there are no footnotes supporting them, just general bibliographical sources.  Perhaps the authors are so distinguished they need no documentation.  There’s not even a Table of Contents (TOC).  Perhaps it was an editorial concession for possible e-Book conversion.  Nonetheless, scholarship means references supported by footnotes.  Bill O’Reilly and Conspiracy Deniers in general fail to understand or admit that time and its mountain of accumulated evidence by people smarter than themselves have made the lone gunman assertion ridiculous.  The least O’Reilly could do for the rest of us is to rename the book Praising Kennedy.

Frederikshavn: The Baltic Culture

Frederikshavn is on the northeast coast of Jutland and lies directly across from Goteborg, Sweden.  After a short trip by train from Alborg I decided to stop over for the night before heading for Sweden the following morning.  Frederikshavn is a perfect example of a thriving sea coast town with all kinds of Baltic Sea traffic including cargo ships, Danish naval vessels, and ferries scurrying in every direction.  One, the Destroyer F346, didn’t make a good picture because it was gray on a day with clouds, and besides, I felt like a spy photographing it.

 

I watched from my telephoto lens two crew members of the DSR Reefer (refrigerated) Service  tend their ship, the F. Freiligarth.  A man and a woman were on its bridge swabbing the deck and coiling some ropes on a life boat.  It occurred to me that maybe these crew members were more than 9-to-5 employees.  Perhaps they lived on board even while docked and maybe they were its captain and first mate – literally.  The more I thought about it, the more I considered what I was seeing was perhaps a way of life typical in the cold and dismal Baltic.  What I witnessed was a seafaring culture that stretched all the way around the Baltic to Stockholm, Helsinki, St. Petersburg, Kaliningrad, Copenhagen, and back.

There was my ferry, the Stena Danica, which passed between Frederikshavn and Goteborg several times a day.  Fortunately, my hotel room was on a higher floor and the light was temporarily good enough for some decent photos.  The ferry had slipped into her berth with the assistance of an underwater propulsion system.  In 1977 and even being in the Marines at the time, I’d never head of bow thrusters.  The photo shows their wake.  As it drew near to the dock, the tip of the bow opened up like a parrot’s beak and dropped a ramp for departing passengers and vehicles.  I’d never seen anything like it.  She could take on 2,274 passengers and 550 cars.  The cruise ship, Peter Wessel, is docked behind and to her right.

Sgt. Rock and a Hard Place

What will it take for Sgt. Rock to wake up?  From the Republicans he gets recession, depression, economic ruin, and endless war with its death and legions of cripples.  From Democrats he witnesses the relentless destruction of his Christian moral values by militant atheists and Socialists who become emboldened by Christian toleration.

 

It only took a day or so after the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” for homosexuals to begin flaunting their remarkable victory achieved by the spurt of a pen (Presidential Directive) from a socialist Commander in Chief.  Millions of Americans then saw Wheel of Fortune when the lesbian army captain ended her short biography with “. . . and my husband Carla.”  The wedding chapel at West Point must be working overtime.  The worst elements are on a roll:  advocating unisex attire for Marines; trying to take God out of military oaths (Air Force Academy’s oath “So help me God”); garnering spousal benefits, and capturing national headlines with stories like Brady Manning wanting to be a girl and an ex-Navy Seal’s quest to be a woman.  It’s also likely within a few years the feminization of the military will be complete with the inauguration of the first woman President.

 

Thousands of Marines realize the fox is now in the chicken house.  The anticipated deployment of Red Guard sensitivity trainers and commissar lawyers must be at its peak on the eve of the Marine Corps Ball, November 10th, in celebration of the Marine Corps’ birthday.  I expect Freedom-Rider-type enforcers to arrive at the high profile celebrations in Quantico and Washington, D.C. with direct Blackberry links to the President.  After the introduction of the oldest and youngest Marine, Sgt. Rock will have to endure the spectacle of homosexual married couples being patronized and feted?

 

By now Sgt. Rock should be questioning his place in the pecking order where he actually ends up protecting those with values he abhors.  The irony is even more astonishing when Russia condemns homosexual activity and America embraces it.  So what is Sgt. Rock fighting for?  What are his current thoughts regarding the desirability of a constitutional republic and what can he do in the short run?  The answer to the latter comes from the legacy passed down by the Left and Gandhi – passive resistance.  All across America in the next week wherever the Marine Corps balls are held, Sgt. Rock can boycott or walk out of them when the worst elements make their debut.  When he wins a few of these little skirmishes he might become conscious of his own strength and that’s something the worst elements fear.

Our Mercenary Dilemma

Private mercenary armies like Blackwater were hired as a part of George W. Bush’s prosecution of war by fraud and deception in order to lessen the political impact of employing huge number of troops.  Now, those armies have become the norm.  Where will they go next?  I’m sure their activities continue somewhere in the world besides Iraq and Afghanistan.  Could they be hired and used against ordinary Americans as surrogates in future Wacos or incidents like the Bonus March of 1932?

 

During times in which the two party system rules there will be no need of the services of mercenaries to eliminate opposition in the traditional sense.  The rigged election process does that.  Things will go on as usual, but what would happen in the aftermath of an irreversible economic crash, calamity (Katrina) or a national uprising against the government when it functions no longer?  Will the Democrats and Republicans go silently into the night to be replaced by new and inevitable powers that have been fashioned?  In such times would the Media, the mother of both, create its own socialist private army like Hitler’s SA?

 

During Reconstruction after the Civil War the most extreme precedent of hiring private partisan armies to subdue and persecute American citizens became a reality.  Radical Republicans corned the market on it.  In 1870 in South Carolina Governor Robert K. Scott armed 7,000 Negroes with Winchesters and recruited James E. Kerrigan’s New York gunmen.  In Louisiana Governor Henry Clay Warmoth created the Militia Bill as a way to subject white Southerners.  If that didn’t work, he could always call in official Federal bayonets and Gatling guns. In Arkansas Governor Powell Clayton created another Republican Negro militia backed by mountain gunmen.  In Mississippi Governor Adelbert Ames created his black militia.

 

Private armies have ingrained themselves into the American political scene to such as extent that I predict their future role will be as political catalysts for better or worse.  The American breakup looms closer every day.  In the meantime our national cohesiveness as a people depends on those who look beyond the purse of the old corrupters and who will not sink to the level of morphing into another SA, Black Shirt, Gestapo (national police), or Cheka.