Supreme Court Associate Justice Felix Frankfurter, a Jew, was once
presented with evidence of the Holocaust by a friend. Justice
Frankfurter said he couldn't believe it had happened. His friend
responded incredulously, "Are you telling me you don't believe the
Holocaust happened?" Frankfurter famously replied, "That's not what I said. I said I can't
believe it happened." Meaning he couldn't bring himself to believe it.
That's why I don't go in for conspiracy theories.
For almost eight and a half years, I've been biting my tongue and
refusing to blame Bush and Cheney for pulling off 9/11 with their PNAC
pals who less than four years earlier in a letter to President Bill
Clinton brazenly said we needed another Pearl Harbor-type of calamity to
get this country back on the right track. The narrative regarding 9/11
fails to fit the facts in roughly a thousand and one different ways. The
forensic evidence doesn't add up when held side-by-side with the
narrative told to us by the government and the so-called 9/11
However, the absence of facts and square pegs and round holes only
produces conspiracy theories and I do not traffic in those. The absence
of provable facts is not proof in and of itself. I have a hard enough
time keeping the last of my readership from going to Reddit or Instagram
or whatever happens to be hotter than blogs right now. I don't want to
kill off what little credibility I have left by peddling conspiracy
theories as fact.
Because there are just some scenarios that are too horrible to even
contemplate, more horrifying scenarios than anything cooked up by an
Alex Jones fever dream after eating 11 Gorditas and 8 Chalupas. Our own
government pulling off 9/11 is about the most unbearable thing I can
imagine outside of something happening to any of my loved ones.
This is why I do not believe Hunter S. Thompson killed himself but
stop short of saying someone offed him because he was supposedly working
on an expose of 9/11. This is why I do not believe the DC Madam, Deborah Jeane Palfrey,
herself yet I dig in my heels well before saying out loud that some
piano wire artist offed her just before she was about to name names.
Nor do I believe Michael Connell, Sen. Paul Wellstone and other
people dangerous to the current corrupt establishment died in normal,
unavoidable plane crashes but you will not hear me say they were
murdered by a person or persons unknown. That is because I do not have
proof and I would need about a millennium to wrap my mind around the
fact that my government could be that murderous and cold-blooded.
But then I see things like the death of Rolling Stone
journalist Michael Hastings, a throwback to the days of real
journalists who wouldn't accept bullshit in exchange for access to hear
more bullshit and the facts speak for themselves. Hastings was murdered
and anyone who knows the first thing about automotive mechanics,
accident reconstruction and basic physics can tell his death in a
massive ball of flames on a residential street in Hollywood yesterday
simply doesn't subscribe to conventional common sense.
And when I hear about a journalist of Hastings' stature dying so
young, the first question that pops into my head is not, "What had he
worked on?" but "What was he working on?"
Whatever it was, his confidential sources aren't going to start
singing unless they want to be nervous pedestrians for the rest of their
Hastings was murdered by people who knew how to make it happen and
certainly had the money, the technology and the motivation to pull it
off. Don't look to the LAPD, the LA Coroner's Office and the LA Fire
Department to give you any straight answers. They'll tell you after the
car's been combed over and the autopsy results take weeks to come in
that it was a tragic and needless accident that was caused when Hastings
ran into a utility pole after traveling 100 mph down a suburban
Hollywood side street.
Do not look for them to tell you why the transmission suddenly
dropped out of the car about 50 yards from the impact site and that
several people, including one woman, said they heard a sound like a bomb
going off, one powerful enough to rattle their house and shake their
windows. I've seen plenty of car accidents and heard others. No car
striking a light pole is going to create a concussive envelope powerful
enough to do that and a car hitting a solid object at any speed is going
to result in a sickening crunching sound, not a boom like a bomb.
And it still wouldn't answer why Hastings, a responsible
journalist, was traveling 100 mph in a residential neighborhood and why
he thought it was a good idea to wrap the front end of his late model
Mercedes around a light pole.
So here's a much more plausible theory, one formed around the facts anyone can see in the video above:
A bomb is planted in the rear of the car, something most of us
wouldn't bother checking for before getting in the car even if we wrote
something that got Stanley McCrystal shitcanned by President Obama. The
transmission gets blown out, it lands in the street and rolls onto the
sward of grass, leaking red training fluid into the gutter. The bomb
detonates the nearby gas tank also in the rear of the car. The car's
already in flames if not fully involved, stunning or killing Hastings in
front and a postmortem twitch makes his right foot depress the gas
pedal, making the car accelerate and swerve out of control from the
right side of the street to the left until he hits a solid object, which
in this case was first, a fire hydrant then, secondly, a utility pole.
But don't listen to me. Look at where the training lies, observe
the red fluid in the gutter, note its distance from the crash site, its
orientation to it, listen to the witnesses explain they heard a sound
like a bomb go off. Then judge for yourself whether or not my scenario
strays from the facts or that I've wrenched the facts in this raw
footage to fit my theory.
In some late model cars, the engine is engineered to drop before a
front end impact so as not to go through the dash and crush the driver.
So when you start hearing in the news about how Hastings liked to
drive fast and as the official narrative begins to filter its way to
your favorite news sites, just remember this video and this post then
tell me accidents like this happen every day of the week.
Then again, James Gandolfini, aka Tony Soprano, died the day after Hastings did. Coincidence?????