A Place Called Camelot

There once was a place called Camelot. . .

 

In this place all things were possible. There were jobs, and cars, and washing machines, and TV sets that could receive three channels on a clear day. Walt Disney still had Annette under contract, and she was perfect. And there was this man in the White House.

 

It took all four Beatles to replace John F. Kennedy. His wife looked like a movie star, and his kids did, too. As a ten-year-old, I could mimic his Boston accent, and my father’s friends would laugh their heads off at parties. “Aye, John Eeeeef Kennedddddy . . . ” He’d begin with that line, and go on to put the wood to that fat guy in Russia, or that Mexican who was running Cuba, or anybody else who thought they could stand up to America.

 

I had no idea where Boston was, or what a Democrat was, or even what a communist was, but I KNEW, John F. Kennedy was my president. When we ate supper I would imagine him dropping by, I could just see it, because that was the kind of guy he was in my young mind. It was a grand illusion.

 

America was slipping into decline, but we were so poor we couldn’t tell. Dimes actually looked bigger if you grew up in Texas. The lights never went off in our house, but the bill was only, like, eight dollars or so. I think water might have been free, I don’t know. But I knew who the president was, and I knew that when I grew up, everything was going to be alright.

 

There is a fact among people of my generation. We all remember exactly where we were when we heard about the events in Dallas. I had been to the nurse at Nolan Jr. High, and she sent me back to class. As I rounded the corner by the cafeteria, heading down the west hallway, about three classrooms down, the intercom came on, and America died that day. The grand illusion evaporated like a Penn and Teller magic show. They turned us out, and we all went home. When i got home my parents were acting like Hank Williams just died. I sat at the dinner table that night, and I cried. I still remember. We had liver and onions.

 

Then came Johnson, and Vietnam, Nixon, Charles Manson, the Twin Towers, and Waco! We all struggle to endure the smell of the rotting corpse America had become. The country didn’t just suddenly run off the rails. That train had been swerving for a long time, but somehow, President Kennedy made us believe that his hand was on the wheel, and it was all gonna be alright.

 

Last night I was up researching the tragic event in Waco this week. I ended by looking at a picture of a dead biker, resting beside his Harley. He looked so serene, lying there in his Sunday jeans, and his magnificent colors still on. And for some reason President Kennedy came to mind. And again, I cried. I cried for the biker, I cried for President Kennedy, and I cried for America. America is lost, but we in the Texas movement are going to find it again, and we’re going to give it back to you! We owe President Kennedy that much.

 

There are historians, and political analysts who point out his flaws. I know all about Marilyn Monroe, and Joe Kennedy being a bootlegger, I don’t care! I still can’t erase the image of that hallway at Nolan Jr. High that was burned into my brain on November 22, 1963. As I approached that junction in that hallway that day I was walking in John F. Kennedy’s America. By the time the speaker went silent, I was standing in TEXAS!

 

There once was a place called Camelot . . .

 

 

That Was The Week That Was

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Week that was this week started slow. I was battling sinus with Claritin and Aleve, and the ol’ brain wasn’t hooking up, but time marches on. I think my sinus came from a Sunday trip to San Antonio, which I detailed in The Battle of the Alamode. This had a funny, yet serious side. The antics if the grandkids were uplifting, unfortunately the United Nations had moved the Alamo to New York City or somewhere so they were deprived of that first visit. No matter, they hadn’t been taught what the building was all about anyway. I went to HEB and bought a copy of the Billy Bob Thornton movie to educate them, but the movie was overruled by “Teen Titans.”

As you know, Judge Scalia died this week. Actually, I dodged this because I couldn’t connect the dots to Texas, but eventually wrote Judge Scalia Saga when I found out that no autopsy was ordered, and Obama was being, well, Obama. Personally, I don’t see any mystery in his death, but hey folks, JFK got his head blown off in front of thousands of people and even he got an autopsy, albeit illegal because his body was spirited to DC so the CIA could set the results.

Once in a blue, blue moon I actually research a subject and try to be informative. The Great Peace was such an effort. I’ve learned that when I research a subject, and use four syllable words I fail miserably. Jus’ sayin’. All the article was saying was we, as a people, have “been there, done that.” ISIS is no crisis, and it really doesn’t matter who is in the White House, the song remains the same.

After the overwhelming success of that article I retreated to Texas subjects again, and wrote right off the top of my head. Texas Has Survived simply laid out facts that make the Yankees mad, and Texans glad. Texas is an easy subject because Norte’s are so bad. They barrel down here by the plane load just to tell us that we don’t know what we’re doing. Enjoy your brisket, gringos!

After a week of non-events, Donald Trump delivered Cruz a profound butt-stomping and I did a political article analyzing the contenders for the nomination, one not contending anymore as the Bush dynasty died nasty. Slobber and Vote wasn’t kind, but it brought things down to a manageable level with good common sense. I particularly like my last paragraph. It was apparent that the Claritin worked, and I could see my laptop again.

So, as we march toward Super Tuesday with anticipation Texas marches toward divorcing America like an unfaithful wife. I am reminded of the Talking Heads song saying, “Same as it ever was,” but liberals need “Start swimming, or they’ll sink like a stone because times they are a changing!” I get a laugh at all the Hollywood types who swear they’ll leave the US if Trump wins. I’m cool with that, just don’t come to Texas! The liberals have held sway for seven and one-half years, and as it draws to a close they are showing their colors. They put Obama in office because he’s black, and now they are trying to follow up by putting Hillary in office because she’s a woman. And they call me a racist!

In a healthy political environment you can disagree. The actual difference between a liberal and a conservative is about ten percent, but the libtards try to make it seem like conservatives are from another planet. That’s what happens when your kids don’t study the Alamo.

There Once Was A Place Called Camelot

There once was a place called Camelot. . .

In this place all things were possible. There were jobs, and cars, and washing machines, and TV sets that could receive three channels on a clear day. Walt Disney still had Annette under contract, and she was perfect. And there was this man in the White House.

It took all four Beatles to replace John F. Kennedy. His wife looked like a movie star, and his kids did, too. As a ten year old, I could mimic his Boston accent, and my father’s friends would laugh their heads off at parties. “Aye, John Eeeeef Kennedddddy . . . ” He’d begin with that line, and go on to put the wood to that fat guy in Russia, or that Mexican who was running Cuba, or anybody else who thought they could stand up to America.

I had no idea where Boston was, or what a Democrat was, or even what a communist was, but I KNEW, John F. Kennedy was my president. When we ate supper I would imagine him dropping by, I could just see it, because that was the kind of guy he was in my young mind. It was a grand illusion.

America was slipping into decline, but we were so poor we couldn’t tell. Dimes actually looked bigger if you grew up in Texas. The lights never went off in our house, but the bill was only, like, eight dollars or so. I think water might have been free, I don’t know. But I knew who the president was, and I knew that when I grew up, everything was going to be alright.

There is a fact among people of my generation. We all remember exactly where we were when we heard about the events in Dallas. I had been to,the nurse at Nolan Jr. High, and she sent me back to class. As I rounded the corner by the cafeteria, heading down the west hallway, about three classrooms down, the intercom came on, and America died that day. The grand illusion evaporated like a Penn and Teller magic show. They turned us out, and we all went home. When i got home my parents were acting like Hank Williams just died. I sat at the dinner table that night, and I cried. I still remember. We had liver and onions.

Then came Johnson, and Vietnam, Nixon, Charles Manson, the Twin Towers, and Waco! We all struggle to endure the smell of the rotting corpse America had become. The country didn’t just suddenly run off the rails. That train had been swerving for a long time, but somehow, President Kennedy made us believe that his hand was on the wheel, and it was all gonna be alright.

Last night I was up researching the tragic event in Waco this week. I ended by looking at a picture of a dead biker, resting beside his Harley. He looked so serene, lying there in his Sunday jeans, and his magnificent colors still on. And for some reason President Kennedy came to mind. And again, I cried. I cried for the biker, I cried for President Kennedy, and I cried for America. America is lost, but we in the Texas movement are going to find it again, and we’re going to give it back to you! We owe President Kennedy that much.

There are historians, and political analyists who point out his flaws. I know all about Marilyn Monroe, and Joe Kennedy being a bootlegger, I don’t care! I still can’t erase the image of that hallway at Nolan Jr. High that was burned into my brain on November 22, 1963. As I approached that junction in that hallway that day I was walking in John F. Kennedy’s America. By the time the speaker went silent, I was standing in TEXAS!

There once was a place called Camelot . . .

Cannon Ball and a Feather

I was on the radio with KC Massey last night. He was detailing his arrest on the border. I’m not going to go into the whole thing, but it was two hours of one flub up after another by our United States Government. Then, like a bolt from the blue it hit me. The Lord appeared before me in glory and asked, “What did you expect?” The last thing the American government did right was . . . was . . . was, well, they’ve been in business for over two hundred sum odd years so I know there HAS to be SOMETHING there.

Let’s just look at the stuff that goes, “bump” in the night. Get drunk the night before and get the president’s head blown off the next day by a warehouse clerk. Get run out of Vietnam by a bunch of kids in sandals and pajamas. Screw up a burglary a CRACKHEAD could have done better. Solicit oral sex from a school girl and too STUPID to pay her dry cleaning bill. Go into two wars looking for one old man on a walking stick who basks away sipping iced tea in a condo thirty five miles away, and last but not least, elect a president that makes PUTIN look good! And you pay money for this, people. Matter of fact, you paid money for this TODAY!

We need to change a few things. With our sterling record in the Middle East we need to retire the bald eagle and replace it with a yellow bellied sap sucker. Need to make Old Glory flame retardant, and we need to appoint Bill Gates secretary of the treasury. Now we have Jade Helm. While I was concerned at first, I’m at ease now. The American Government is doing it! Now, if it were being headed up by the Mexican cartels I’d already on my way to Canada. Don’t think so? How’s that Jimmy Hoffa case working out for you, huh? Proof POSITIVE the government did NOT have a thing to do with it. I think that the president had a secret meeting and asked his cabinet, “Who can we make war on and win?” John Kerry said, “Ourselves?”

About the only thing they ever fined tuned was extortion, when they dreamed up the IRS, but heck, the Hell’s Angels can do that. Embargoed Cuba pretty good. Yep, fixed THOSE cigars didn’t they? I happen to be a cigar smoker and lifting the blockade of Cuba is about the only thing I agree with.

The DisUnited States of Illusion keeps limping along with its porous border, funny money, and politically correct president, and we’ll keep paying for it hoping the Chinese don’t foreclose the mortgage. Oh yeah, we did that too! In a thousand years some kid’ll ask his teacher what happened to the ancient empire of America, and the teacher will say, “Oh, they started marrying goats, calling toilette paper wealth, and all got strung out on pot. Mexico finally annexed them.”

From a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

De Facto

We are fast approaching armed revolution in Texas. That should set off whistles and bells down at the NSA. When a group of orderly citizens can’t meet at a VFW and discuss the Republic of Texas without a raid smacking of Elliott Ness we have a major problem! You know what offended me the most? I can almost look past the DPS and Sheriff. I can give a tip of the hat to the Texas Rangers, but by GOD, when the Yankee, Norte, left wing, homosexual, communist FBI gets involved, that’s just too MUCH! WhatEVER was going on in that building that day it was Texas business! I don’t know how to describe my emotion on this, but I think, “Turd in a swimming pool,” just about covers it!

Ron Paul has used my sacred mantra, “De Facto Republic,” now, so I’ve been validated. Just like when I started trying to put CPS workers on death row, and everybody said I was crazy, my De Facto Republic is now. . . well, DE FACTO! What the Keystone Cops raided was a fully operational government. In fact, it was the only legal government left in Texas, if not the United States. And yeah, yeah, yeah, they issued a summons to some crackpot judge and a guy down at the bank. It strikes me as odd that the same federal bozos who spit hairs over Sharia Law, which has absolutely NOTHING to do with AMERICA, can leap like savage rabbits on a bunch of Texans trying to enforce a Texas Constitution, written by Texans, for Texans. I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, but did I miss something here?

“But Wilbur, they had no legal right to issue those summons.” Ok, so they’re a bunch of crazy old men getting drunk at the VFW. Did that justify the raid? If I had been the judge I would have just went there and argued law with them, and if I lost I’d just say, “Ok, now enforce it!” This idiot can’t argue down a bunch of guys in a VFW and he’s a JUDGE? Give me a BREAK! But this FBI thing really irritates me. I’ve seen all the TV shows about them, and Bonnie and Clyde, and Al Capone, and, and and. I really like when they put some guy in prison forEVER until they find some pubic hair in a coffin and figure out the man was in London playing cards at the time of the rape. And they wave that around like it’s such a wonderful thing. How’s that Kennedy assassination working out for you, huh? The greatest cop shop on the planet can’t figure out a Mafia hit. Or the 9/11 thing. Floors blowing out, one, two, three, and they’re STILL pointing to some sick rag head hiding in a cave. By the way, Michael Bee owes me money for medical, because it broke my jaw to admit that. And building seven going down. The first building to collapse from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder! Oh My Living GOD! I just loved that Brit Chick announcing the collapse of building seven while it was STILL standing over her left shoulder.

But, they sho’ can mess up a beer party! If you will note they didn’t raid the Hell’s Angels’ last meeting. Must’ve been something in the air. Like LEAD! Look, what we have here is the government actually denying citizens the right to peacefully assemble and exercise freedom of speech. Oh, yeah, it was an exclusive, secret meeting of a hidden society. . . kinda like the Masons or Mormons, right? They also steer clear of Mosques. God, I could go on and on, but I’m getting redundant here. Back to my original premise, the day is coming when the “Law Enforcement” is going to go crashing into some meeting and the tables will turn FAST. Ain’t no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun! And, yeah, it’ll get messy, and yeah, the lamebrain media will jump on it and call everyone a pedophile, and yeah they will lose in court. . . that time! But how about all the other times? It’s coming people, it’s coming. Remember that phrase. . De Facto!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

You Can’t Fix Stupid

You know I’ve just about had my fill of ISIS! All you hear is ISIS this or ISIS that. ISIS burned somebody up, ISIS cut some heads off. OK, Muslims of the world, this is where your religion takes you! That’s not slander, that’s not libel, look at the news. Every day this camel gang does something that gets in the news and the rest of the Middle East wrings its greasy hands in woe. Where oh where are the Americans? Dudes! YOU are the ones that can’t control a street gang, ok? Oh, I’m so sorry, did I hurt your widdle feelings?

The Arabs have been sucking that oil tit so long they’ve forgotten that they’re really a bunch of illiterate camel jockeys who just recently got salt and pepper. I know, I know all about the spice routes back in the day, but that day is long since over. When I say that I’m a simple ol’ boy from Austin I MEAN it! Now y’all are waiting on me to do the Texas thing and start advocating war, but I’m a gonna fool ya. No war! Just leave, and let Mohammed figure it out. When ISIS is worried about that next bowl of gruel they won’t be torching any more pilots. A hungry Arab is a good Arab. “Oh Wilbur, what about the children?” What about ’em? Ain’t my kids! I got five rug rats of my own and they don’t like Arabs either. They think they taste just like chicken!

And Obama, don’t get me started. When ISIS gets out of line what do we get? “Now y’all get back in line, now!” I’m not going to say anything real bad, but back in the day, you know, before the war of Northern Aggression, he would have been the one who worked in the house. You can’t really blame him. Here’s the way Americans fight a war now. Go in, blast everything to smithereens, then apologize, give ’em a lot of money and guns. Don’t forget the CIA. I want to ask you, and be honest, has the CIA ever done anything successfully, other that killing JFK? Don’t bring up the twin towers Michael Bee. That was too tight. CIA couldn’t have been involved. That was the Hell’s Angels did that one.

So what you got is a well fed, well armed bunch of religious nuts tooling around doing whatEVER they want, and the entire world, including the mighty Russians and Chinese are soiling themselves wondering what to do. When we achieve Texas independence we will show you bunch of girly men what to do about ISIS. Nada! We will ignore the entire Middle East. We’re going to drill for oil, wreck their economy, build a fence around Texas, and SHOOT anything we find that is brown and doesn’t speak Spanish! No planes from Africa or the Middle East. Their tires don’t fit our runways. We don’t need the Chinese either. We GOT rice!

Boy, I’ll bet all that irritates some people. Some idiotic girl with the government said yesterday that the solution to ISIS was not killing them, it was jobs! Well baby, there ain’t not jobs. We’ve given them to all the wetbacks streaming over the border. “Oh Wilbur, you called all them undocumented immigrants ‘wetbacks.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m from Texas, deal with it!

Official Republic of Texas Policy. No more ISIS! I don’t CARE what they do over there. America is jockeying around yet another war to line the pockets of the Saudis. You know, those wonderful people who raised Osama Bin Forgotten. The ones who give forty lashes to a teenage girl with good legs. Yeah, THOSE guys! People, you can’t fix stupid! Stop trying and stop talking about ISIS. #ISIS #angelbox

The Puzzling Case Of Lee Harvey Oswald

Let’s get off topic today and have a little fun. I’ve been sitting on this one because it fits nowhere, but heck, it’s Sunday! It’s fascinating when all the dots connect, something senseless suddenly makes sense and the world seems in order again. Different opinions lead to different theories. Take the JFK assassination. If you want to jump into a whirlpool of controversy just bail off into that. Well, you know me so here we go.

The Warren Commission concluded that Lee Harvey Oswald fired three shots at the presidential motorcade, striking the president twice, once in the back, exiting the throat, and one head shot. The back/throat wound invoked a rash of ideas. You’ve heard it all. The “magic” bullet theory. Conspiracy theorists conclude that the bullet had to do an acrobatic waltz in order to travel the path and inflict subsequent wounds found. They position John Connally directly in front of president Kennedy, thereby not allowing the bullet’s path to follow a logical course.

There is one thing that shoots this down. The Governor was not directly in front of the president, he was down, and to the left in a “jump seat.” When properly lined up the bullet travels along an almost perfectly straight line. Then there is the Governor’s so called delayed reaction. Some people conclude that this proves that two bullets came from behind, the second hitting Connally, causing him to lurch at the moment of impact. Now right here they must accept the word, “behind.” Connally was obviously shot from the rear. There is no denying that. The two bullet theory dies when you realize that it would be impossible to inflict the wounds upon the Governor without going through Kennedy first. He was in the way! The only logical conclusion was one bullet, two men hit.

Now we have the head shot. Abraham Zapruder’s home movie may be the most viewed film in history. Eat your heart out Cecil B. DeMille! You’ve all seen it. The president’s head exploding like a ripe melon, Mrs. Kennedy crawling onto the trunk of the Lincoln retrieving a portion of his brain. This is a difficult shot to analyze. Sherlock Holmes has a rule; When you rule out the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth. Let’s look at that shot.

The grassy knoll looms large in conspiracy theory. Before the day is done, when you take all of the ideas about that little rise you’ll begin to believe the entire CIA was squatting behind that fence with J. Edgar Hoover directing the shot. Now, look at the angle. Not from the front, from the front RIGHT! Ask yourself, who was sitting to the left of the president. Then, simply draw a line from the fence through Kennedy’s head, and beyond. If John F. Kennedy had taken a shot from the grassy knoll the left side of his head would have blown out, not the right. When you rule out the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth! Just as it was impossible for John Connally to have been struck without the bullet hitting Kennedy first, it is equally impossible for a bullet from the grassy knoll hitting the president without also affecting his wife. The laws of physics demand it.

So, where did the shots really come from? Up, behind, and slightly to the right. Then we have the opinions of Oswald’s proficiency with a rifle. We have two things that come into play here. First off, I’ve BEEN to Dealey Plaza. People who have never been there imagine this very long, difficult shot requiring Chris Kyle. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Huckleberry Finn could have hit Kennedy with his sling shot! Fish in a barrel would be a suitable analogy. Quite frankly, no joke intended, I myself could have hit that target with a 9mm pistol. The so called “kill zone” is roughly the size of a high school cafeteria, and how many active shooters do you have to see to know how deadly THAT can be. The suspected window was on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository. New Yorkers, with their skyline picture a high rise with a guy perched on the roof. It was only sixty feet up! Sixty divided by three is twenty. Twenty yards! The beginning distance you start with when qualifying for a CHL! And friends and neighbors, at twenty yards I ate that silhouette UP!

Add about fifty or sixty more feet, allowing for the car traveling down the road, the position of the shooter and do you see those fish yet? So, how good of a shot was Lee Harvey Oswald? I’ve read all the stuff about how he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, and “Maggie’s Drawers,” but Oswald was a former Marine rifleman. He QUALIFIED! Then, of course, we must cast allusions upon his rifle. The Mannlicher Carcano Oswald used is so much maligned by conspiracy theorists one begins it imagine it bad a bent barrel. Lee Havey Oswald’s rifle was a weapon of war. A bolt action piece that fired a bullet projectile almost as long as your little finger and he fired a full jacketed NATO round. It was accurate, powerful, and fully capable of penetrating two men. Oh, and is wasn’t “pristine” when it was found on that stretcher at Parkland. It was slightly flattened.

There’s this idea floating around that two different types of bullets hit that day. One, the 6.5mm that transversed from the rear and two, a hollow point coming from, you guessed it, our friend on the infamous grassy knoll. They reason the exploding head proves this out, and the bullet, having thus fragmented, can never really be found. Theorists add that metal fragments in Kennedy’s brain show evidence of this. Sadly, we will never know because president Kennedy’s brain has bee lost. Do the physics. If the bullet did indeed hit Kennedy from the rear, blow out the right side of his head, then it had to go somewhere upon exit. Now, it didn’t hit the front windshield. Photographs show clearly in the Parkland parking lot that this was not so. It was not lodged somewhere in the limo. It did not hit either the driver, nor the man sitting in the front passenger’s seat. Remember, when you rule out the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth.

The bullet that struck Kennedy in the back, and subsequently went on to wound the Governor was not pristine, as I have said. Just the effort of going through Kennedy’s torso caused it to tumble, making an elongated wound in Connelly’s back upon entry, and the rest of its journey sufficiently reduced its velocity enough to where it really DID “stick” in his leg, eventually dropping onto,the stretcher in the ER at Parkland, where it was eventually found and entered into evidence. Now, why am I telling you this? Don’t you think if a bullet could be so affected as I have said, that if said bullet traveled through a human skull, blowing out its side, that its trajectory could be slightly altered? Penetrating the president’s head from the rear, blowing out the right side, missing everything else in the limo and going where from there? If you subscribe to the idea of a bullet coming FROM the grassy knoll, then if you follow my logic of a bullet possibly coming from the opposite direction then you’ll understand that bullet was your only connection with that dubious hillside. It’s still there! And no one ever looked for it.

So, here’s your sequence of shots. I have a little personal background on this. My daughter in law’s grandfather, John H. Brandt, mounted Lee Harvey Oswald’s scope. The first shot was fired. Complete miss, actually striking the pavement behind the limo and flying fragments actually wounded a bystander. Shooter chambers the second round, raises the crosshairs slightly and fires again. The Zapruder film shows Kennedy reaching for his throat. Now, from that vantage point you can conclude something was amiss simply from the look on his face, but from the rear? From the shooter’s view could it appear as a man reaching to adjust his tie in preparation for exiting the limo in a short while with the press taking hundreds of pictures. Shooter racks the final round, aims and fires. First shot a clear miss. Hastily fired second shot, he THINKS is another miss, that’s why he loads a third round. This one he takes a little time. Check out the film. From the film we can’t see the moment of the second bullet’s impact because of the sign in the way, but we can see that it was a long wait for the last shot. He held his breath, adjusted the aim, and squeezed off the third and final shot, and had he missed that one you may have very well seen a fourth shot. He had time!

So, one man in a window. Where’s your conspiracy. Well, I can’t tell you that, but I can show you the clear footprints of one. First and foremost you must ask yourself not if it really was Oswald in that window that day, but what PUT him there. Now remember the rule, when you rule out . . . Oswald had not been working at the Depository THAT long. He and his wife were separated. The president’s motorcade was shown in the newspapers that week, but ask yourself, what if the plans had changed? Indeed, what would have happened if the limo simply proceeded straight ahead instead of making that right turn toward the School Book Depository? What if it had never turned left but when right past Oswald and turned left a block later? Oswald was in exactly the right place and the exact time. Now that’s a fact. He KNEW the limo was going to make that left directly below him, and he KNEW he’d have that kill shot at a retreating target.

Oswald spent one last night with his wife at Mrs. Payne’s house on the night before the assassination. He got up, left his wedding ring and some money, and went to work with a rifle. All the stuff about him being in the lunch room the entire time, where did that come from? Oh, yes, his boss vouching for him. Like this guy had a check list and remembered every employee and every sandwich eaten. And he wasn’t out of breath or sweating. Who wrote THAT down? Oswald was perfectly capable of going DOWN six flights of stairs, going down is easier than going UP, and buying a Coke in the lunchroom. He hadn’t been out of the Marines THAT long, his job was to move books around a six story building. C’mon!

So, when the cops leave, I assume searching the grassy knoll, Lee leaves the depository, goes home and gets a pistol. Gee, why would this innocent man suddenly leave work and do that? He DID have enough sense to leave his “curtain rods” behind. So now he’s tooling all over Dallas with a gun and Officer
Tippit comes upon him and stops him. Now, this innocent guy, leaving work at lunch, is stopped by a police officer and decides to go ahead and shoot him. I’ve heard some conspiracy theorists ask why the police suddenly converged on the Texas Theater just because Oswald went in without a ticket? Why did Officer Wilson zero in on Michael Brown just because he was walking in the middle of the street? In both cases a major crime had just been committed nearby. The police HAD radios! Normally if the manager of the theater had called the police about such a matter it would have taken forEVER to get a squad car out there, but there were cops in the area. Officer DOWN! When cornered, Oswald screamed, “This is IT!” drew his weapon and tried to kill yet another police officer. I’ve even heard the idea that Oswald’s .38 had no firing pin. If that’s so then what punctured the officer’s thumb who jammed the shot?

So, Goldilocks gets dragged down to,the PD for questioning. Why did the police immediately connect him with the Kennedy assassination? Uh, perhaps because he’d just killed a police officer and he WORKED at the Texas School Book Depository? You think? But, didn’t Oswald say he was just a “patsy?” What would you expect him to say? “I did it . . .I did it all . . .HAMBURGER!”

So, he was definitely a little more than an innocent bystander. How do we know that there was a little bit of planning involved by interested parties? Ok, yet again, ask yourself, what makes a man like Jack Ruby suddenly be filled with remorse and patriotism to the point that he pulls off what he did at the jailhouse that day? Jack Ruby, American patriot . . . When pigs fly! Little thing or two about Mob hit men. Contrary to the movies, most mob hits are pulled off by regular soldiers. Highly paid “Mechanics” look good in movies. This is why I have to laugh when i read about some clown saying he was specifically hired to kill a president because he was so good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s why you’re doing time for a string of burglaries. A lot are done by people associated yet not “in” the organization. You already work for the boss, just do the job! Most are not paid for the hit. You’re already BEING paid, just do,the job! It helps if you are very low on the food chain. Jack Ruby was not a “Made” man, he wasn’t even a soldier, he was an associate. Who would you use to eliminate a threat like Lee Harvey Oswald? And the act in a situation where the shooter would surely be caught. You can’t afford for Oswald to eat one more breakfast. You find an associate who knew he was already sick anyway. We don’t know when Ruby knew he had cancer, but we do know he died because of it. “Jack, your family will be well cared for.” And if you can accept that the limo could have went this was or that then a police transfer is no problem at all. Ruby is in exactly the right place, at exactly the right time. Hey, that’s two times in three days! I wish I could get those odds in Vegas! Oswald was being questioned inside the police station for hours, and the first time he neared the exit of the building he was as dead as fried chicken, and if you don’t see some kind of a plan there have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on SALE! Whomever put Lee Harvey Oswald in that window likewise put Jack Ruby in that garage! Swat them bees, swat them bees!

I can’t tell you who orchestrated the plan. Most likely all these people have passed on. Oh, you’ll see from time,to time some tired old convict trying to get more cigarettes by claiming HE killed Kennedy, and, oh yes, FROM the grassy knoll, but the fact is no one really knows. A lot of people wanted Kennedy dead from Carlos Marcello to Marilyn Monroe’s latest boyfriend. Castro didn’t like him either. And as far as Oswald being a bumbling, lucky fool . . . He got into Russia, married a Russian girl, and exited the country. Now this is during the cold war people. Khrushchev banging his shoe on the table at the UN, stuff like that. Whomever arranged this put the exact right shooter, in exactly the right place at exactly the right time, and then duplicated that when Oswald was taken out. Bada Bing Bada BOOM!

When you hit conspiracy theorists with these facts they get that white around their mouths, their eyes roll back in their heads and they start talking in tongues. The Kennedy assassination has become a religion. You might as well try to convince a Mormon that Joseph Smith was a circus barker, you’ll do better. I seriously doubt that we’ll ever know who wrote the check, but I do believe the check was written, and the money has long ago been spent.