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[MF] The Case-File of Detective John C. Prufrock
Apathy is a solution. On a particular weary and teary afternoon, Detective John Prufrock sat in his favourite chair, and mulled over the day’s evidence. It wasn’t a menial task per say, but it wasn’t as tedious as he remembered. Alas, a year had passed since they first discovered the body. Desecrated, mangled, and violated in every way imaginable -- And, I do mean in every way imaginable -- it happened to be the worst this precinct had seen in recent memory. Despite such a despicable crime, however, Prufrock failed to find any ounce of conviction that may have once remained. He was exhausted, detached, and seen enough depravity over the last thirty years to make any men senseless to the horrors of living in a bitter, modern world.
“Prufrock!” a monotone voice called out from across the precinct – too dull too know.
“Got a local tip about the Marjorie Murder.”
“Some Chinaman on 13th street. Said he saw a pretty blond walking alone around there during the night of the murder. Said he saw a man who couldn’t stop looking at her.”
“What a surprise, a man caught staring at a pretty blonde? Must be grounds for murder.”
“The captain said you’re checking it out.”
“If we checked out every tip from a marriage-less, middle-aged man in the Chinatown area¾”
“Who said he was marriage-less?”
“They all are.”
The man with the monotone voice shifted visibly in place.
“The captain said you’re checking it out anyway,” the man with the monotone voice softly spoke. “All leads are worth checking out at this point. At least, that’s what the captain said.”
Prufrock sighed, and then leaned back against his chair. A moment passed.
“I guess we’re headed out then,” he finally retorted. “Christie!”
From the opposite end of the precinct, a broad jawed and solid figure whirled out from behind his cubicle.
“What?” Detective Alfred Christie replied with a yawn. He hadn’t drunk his morning coffee yet.
“We got a new tip on the Marjorie Murder.”
“Chinaman down on 13th Street.
“Christ, why do we have to check out ever-single anonymous tip—”
“Captain said we’re checking it out.”
“Fine,” Christie grumbled, “We’ll check it out.”
And so, the two perfectly acceptable detectives -- clothed in their muddled trench coats and well-kept badges -- strolled down the nearest stairwell, and then departed from the precinct.
The afternoon drizzle cascaded alongside the driver-side window. On the windshield, droplets of rain sputtered and fluttered and trembled against such weighted forces of rainfall.
“I swear we’re just going to hear what’ve we always heard,” Christie rambled, “I saw a man who looked suspicious, and because he looked suspicious that means he was the one who did it.”
“That may be true, but we still have to uphold the law,” Prufrock recited, “It’s our job to serve and protect.”
“Bullshit. You just don’t care anymore because you’ve got your eyes set on next week’s paycheck.”
Prufrock said nothing. He gazed outward at the bustling city. A film of fog covered it with a murky layer of gloom. It was as if the mere idea of a happy thought would send this city hurling over its edge with no means to repair itself. Fuck, why was it always raining here? Cyclists weaved in and out of the swarming vehicles. Looming skyscrapers stretched towards the stratosphere. Local vagrants camped out at the curbside looking for a handout. God, he fucking hated traffic.
“I mean let’s look at the facts,” Christie went on, “The victim had no friends or family, nobody knows her prior whereabouts to the night of the murder, and the statement we took from the pimp is circumstantial. Let’s face it Prufrock: this case is going nowhere.”
“And if it was your little girl?”
Christie straightened up from his hunched over position in the passenger seat.
“I wouldn’t care. She’s not my daughter,” Christie coolly replied.
“But she is someone’s daughter.”
“And who gives a fuck, Prufrock? At the end of the day if someone doesn’t get loved
enough as a child, and then turns to working the streets because of it? So be it. Is it a sad story? Yes. But is it our problem? Absolutely fucking not.”
“…I suppose it’s not then.”
“You got that damn-right.”
The vehicle slowly swerved around the corner. Prufrock let the wheel slide between his finger-tips.
“So, how’s Terri,” Prufrock inquired.
“She’s doing better, at least, I think she is,” Christie replied, “She has some sort of art-show coming up next week, so things seem to be looking up.”
“What’s the exhibit supposed to be about?”
“Raymond Carver. Some sort of novelist, or something like that.”
“Short stories,” Prufrock dryly replied, “Carver wrote short stories.”
“Huh, well who would’ve thought it: you’re educated,” Christie retorted. “Take the next right.”
Detective Prufrock calmly hit the blinker and merged into the next lane.
“All I care about is if she’s happy,” Christie continued, “If she’s happy creating art then that’s fine by me.” A moment passed; finally, Christie began to laugh. “I guess it also means better sex in the long-run.” he said, with a chuckle.
“So chivalrous of you”
“What, should a man not know what he wants?
“And what do you want then Christie?”
Christie, for a moment, paused.
“For her to be happy of course,” he finally declared.
The police car eventually pulled up to a soiled curb. Outside: all the beauty and squalor that could be found in ethnic restaurants and neon streetlamps; seedy alleyways and thick accents; empty apartments and rusted street-signs; Chinatown.
“Shall we get on with it?” Christie asked,
Prufrock simply nodded.
“Can you describe the suspect in detail?” Christie questioned, “What did he look like? Any definable or noticeable features? Hair, piercings, anything that first comes to mind?”
The Chinamen stared at Christie with a blank expression; he was boggled and bug-eyed. It was the type of expression you see on an Asian child sitting on a mechanical helicopter that shakes when you put quarters in it.
“About your height,” The Chinamen spoke with a thick accent, “square jaw, well-built, dark hair.” The Chinamen maintained direct eye-contact with Christie. “Caucasian.”
“Thanks, you’ve been a really big help.”
Detective Christie closed his notepad, and then ambled to Prufrock, who took cover from the rain near-by under the awning of a local-fruit market.
“Anything?” Prufrock grumbled
“Nothing.” Christie replied
“Well, what did you expect? We all look the same to them.”
“He’d probably say you’d think the same thing of him.”
Christie sullenly glanced over at the Chinamen; he stared at the two detectives from the safety of his noodle shop. It was probably his first experience with police where he didn’t end up in handcuffs and in the back of a car –– to serve and protect, I suppose. In the distance: a sunset, which cast a perfect pinkish hue that shone proudly against the concrete.
“We should head back to the precinct. It’s getting late.” Prufrock yawned.
Christie took one last look at the fire red, gas-blue, and ghost-green streetlamps that illuminated the soiled street; beautiful, but haunting.
“I suppose we should,” Christie eventually said.
The clock read fifteen past nine; it was time to punch out and head home.
“Prufrock, we’re headed to Tapley’s,” Christie yelled with one foot already out the door, “Care to join?”
Next to Christie, there were two slender-police women: a brunette, new to the force, whose startling chocolate eyes already had most of boys talking amongst themselves seeing as to which one of them could fuck her first (Prufrock’s money was on Christie.) And then, of course, there was Kelley: the precinct’s very own whore. She wore, as usual, that petit red dress of hers which made us all swoon.
But Prufrock did not give either of them the slightest look. His attention, rather, was fixed on the neighbouring lights of the skyscrapers looming outside the window.
“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there,” he said.
“Sure, you will,” Christie retorted, as he promptly left with his two female companions for the night.
“Most of those lights are shining into empty-offices with nobody in them,” Prufrock thought to himself as he stared at the skyscrapers. It was a depressing thought. Everyone in those empty offices had gone home for the day. They were home with their family and friends; they were home with their friends and family.
Prufrock whirled out of his chair, galloped across the floor, and opened the filing cabinet. He began to sift through the pages of the coroner’s report:
“Victim: Marjorie Summers
Victim’s description: Blonde, Green eyes, 5’8
Time of Death: 3:00 am
Last known whereabouts: Wanda’s Strip-Club.
Cause of death: multiple blunt force injuries as well as internal bleeding.
External Examination: Twenty-five-year-old Caucasian female beat to death. Pronounced dead on arrival. External examination concluded multiple blunt force injuries to both head and torso, as well as repeated blows to both stomach and groin. Tissue damage and lacerations found near vaginal region. Possible traces of semen…”
Prufrock frowned. The last person to see her was someone who didn’t even know her; it seemed a futile endeavour. Why waste precious time and resources searching for an individual who may or may not exist? And then he thought of it: could it possibly be him?
Oh, it must be the Chinaman! It must be the marriage-less and the morose! It must be a man without any passion or life! It must be someone with no will or desire to go on! It must be him!
…But was it? Or was it simply these pallid walls--they looked somewhat padded if you looked at them from the right angle --that called to Prufrock?
Prufrock sat at his desk alone. The wooden boxes littered with paperwork were stacked neatly on the shelves. A flower Prufrock liked to take care of was dried and withered on the window-sill. The precinct was decorated with cubicles, and a low hanging-roof. A musky smell was palpable to the nose. The walls were porcelain, grey, and pallid. He had once wished to go away from here -- somewhere far away. He had once wished to know the smell of wet-concrete and its splendour as he and his son would play catch on an autumn day. He had hoped for a light, kind, bouncy, everything is “fine” LA wife. He had once hoped for these things.
How had his life filled to the brim, and emptied so soon?
Prufrock shut the coroner’s report, and then stared out at the skyscrapers; apathy is a solution. The lights dimmed and the precinct darkened. The shouts and honks heard from the street below, sang him to that urban lullaby. They sound like a beach; they sound like the mermaids singing each to each. And Prufrock, lost in his beautiful deliriousness, drifted off slowly, ever so slowly, to sleep.
He slept in silence.
A boney hand nudged his shoulder.
Prufrock’s eyes fluttered open. Bearing directly over him was Christie. Christie’s dress-shirt was wrinkled. Christie reeked of whiskey and some other ungodly smell and Prufrock could not put his finger on what it was.
“Slept at the office again?
“Just resting my eyes” Prufrock quipped. Christie laughed. But the moment passed, and it was soon replaced with a somber and serious mood. Prufrock looked up at Christie, and then stared directly into his mysterious and striking and emerald eyes.
“I know who did it, Christie. We got him.” Prufrock said.
“Who?” Beads of sweat began to form upon Christie’s forehead.
“The Chinamen. It has to be him.”
Christie shot Prufrock an incredulous look. Then he crossed his arms over his chest.
“What makes you so sure, Prufrock?”
“The statement we took from the Chinaman doesn’t line up with the victim’s time of death.”
Christie cast another disapproving glance in Prufrock’s direction.
“I don’t how to explain it…but, every bone in my body says its him.”
“…You sure it’s not because you don’t like the Chinese?”
“What? I love the Chinese! I’m not letting race influence my judgement if that’s what your implying…”
“Could’ve fooled me, Prufrock.”
Prufrock stared at his partner in disbelief. How could he accuse him of such vile sentiments? Racist? How could a guy like me be racist?
“Listen to me Prufrock,” Christie finally interjected,” Take the day off. Captain called in sick. He won’t know a thing.”
“But…” Prufrock stuttered. A fury of emotions he had never felt before swelled in his heart and stomach. His face was flushed crimson. His hands clenched into a ball, ready to smash anyone or anything into a brilliant, pulpy mess. And then Prufrock began to raise them¾ with his mouth just as ready to protest¾ and when it was finally the moment to strike… Nothing. It was not worth fighting over.
“Fine, I’ll go home.” Prufrock eventually said.
Christie smiled, and his muscles--which were quite taut initially--began to relax.
“That’s what I like to hear.” Christie replied in turn.
And so, Prufrock swung his jacket around him, put on his coat, and then departed from the precinct. From the window, Christie watched as Prufrock stepped out of the rain and into the cruiser. Christie smiled. He enjoyed the fact that this city nurtured apathy as if it were a virtue.
As he was perched up against the edge of the passenger seat, Prufrock peered out the window. Besides the fire red, gas blue, and ghost green streetlamps, a lonely apartment stood tall at the end of the block. But there was no Chinaman to be found. There was only the sad spectacle of homeless bums picking up water-logged cigarette butts off the pavement. They were desperate for a light, any light, that could fill their lungs with a new breath of life; they wanted to feel alive.
But Prufrock did not care. His attention, rather, was fixed on the door of the lonely apartment that stood tall at the end of the block. Where was that china-fuck? With his slant eyes, and blank expression, and shrivelled ball-sack skin, where could that Chinaman be? He had nowhere to be. Where the fuck was he? He will come. He must come. God, please let him come.
But no one ever came. And poor Prufrock, for the next few hours, remained perched at the driver-side widow, searching for his precious Chinamen. He had lost the moment that would never come again. The toppling moment of clarity where you saw your whole life laid out in front you, inch by inch, detail by detail, and understood it absolutely. The toppling moment of clarity where you pulled on the universe’s threads, and it unravelled for you willingly. The toppling moment of clarity where you understood your place in humanity’s story, and knew you were loved. What was my story? Did I have a destiny? Or was I always meant to be this bitter and lonely and sorry excuse of a man?
…Ring…Ring…Ring. Prufrock’s phone buzzed in his pocket. A moment passed; then, he finally picked up his phone.
“Hello?” Prufrock said, as crystalline wetness flowed down his cheeks.
“Where are you right now? a disembodied voice answered; the voice belonged to Christie.
“I don’t know.” Did I ever know?
“Well, my wife and I were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner? I know you’ve had a rough couple of days recently, and it looks like you could use the company?
Prufrock glanced at the pack of bums who continued to search for a dry cigarette.
“…Sure. When should I come over?”
“Around seven, eight o’clock is fine”
“Ok. I’ll see you around then.
Prufrock hung up the phone. He put the key into the ignition. He turned on his blinker, and then merged onto the street. The scenery of Chinatown with all its beauty and squalor could be seen in his rear-view mirror.
Prufrock never looked back.
The mahogany door swung open. In the doorway, a slender blonde stood. Her hair was neatly tied up, and she wore a pristine white blouse. On any day of the week, she was quite the catch -- Prufrock just loved those emerald green eyes of hers.
“You must be John,” She sweetly said, “Alfred has told me a lot about you.”
“Hopefully not too much,” Prufrock replied, “I’m afraid you husband hasn’t give me the same pleasure.”
She let out a tender laugh; she’s absolutely-beautiful.
“It’s Terri,” she said.
Prufrock rested his weight against the door frame “It’s a pleasure to meet you Terri,” he replied. The two stood in silence in the doorway. Terri twirled her fingers through her hair. After a while, she gestured towards inside.
“Well, come on in then,” she said, “Please, hang your coat up and put your shoes on the rack.” Prufrock did as he was told, and then shut the door behind him. He quietly observed his surroundings: immaculate furniture, fur rug, artisanal paintings¾ a home of culture. John took one last look of the living room, and then strolled into the kitchen. At the dinner table, Christie read a frayed paper-back; it was titled: What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.
*“*I didn’t know you read.” John quipped. Alfred titled his head upward to look at John. Then he stood up from his chair.
“Only to keep up with my wife’s latest pursuits”, Christie replied, as he walked over to Terri who waited patiently for him. He clasped his arm around her waist, nuzzled her neck, and then both of them posed. Cute. Terri tilted her gaze to the floor, and then back up again. A moment passed; finally, she spoke:
“I’ll leave you two be. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” Christie nodded in agreement.
“That sounds good, Hun.”
And so, while Terri prepared dinner, the two men talked at the dinner table. They talked about all sorts of things: life, sports, politics—the things that made dinner with a colleague enjoyable. In the meantime, Terri chopped all sorts of vegetables onto the cutting-board. She chopped Carrots. Chop.Chop.Chop. She chopped onions. Chop.Chop.Chop. Her eyes welled up with salty tears. Finally, she sliced a tomato in half; its scarlet juices spilled out onto the cutting board. Some of the seeds also spilled out with the juices. Terri neatly cleaned up the entrails, and then proceeded to take care of what was cooking in the oven¾ roast beef, to be exact. As she continued to monitor the oven, the two men still talked about all the important things. And after nearly twenty minutes of the same process, it was finally time to eat.
“Alfred, can you clear the table? Terri called out, while holding a silver platter in hand.
“Of course, Hun.”
And so, Christie cleared the dinner table. Terri ambled to the dinner table as well. She placed the silver platter--which had a myriad of savoury delicacies --on the far end of the table. Christie continued to set up the cutlery: silk napkins and porcelain plates. And Prufrock awkwardly stood in place, his thumbs in his pockets.
“John, would you be a dear and get something to drink?” Terri gestured towards the corner of the room. “The liquor cabinet’s just over there,” she said. Prufrock strolled over to the liquor cabinet, and then picked out a bottle of gin. When he was finished, he walked back over to the dinner table. And once everyone else had finished their individual tasks, the three of them all sat down, each of them ready to enjoy a good meal.
They dug readily into their food.
“So, John are you married?” Terri said, while cutting a juicy chunk of meat.
“No wife unfortunately.” John replied.
“Not even a special someone?” Terri smiled sweetly at him.
“Once upon a time.” John said. He wiped his mouth with the silk napkin, staining it. “No women around these parts anymore.”
“That’s a shame” Terri replied.
Christie cautiously observed from his seat. He cupped his hands over his chin, and then leaned forward with his elbows. A very precise movement. The once gentle drizzle outside had transformed into a heavy downpour. The once sputtering and fluttering and trembling droplets now plopped loudly against the sidewalk, disrupting the serenity of the dining-room.
“So, tell me Teri. Christie says you have some sort of art-show coming up soon?
“Yeah, I do,” she replied. “It’s an exhibit on Raymond Carver.”
“Christie was telling me earlier.” Prufrock turned his attention to Christie. “I saw you were reading Carver before I arrived. I didn’t know you read,” Prufrock chuckled. Terri laughed too. Christie sat in silence. With his knife, he gnawed away at the roast beef; it was difficult to cut through.
“Yeah, I was reading what we talk about love” Christie softly replied, while still staring down at his meal. He set down his utensils for a moment. Then he looked upward to gaze at his wife. “I’m enjoying it so far.”
Christie reached across the table and touched Terri’s cheek with his fingers. She let out a half-smile, and then she returned her attention back to Prufrock. She remained fixed on Prufrock.
“How do you know Carver?” she asked.
“I took Literature in college.” Prufrock replied.
“Oh, so you didn’t always dream of being a detective?
“I would’ve preferred to have read detective stories than experience the real thing.”
Terri laughed. So did John. Christie sat in silence. A moment passed; eventually, Terri smoothed the rumples that had formed on her blouse. Then she sat up straight in her chair. And shortly afterward, she edged closer to Christie¾their knees touched.
“So how long, have you and Alfred been married?’ John eventually asked.
“Not long. Alfred used to be married before we met each-other.
“Really? Huh, I didn’t know that.”
Terri reached out for her husband. He gently picked up her hand.
“Even with his heart broken, he still had the heart of a romantic.” With his fingers, Christie encircled her wrist. Then he held her.
“Terri and I weren’t married then, and my first wife had the house and kids, the dog, everything, and Terri and I were living in this house here,” Christie stared deeply in to Terri’s eyes. He put his hand on her warm thigh and left it there.
“She saved my life,” Christie declared.
The couple inched closer to each other. Prufrock thought about this. He thought about all of this. This charade, this image, this lie they presented.
How could a man resist? Prufrock downed the last bit of gin remaining in his glass.
“But how do you know its love?
Terri tilted her gaze to the floor. Christie let Terri’s hand fall to her side.
“Well I mean how could it not be? Christie replied, with a stutter.
“Christie, what do any of us really know about love? You say you love your wife, and I don’t doubt it. And Terri you probably love your husband too. Christie loves Terri, and Terri loves Christie. But you must account for the fact that before you met each-other, you must’ve loved other people. Fuck, Christie you married someone before you met her. And you probably loved your first wife back then, just as much as you love Terri now. You probably loved your first wife more than life itself… I know I sure as hell loved the girl that used to be in my life. I did. I know I did. But all I remember of her now is the memory of hating her. That’s what sticks with me. I remember wanting to bash her fucking brains in with a club. So I could watch the blood pool out from her pretty skull, and be content knowing she wouldn’t bitch at me anymore…what happened to that love? Was it love? Because honestly, I don’t know.”
Terri stared at her plate. Christie’s hand reached out for Terri’s -- their hands never met.
“I’m sorry it seems I’ve had a little too much to drink”
Christie said nothing. A moment passed; finally, he spoke:
Prufrock fingered the ice-cubes in his glass. Then he looked up at Christie and Terri. They were mere inches away from each-other; they couldn’t be farther apart.
“Ah, I remember the story now” Prufrock said, “the one by Raymond Carver you were talking about. It’s the one with the cardiologist, right? I think his name was Mal or some¾
“Mel.” Christie interjected.
“Right. How silly of me.”
“She’s allergic to bees,” Mel said. “If I’m not praying she’ll get married again, I’m praying she’ll get herself stung to death by a swarm of fucking bees.”
“Shame on you,” Laura said.
“Bzzzzzzz,” Mel said, turning his fingers into bees and buzzing them at Terri’s throat. Then he let his hands drop all the way to his sides.
“She’s vicious,” Mel said. “Sometimes I think I’ll go up there dressed like a beekeeper. You know, that hat that’s like a helmet with the plate that comes down over your face, the big gloves, and the padded coat? I’ll knock on the door and let loose a hive of bees in the house. But first I’d make sure the kids were out, of course.”
He crossed one leg over the other. It seemed to take him a lot of time to do it. Then he put both feet on the floor and leaned forward, elbows on the table, his chin cupped in his hands.
“Maybe I won’t call the kids, after all. Maybe it isn’t such a hot idea. Maybe we’ll just go eat. How does that sound?”
“Sounds fine to me,” I said. “Eat or not eat. Or keep drinking. I could head right on out into the sunset.”
“What does that mean, honey?” Laura said.
“It just means what I said,” I said. “It means I could just keep going. That’s all it means.”
“I could eat something myself,” Laura said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life. Is there something to nibble on?”
“I’ll put out some cheese and crackers,” Terri said. But Terri just sat there. She did not get up to get anything. Mel turned his glass over. He spilled it out on the table.
“Gin’s gone,” Mel said.
Terri said, “Now what?”
I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone’s heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.
Prufrock stared at the passage. Unwavering and unyielding, Prufrock rested his cold eyes upon those pulsating words. It was as if the longer he looked the longer he would feel their tortured content -- that primitive and painful ecstasy, which always seemed to escape him.
“Christie called in sick today.”
Near the doorframe to his office, the man with the monotone voice stood.
“Said it’s pretty bad.” The man with the monotone voice went on, “Said he won’t be back for a while.”
Prufrock, for more than a moment, said nothing. He simply gazed at the case-file sitting on his desk.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Prufrock quietly replied.
“Don’t mention it.”
The man with the monotone voice began to walk away. A moment passed; finally, Prufrock rushed to the door-frame.
“Hey, um…” Prufrock called out; What was his name?
“Yes?” the man with the monotone voice replied.
“What’s your thoughts on the Marjorie Murder?”
The man with the monotone voice shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s been what, over a year now? I don’t think it’s worth losing anymore sleep over.”
“Why do you say that?”
The man with a monotone voice let out a deep breath. In fact, it was probably the most attention Prufrock had ever paid him.
“Everybody looks the same these days,” he said, “Squint your eyes hard enough I bet you can’t tell the difference between you and me.”
Prufrock stood in silence and thought about this.
“I suppose that’s true,” he finally replied.
The man with a monotone voice gave Prufrock a little nod, and then disappeared in to the precinct. Prufrock never saw or heard from him again. Perhaps this man with the monotone voice was never there at all -- an apparition, who simply appeared and disappeared when needed. Alas, these troubling thoughts were too much for poor Prufrock. He need not know all the complexities of this world, and the uncertainties that lay behind its grey-curtain. “Apathy is a solution,” he thought to himself. And so, naturally of course, Detective John C. Prufrock sat back down in his favourite chair, and closed that cankerous case-file, forever -- After all, next week’s paycheck was just around the corner.
The Watchtower & The Illuminati
Chris family - Domelie family-Irish bloodline.
Karrls - JW Overseer in Miami, FL Prince George McKee-Monroeville, AL Melers, or Myer-Jewish Satanic bloodline.
Sharon Russell - left the Illuminati, still a JW, worked with police showing ritual sites.
Princess Proud Swift - lived in Delaware, with the travel industry Jim Tifton-important WT official and elder in So. Calif. A secret Satanic serial murderer.
Walt family - Woomer family- The areas which have been identified as strong Satanic stronghold within the Watchtower religious empire are: Southern California (cap. San Bernadino Valley), Florida, the Carribean, Scotland, Bethel Headquarters in Brooklyn, and various places in New York. I expect that this list of strongholds is very incomplete. According to an eye witness of the Illuminati within the Watchtower Society the following items can be ascertained:
· Some type of trauma-based mind control is being used to create MPD and control children born into the Illuminati within the WF Society.
· The rank and file JWs have no awareness that the WT Society has a secret upper level of involvement. (Note, I identified this upper level in my chart explaining how religions are controlled by Satanism.)
· The Illuminati within the Jehovah’s Witnesses have a hidden agenda that is separate from the published goals of the WT Society, although they also support many of the goals of the Society.
· Beside rituals taking place in the above-mentioned stronghold areas, it is of value to point out that one of the rituals that I have found out about took place when a boatload of generational satanic JWs went to the Bahamas (believed to be Andros Is.) and had a ritual at a high place. This was in 1958.
· The WT Society performs a secret ritual every year which is their primary ritual. This ritual is actually the ancient gnostic (satanic) ritual of saying no to the body of Christ. This ancient satanic ritual is now secretly practiced under the disguise of the Memorial Supper - where the elements of communion are passed and no one partakes of the elements. (When I say ‘no one’ I mean that in a qualified sense-only a small group are allowed to partake. The actual figures of how many partake of the elements is a totally fictitious figure according to my sources, which is created at Bethel headquarters in Brooklyn.
There are three items which relate to what has been described above.
· There is a particular man who is well informed about the WT Society who is able to explain how the WT Society is interlocked with a lot of major corporations.
· As a consequence of how connected the WT Society is with politics, big business, etc. the WT Society has been closely watched by the FBI which has over 12,000 pages in its files on the WT Society alone. This figure does not include its extensive files on individuals, of which every one of the WT Society Presidents has had a file.
· Canadian citizens who have tried to find out why the Watchtower Society in Canada is allowed to evade taxes, have been stonewalled by government officials. MacGregor Ministries newsletter News & Views, Oct. 1993, p. 10 discusses how various people have tried to expose the Watchtower’s avoidance of the GST and how the Minister of Finance, the Minister of National Revenue and many other government groups have simply stonewalled people. The fax no. of one of the most powerful committees of the Watchtower Society is the WT Service Dept. whose fax no. is 718-6244030. This newsletter will continue to bring articles on the various branches of Satan’s One World Religion which includes the Mormon authority structure, the Catholic authority structure, the Pentecostal and the Jehovah’s Witnesses authority structures just to name a few. One of the strangest things for this Author was to continue running into evidence that seems to indicate Charles Taze Russell, the man who started the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Watchtower Society, was secretly an important Satanist. Lest the reader devalue the evidence, permit this author to state that the evidence came in first before I came up with my theory that Russell was an important Satanist, and not vice-versa. Some of the outstanding clues are:
a.) C.T. Russell was definitely a Mason, yet he puts up some great smokescreens in his writing concerning his membership.
b.) C.T. Russell’s Bethel staff became concerned about his occultic activities and required him to take an oath forswearing any further occultic activities.
c.) In my previous book The Watchtower and the Masons, I study 35 parallel beliefs that Russell had with Masonry. I spent a page per parallel. These 35 are not in any way inclusive, Russell had many other identical ideas to what the Masonic lodges propogate.
d.) Various items from magic were part of Russell’s religious beliefs including healing handkerchiefs, phrenology, the Winged-Sun-Disk, Enochian Magical planes, etc.
e.) Russell’s family’s possible Illuminati links, and his wife’s possible connections with a family line of Satanists.
f.) Russell’s apparent secret Rosicrucian membership with the Quakertown, PA group of Rosicrucians, as revealed by the pyramid he ordered erected, his use of the Winged-Sun-Disk. and his cremation three days after his death.
g.) Russell owned a cemetery in Pittsburgh. Leading Satanists try to own cemeteries for several reasons. First, it facilitates the disposal of human sacrifices which are buried in pieces below the fresh holes dug for someone else’s burial. When the casket is placed in the hole, it would be rare for anyone to dig below the casket level ever again. Second, magic power is associated with cemeteries. The spiritual power of the dead is pulled up by making a circle of light over them within the circle, a naked Satanist lays. Third, specific bones are sought such as the skulls and left hands. Left hands are preserved in order to hold candles for certain ceremonies.
h.) Contacts from various places today indicate that the modern Watchtower Society is working with the New World Order. This implies that at some point the Society began cooperating with the New World Order. Russell seems to be the likeliest starting point.
UNDERSTANDING CHARLES T. RUSSELL
As with all occult organizations, a veil of secrecy is maintained by requiring initiates to take secrecy oaths on penalty of death. As in Witchcraft, Masonry repeatedly demands secrecy oaths at every new level. Charles T. Russell began participating in this secrecy when he took the Entered Apprentice (first Masonic degree) oath on penalty of mayhem and violent death, “I ... do hereby and hereon most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear that I will always hail, ever conceal and never reveal any of the arts, parts or points of the secret arts and mysteries of ancient Freemasonry which I received, am about to receive, or may hereafter be instructed in ...”
- Confidential interviews with ex-Satanists.
- Interview by Dr. Al Carlisle with a Black Prince recorded in Stratford, L. Satan’s Underground. p. 144.
ONE SAMPLE OF THEIR PLANS
An example of how ingenious these plans are to create a One-World-Government consider the following part of it. The Drug War is not what it seems. It is a very ingenious scheme to enslave the American people and destroy all their civil rights. The first rumblings of the Drug War part of The Plan seem to stir from the occult, so it is highly possible the Drug War originally was first developed by Satanists, perhaps even given during one of the Feasts of the Beast. The Drug War seems like the perfect plan, with no way for the Power to lose. First, the Power creates a drug culture in America. The Drug Culture would and did give many their first step into the Aquarian (New Age) conspiracy.6 The Power would make billions of dollars by running drugs, to further finance other nefarious schemes, and could use their world-wide power to crush all their competitors. When the Power crushed and arrested their competitors in drug running, they would be hailed as heroes by the majority of people. (And they have.) The introduction of drugs into society does several things. It taxes the Christian church’s ability to oppose immorality. It gets the public indignant about drugs, and the public’s moral outcry allows the Power to pass “drug” laws that remove the last vestiges of legal civil rights. In fact, the beguiled public demands the laws which abolish their rights and applauds these laws in ignorance unknowing what the laws actually say and mean. If the public somehow gets a complete picture that their government has been smuggling drugs to create a drug war in spite of the controlled media, or perhaps through the media at the right time, then they can create a scandal involving several U. S. Presidents to eliminate the U.S. government and switch the public’s allegiance to a world government. (See chapter 3.9 for more details and a chronology of the secretly planned escalation of today’s designed Drug War.) As an ex-Mason, who is very aware of their plans, said to this author, “These people are in it for the long-term.”
THE BLOODLINE OF THE RUSSELLS
The purpose of this next subsection may be misunderstood unless I make myself clear at this point. This author has not established any link between the various famous Russells. (Although I have been doing genealogy work, I have not had the chance to do the long-term genealogy work required to clarify the issue, if the reader is dissatisfied with the extent of this information, he is encouraged that rather than criticize to research it himself.) The reader will observe by the time he finishes this book, that this author has done extensive research into many groups. One item that has popped up consistently is that people with the surname Russell repeatedly appear as important figures in the various elements of the World Order as it has developed. Before becoming aware of the One World Order, this Author had no inkling how important bloodlines have been for the elite that controls the world. Friendships have also played a role, for instance, Eleanor Roosevelt (who was involved in numerous communist organizations’ and was an actual card-carrying member of the American communist party) was a close friend and confidant to Ronald Reagon’s mother. This seems trivial, but the reoccurrence of bloodlines and the re-occurant discovery of connections of friendships between what have been thought of as unrelated personages compels one to believe the elite is more compact than appears. (More on that later) The mysterious Watchtower Society and its founder Charles Taze Russell will serve as perhaps the most used example in this book of an organization that is secretly serving the New World Order. (The reader will be presented with the history of all this throughout the book, especially in chapters 5-17 of the first section.) Chapter 1 .8 will go into more details on what circumstantial evidence there is that might lead one to believe that Charles T. Russell was a Satanist. The author is aware that there are Jehovah’s Witnesses that are covert Satanists.8 The Russell family appears to have moved from Germany to Scotland and from Scotland to Northern Ireland. In the 1820’s Alexander G. Russell went to New York City and then onto Orange Co., NY. He could write firsthand how good it was. When the Potato famine hit during the 1820s, the Russells did not have the roots to Ireland that the original Irish had, and the rest of the family moved to America, except for Fannie’s husband Alexander Harper, who stayed behind in Donegal estranged from his wife.
Let’s comment about the type of Russells that keep appearing throughout the course of the history of the New World Order as this author went about his research. To summarize, these various Russells (who until the genealogy work is done to show the connections should be viewed as individuals -- not a group) have been prominent members of the Illuminati, the Masons, the Fabians, the Mormons, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Jesuits, the Royal Society, and the Media controlled by those of the New World Order, and a deputy chairman of the Federal Reserve. Typically they have been merchants and lawyers, with a fair share of them also as Christian heretics. It will be easier perhaps to illustrate how the Russells keep popping up in the New World Order storyline by listing a good sampling of them.
SAMPLE OF RUSSELLS OF INTEREST
RUSSELLS WHO FOUNDED FRATERNAL SOCIETIES
William Huntington Russell - founder of what is believed to be an American chapter of the Illuminati (Skull & Bones Order).9 More on this in chapter 2.3. It’s legal name is Russell Trust. John Russell - founder of the fraternity of Daughters of Isabella (DOI) in May 1897 in New Haven, Conn.10
RUSSELLS CONNECTED TO FRATERNAL ORGANIZATIONS
Charles Taze Russell - Knights Templar Mason of York Rite, in Allegheny Pa. and founder of the WT Society. Harvey D. Russell - KT Mason leader of Pittsburgh, PA Beaver Valley Lodge No. 8412 John Russell - Pastor C . T. Russell’s step-mother was the executor of his will. His mother was the one chosen to dance with famous Mason and Illuminatus Lafayette when he was in Philadelphia.’13 William H. Russell - Mason and part owner of the Pony Express, which was a firm made up mainly of Masons.”14 George William Russell (1869-1935) - leading member of the Dublin Theosophist lodge wrote art. for the theosophic periodical The Irish Theosophist. Initiated into the Lodge of Isis (with it sexual rites). The keynote of his work is from the Bhagavadgita. He was a good friend of Golden Dawn leader William Butler Yeats who wrote some of the Satanic Masonic Rituals for the Golden Dawn.’15 James Russell- President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh which was associated with esoteric groups like the Masons.16 Archibald D. Russell (1811-1871) - A Presbyterian Mason who graduated from the Univ. of Edinburgh, Scot. He studied at the Univ. of Bonn, Ger. and was active in setting up various organizations in the United States. 17 Benjamin Russell (1761-1845)- Mason and early American Journalist.18 Charles H. Russell - Governor of Nevada, 1950-58, and 32º Mason, also in the York Rite, and a Shriner. 19 J. Stuart Russell - Mason and newspaper editor and deputy chairman of the Fed. Reserve Bank in Chicago.20 Lee M. Russell (1875-1943) - Mason and Lt. Gov. of Miss. 1916-20. (21) Louis A. Russell (1854-1925) - Mason, organist for South Park Presbyterian Church, Newark, N.J.22 Richard B. Russell (1861-1938) - Mason, judge, editor & business exec.22 Richard B. Russell, Jr. - Mason and Gov. of Georgia, 1931-33, and Sen. from Georgia since 1933.
- Before going to our next section would be worthwhile to cover the family that Bertrand Russell came from. They hold the title of Dukes of Bedford. Ordo W. Russell served in Lord Palmerston’s office from 1850-52. He served as unofficial ambassador for Great Britain to the Vatican from 1857-70. His son Baron Ampthill was Grand Master of the English Masons 1908-1935. He joined the English equivalent of the Knights of Malta - that is the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and served as the Grand Master of the lodge formed at the Bank of England! He was appointed head of the Indian Masons of Madras, India (home of the Theosophical Society). Ordo Russell’s son also served in some high political positions.
Charles Edward Russell, Jewish Socialist who worked for N. Y. Life controlled by J.P. Morgan, and also for N.Y. Tribune and Herald. 25.James E. Russell, Columbia University professor who introduced Wundt’s Hegelian philosophy to his students at Columbia. 26.Thomas Russell (1767-1803) - a revolutionist of the Illuminati-stream of Revolution. 27. Samuel Russell - represented Baring Bros. Helped open up the Port of Shanghai for the International Financiers.28 Bertrand Russell - famous Fabian socialist, and One-World Order. 29.Alys Russell- ex-eccentric Quaker, wife of Bertrand and also a Fabian Socialist. 30.Rev. Matthew Russell (1834-1912)- Jesuit writer.
- RUSSELLS CONNECTED IN SOME WAY TO THE IBSA (NOW CALLED JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES)
- RUSSELLS CONNECTED IN SOME WAY TO MORMONISM Elder Isaac Russell- a prominent early Mormon missionary to Great Britain in 1837.
- Captian Joseph H. Russell- original investor in stock in the Mormon Deseret Manufacturing Co. which was intended to be an umbrella company for many early Mormon enterprises.
- The Russell who opened a store with Mormon blessings in the newly created Salt Lake city. The store was called Miller, Russell & Co., a branch of Russell, Majors, & Waddell, and was a primary source of goods in the area of Utah.37
Baron Charles Russell (1832-1900)- Solicitor (Lawyer) in Ulster and advocate for Ireland.38 Jerome Russell a Greyfriar, burned in 1539 for heresy with John Kennedy in Glasgow, Scot.39 Philemon R. Russell- editor of the Christian Herald & Journal, in the Mar. 19, 1840 issue he stressed 2,520 years in prophecy, which was an idea C. T. Russell would later pick up and promote.
William Howard Russell- first war correspondent for London’s The Times newspaper in 1854. The London Times has long been part of the World Order, that William was the first of his kind is quite significant.
- Michels, Robert. Political Parties: A Sociological Study of the Oligarchical Tendencies of Modern Democracy. (orig. 1915) reprint: New York: Free Press, 1962, p. 70.
- This Author has collaborated the connection of the Mormon leadership to the Satanic bloodlines and the Priere de Sion through several independent sources. One descendent of Joseph Smith who took part in Satanic rituals hs been willing to tell about the family’s occult history. A Christian who was once part of the Satanic hierarchy who ran verbal instructions to the Mormon First Presidency from the Council of 13 collaborates their connections. The historical roots, even those that the Mormon leaders themselves have printed, expose the genealogical ties to some of the most powerful occult bloodlines.
- This subject is very controversial. One of the few books even willing to touch the subject in a scholarly biblical manner is Crawford, Jarah B. Last Battle Cry, Christianity’s Final Conflict With Evil. Knoxville, TN: Jann Publishing, 1986. Although I don’t concur with all of Crawford’s conclusions, the book shows more than enough evidence to support the point superscripted.
- Confidential source personally involved with it.
- The documentation to show that the drug war is a contrived scheme is extensive. I have chosen to place some of the documentation much further back, but will state that several researchers give seminars exposing it in detail. The Vietnam War was an important part of the scheme and since then some of the recent important laws passed to implement this contrived war are P.L. 99-570, P.L. 100-690, and the Omnibus crime bill in 1991.
- Marilyn Ferguson, New Age writer, states in her famous book The Aguarian Conspiracy, p. 90, “ ‘LSD gave a whole generation a religious experience. But chemical satori is perishable, its effects too overwhelming to integrate into everyday life. Non-drug psychotechnologies offer a controlled, sustained movement toward that spacious reality. The annals of the Aquarian Conspiracy are full of accounts of passages: LSD to Zen, LSD to India, psilocybin to Psychosynthesis.”
- Checks by the FBI and other federal agencies confirmed this.
- Victims of Satanism have disclosed information about some of the extents of Satanism within the rank and file Jehovah’s Witnesses and hierarchy. When it became obvious that the art department of the Watchtower Society has been hiding Satanic symbols in the pictures of Watchtower publications for many years the Governing Body chose to cover it up rather than stopping it.
- Sutton, Antony. America’s Secret Establishment. Billings, MT: Liberty House Press, 1986, pp. 5,6,8,35, 86-67, 100, 212, 253.
- Schmidt, Greenwood. Encyclopedia of American Institutional Fraternal Organizations. Westport, Conn. : Greenwood Press, 1980, p. 84.
- Various Christians have seen Charles T. Russell’s KT membership records which are filed in the Mother Lodge in Ireland. The connections between his beliefs and his actions as the WT Society’s leader and the Masons is the subject of my previous book The WT & the Masons.
- Proceedings of the Ninetieth Annual Conclave held in the City of Harrisburg, Dauphin County... PA: Knights Templars, 1943, p.114.
- This information is compiled from research from several sources. a. Nevin, Adelaide Mellier. The Social Mirror A Character Sketch of the Women of Pittsburgh and Vicinity during the first Century of the County’s existence. Society of today. Pittsburgh, PA: T.A. Nevin Publisher, 1888, p. 19.; b. The Pittsburgh Directory 1878-79 showing Elizabeth the widow of John, and c. John Russell in the 1850 Census, and John Russell’s Will.
- Denslow, 10,000 Famous Freemasons, Vol.4, p.82. William H. Russell is also mentioned in the New Age Magazine (June 1963) p. 45.
- This information comes from several sources including a. Boylan, Henry. A Dictionary of Irish Biography. NY: St. Martins Press, 1988, p. 345; b. Ancient Wisdom and Secret Sects, Time-Life, 1989, p. 154.
- Denslow, op. cit., p.80.
- Denslow, op. cit., p.82
- Biography of Americans.
- Sutton, Antony C. America’s Secret Establishment. Billington, MT: Liberty House, p. 84.
- Boylan, Henry. A Dictionary of Irish Biography. NY: St. Martins Press, 1988, p. 345.
- Mullins, Eustice. The World Order. Staunton, VA: Ezra Pound Institute of Civilization, 1985, p.92.
- The Fabians.
- Boylan, Henry. A Dictionary of Irish Biography. NY: St. Martins Press, 1988, p. 345.
- Springmeier, Fritz. The WT & the Masons, pp. 9, 215.
- Author’s genealogical research in Hopkins Co. TX history.
- Early Convention Report
- Evans, Richard L. A Century of Mormonism in Great Britain. Salt Lake City, UT: Publisher’s Press, 1937, pp. 34-35.
- Gibbons, Francis M. John Taylor Mormon Philosopher Prophet of God. Salt Lake City, UT: Deseret Books, 1985, p. 129.
- Utah Historical Quarterly, 1941, Salt Lake City, pp. 190-211.
- Boylan, op. cit., p. 344
- ibid., and Black, George F. The Surnames of Scotland. NY: The NY Public Library, 1962, p. 705.
There was enough circumstantial evidence to lead one to question several assumptions. I began to question the assumption that the W. T. presidents were unconnected to each other. Another supposition that was questionable was that the WT Society did not have a hidden agenda.
C.T. RUSSELL’S STORY
Once there was a Jewish family whose name was Roessel. They lived in early 17th century Germany. They moved to a country called Scotland. There they re-spelled the name Russell. They took on the ways of their new homeland. The English tried to settle Protestants from Scotland in Ireland in order to control the Irish. When the opportunity opened up to go to the Emerald Island (Ireland) with the Scottish settlers who went to the plantation Ulster they went. It is possible, but not known for sure that they learned to know the Rutherfords either in Scotland or Ireland. Scotland repeatedly appears as the source of much of the religious heresy connected with the Power. That C . T. Russell’s family were in Scotland for a period, and also from the German states which seem to be a hotbed for Jewish Satanism may be only a coincidence and then again it might be a clue to understanding the origin of the Watchtower Society. This Author’s previous book The Watchtower and the Masons tells the story how the Arian heresy began at the University of Edinburgh, Scotland and spread to the Presbyterians of the Synod of Ulster. The book gives this Author’s reasons for believing that the C . T. Russell’s family in Northern Ireland were Arian in belief before coming to the U. S. and chances are, they were involved with Freemasonry also.
THE ACKLEY CONNECTION
In The Watchtower and the Masons, the early history of C . T. Russell is given. Charles and his father married two Ackley sisters a number of years after Charles’ mother died. What is an intriguing item is that C . T. Russell’s mother’s will indicates she owned land in Iowa. A description of that land shows it was north of the town of Ackley, Iowa. It turns out that a man named William Ackley had purchased the land in that area, and had sold it in large part to Scot-Irish settlers of the Presbyterian faith as they were coming to America. At the time C T. Russell’s mother died a town named Ackley had been staked out in 1857, but the Civil War had interfered with construction plans. A Presbyterian congregation had been formed in the area during the early 1860s in the Ackley area, which indicates some settlers had arrived. What connection did the Russells have with the Ackleys years before Charles T. and his father married Ackley sisters? Who are the Ackleys? Maria Ackley, who was Charles T. Russell’s wife, was well-educated and an excellent writer. Interestingly, in the 19th century, she believed a socialist revolution was coming. She wrote, “This great revolution has not yet come, but where is the statesman or the intelligent citizen that does not see it coming?” (Russell, Maria. This Gospel of The Kingdom, p. 26.) She was the ghost writer and ghost editor for much of her husband Charles Taze's work. Her family was well-off. William Ackley, the land speculatoseller in Iowa, traces his ancestry back to Prence Doane and Elizabeth Godfrey. Elizabeth Godfrey, in turn, was the great-granddaughter of William Brewster of the Mayflower fame. The Ackleys were Puritans to begin with and seem to have been concentrated in the Connecticut area, and from there, their family members moved out into NY and PA. Another Ackley (1832-1881) at that time was Richard Thomas Ackley, a Freemason who worked for the Miller, Russell and Company store in Salt Lake City in 1858 soon after the Mormons built Salt Lake City.
Of course, these are all simply tantalizing leads for the investigator but nothing solid. There seems to be much more to Charles Taze Russell than the little that the public has been told. In the next few chapters, we will attempt to dispel some of the mystery surrounding the man.
God’s “Anointed Seed”
In 1852, the Joseph Lyttle Russell family had a baby who they gave the same name to as his uncle had. This baby, named Charles Taze Russell had a brother Frank who was two years older, but Charles ended up the favorite of his father. Later Charles would get a sister Margaret M. Both Charles T. and his sister Margaret spoke on various occasions that he had been chosen before his birth for the work that he was to carry out.1 Margaret referred to her brother as the greatest man alive “a giant unmatched.” She stated that he had been chosen for his religious work before his birth. Perhaps, Charles’ Russell family and his father Joseph L., (like Joseph Kennedy who had goals for his son to be president) had goals for Charles. If Charles had been encouraged to meet such expectations and had gone forward, then that could account for his sister’s great admiration for him. He had fulfilled her father’s wishes. At the Put-In-Bay Convention, his sister Margaret had outlined how God planned and chose her brother. First God had planted a seed with the early church. But the seed had laid dormant for centuries. “In due time”, she says, the seed of truth grew and was watered according to God’s plan. During the Dark Ages, the seed of truth was barely kept alive waiting for God’s Chosen One to bring it to fruition. When it was time, God “anointed the eyes” of her brother at age 17, and “God’s smile of favor rested upon him.” Margaret said her brother was the one, the faithful one who God could depend upon, the “one despite the burden and heat of the day” would remain faithful to God.2
- C.T. Russell is noted to have privately admitted his belief that he was chosen for his great work before his birth. The Finished Mystery. The Watchtower Bible & Tract Soc. 1917, p. 53. A testimony speech was given by his sister at the Put-In-Bay Convention where she said similar things is commented on The Laodicean Messenger, pp. 179-180.
- The Laodicean Messenger, pp. 179-180.
Russell Trust is the legal corporation that is the Order of the Skull and Bones, financed the creation of a host of security co. under the Wackenhuts, incl. a Security Service called Wackenhut Corporation. Another part of this is Wackenhut World Technologies, Inc. or WWT Inc. Wackenhut operates worldwide. Their headquarters are in Florida. They have branch offices even in places like Portland, Oregon. Wackenhut handles all Intelligence-related and Super Secret work-classIfied ULTRA for the US. worldwide. They are the ones who guard the UFO bases topside, along with the CIA’s Delta Teams, and various MP units, etc. Their branch in Las Vegas provides security for the Groom Lake UFO facility. Las Vega’s Review-Journal on Fri. 7/26/91, p. A1 & 3A had an article about 3 Wackenhut agents who lost their lives in a helicopter crash near the Groom Lake. The telephone number to Wackenhut World Technologies, connects first through the Russell Trust - it is 702-646-4406, and it will be answered by the Russell Trust. Wackenhut’s board of directors are CIA, FBI Div. 5, NSA, ISA, and NRO officials. The girls who answer the various local Wackenhut Corporation numbers are not in the know about what Wackenhut Wd. Tech. are all about. Their 1-800 # is 929-2431. Their San Reme Ave, Miami, FL 33146 # was 305-666-5656. Their local no. here is 256-3996, and one of their local CA # is 714-9794966. George Russell Wackenhut is their security services executive. He is also the Chief Exec. Officer. He worked for the FBI and is a Christian Scientist. Richard Russell Wackenhut is the President & Chief Oper. Officer. Wackenhut has in the neighborhood of 40,000 employees.
MORIAH & THE MORMON LEADERSHIP
THE TOP 13 FAMILIES & THE MORMON LEADERSHIP
Rather than having an article this time about an individual family-and we will return later to our articles on the 13 top families, Lord willing, -this article is an article about the 13 families in general.
In the first part of this article, we will deal with actual people. In the second part of this article, we will discuss the top secret inner workings of the Satanic religion that the top 13 Illuminati families participate in.
One of the things that the Illuminati has done is instill apathy in people toward resisting their wickedness. A letter by an ex-Mormon says it better than I could, “There are many reasons why these people (Mormons) will not come forth even though they know of the corruption in the Mormon church. One is due to their belief in Mormon scripture which they associate with the Mormon church. The leadership has usurped power and authority over this scripture. Thus, the members of the Mormon church think that God expects them to support their misguided leaders. This is much the - rationalization that many Americans make about our government. They all know of the corruption, but rationalize that it is unpatriotic to talk against the government or ungrateful to complain when they enjoy superficial prosperity.” It is interesting that this Mormon recognizes that the process of the common man’s reaction is the same to both Mormon and American leadership, because as we will discuss the top leadership in both the reader will learn they are related to each other and both under the control of the Top 13 Illuminati families.
THE MORMON LEADERS & THE 13Th TOP ILLUMINATI BLOODLINE
The Mormon president Ezra Taft Benson (considered a prophet by Mormons) was a fan of the John Birch Society. Most people who have not read my exposes on both the Mormon Church and the John Birch Society will not be able to protect themselves from the Illuminati. I don’t expose these organizations without a great deal of proof. I say this because I know from too many sources and too many angles that both organizations were initiated and have been run by the Illuminati. The Mormon church has long prophesied that they would defend the US. Constitution in the last days. They are moving to fulfill that with men like Bo Gritz, who sprinkles his talks with buzz words from Mormon prophecy. The John Birch Society was part of the process of the Hegelian dialectics of the cold war. They pretend to be the defenders of the people against the New World Order, but they are fake opposition. (I have met quite a few John Birchers, and so far although they claim to be against the New World Order, they want nothing to do with me, or to learn anything 1 might share with them. I can understand the leadership doing this to me, but somehow the rank and file have picked up on some of the attitudes of the leadership. I don’t know how the JBS has managed to do that, but the antagonistic attitudes that they have instilled in their people toward people like myself are amazing.) In my Be Wise As Serpents book I gave the genealogical evidence to show that the Mormon leadership connected to the 13th top Illuminati family, the Holy Bloodline of what purports to be Jesus ’s lineage. I’ve also shown numerous other connections between the Mormon leaders and the elite Illuminati bloodlines. Ezra Taft Benson’s genealogy helps tie together some of the various parts of the Illuminati beast. The Taft is Heusen’s name is because Ezra Taft Benson is a descendent of Alphonso Taft, who along with one of the Russell family (Russells...