QotD: Does that make me craazy?
On this day in 1888, Vincent van Gough cut off his left ear. In keeping with that spirit, what's the craziest thing you've ever done?
It is a sin to cut off one's body parts. Why? Because one's body belongs to Christ. Yet Christ said, "it would be better for YOU to cut off your arm or leg and pull out your eye than to go to Gehenna". Jesus emphasized YOU not a judge nor a jury. One would not pull out one's own eye. One would think about it. The eye belonged to Jesus. He purchased it with his life. One would meditate as to how one would improve one's thinking to bring that thinking into line with the thinking of Jesus. If one had a greedy eye one would need to work on that fault. There was nothing wrong with the human eye. Jesus was speaking thus of the spiritual eye but one thing was for sure if one did not correct oneself one would lose all right to life FOREVER in the Lake of Fire.
The arrival of Jesus placed mercy into the law and when the Mosaic law required the removal of a hand because one had become a habitual offender over a long period of time now MERCY stood in place and said, "this means everlasting life their taking in knowledge of You, the only true God, and of the one whom You sent forth Jesus Christ" (John 17:3)
The craziest thing I have ever done is this...I left home to preach the good news in Montreal, Quebec. This is the craziest thing I have ever done...I left home 1950-1953 to attend religious conventions to learn about Christ Jesus and how to preach that good news.
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I start to wonder all sorts of things while I am sleeping like "when Alanis ran out of gas while singing Isn't it ironic...exactly where was it...I know the trees were tall and the terrain was much like The Descent movie and she really needed to hitch a ride maybe even just jumping into the first car that pulls to the side. And it is like I have all this additional info like "the turtle cannibals just didn't live in the cave...there were smaller versions of themselves in the trees."
And I do this whole movie sequel last night. Alanis was picked up by the cave seekers and sleeps away in the car. She follows them into the cave and she finds the first turtle casualty but the turtle people don't react to Alanis like the screaming girls running all over the place. One thing about alligators they hunt by movement. She is surrounded by a village of turtlemen and she waits for them to go by her and she touches one on the arm and cheek and they think she is one of them. She sits with them and a smaller turtle child pulls itself out into the open with a broken arm and she uses bones as a splinter. She doesn't go beyond this point so she doesn't go where the cave falls in. She just goes back to sleep in the cars back seat as the turtle people all run after the screaming girls and noises that their ears pick up. In my dream she goes back to the cave dwellers followed by an army with all sorts of goodies. She knows what to expect. As the turtles surround her she watches as they browse through her gifts. She kneels in prayer and falls into a deep sleep just before her body is hacked to death. Only bloody mush is left but wait over in a corner a shadowy figure immerges as an angel with an angelic sword. All the exits were sealed by the army enclosing everyone inside and one by one the bodies of the turtle people pile up. She realized that they didn't have brains. At the most what they did have was mostly bloody mush like a worm. They would never be taught how to be friendly. And they would prefer human flesh over vegetables and candy. It is a sad thing to stamp out a life and a species. And like in Sphere she waves her hand and this television play is shown and there I am waving to the angel, "Where are you?"
She looks at me and she sees that I am in bed with Dennis and all four kids have climbed in for the night with us and it is time for us to go sleep in the kids bed.
"Where are you? I can't find you. Do you need my help?"
It is said that Iris Alona Wigle was found guilty in Montreal in 1967 for a crime she did not commit and was beheaded in England with the help of Nathan Knorr as signed by someone that had claimed to be Queen Elizabeth.
"This is not your signature is it Elizabeth? That would be treason."
An Iris Alona Wigle was beheaded in the UK ?December 05, 1970 the anniversary of my marriage to Dennis James Cutforth. And all she wanted to be in life ....was an angel.
"Her finger is missing?"
"It was probably lost in the fall," replied the mortician.
"Where's her eyeball?"
He shrugged his shoulder.
"Surely there must have been an eyeball and a finger at the scene of impact."
Did we check the vagina to see if she what Erin always referred to "as on the rag because she just had an abortion" in other words was she saying that someone had shoved a knife into the vagina mimicing an abortion. Victims that can be referred to in court as "prostitutes" and "dying giving herself an abortion" don't do well in the mind of the public. Thus, I wrote a Hitchcock movie about a bowtie serial rapist to take away the glamour of rape and in it I wrote down that a bar woman would say when she hears about the death and rape,? "well...she probably had some fun before she died" ???not exactly the same words. Margurite Bouchard would be mortilized in the French movie "Amelie" when a "blue fly lands on the streets of Paris, France" and two wine glasses dance on a table by themselves...the old Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee.
What was it that Erin Brocovich said of the two so called Mary Bell victims, was it, "and the murderer inserted the knife EVER SO GENTLY into the body"? How would she know? Like ever so gently with me in Montreal 1967 when David pushed a knife ever so gently into my bellybutton because he wanted to pull out my intestines and Roberta Kinoshita and him were wrestling over a live bird that he wanted to push inside me. That ever so gently type murderer? Or was she thinking of Faye Dunnaway when the knife went sideways from east to west and not north to south, ever so gently when Sharon Tate and her understudy was attacked?
"Ever so gently"...it almost sounds romantic???
How does one go up against a club claiming to be The Zodiac with members of up to three to six thousand in 1967 from Erin's lips to my ears? One becomes an angel.
I had another dream last night about The Descent. It wasn't turtle men. The tribe may have been baboons and when my Alanis goes back with a truck load of food and equipment followed by an army she rubbed the back of who she considered to be the possible Lord of the Jungle. And, she realized that all the baboons that had chased the female humans were males. And the ones that she thought were the children were actually the females. An attack was sure to be inspired because she was rubbing the back of someone's mate and the female was not taking it so lightly. The adults would have to be slaughtered one way or another and the army was totally prepared to drop a bomb. However, if the cave baboons didn't like vegetables could they be taught, if young enough, to change their diets to fish. A dozens of fish were poured down into the underwater lake just in case there was any one left over. Of course, there was, the females knew their place and the rule was that females were never to go down from the ledges and top levels. It was a rule to be obeyed. It is the rule of the jungle. It may or may not have been mating season. It may or may not have been close to their nurseries.
I was sweeping salt off of the steps where I am working currently as a superintendent and I thought of Dustin Hoffman's annoying tone.
"And was Jerry there Beth?"
"Damn you Dustin...yes...no...no...it was Bobby Darin....I think...no?"
Someone that reminded me of Bobby Darin. It wasn't Bobby though. I knew that. It was someone from a long time ago. And, Shirley Jane Temple explained it 1950 -1953 while she read her unwritten play to J. E. Hoover as psychiatrists were listening to evaluate her mental health. SHE HAD AN AUDIENCE!!!
"Who are you speaking with?"
She knew that they, humans, couldn't actually see ghosts, demons and angels.
"What is he saying to you?"
Quote: "Mark Anthony swore he was going to get even with you Cleopatra."
"Who is Cleopatra and what does she have to do with Mark Anthony?"
"Mark Anthony is this type of angel...really good looking...hush...I am telling a story."
"Why is he hushing you? What did he say?"
Quote: "He said that Cleopatra left Mark Anthony...(underbreath)...rather quickly...(okay)...in the middle of the night...(whispering to Hoover)...she would rather die than have to ever have sex."
"Is this Mark Anthony a human or an angel?"
"He is a little of both."
Shirley Jane smiled broadly and maybe some day you all might meet him.
"No Dusty. It was not Jerry."
I am certain that I am not certain that it was Jerry. Whoever it was knew that Alanis was in big trouble. Not even Jesus would have gone into that cave.
"Really?" interjected Estelle, "well here are the papers."
Baboons usually bite the ears and neck. It is a warning attack but those baboons seemed awfully powerful.
Someone once asked me what they had to do to be a good fiction writer and my answer was, "be a virgin and hang onto it with all your might."
In Montreal I worked in the cafeteria doing the same thing with just a plain potatoe peeler and a lot of sweat and after three days of not stopping to eat, Frank Roncorelli and Montreal elders placed a large sign which read, "pioneers eat for free". He had tried to tempt me to eat prior to this and I refused to confess that I had only enough money to travel to the assembly and to Jean Talon. I had no money for meals.
"Eat!" He would insist. But I am not a begger nor a thief. To just eat without paying as all the other's had done would have been stealing to my way of thinking. I walked by the sign, "pioneers eat for free" and lo and behold there were about fifty pioneers lined up who also didn't have any extra money for lunches. It was then that I lined up at the end of the line for a free meal.
What can I say about Georgina? She believed in Christ Jesus. They say that the week that she was abducted that she had given a talk on the platform with another JW woman about the resurrection. Was that just the press talking? It is so easy to believe everything said from a platform. I belived it in 1966. Georgina Jackson, JW young potato peeling woman, gave a five minute talk about her belief in the resurrection. I don't swallow the information so easily today. Was her murderers listening to her talk? Did they think to themselves, "Gosh almighty, Georgina believes in the resurrection, let's throw our Watchtowers and Bibles into the trunk, rape and kill her, she'll be back, after all she believes in the resurrection...right?"
I remember stopping to re-read the sentence that said, "Georgina gave a talk on the resurrection that week". Silence.
It seemed strange that's all. Her body wasn't found right away. It was a few days later. The newspaper said that her body was found after young boys walking along the highway searching for bottles in the snow saw a scarf and gave it to the police. Silence. My reading was like start...stop...start...stop...start...stop...let's back up to 1953. Let's go back to Lynn Harper. Let's go back to the Quebec car. Let's go back to the necklace left dangling on a fence that read, "this way to the body".
There are a lot of look and one will find. It is like a newspaper report ???around the murder of Linda Shaw, London, Ontario, between Tillsonburg 401 stretch and London. What was the girl's name? Does it matter? Man is walking his dog and what does he find? On a mound of dirt surrounded by water near the highway sits the wallet of ??? young girl. It is like a similair scene played out in the early seventies of Linda ?White except the person saw the wallet sitting undisturbed and without dirt and mold on top of garbage in the local dump. It is so strange that all three girls have similiar looks. I call it the White Cherokee look. A slant to the eyes but Linda White had died her hair yellow. Lynn Harper was to young to dye her hair but the look is there. Was the murderer racist or was he looking for a free aboriginal tax free card?
I had a major memory loss after visiting Marion McKinnon Tricker and her mercury tainted teas. When I started to pick up with my language I started doing all sorts of research on murders which made no sence to my family at all. I was hunting for someone which made less sence. Finally, I took all the research and burnt it in the Barclay Road fireplace. It must have taken five hours page after page. There goes Lynn Harper, Linda White, Linda Shaw....pages of faces going, going, going.
I went to Georgina's gravesight to say goodbye in Tillsonburg. It is an unmarked grave just at the side of the road. Nothing special...just grass. "Are you in there by yourself Georgina or did someone fill the coffin to the brim?"
"I felt her warmth. Her laughter. She was my sister...my spiritual sister...my forever spiritual sister. Wasn't that what the brotherhood was all about? I use to bounce about at assemblies in my youth.
"Hello brother."
"Hello sister."
I had no brother nor sister in 1967 Montreal.
I felt this kinship to Georgina. We had more than one tie outside of potatoes for hungry missionaries and Bible readers. We had a sadness that we shared.
It was stated in the press that her clothing was all over the place when her body had been found. Rumours had it that she was held down for four to seven days. Rumours had it that there were JW's that did everything that they could to hide the evidence. Rumours had it that she wasn't a virgin...that her younger brother was really her baby and that she was pregnant at the time of death...rumours from JW elders lips and their wives right up the God's ears. Did rumours make Georgina's death less important? Probably.
I sat on her grave and I whispered to her, "you are my sister forever. I won't forget you."
That was the extent of our relationship...just brief encounters at assemblies for several hours here and there. I built part of the My Fair Lady set with Georgina in mind. The part where Audrey visits the market and everyone is sitting around laughing and sharing the news of the last few days snapping off the ends of the peas and beans. It is more than just a Bible scripture. It is a feeling of closeness and oneness. It ties a person with another even just briefly. There is no war nor conflict just snapping the ends off of peas and peeling potatoes. It was a part of Georgina and a part of me. We shared time and space with others and such a low level and we releashed in it.
Well, it is time for me to get back to the telly. The movie Killer Bees is on. The bee woman is rather obnoxious as she does the California thing with her lips. One part was left out of the movie...can't remember why. It is the part where she captures a picnic bee to collect hormones from the female to inject into the Queen Killer Bee when the bees were in massive form in the shack. The police officer may or may not have been a real JW in real life. We won't speculate but I don't believe at that time he had a mate??? Something? Something? Something? Time to leave. Don't even bother to say goodbye California fake bee woman. Just get the hell out of there. And no Dusty. Jerry was not there.
It was rumoured that a car bearing the likeness of the one seen following behind Georgina was buried. It was rumoured that the owner and/or driver of said vehicle bearing the resemblance of the car that abducted Georgina had been buried by local residents who may or may not have been JW elders and friends. Some say that Georgina may have run away with a lover. This made no sence at all to her mother, quote, "She telephoned me from the diner and told me she was on her way home. She asked me if I needed anything. I told her to buy some butter."
Geogina never made it home. It is reported by the press that the scarf Georgina had on her head as she was walking on the sidewalks was found by two "boys" and "the scarf was folded up like a pillow."
Cindy English...that was the name of the Barrie girl whose wallet had been found in 1992 by a man walking his dog on a lonely stretch of highway. The wallet was just sitting there begging to be found. Not exactly like Jacqueline English murdered ?1966-1970? near London, near Tillsonburg. Jacqueline was also had been a waitress. Her shoes were found by a farmer who had a small pool of water on his property frequented usually by ducks.
Her body was found floating in water in a creek. JW elders found my body floating in Montreal after David and Paul banged my head against a wall and after Erin drugged me with something...nude...over a Montreal bridge that just happen to have a Kingdom Hall near the edge of the river near the bridge itself. Two young JW men and two young females were seen filming the drop but they made it to the Kingdom Hall just in time for the prayer. It is said that an elder called the local police. I could see them as I laid there on the cold ground. Fall was coming. Or maybe it was just my body that was ice cold all over. I could move my eyelids up and down. I could move my lips slightly. I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't lift myself up. I watched between fluttering eyelids as the congregation moved outside.
"Don't go near her!" advised a male JW. Not one person thought of throwing a coat over my nude body. I had to wait for the ambulance to come. I had to wait until Marion McKinnon Tricker made up a new story for the press about seeing a "woman in the dark that took something in her hand that might have been a knife and killed a man whose body she could not rightly identify as the bush was hiding where the so called might be knife was going". She hadn't actually seen a knife. It was "sort of like a knife but it was so dark" and "she couldn't actually see the woman because it was so dark but it may have been Iris."
There was no bush; no knife; no woman; no man; no murder. Marion said she "sold me so she could make money for her wedding." She needed money "to buy Brian a wedding ring." Those were her own words. The public was sending money for clothes for me to wear to court. I didn't get to see the clothes. They were distributed after my death. JW elders described it as "jumping off a bridge in an attempt to commit suicide."
One policeofficer had a question: "Where were her clothes? There were no clothes on her nor near the bridge. Not one cab driver saw her walking all the way from Jean Talon to the bridge. Not one pedestrian. Where are her clothes?"
The undercover cops outside the Jean Talon could have supplied the answers but they didn't. I mean they might not have been real cops right? Yet in court JW's legal team would say "on the night" in question (prior to the suicide attempt) "there was a police officer on every corner counting how many men went into the Jean Talon apartment to the prostitutes in that apartment building". Not one of them saw a nude girl getting on a bus or into a cab? But wait, what about Brian Tricker sitting in a car with his new friend Glen How that also was watching from across the Jean Talon apartment. Were they also counting how many men went into the apartment? Yes, they were counting how many men went into the apartment. Were all these men JW's from New York, Quebec and Ontario?
"You said that the girl you touched was Iris right?"
"Well, not exactly."
"Explain yourself."
"She had a paper bag over her head."
"What did you touch?"
"Her knee."
"For how long?"
"About a second."
"What else can you tell the court?"
"Both her hands were tied."
Another witness.
"Can you tell us anything else?"
"There was a knife pertruding from her belly button."
"How large was the handle?"
"About six inches."
They didn't have to have sex with a girl for a girl to be termed "prostitute". The word "touch" covered it.
And the reel in the closet continued to reel. It was one of the highlights of Glen How's career. It is something he can bring into Jehovah's court in the future.
"And how did you make your living?"
Now to be fair to Mr. How I should add that "he was disfellowshiped for inappropriate behaviour." And, that his first wife had been poisoned during acouple of trials and ended up going to the hospital. And, that she disappeared between 1967-1970. And, that he married a JW woman who called herself Elsie Katherine Wigle in court that fall of 1967 right? Marion explained it all to me in 1982. "We had to have a mother for you. How else could we get power of attorney? Everyone in Quebec was surprised that you didn't come to her funeral. After all, she was suppose to be your mother. We sung alot of songs at the funeral....(lowering her voice)...to drown out the cries of the babies."
"Babies?"
"Erin didn't want her to die alone in the coffin so she had us place two babies in the coffin with her. We gave them bottles and one was sucking on her toe. Don't look so shock."
"You didn't go back to get them out?"
"Well, I didn't but we thought maybe one of the brothers may have gone back to get them out."
"Where did they bury her?"
"In the burial plot you purchased when you thought you were going to die after the execution. After all, she was your mother."
People wondered over and over again why I was "speechless". They thought it was abnormal for me to hear all these confessions and to be "speechless".
I am still speechless. Mercury/poison time with a dash of Chlor and unknown substance to cause "brain death" compliments of a JW pioneer and elder's wife.
Audrey had been left alone up on the clearing made by the avalanche. Did she fall asleep or did had she been hit over the head? Red blood gave the white snow colour. There was just the wind and this eerieness. The avalanche had already pined down. I could feel this quietness behind me. It was like all the birds had left town. An extreme quietness up there over the side of the mountain. Was this Mount Helen's? I don't remember.
Rope is so easy to make and so is a bob sled and skis but I ooped for just to skis the tips of which were bent in hot water. The wind had died. Quietness....even the clouds seem to be pushed away. It was like being in a bottle with a vacuum all around me. Not for long. I went the "other way". The straight down suicide sloop where the sled doesn't actually touch the snow until one is almost at the bottom. I didn't wait for the others. Red snow was quite enough for one afternoon. They had their own cars, families and friends waiting for them after their hike back down. I am speechless that it is that easy to leave someone behind.
But that wasn't the year of the sled ride down a mountain. I had some money at one time that I had sponsered for "earthquake and volcanic movement" and they had called me with a question pertaining to Mount Helen's. It may have been and may not have been, "Mr. X fell down into the edge of the volcano and we don't know how to get him out." They were not experienced hikers nor mountain climbers. "You left a man behind?"
There was an investigation carried on about the avalanche. It seems that not all of these JW hikers arrived back down to their families. It had nothing to do with me. They may have gone two to four hours ahead of me hiking down. I went by sled. I wasn't believed so I was asked to redo how I got down the slope. I explain it. I took "the other way", the straight down way but "be careful...at the bottom of the cliff where the snow is deep you have to zig zag around the rocks and when the sled hits the ground try to put the weight down on the back of the sled and slowly place your weight on the rest of the sled. Go head first! It's the only way you can see! And watch out for the trees. You will see a clump of trees ahead of you. You don't want to go that way. You need to turn your sled, ever so carefully, to the side by leaning on it and shifting your weight so you can sort of pick the sled up for the turn."
"Why don't you want to go through the trees?"
"There is no room for stopping. It ends at a cliff."
"Remember you have less than a second to turn that sled. You can't hesitate."
Phone call: "He went over the cliff."
Question: "How do we get him out?"
Question: "He is still up there!?!"
Answer: "Yeah with a broken leg."
Conclusion" You could not have come down that slope! You are lying to us this whole time. You followed those hikers and killed them one by one didn't you?"
"Why would I kill them? I didn't even really know them."
"They left you behind."
"That is not reason enough."
Now to prove my innocence I had to go back to the mountain and start from the beginning to show how I did it so they could film it so I would have the proof that I had gone down by sled. End of story.
There was a possible nother explanation. The vacuum that I felt. The bottle feeling. The dread. The fear. "It" was coming. I didn't know "it". But "it" was coming. I didn't know it but my heart did. It is like waking up in the night and your mind is steadfast. Your heart is having an enormous panic attack. It doesn't make sence until you see the door knob turn. I said it before, "before the noise comes the quiet." Is it just a wolf thing?
Did the hikers lagging behind the others die from gas and fumes that mountains are noted for regurgitating? Well, one thing stood out. I was not there. I do not have an explanation. Maybe it was not one for all and all for one. Maybe it was everyman for himself.
I was once invited, like forty years ago to go on just a small hike. It wasn't even a mountain, I don't think. It was just hilly terrain. Nothing to write home about. And this unexpected snow occurred, quite out of season. It literally dumped like a foot or so. Well, it felt like a foot. The leader was a teacher from a local highschool I thought. The type that wears glasses, has usually a high pitch voice, reads calendars and watches pidgeons. He twisted his ankle in the descent and had been left behind. I made a shelter for him and a fire. Like there was no way I was going to carrry him. All the others went ahead (against my advise). "This isn't snow. You should see the snow storms I had to walk through to catch the bus in six o'clock in the morning...all uphill." They weren't listening. They should have made shelters and waited it out but they didn't. The husky boys took the lead. A girl came back, barely able to walk and talk. "They left me behind."
"What about the others? Were they all together."
"No. We couldn't even see the boys anymore."
There was no sence in making a larger shelter. There would not be three in the tent. One needs to know snow. It is very important to keep the heart warm. I wrapped up a woolen scarf warmed by the fire and placed it over my heart. As long as the heart is warm it will pump and not slow down. Running helps in the snow. The faster one runs the less likely the snow will hold the foot long. Did one or two of them die from hypothermia? I don't think so. They were not prepared. After all, it was just a normal day that should not have had snow. But it did.
1967 Montreal
I was given a badge. Well, a chief had a policebadge for me. After all, I taught a class of would be police women, how they should fight and it didn't start with a handshake. My notso "do you take this man as your lawful husband" but the whatdidIsay to you Carol, I said, 'if you want to be a godmother to this baby (yelled across the room) you must say I do."
"I do."
In hind sight, "But that is not a marriage ceremony."
"I thought you understood."
"I thought I was signing, "this is my godchild till sixteen year's old type thingy."
I even had my own police locker which later I was told had a sign place on which read, "do not open". Why? Did Jimmy leave me a surprise?"
1967
"Hello there."
He was very handsome...blue eyes...blond hair...flashing smile...white teeth...all the right muscles...better than Paul Newman. "I've been assigned to you."
"Assigned?"
"Yes. I am to take you back and forth to courtcases, restaurants, whatever your wish is...I am here to please."
He stood there all twenty five years about. Silence. I was thinking about Michael Tremblay. "I am not to take a no for an answer."
He was very good at the small talk as he drove. I was very good at the less hug the door and the shiver thing. He proposed to me eventually. And had dozens of photos to show that we sort of dated. His name was Christopher Foot. Most people wouldn't think twice of a name like Foot.
"Your father is....aboriginal?"
It surprised him. Why yes? His grandfather was aboriginal. Aboriginals like nouns except for Clooneys. Some of them even preferred the name "Tail". Aboriginals identify themselves by animals and swiftness, adjectives and nouns, in old day together...it was an ancient Jewish custom along with making garments as set out by Mosaic law which read, "a hindge should be placed along your hems to identify you as belonging to Jehovah, your God."
He was truly a remarkable young man. His brother was darker more like June Virginia Wigle's olive yellow skin and dark brown slightly slanted oriental eyes.
He sent an engagement ring inside flowers. Very romantic. I had to tell him personally that I could not marry him. He even had the wedding day planned all out. So did the competition, but that one placed it in the ad section...wedding to be held...". No one had consulted me.
"But so did I."
I could not accept the ring. After all, I would need to go to LA to hunt down a certain John Abke (alias man) baby husband man, January 02, 1967 man. Then, there was the Michael Tremblay man thingy with a badge in his desk thingy. Marriage is such a manoeuvering business.
It sadden me. I asked a police cadet why he was pursing me and eventually he confided, "the chief put this sign out on the bulletin board and who ever won would get two thousand dollars."
Won what? Like a bloody red sheet won?
It was disappointing. Problem is though...it could never dishearten me. I didn't want to be married. I wanted to be a missionary. I wanted to do the nun thing ever since I was a small child. It may have been after a Buckingham Palace pastor had explained all about the book of Revelations to me and the downside of being part of the Seventh World Power set to be destroyed by the Almighty God Himself as he avenges all the wrongs committed in the name of religion and power. Gulp! I was only four years old. "What if I was to marry his son? What if I was to pray everyday for forgiveness? What if I was to give back all of the stolen monies and the over the roof taxes?"
It may not have been the best plan. To a four year old with a death sentence put in placed by prophecy...it was the only answer.
1950-1953 from my lips to Hoover's ears and country kin which may or may not have included Joe Kennedy Sr and the Connallys.
"I have a message from Jehovah for all of you from His lips to your years?"
"and what is it?"
"I am going to live. I am going to go home (to Elsie Wigle) and I will be there for Christmas. And, I am going to live to be 82 years old."
Sob. Sob. "And I won't like it. I will be in a wheel chair and salavia will be running down my chin." Unless, I found someone to kill me. I brighten up. "On the other hand, you can try your best."
I didn't want to die so young, I whispered to Jehovah in prayer, "couldn't someone murder me between 65 and 82?" Who was going to be my death wish? Was it John Tail? J. E. Hoover? Everyone in that room.
"Go to sleep...go to sleep...go to sleep."
"What are you doing?"
"I am singing a lullaby" just like the psychiatrist had tried to do with me, "when you wake up you will want to kill me forty years down the road."
It wasn't the best plan. Had they televised my jail visit publicly? It leaves something to the imagination. I meant only one person.
Christopher Foot sent me an engagement ring to the Jean Talon apartment. Later that fall, his apartment had been set on fire with him in it. I had just arrived back in Montreal to pick up a cheque made out to me by the Quebec government but unfortunately for me, Glen How, had already picked it up without my consent and I've never seen it sense. Robert Kinoshita phoned where I was staying to advise me to get out of town, that they had just left Christopher Foot's apartment after David had hit him over the head several times. I go there just as Qwen and Roberta were pulling Christopher Foot out of the building the back way. They brought him to the car I was in and we took him to a safe place.
"Is that Christopher Foot over there?"
"No that is his twin brother."
"Is he also a police officer?"
"Yes...yes he is."
At least they could fish? Thus, was born after this negotiation, "Galilee among the Nations."
Jews were displaced by Jehovah as a spanking yet the Apostle Paul warns, that Jehovah's wife is merely sleeping while the nations come into Jehovah's spiritual temple in the Heavens and spiritual courtyards to build a spiritual temple to Jehovah through out the world, thus Paul said, "by this all of Israel will be saved." "Jehovah is the God of Abraham, Jospeh and Isaac", which means that when the resurrection takes place Israelites will be resurrected to Israel some Paul said, "to a resurrection of life and others to a resurrection of judgement". New scrolls will be opened and the resurrected dead will be judged according to the evidence and new laws that they may never heard of will be taught or they may simply be resurrected to serve a death sentence once more so that the victims can give closure. ???
1967 The agreement with Egypt was as follows (as kept by Queen Elizabeth) "all Egyptians were to leave Israel and the Gaza strip." Jehovah Himself forbade the war between the two kingdoms as they "took Israel in during famine". His judgement was, the Egyptians took the Hebrews as slaves, but before that reign, the other years, they had been a babysitter that had served a purpose. Israel and Egypt were not to war. It is forbidden. Syria never did own the Gaza. They lived on the other extreme side. They mighte try to claim Lebanon and other places close to them. But Syrians never were in the Gaza. We have Moabites to the West of the Jordon and we have nomads. Jehovah allowed Lot to have the land of Moab and for Israel to remember "these are your cousins". And, of course, Moab was to remember that Israel was your cousin. We have nomads who may or may not be the descendents of Jethro, grandfather to children of Moses. David and the Israel Kings paid tribute to the nomads in form of food for David said, "we must remember that the sons of Jethro lead our people Israel from Egypt to the promised land."
The Egyptians were to remove themselves from lands not owned to them in Israel and for removing from Gaza the Suez Canal was PAID OFF in France where the engineers that built it settled out of court and the monies that were asked, and the wages that were asked, and the profits that they had asked were received, but on top of that Queen Elizabeth acknowledges that a royal person TOPPED IT so there would be no complaints later that they had not asked enough for their work on the Suez Canal. And the name of that Royal walkabout was Sinead O'Connor who is not speaking with her mother for whatever reason. Queen Elizabeth was an official witness that the Egyptians were to back off and accept the Suez Canal as the legal boundary. The displaced Gentiles were PAID to leave Israel to the Jordon and monies were placed in a trustfund royally to be dispensed to the displaced people, but not exactly to them directly. Arafat was only one steward over this trustfund set up in Sweden. There were twelve stewards picked from the leaders of the Jordon, Syria, Lebanon and Moab. The Gentiles leaving Israel would be given assitance to leave, they would be given food and shelter and homes were to be built for them tout des suite...modest homes...of course. The trustfund was to help educate the younger ones so they could become physicians, lawyers, teachers as there really wasn't anything there for them even before they were asked to move. "One cannot eat sand", the stewards complained. And, a little somewhat possible Jewish girl went, "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" What a sad tale. Arafat was told that he was part Jew. "I know. I REFUSE to call myself a Jew." The word Jew was very distasteful. He told Sinead all about how his parents were murdered during the War with Iran and how he was found by his new father who was a Moslem and he was raised to be a Moslem. He is proud to be a Moslem. He forbade his own Jewish grandchildren to play openly with Jewish children on the other side of the street. Equally as interesting was this question...was the dna sample of Prime Minister Sharon actually Jewish? How shall that be answered without creating a fight? A law was added to the trust, "that it is ridiculous to expect Gentiles to work for you (Israel) but they would have to spend a week to get to the job and a week to go back to their new homes. Thus, the GAZA, purchased by a royal with her own monies has been purchased to be used as a co-op." Did they understand co-op? The Gentiles would not own the land nor would Israel. It was not to be shared. It was for Gentiles in steady employment that could prove that they had a job working for a Jew in Israel"...end of quote as explained to the Gentile stewards, to the Egyptian Stewards, to the stewards governing Israel and to Queen Elizabeth and Prince Charles and Robert Kennedy. The land was never to be sold nor inherited. It was to be placed aside for employed Gentiles who may or may not want to build a temple other than in Jerusalem. Who may call Jehovah, Allah, Yah that supplies light to the nations", as prophesied by Jehovah's prophets and by JW's who say that they serve the interest of Jehovah and would like to build a swimming pool so they can baptise converts? Silence. It sort of makes one stop doesn't it? Now, we have Arabians possibly with their toy guns, rocks and somewhat small missiles that may or may not actually be in the Gaza Strip. And we have Israel with very large tanks, larger missles, and the big bomb. Why are any of these people on Sinead's properties? Did she invite Israel there? or unemployed people from Portugal and region? Then we have Jehovah standing by with the sand code. It is HIS property after all. And, HE told Moses, "it is not to be sold for this is where I place MY feet as MY footstool." A wife is a wife...and it is questionable how much we may read into the prophets, "she is a shameless female camel running amok after her own lovers".
HE draws back, "but I love her, and I know her shame, and I know that her lovers uncovered her and rejected her, and I forgive her for all of this....because....I ....know...that she lacked experience."
"Return to me and I will return to you."
Paul said she was "asleep until Gentiles are chosen by Christ Jesus to serve in the Heavens with him as future judges of the present populations and those to be resurrected." UNTIL....thus all Israel will be saved.
Is it Jehovah's time table to put a hook in the nose of the nations and to draw them to the slaughter? Are there no more Gentiles to be chosen? Has Jesus finally picked the last of his brideclass or is he still hoovering? Timing is everything. The winds are picking and tossing the sands people...look out your doors. "Work out your salvation with fear and trembling warned Jesus" and "it is a fearful thing," added the Apostle Paul, "to fall into the a HANDS OF THE LIVING GOD".
Russia will side with Israel. Spain is pulling back and the USA might be investigating the claims of certain people that may be claiming to be Spanish royals but may in reality be not. Spanish royals are cousins to their English, Scotch and Irish cousins and the last one on the side of Tudor may have been mistaken as Germans but were in reality from Russia with or without Anastsia? Spain is backing. Ireland is content. Scotland is strong and in denial. England MUST think very carefully. Which one wants to be Jehovah's "hook" to pull the nations to Armageddon? There will be no survivors....a handful perhaps but not in the thick of the war. The USA will be targeted once more perhaps by nature. Iran doesn't want a spanking. Syrians are in doubt. What shall we do with the remainder? Shall we do as Paul said, "feed your enemies" and send them home? Wasn't the Jordons told in 1967 to "save your garbage, buy dirt, plant trees, save your leaves, make dirt and grow vegetable gardens. Why can't they do it? The Chinese did! And did they do it? Did they cover the sands with rock and gravel to tame the sands? Of course not! What shall it be LORD...sand? or virus? or bomb or volcano, earthquake, volcanic ash, or shall sand of Israel and the Gaza sink down below sea level like the city of Alexandrea. The rock idea was not that bad at all. All of the above. Prophets, "and a great earthquake occured in Israel"...you have a lava flow underground you people and you are worried about bombs?
So, let's look at this situation again? What if the Turks, Syrians, French, Portugal, Spanish, Libians, Arabians, Egyptians, Jewish Moslems, Iranians make war and they actually drive the Israelites out? What then? They take over the homes and the plazas and refrigerators? Then what? How are they better off than before? One must think of replenishment. Which shoemaker will make your shoes and which bank is going to finance you? How many countries are going to send you a refreshing drink? Don't count on Sinead. Prince Charles and his friend Erin Brocovich have written all sorts of wills to inherit from Sinead right and well, they did work to gether with Princess Margaret to take over lands placed aside in Australia for the aboriginals there right? If they didn't care what happened to the aboriginal rights in the long run...why would you expect food from their hand? Run for your lives is the best answer I can give you. And the Kennedys may or may not have become confused over the issues as to what is theirs and what mortgages belongs to Iris Alona Wigle-Cutforth? What monies are you expecting? From where? ABBA sent monies from their own pockets to UNICEF and all sorts of phoney relatives are claiming that prize after ABBA disappeared. Even Agnethea's home, which was very modest, had been taken over by Donald Trump, the Gibbs and their friends as, what was it called, "their summer home" with a phoney will that centered once again around an Iris Alona Wigle? The World Food Bank is begging for help so are physicians without borders? If people making out wills for themselves care not if a baby starves to death...why would you put yourselves at risk of losing everything...if they already showed their true colours? Cindi Lauper is Jewish. Sissel is Jewish. Alanis Morrisette is Jewish. Yet Armageddon will come. England will hold back the United Nations for now by Queen Elizabeth until all information is received and verified and double checked. It surprises me that France might consider helping you...they certainly haven't wanted you in France, at their counters in the past, nor did they want to rent you homes...am I right or wrong about this? Nothing is going to happen to severely upset this arrangement until Jehovah has HIS "hook" in place. It is in the Bible. Some will argue Biblically, that three times Jehovah disciplined the nation of Israel, with Babylon, Rome and Nazi Germany. Think of it? Three times? What does the number three mean in the Bible? Does it not the number three mean, "judgements to the Third degree?"
And shall anything be added onto this? Didn't Jehovah rebuke the ancient nations and sent the World Powers to them as well for, "turning over your brothers (cousins) to the enemy."
If Israel is to be disciplined according to prophecy, "Jehovah of ARMIES starts with Israel, then HE turns HIS attentions to the nations." And Paul warned, "if a righteous man (understanding the Mosaic law, who is kind and good, merciful and patient) as he taught to the Christian congregations, "be careful...how shall you stand?"
He looked at me in surprise like, "what do I want a penny for?"
I was thinking 1950 - 1957. He was thinking like, immediate time which may or may not have been a 1970's argument. Turning off in a huff to leave...I stopped. "And don't forget about the chocolate bar," I said to myself. "What chocolate bar?"
"Oh THE chocolate bar."
I was so angry. Jumping in my car I drove all over the place, from convenience store to convenience store, looking for a chocolate bar with a certain label on it. None of them had the chocolate bar except a shop that kept specialty bars from Europe. I bought two of them and slammed them down hard onto the surface of Mr. Douglas' desk. He fingered them. Was this a gift or something? I was thinking 1950's. He was on today's time.
I had to fill out some forms or give a written explanation about something possibly on a missing person's file or perhaps the FBI found a murdered victim assumed to be one of my alias acting names. "Don't forget the interest," I said to myself.
"Right! Don't forget the interest!"
I had to pause to figure out the interest on two 1950 bars. I left once more hotly to a banker to retrieve cash left in a box to cover the interest rate on one penny and two chocolate bars.
"Here! This is the interest!"
He brightened up. John's brightening up is almost invisible if one was to watch his eyes closely. Other than that, one might miss it. The thousands of dollars intrigued him to the point that he may or may not have written down in his file on me, "tried to bribe a federal officer."
Dusty!?! I think that it was the same chocolate bar that the mummified skeleton was holding in his hand in The Sphere. ????
And, if that was true, did Jerry manifest a chocolate bar? And, if he manifested the chocolate bar did he manifest the airplane man???
What would you do to get a date with a woman?
Not exactly the Noah's flood thing but that would be impressive would it not?
1950 - 1953
James Dunn was arrested for having in his possession the daughter of Elsie (no middle initial) Wigle. Mr. Dunn had told me that I had been adopted by him and his wife who may or may not have also adopted a son or nephew. Lawyers representing the Wigle interest, the Barrymores and possibly Connallys and even the Kennedys (as John Kennedy was my lawyer in the UK 1950 - 1953) were going to test out the right of the Dunn adoption. Were the Dunns accused of all sorts of things to make them irresponsible wicked parents...the type that should not be allowed to adopt? The Dunns refused to co-operate at first. John Howard Douglas and myself were called into testify and questions were asked like, "did you and ?Clem sleep together?"
If they could prove that my adopted brother slept with me than they could possibly prove incensual relationship, thus, I was endangered and the court could remove me. John and I had a plan to avoid confrontation in court. We decided to elope which was legal at that time. There was no law preventing children from marrying. Lawyers may or may not have been there from the Dunns and Wigles. We would not be testifying in court against one another. The judge didn't believe that we were wed and said that he could find me guilty under another law of "withholding sex from your husband". It was none of his business if we had sex and how often and if I was a virgin. Marriages differ sexually from couple to couple and even without sex they are still married legally. The judge wanted me to perform a sexual act to show that I was married to John. "I have no idea how to do that," I told my husband of about eight years old. The judge wanted evidence that we had consumated the marriage. They adjoured to the back of the courtroom. John told me to suck on his finger so I did.
I was so upset. He bought himself a chocolate bar and one for me. He had paid everything in his bank account to get a lawyer for me. I ate my chocolate bar that night and then...I ate his.
"Maybe I'll buy you another chocolate bar," he said when he realized that I had ate both chocolate bars. In court the judge asked if we slept together.
"Once we went to sleep on the couch watching the television, " I said with descretion.
Two chocolate bars plus interest.
I am in court after I gave FBI John Howard Douglas two chocolate bars, a penny or nickel or dime, and interest least he thinks about going to court for interest as Sandy Atkinson, JW circuit overseer did because I had borrowed a dime for him during a circuit assembly and I "never paid him back". "Here is your dime and here is your interest on that dime Mr. Atkinson", as said in court by Carol Maywellbelove and/or Carol Wager or whatever alias Erin Brocovich thought I should have in court for the purpose of aiding her husband to make a case for a future compensation court hearing.
I gave John Howard Douglas, my baby husband, interest. Well, they brought up that money in court to which I replied, "CONSIDER YOURSELF PAID FOR SERVICE RENDERED SIR!!!"
"What does that mean?" asked one of the prosecutors. My reply to him, "even a female john has the right sir to pay for services rendered."
John stood up and if I had been any closer I would have got that fist right into my teeth. "It was worth every penny!"
I can't argue that John was not a romantic husband once every five to ten years. I mean three to several hours...could not be disputed in court."
"We have a case of adultery against her?" a prosecutor whispered.
"How can you have a case of adultery with a wife having sex with her husband?"
The lawyers had to ponder the answer. "Which husband?" looking around suspiciously at the crowded courtroom.
I mean if Nathan Knorr had asked for my marriage certificate to Dennis Husband as signed by Nick Urslack with and elder saying that he would do a favour for Nick and file the certificate for him and according to Marion McKinnon Tricker the name was filed incorrectly with Iris Wigle marrying Nathan Knorr on December 05, 1971 then I am not married to Dennis and my marriage to John still stands...twice. If Nathan Knorr and clan made me an adulterous by not filing my marriage then I have nothing to lose by committing adultery with my first and second husband...John Howard Douglas...right?
In the meantime, while I was at the FBI filing a report on a suspicous death because it was NOT me Catherine Zita Jones is getting married and guards were placed at the door to keep out anyone not having an invitation. "It was just as well that you were not there." I was viewed as the evil step mother. What evil step mother? What father? What marriage? What family? If Catherine Zita Jones does not have a belly button then she was one of the Thorn babies that Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee were going to adopt legally before Bobby disappeared leaving Sandra to run from the police blinded by hot water and having epileptic seizures. Did I miss my own daughter's wedding? That would be a funny thing. So would taking photos of the mother being tossed out and arrested for trespassing to see her so called "step daughter" getting married. "I didn't know that she was getting married."
It didn't deeply hurt me. I probably wouldn't go anyway so people wouldn't assume that she belonged to me so she just might live longer. None of my brothers had their mother and father at their weddings. I had my mother Elsie Jeffrey Wigle. My father was not invited nor my step mother...the condition of my mother's visit. My disfellowshiped father was not wanted at the wedding and he would survive just as I survived not being at Catherines. I thought of the dead woman. "They killed a woman to bring me down to LA so that they could have me arrested for tresspassing at my daughter's wedding?"
THEY KILLED A WOMAN SO THEY COULD HAVE ME IN LA ....what type of people would kill a woman to arrange all that? Not the type that want to be resurrected.
I am in court. I had explained the money that I had given to my "husband". I went to leave or sit down or ....I turned to look back at the clock. The clock was going on to something...say twelve o'clock.
"Now?"
I had to be somewhere exactly at ?12?
I had this enormous panic attack. "I'll never make it." And I passed out. The next thing I remember is that someone, possibly Michael Douglas, had placed me in his wife's bed or mothers. Usually it was Clint Eastwood that took me home and put me to bed. And McGiver, Susie Kwan, Natalie Wood, Robert Wagner, Charleston Heston (whom June Wigle adored as the most handsome man in a crowd), Martin Sheen or kin?, ?David Reistcar? Sheriff type person, Jack Lemon (my favourite babysitter), Dusty Hoffman, George Kennedy (my favourite babysitter), but usually it was Clint Eastwood.
Then, I stopped going. I think they pretty well used up my well of sortof, almost friends, for a second, whom I called, "my one second friend." Lickity Split...as Shirley Jane Temple would have said, all gone....just like that. Get over it.
"What was the bride's name?"
I was just curious.
"Iris Cutworth."
"Iris Cutworth....???...." why am I not surprised?
"and she married?"
"Dennis Cutworth."
Why am I not surprised? Was this Dennis Cutworth related to the Green River murderer?
The bride died later, why am I surprised, and she may have been hung upsidedown in her wedding gown right? Is that what happened to Connie Stevens? I didn't think that it was Connie in this Kingdom hall marriage thingy. "They wouldn't allow any photos to be taken."
How strange? A wedding with no photos. I am less surprised than ever. Did the Green River murderer marry a look a like posing as Linda Ronsadt to gain access to Estelle Parsons copyrights? But sweetie, you spelt the name all wrong!!!
At any rate, I was investigating the murder of a woman that the FBI and LA police verified as me...Iris Alona Wigle-Cutforth. I am not dead. I am sitting at the FBI desk crossing off names, without invitation to do so, and correlating three to five lists. I may or may not have used coloured pens to place each murdered victim into the list I thought they belonged in. I stopped crossing off at the name of Linda Christensen a woman that had a small part for just several seconds in American Graffeti. I vomited. Her name ties in with the murder of a Sandra Dee nurse, I think she was a nurse, in the Sandra Dee home. The woman had been axed and someone had chased Dodie with an ax. This was the murderer that I was looking for who may have done likewise with Agnethea from ABBA who died in 1978. Agnethea number one from Eurovision who lost to me in 1970. This was Agnethea who was as close to me as my own twin who my mother, Elsie (no middle name) Wigle, had said had died or was abducted or just disappeared in her imagination. 1978...the year of when I stopped forgiving. The year of when I stopped turning the cheek. The year of where I will pay for whatever, lose whatever, to find who was responsible for Aggie's rape, mutilation and death, and for all the other deaths of actors, small and large, who died just so someone could have a wide belt of money in his billfold.
A man heads out after saying, "Merry Christmas" and he turns back, "Happy New Year."
Agents followed him to a store where he purchased a long razor blade. Agents watched as he "organized" an already contemplated crime which the Bible definitely would describe as "blasphamy against the Holy Spirit."
He is quick with the blade. Frida from ABBA lies on the floor in the Charlie Palloy studio office. Behind him he hears a click, he goes for his gun, and it is right between the eyes. Frida's body lies on a bed in the studio as friends try to keep her alive and Maryann Faithful does the song on drugs but Frida is not on drugs...she is merely in a coma waiting for her body to build up a new blood supply
It was as a Mrs. Baldwin, a teacher from Balsam Creek, Ontario, would always describe as "that Wigle smile". It was not a smile that endeared one to a person of power. George Clooney had "that Wigle smile". Some say it is a "southern smile". Not southern from Canada but Southern United States not to be confused with the United States of America. The Southern United States never did join with the rest of the United States of America "legally" or so it is said.
June 01, 2009 also gave birth to a most distrubing and distrustful fretful nightmare. It just happened this morning sometime between twighlight and sunrise. Do you want to hear about it? Of course you don't but I will tell you about it anyways.
It didn't start out at the Green River murder. I only assumed that was the setting only after I had thought about it briefly before type. The setting of my dream starts with a camera scanning the face of Tom Cruise. His expression is fixed and horrified. Who is that young woman on the stage? He glances around causiously. Members of the Writer's screen and other famous actors are laughing and giggling. The camera continues to scroll across the vast crowd that had gathered. Some may say that this is a clan meeting. Others may say this is just The Club. This is not a Zodiac meeting although there are some characteristics shared in common one may deduce. Tom is trying to think. He is trying to understand. Why would they do this? Why would anyone pour acid or gas on another actor? What had this young woman done to anyone that deserved such a fate? There are no answers to nightmares...only questions. Is it just a reality test?
What do you think Tom? Is the girl with the rose bracelet around her one hand someone close to you? Is the name of that girl Penelope Cruz? And, there they sit, all his friends, a close "family" expressionless.
"Seen one hanging...you've seen them all"....right?
Tom can't speak. He can't move. He knows that he should...but he can't. Was he the only one to feel distain and like fainting? Who were you playing with Tom? Think about it!
Was Tom Cruz one of the fishermen fishing along the banks of the Green River? Who is playing with you Tom? Who sat the table? He or she is a director Tom. Why were you fishing on the Green River? Was that Griffeth O'Neil fishing in that boat with you? Not smart Tom....not smart at all. End of nightmare.
Was it Tom that had accompanied the FBI and Estelle Parsons to the said James Dunn home? He turned around as he was speaking, "she was right there on that bed and blood was all over her face and.......".
He stopped breathing. He had turned around to look iinto the eyes of one said Renee Zeewinger. Zee was not dead at all was she Tom? He said no more. His mouth closed and he merely stood as the investigators continued the rounds. Who are you playing with Tom? You see, Tom has played with Estelle before. So had Penelope. All they had to do is ask for a part and Ryan O'Neil would say outloud to his many friends and fans, "and Iris picked up another Oscar." Why is that? Everyone knows that no one is to play with Estelle...right?
Oh, it is spelt Zeewinger not Zelwinger. Reporters, Youtube, and others may have assumed it was Zelwinger but on paper it is Zeewinger. Zee, you see, is short for the name Zeenith. Who is Zeenith? Zeenith was a being created in the zeenith spotlight not to be confused with the angel Trillium. Zeenith is just another clone among zillions of clones. Is there a Zeelionith One clone angel...followed by Zeelionith Two. I really couln't say who came after Zeenith. Maybe God, the Creator stopped at Zee. Maybe, she may be more memoriable historically speaking. Nonetheless, she has a Heavenly Owner what some humans may call a husband. Zee is like all the other angels of her class. She is not a she like in human terms. She is a she because she is in submission to a husband that a human may refer to as a male. Zee may be best described as an "it". Neither male nor female as angels do not have a human body. Thus, it was best described by Shirley Jane Temple in one of the court cases.
There is a reel shown in court where Shirley Jane Temple had been beated. It is a reel that shows a man coming into her almost lifeliess body. It is a reel that bears a year that matches the early fifties. It is a reel that shows a man running in to shove a knife into her vagina. Shirley survived and is brought into court where the judges and the jury and the many visitors amuse themselves with all sorts of thoughtlessness.
"So, how do you feel now that you have lost your virginity?"
The five year old had to think as how best to answer. She had read the book on sex. She had seen the diagrams. She thought he had shoved the knife into her rectum. Was that the virginity that these Bible scholars were referring to on that day during that inquisition?
"Well sir, the way I see it is that the loss is not worth worring about."
"Why is that?"
"I will have no use for a vagina in the Heavens."
Well said. They had to think about it. It wasn't an answer that they had anticipated.
Having started out my morning thinking about stages I had to wonder how close the nightmare was to reality. If I was to go into a theatre
"Who do you think we should pick?"
"Oh, that man...right there!" she had giggled.
The man had a name. It was Jack Palance. And, Shirley thought he had the most interesting face. His eyes were deep. He would bend his head down to avoid the scrutiny of the six year old. It was as if he was afraid she would see right into his soul. He had a friend and Jack didn't have any friends. Did someone beat him up as many times as Bobby Darin had been beaten for failing to stop at a curb before crossing?
1968
"You can't go in there right now Miss Beth."
"Why not?"
"Oh, I am in the middle of fumagating."
"Fumagating?"
"Fumagating!"
"Do we have rats Jack?"
"Ohhhhhh....you could say that."
Jack's sudden appearance at the stage door had startled Sandra. She thought that the theatre would have been empty. It was to be the perfect time for a rehersal where she would have amused herself by playing all the characters for a new play as she worked on new musical compositions.
"How did you get in here Jack?"
"Ohhhhh....I have a key of my own."
"Are you always in here?"
"Ohhhhh....I have a lot of other things that I do."
"Like?"
"I run the reels."
"Ohhh...???"
Jack runs the reels. I guess someone had to run the reels for the audience. Why not Jack? Sandra saw an opportunity of presenting the Watchtower and Awake magazines and she even made arrangements for a Bible study. His body still blocked her entrance into the theatre. He meekly directed her to his small home that he shared with a wife and several children. It seemed out of place in Hollywood. It was so remindful of Balsam Creek out in the boonies. It may have also suited the high hills. Nothing that a new paint job couldn't fix up. Thus, that week, after her first Bible study with Jack Palance she found herself in a race as she worked with a new friend by the name of Robert Porter.
"So...Bobby??? If you finish your side of the house before I finish painting my side of the house what does the winner win?"
He smiled. It was almost a Wigle smile.
It is said that the woman ran into the wind which is so-so unaboriginal! That was why they were able to follow her so deeply into the woods, off of the beaten trail where only the horseflys and mosquitos dare to fly.
It is said that once they got that deep into the woods she climbed up a tree to tie up a shoe onto a branch before taking off all of her clothes and washing her body down real good to get that chicken sweat off of her hair. It is said that after washing her clothes thoroughly she rolled them up into one ball and smothered the clean clothing down with mud. It is said that she had more mud in her hair and underarms then even the fish.
It is said that the horse went round and round. She was right there somewhere under that tree branch. Golly!?! And, every now and then Mantracker would go back into the woods searching and hoping that they would find her. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!
"Hello Johnnie! Surprised to see me?"
Not half as surprised as Ryan O'Neil...eh?
"What's her story?"
"Her husband is missing."
"What's his name?"
"Mantracker."
Opps!
Eyes of the FBI follow her every movement as younger FBI anticipate another false arrest for arriving late...even if late is several years later. Read the mortgage papers people. Read the list of who is who and where the monies come in to maintain a float for expenses as designated by a chief director...huh? Dah!
There had been a time pre-1980's where an FBI agent or "other" could do a citizen's arrest of Annie Fields under the "light skinned negro act" where any negro or African American could and would be arrested for walking on Federal properties. Perhaps that is why Annie took it upon herself to buy as many federal buildings as possible...meaning that an owner always has the right to walk on his or her own properties without giving "proper" notice. Proper is defined as FBI black, or light skinned, "must call to say they are coming in onto federal properties and they must get approval for coming to work" less they get arrested for walking on federal properties...right? Perhaps that is why in the sixties Annie took it upon herself to fund dna research with the hopes of explaining it all one day in the future if she took a mind to do so.
"Mantracker?"
Gulp!
Her head bent slightly in the "Oh that! I was going to explain THAT to you Jehovah. You see they were bent on detaining me...and well...the bush was their idea."
This small explanation bent in thoughtful prayer did not eliviate the guilt that two men may be lost in dense brush not that far from town. The thought had never occured to Annie that Mantracker could actually get lost. Nor the horse. Huh?
Something must have happened.
"I think I may have an idea where they may have been heading. Can you get me a horse?"
Well, yes at least two of Mantracker's kin that had accompanied his wife were sure they could arrange for a horse or two.
"Good! In the meantime Mrs. Mantracker and myself shall do some shopping."
I handed her a list. "I need these groceries."
My list followed the scent of the alcohol department.
"And, don't forget the salt."
With bandages in hand and whiskey in the other, we all headed out to a road in vehicles. We stopped in the middle and broke up. One vehicle would go to the north and the other to the south checking from an open car door exactly where those hoof prints had traverzed across the soft shoulder as Mantracker spotted his latest prey.
They honked first.
"I want to go."
"Sorry son. Not enough horses."
That being said we tracked the trail left openly on the ground. Mantracker could have done the same. He could have reversed the hunt back upon themselves. Something had to be wrong.
"How long was he gone?"
"All week."
Gulp! "Surely, he could fish or hunt," she added to her prayer. Time to bend the head down.
There was a peek in the ground that gave a good view of the country. It showed the top of hills. The hoofs, however, veered to the right and not to the left. My heart started to heave quickly. I felt this saddness like it was going to be too late.
"You go that way. I am going this way."
"But, the tracks go this way."
"I know."
My horse senced the peril of another animal and neighed. The other animal neiged back. My horse nodded his head. He knew his owner. He knew his soulmate. He had been looking for her.
Mantracker could barely stand. He wasn't completely down mind you...just shaky from lack of food.
"What in the world is wrong with you?"
"It's the horse."
Mantracker's horse had tripped. "He is waiting for the horse to die."
In the meantime, the horse that was being feed daily may have outlived both of them. Annie Field's searched the grounds until she spotted the bullweeds and brought back a stem to use as a tube to water feed Mantracker's horse. Both men were still snacking on the sandwiches and tarts. The ground was littered with chocolate wrappers. Where were the others? Were they bogged down somewhere?
What to do about the horse?
"Her leg is not broken. Probably just a strain and she doesn't want to lift it," I explained as I patted down her leg.
"What's that?"
"Just a vitamen," a part explanation to an injection of antibotic and steroid mixture made up by one Dr. Margaret Hamburger or so it was thought.
I bathed the leg and continued to force down the horse's throat another gallon of much needed water.
"We thought of shooting her and we just couldn't do it."
"Why not just call for a chopper?"
"We don't have phones."
"You don't have phones."
Would having a phone be like cheating?
Snap! I sat up. No one had heard the snap as the men laid snoring. It is said by aboriginals that there is this force that comes before the snap. It is the "quiet" before the storm. The "quiet" that tells you someone is in the house. The "quiet" that they are not far away. I noddged the foot of one of the men and motioned for him not to move his leg to fast. Slowly, slowly, slowly to the tree.
"Now!"
Now was the time for one of them to get up into the tree. The "quiet" had made it's way to the other side of the brush. I handed him his loaded rifle which we found out later was not loaded at all. Huh?
Both men secured up into the branches I gathered up rocks as the horses started to stamp and at least one of them tried to get up on all fours. What was he after? Then, he made his appearance. No it was not Jerry. It may have been the suiter of the fallen female bear that I had seen earlier in the week. I may or may not have still have had the odour of the bear on my skin that a good skinnydip had not taken care of in the least. Rubbing the skin and hair with the bear skin and salavia may have been a good move to keep a horse running in the opposite direction but it may not have been by brightest idea. Besides, everyone knows that even the mosquitos keep their distance from that nasty bear skin oil. Well, no male bear was going to hump this woman. Right into his balls. Poor thing. I was running out of rocks.
"And, don't come back!"
Was it Ashley Judd that the two of them had been chasing? Did Andrew Lloyd Webber claim to have lost a wife? Well, he is not exactly Bobby Darin...neither was Donald Trump even if he could pout. What to do about Ryan O'Neil? Not much without evidence. "Turn the other cheek," was running it's course. Still, without evidence and everyone turning a blind eye, well, there was not much I could do up in Canada. Was anyone feeding the poor, the blind and the homeless? It makes one wonder, doesn't it?
1948 - 1957
"It says here that you are not a good wife?"
"Why is that?"
"Because a man deserves to have a good deal at the end of the day."
Was this divorce court? Yet, neither Johnny Be Good and myself had asked for a divorce. Didn't I just buy us a home?
"Well, sir, I can cook."
"What can you make?"
"I can make blueberry pie."
I could make chicken barley soup, meat and potatoes and I could make pie. "Well, let's see you do it."
Thus, I went out and purchased the ingredients, rolled the dough, and brought in the pie. At least one of the judges admitted that, "it was the best blueberry pie that he and his wife had ever eaten."
The other judges were't totally in agreement so they asked me to bring in acouple of more pies. How hard is it to make a pie?
"Well, my wife doesn't make pies."
I wanted to tell them that all they had to do was roll out the dough, take a jar of blueberry jam, through in another teaspoon of flour, mix well, let it set and bake. It was that easy. However, it is said that a really good cook doesn't let out the secret ingredient which was in my pocket. Jehovah is the best teacher of all.
"All you have to do is just pray to Him and He will give you all the help you will ever need!"
Perhaps, they just didn't understand those judges sitting there, that we had a real marriage license and not a pretend one. Perhaps, they had assumed that we were just living together but the law was the law and the law at that time was still on the American law books throughout the contenent that children could marry legally. Why is that? Because it allowed the men to marry children and get away with raping a child under the age of eleven years old. It gave a man the right to rape his own child of less than three years old. After all, "it was the property clause", and the "ownership" clause. Just as Jerry Lee Lewis. He explained it all to little Shirley Jane Temple. Except, problem was with all this, that the certificate that Johnny owned was not "property insurance". It was not "owner of light skinned negro born in the United States from slaves prior to the Twentieth Century". It was a real marriage license between two consenting lawful people. Johnny was just really short, and well, really young. However, if the law allowed men to marry female children and babies, then the law was saying it allowed female children to marry men. Thus, if a female child could marry legally by law, then, the same held true with a male child. It was all in the books. And, from Jehovah's viewpoint, it was a marriage "made in Heaven". Shirely Jane Temple explained it all from her viewpoint.
"You're not going to Heaven, young lady."
"Why is that?"
"The positions for the 144,000 are filled up already."
Oh, Mr. Judge, you should not have said that. Now all of America knows who the judge may really be. There is only one religion that teaches that rule. And, one of them in particular should never have slammed my face down into the cement. The real Hoover was on his way.
Johnny and I played dead. Our lifeless bodies were still in the room after the several beatings as people playing the "kin" came into to look at all the gifts sent in by the public wishing us well. The Queen Mother did not know what to do. So, she just sat by the door. I crawled over to her and hid under her dress as she spread out her shawl. In the meantime, The Dutchess of York was adding up the cost of trials. At first she was quite upset over the beatings. She wanted damages. The more beatings...the angrier she had become. She wanted someone's "head." And, she meant exactly what she said. They would be extradited to England, one way or another, and she would literally have that person's "head."
"Oh, Auntie May, he isn't worth it."
How does the United States explain the hostile treatment of a Royal? Their own laws offer impunity does it not from prosecution under the "ambassador" ruling? What type of government would not yield to Royal pressure send "her home to us in Buckingham Palace?"
And, whatever became of Princess Margaret and other royals between 1914 to 1957? Did Jehovah tell the nations that they could kill off the royals from the House of Tudor? I am not sure. He picked the political babysitter. Super powers only exist because Jehovah allows for their existence. Seven powers. It is prophesied that the Eighth world power would go down with God's displeasure. He said "seven", not eight? And, who do we have trying to fill the shoes of the Seventh World Power? It makes one wonder doesn't it? Who will win this struggle? No human is a match for Jehovah. Shirley Jane Temple had a plan. Her mother, as presented by Elsie (no middle name) Jeffrey Wigle had placed her crown before Christ Jesus. So, did her mother and grandmother, expecting Jesus to make an appearance as prophesied in 1914.
"Why can't I just marry Jesus? I am most willing to go to Heaven with him," she explained to the judge.
"Well, you lost your virginity."
Shirley Jane Temple had insisted that she did not have sex with Johnny as presented by the court. Nor did the knife attack take her virginity as had been explained in court. This judge knew all about the book of Revelations and he even read it aloud in court that it said that the 144,000 were all virgins. Thus, anyone not a virgin was not permitted to be in the Heavens with him.
"Oh, your honour. That is not what he meant. He wasn't referring to a woman's viriginity. Men are part of the 144,000 and they don't have vaginas. Jesus was referring to, not just the political virginity status that one has by not being involved with politics but he is referring also, is he not, to the spiritual status. Wouldn't one lose one's spiritual viriginity if one was to deliberately sin like by stealing, raping, and murdering?"
The judges ingnored the question. They went back to the poltical thing. "YOU are involved in politics."
Shirley had to agree, "Oh, woe is me. And, there is nothing I can do about it."
Unsaid but understood in court was, "I am not going to abdicate."
Not with so many Nazi's around me to play the prince.
"We will just have to wait for Jesus," she sighed.
Now, once I had picked up the apple from off of the public street, I said, "thank you Satan!" So, I am not sure if I was re-arrested for picking up the apple or for saying thank you. I could have said, "thank you Jehovah" and some judges may have felt that was what I should have said but I didn't think that it was Jehovah exactly that was transplanting cars from here to there and blowing down federal buildings. Was I wrong?
A new arrest had been made for "picking up apples without a license". Now, would come the lawyers. Lawyers need jurors and family support from out of state especially if they happen to need monies to pay for lodging during conventions and sight seeing tours. A judge certainly would be needed. Secretaries and court reporters and typists. A janitor and a jailor. Nothing was left to chance. Even if they could get a political figure or two to arrive on time...that would look good in print...right?
Okay! With that being said, the judge decides how much money is to be paid out for the "court costs" and the "fee" for not having a license to pick up an wind blown apple from a public road by a five year old. Very costly business. Should they say a million dollars or two? Should they say enough to cover their travel expenses, fix up their roofs and buy another home or two? Then, there is the restaurant and shopping spree expense. So many things to think about...the least of which is whether they are losing their spiritual viriginity...right?
Then comes the bondsmen. If the "criminial" or the "accused" does not have enough money to pay for all of this from the sale of his or her copyrights, movies, books, homes and bank accounts, then the judge can order the court to provide a room for the woman or child to prostitute herself or himself to raise money. The fee is set by the court which may only be termed, "whatever you can afford," which may be in the pennies and dimes as the rest of the money is needed for cab fare to get to church and so on. There is, however, another way that the so-called new child prostitute can pay for the judges expenses and that is to appeal to the public with or without her permission and with or without her parent's or guardians permission. All they have to do is get a "new mommy and daddy" for her that are willing to sale the child for sex. In the process of it all an appeal is made to the public for monetary support and quite often gifts are sent to the child as others cry for "this poor pitable child" a statement made by Queen Elizabeth herself as she viewed the body of Shirley Jane Temple in a crematorium minutes before Robert Kennedy ran around to the other side to turn off the gas.
Yet, the law allows for a bondsman. That is Jerry Lee Lewis who just happens to be related to Art Linkletter. And, Jerry Lee knows all about bondsmen.
"Now, I have paid off all your fees and courtcosts. You owe me a big debt of gratitude (for picking up that apple that started it all.) However, I am going to let you out of this debt if you promise me one thing."
"What is that daddy?"
"That you never, ever, write to Bobby Darin. Nor, will you contact him.)
"I promise."
And, Bobby Darin waited and waited for my letters. He would just go to his mail box and there would be his letter and on his letter were the words as printed or written by Elsie (no middle name) Wigle, "return to sender" and "address unknown."
Is there more to this bondsman law? Oh yes, Jerry explained it. He showed it to me. In his hand were several things. One was his driver's license, another his insurance policy and birth registration and what have you but the most important credential used to buy my debt was the insurance policy. The insurance policy is the actual number recorded by the courts that would be called the certificate of "ownership". Jerry Lee Lewis could say legally that he was married just by using his insurance policy number. He vowed he would never touch me. He vowed he would give up going to Bible college and he did. As to whether he told the truth about which Bible college he had been attending is not for me to answer. No...Jerry gave the Lord up and decided right then and there after Bobby had been visiously beaten and left for dead several times without a penis...that he was never going back to church. Oh, he went occassionally to see Bobby standing with the blacks as Bobby was part Jew and part aboriginal. The way I saw it was that Bobby had the best seat in the house...or in this case...church. He never did sit with Bobby. However, there was a restaurant bar where the two of them would met to jam with Janis Joplin as a friendlier place for whites and blacks to meet as a family even if it was the most disfunctional family on this planet.
The Dutchess of York, Auntie May, died while I was held in the United States jail. Her death was called, "the death of a prostitute beaten on the street and left to die." Elizabeth took her vow as the next royal to wear the crown. And, I would go back to the UK between 1967 - 1970 to do an informal autopsy to a headless and armless woman tortured to death and place back inside the coffin of the Dutchess a note of my own.
"I won't forget Auntie May. And, I won't forgive."
How does one forget and forgive a borg that deprives children of the right to live and to prosper? The right to keep a good name. The right to one's own body and virginity? The right to give birth to a child? The right to go into one's own building to carry on business? The right to a home and a farm? The right to penis, vagina, arm, leg and eye? How does one forget and forgive when the people misrepresenting the law do it over and over again for fifty to seventy years? One doesn't. One does what Jehovah wisely concluded a long time ago.
"When you see what is standing where it ought not...then run for the mountains".
Run when you see the armies.
Run when you see that the garments of the priests have the stains of the virgins belonging to Jehovah. Run when you see the sacrifice being presented on the altars.
Run! Run! Run!
1950 - 1957
Johnny Be Good, age perhaps nine years old or less, was stabbed twice in the abdomen with a sword during the making of a movie in the United States.
"Read the contract...it says, right here, that "any actor hurt during the making of this movie agrees not to sue the studio."
"But, you did it deliberately," insisted Shirley Jane Temple wife to be of Johnny Be Good. Was she addressing, Mr. Hobbs?
Shirley Jane Temple would find herself laying naked on a street, dehydrated to an extreme extent, dusty and pale. Her beaten body would lay there almost ten days as she wasted away in the heat between a shower or two. A quarter had been placed by her hand but not by a well wisher but by a studio accountant who, as can be witnessed, gave her "the quarter" promised according to the contract. The quarter was not a twenty-five cent piece but was one quarter of the profits. However, in court it could be argued that the director really did mean only twenty-five cents while he meant seventy percent for himself and herself....right?
Whatever? Shirley was not going to fall for it. If she had picked up the quarter she would have been in agreement with this man. If she picked up the quarter for food would she have been re-arrested for panhandling? It was a concern for her. If she got up to run away would she have been arrested for vagrancy...again? So, she just laid there waiting for something but not for anyone in particular. Where would she have gone? There was no place to go...not for long. They, he, would have found another excuse for another arrest...right?
Then, one day, it was like her many prayers had been answered. A bus stopped with all the packed cars right in front of her. But, between her and the bus a taxi was letting out passengers. Earlier that day, a well wisher had not stepped over her like all the others. He had left his jacket on her naked body. Now, she could travel. Now, she could sneak into the back of the taxi. Now, she could escape back to England.
How many orphans had been used by movie makers and discarded dead or mutilated? How many homeless and needy had been asked to "stand right there" so a car coming around the corner in a chase could knock them down? How many had been blown into pieces with grenades and bombs? Thousands? And, this is legal?
Shirley Jane argued it in court.
"When an actor signs the clause that releases the studio from damages, the actor is signing for accidents caused to his body by his own stupidity or foolishness. He is not signing a contract for anyone to deliberately kill him is he?"
I did not understand these people. I watched them very carefully. These were adults like I had never met. They had been conversing with children like the children were of the same age and mental level. Is it the product of their background? Do street children just sort of bond together like, "here Susie (age 2) when we break into the bank I want you to take this gun and shoot anyone who enters"...???
Bobby Darin had that same mentality that was a concern to Jerry Lee Lewis. He knew his son had a mental problem as outlined by physicians. Bobby did not help by telling the physicians that he had witnessed Shirley Jane Temple turning into a "beautiful swan" to fly away from a fir tree that a gang of kids had set on fire. And, it did not help his situation that he was writing letters to a five year old marked, Iris Wigle, R. R. #3, Springarten Road, Ontario, Canada.
"I have a right to write my sister."
It took him all day.
And, there they sat, year after year, gathering dust. He must have carried around a lot of resentment. And, who paid the bills when Bobby got into trouble? Jerry Lee.
There were at least two other actors that could have wished to have been understudies for Bobby Darin. One was Tommy Sands. I don't remember much about Tommy. He was part aboriginal. He may or may not have been related as a cousin to Bobby Darin like several cousins down the line. He was related to Paul Anka I thought, as well as Frankie Avalon. It is said that he died. Did he? Usually, when an actor dies, the family may find a "front" for the dead actor for legal reasons like, did Frankie Avalon, take up the legal front for sending off Tommy Sand records, as asked by a music company?
I only remember one incident with Tommy Sands. He was "missing".
"Did you see him?"
We had been at the same restaurant bar on the same evening that he had gone missing. I was still in town so it may or may not have been less or more than five days. Usually, I left Canada for only a weekend or a weekend which was spaced out anywhere from once a year to five years.
"He handed me the key to the men's washroom."
I am not sure why. Was it that light skinned negros could not use the white woman's washroom? Yet, I was not negro of any kind.
The man asking about his ward stopped talking. I continued on, "I didn't need to go to the washroom and didn't know what to do with the key as I had to leave so I left it where the owner or waiter would find it....which was right next to the cash register."
Isn't that where the washroom key goes? Usually, back to the waiters?
The key was still there. The man ran to the washroom to open it up. It was one of those real old keys...a relic from the late eighteen hundreds. It was long with just a little metal jutting out at the end. It reminds one of a jail key used by guards in the old Western movies.
Was he there? I don't know. There were about a dozen people clothed up as the grime reaper dressed in black with their faces painted white. On their fingers some of them had these razor sharp metal fingernails. Others, had knives still clasped in their hands. What had happened in there is anyone's guess? Was this where Bobby Darin may have disappeared years before. I don't know. I will never know. I don't even know if Tommy Sands re-surfaced weeks later. Actors are like that, you know. Just when everyone assumes that they are dead....opps...here they come again.
It reminds me of Sharon Tate number one. Sharon did not die. She merely switched identities to become Faye Dunnaway. The last time I saw Faye I thought was at a screening of Dances with Wolves. I told her I had a terrible nightmare about her being lost in a tunnel and that she "should go straight home with her father Sean Connery and not take any chances."
The time before that was when she decided to do something like "marry a millionaire." She had dressed up as a sleazy type...a gal working in bars to present herself to the desired man. When I saw the action going on the telly I called the studio and asked them, "what in the hell is she doing?"
She wasn't going to win. The girl in red without the bra never wins Mr. Right. The other girl was younger and prettier. What was she trying to prove? Was she actually interested in Mr. Right? He, Mr. Right, did not know that the girl in red was Faye Dunnaway with black died hair but I knew. The scar on her face belonged to Sharon Tate.
"She is to win...do you understand me?"
Faye could not lose. I would not let her lose. "I don't care what the executives think. She is NOT to lose."
End of story.
The other actor considered to play Kevin Spacey as an understudy least Kevin disappeared in a fight or something equally as intreging was the actor Tom Wood. They could have even been presented as mirror twins with a little makeup...right? Sad to say, Tom Wood, according to the studios, had added his name to a growing list of discontents that did not want to work with "Estelle Parsons". No one knows why exactly. Some said that a man and woman were going around giving bad press to all the actors behind the back of Estelle. They had photos. They had news items according to the gossipers. They even seemed to have their own "Estelle Parsons look-likies and Estelle Parsons "mothers and fathers," "brothers and sisters," and "aunts and uncles", some of who were black. They actually had a black family for Estelle and a white family. Did it appear that the white family were the owners of the blacks not by dna but by step mothers and step fathers? Did they actually have an extended step family situation if the need should arise?
Last night, one of the stations had an Erin Brocovich lawyer firm ad with Erin doing the speaking. Gosh! She is starting to look more and more like Iris Wigle Cutforth or should I ask, is it Iris Wigle - Cutforth?
Oh, Erin...if these people did not want me...and I wrote scripts and songs and produced and directed and placed the monies into the floats...why would you think that they would want you?
1978
ABBA composed the song, "I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do", (Made in Sweden for Export). On a rare appearance in Europe by Frida, ABBA decided to take it outside. Someone, a manager perhaps, had decided to use saxophones and a band in the background. ABBA did not need musicians in the background. They were to be paid by the hour and that was it. Frida had concerns about using background musicians even paid by the hour. Would they come back in the future claiming to be the "real composers" over the ABBA muscial compositions?
I had concerns because I recognized one of the saxophone players from NY who often attended the Oscars. Not necessarily the man calling himself Dennis Cutworth. Was he related to the Gibbs? The Gibbs started showing up after the 1978 tour. I wonder if we were to find the saxophone players if there phone numbers would tie in with the Gibbs and Donald Trump?
"All you have to do is to have an appointment Frankie and to give your driver's license number to the security guards at the gates and they will let you in."
Sean Connery had steam coming out both ears.
"I AM SEAN CONNERY DAMNIT!!!"
"Sorry Mr. Connery. Rules are rules. We need your driver's license or birth certificate to prove that you are you."
Others had complained.
"You forced my mother out of her job."
"How is that?"
"She was a hairdresser."
(Was she on the lookout as well for a pimp? One never knows how these people find out who is where...right?)
"Did an actor request her presence?"
"No. She walks around asking them personally if they need their hair to be done."
"But, that is usually already arranged isn't it? All I can do is to place her name on a bulletin board and into the studio's charts for who is to hire. I can't just let every woman who is a hairdresser just to browse around freely for security reasons. You understand don't you?"
The same went for would be managers on the look out for a new contract. "Actors and directors have been complaining that they can't act because of all the noise in the background as people slap the backs of others to see if "an extra" is needed today. If we need an extra we will call you."
Then, there was the lunches made for the actors. Gone! Vanished into the mouths of wandering hairdressers perhaps and bit actors looking for a bit part. It was very costly.
"All I can do Frankie is to send out information to actors coming into the studio to call you if they need insurance. You're name will be the first on the list." I can't tell people who their insurance adjusters should be...right? A studio can do the car insurance thing if all the executives agree and the owner that is for sure but how many insurance agents should be allowed to roam freely on private properties when others are trying hard to concentrate. The thousands disappeared into the hundreds. And, soon, all other studios followed suit which required Sean Connery to show his driver's license or birth certificate that he was the real Sean Connery. Hopefully, I won't be hit over the head anymore.
Tommy Sands??? I had accompanied a group of men to point out the restaurant where Tommy had handed me a key to the men's washroom. Yup! It was still there. Interestingly, the front door was unlocked despite the dust and cobwebs. There had been no activity it seemed for a while. How long? I don't know. I had heard that they had a "special" and that I "should check it out."
I really hadn't had time for lunch nor for a sip of arsenic or morphine anywhere else. I just had wanted to run in and grab something quick. Usually when I came into town I had only enough time to do two to four movies back to back within three to seven days given a school schedule. And, in between, other directors would grab me for a cameo appearance which required less than a half an hour. If they could catch me for just even a five minute conversation, they would run their movie over to the studios to show them that Estelle Parsons was in it and would they invest some of her money? ]
I had been writing a script when Tommy stopped by the table to offer me the key.
I surveyed it as it sat on the table. It was Marnie time and she already had the suitcase packed. That was it! No supper. No drink. No snack. I placed the key right next to the cash register as someone else had waited to make a payment for whatever. Now, it too, had collected some dust. The cash drawer had been left open which was normal when closing down for the night. Had it been an Easter weekend...closed from Friday noon to Tuesday? Unless, it was a Jewish owner who might have decided to close for a week or two. Do they take a leave to go to Jerusalem for a month as the Passover runs for thirty days; from new moon to new moon; from good partakers to the sinner partakers?
"Do you think someone robbed the place?"
Judging from the cadaver on the floor behind the counter...it was a possibility wasn't it? The door was opened to the men's john. It was dark inside....very dark. The electricity had been turned off perhaps from lack of payment. It was very quiet. I wasn't going in to investigate.
"I would suggest you remove the door first from the hindges before you go inside."
"Why?"
"I don't know. I just don't trust keys and doors."
I could see the forms as the flashlights waved about. One man clutched his chest. A nail gun rested against the floor. Were they all men? Were some of the women? I don't know. I am a Canadian. Let the man do his thing. Was this room which had been explained as the "washroom" just a corridor into a larger theatre? I don't know. I wasn't going in. I had other work that I couldn't be sidetracked to finish up myself. Why wasn't the front door locked and bolted? Was it locked up electronically blocking all exits? Where were all the exits? Where were all the windows for fresh air? I thought about Dolly Parton number one. I thought about the rumours of her breasts being sliced off "because they thought she had silocone inside them."
They, were the boys that like to play in the dark. Was it rumoured that two of Johnny Cash's boys had been involved and he hung them high in his barn? Were they buried in the same clothing as the night that Dolly had her finger's cut off and her vagina ripped apart? Was the blood of Dolly Parton on the floor inside that "men's washroom?"
"Ohhhhhhh, that's not a smart thing to do. Dolly had a lot of friends and family and well, not necessarily KKK entanglement...right? Not that the KKK have never come into town. They did once...outside the theatre on horses.
"What are you doing here Eddy?" I had asked as I observed smoke coming out of the ventillation.
"Just waiting for them to come out."
I couldn't blame him. After all, someone inside there had hung two of his boys in plastic up in the rafters along with several other famous actors. They had escaped and one of his sons were still missing. Eddy who? I don't know. He just sounded like an Eddy but if you see one hood you see them all...right?
It is like there is this rule in California which reads like, "no one will ever miss them."
How do they know that no one will ever miss that actress? Do they even know if they are a mommy or daddy? What happens if mommy doesn't come back to her baby? Does anyone even care? It is all about money and prosperity. It is like the same old record is being played over and over again.
"Why didn't you call me? Why do you always call her? That script was meant for me."
"Oh sweetie....don't even go down that road. You want a script...write your own. You want a movie...bring in your own monies and buy your own camera."
And, they wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait. Tom Cruise is sitting on at the wrong table, isn't he? Well, good luck in finding a script writer and an investor Tom. You can always use your own money and buy your own cameras.
Did John Douglas make another note in his little black book which simply reads, "armed and dangerous?"
Why? I am not allowed to carry a gun? Oh, sweetie. Nixon gave me the right to do so along time ago. Yet, there it is, over and over again and it comes up when the Renee Zeewinger movie is made, "New In Town".
"Do you have the rifle?"
She shows the actors her rifle and the bullets are in her pocket. The script calls for her to take the rifle back into the woods to do the potty thing. She trips. The rifle was said to go off. This is a movie...right? But, it is on the real news. And, the Johnnies all write in their little black books, "armed and dangerous."
It occured to me this morning though, what if a judge and judges said in many court cases where phoney Iris Wigle's and Estelle Parsons were perhaps being investigated, "you are not allowed to carry a gun for your part in the Charlie Manson gang" or whatever, "for the rest of your life."
I didn't even know that I was a suspect in anything. Yet, I would hear the whisper as I checked on "my building", "what is she doing in here"?
I did not know that I was a suspect. And, it is so easy to be a suspect, isn't it? I mean there was the car parked in front of the fire hydrant for court purposes.
"But, your Honer, that hydrant was
"What in the hell is that smell?"
"Smells like shit?"
"Or maybe she fell into an outhouse or something?"
"Maybe someone through her into the sewer...well...it happened once before didn't it?"
No. That is just bear grease natures answer to mosquitos.
She kept them amused for hours as they contemplated what some FBI men or may not have noted in their little black books under "another failed suicide attempt."
Huh?
"What was Goldie Hawn doing on top of that skyscrapper?"
"I was singing to Bobby. And, the name is Leann Rimes!"
It wasn't as if I was actually going to jump. I just wanted to get real close to Jehovah and that seemed as high as I could get. Why would I jump? I always survived although I had someone push me once and I landed on the flag. It is just a handy phrase, "reason for death"...let's put down "suicide."
And, out of being shot at Dana Winner came up with the song, "Put on your White Sombreo" for ABBA and keep right on walking as musicians and the conductor tried to stop the bleeding from four gun shot wounds compliment of an FBI messenger.
"Oh, my daddy saw what you did and His name is Jehovah!"
Jehovah is described at best as "a Man of War."
He has this, "not yet...not yet...not yet theme that carries for three hundred years or so and then it is..."NOW!!!"
Yeah...well...Joseph and Jacob are dead already as if they waited that long. I guess I am not as important as Moses and Abraham and I remind Jehovah of that nightly.
"I know why you allowed 1967 to happen. I am a woman and I am not a man."
End of story...get over it!
I have noticed though that Jehovah, as a Man of War, knows the best time for delivery. It is eye for eye and it is dollar for dollar and it is spotlight for spotlight, fall for fall. This is what she had. This is what you took. This is what you now don't have. It is all weighed very carefully. Myself, I just want to wait for that Biblical belief, that clause that reads, "from this point in time there will be no resurrection for the ungodly."
You see, up to a certain point, everyone gets resurrected. Arabs, Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Athiests are all resurrected into the future. However, their death has to be before "THE JUDGEMENT" hour because once Jehovah takes His seat to judge it is too late...it is no more resurrection. It is flood. It is pestilence. It is as described in Matthew 24, time of dark clouds, often described as Jehovah bending his knee down.
Shirely Jane Temple tried to explain it to Bible Thumpers in court a long time ago after a courthouse disappeared.
"That was just one of His nostrils."
I use to feel sorry for everyone. Maybe if they had better schooling or better lunches or a job even, then possibly, people would want to hear about Jehovah. Nothing seems to work for some people.
"Which restaurant did you see Tommy Sands in?"
I took them there. Not much to see at the tables in themselves except, "isn't that your sweater?"
Yes, it was my sweater and my purse still sitting there at the table gathering dust with everything else. They seemed so out of place. But, that was where I had left them. If something or someone frightened me, I would often just leave everything behind taking only my identification with me and some money. It wasn't as if I was going very far...just to the bathroom...somewhere...if I can find one that allows light skinned whites to enter.
The bathroom key may not have been on the counter where I had placed it next to the cash register. It may have been on a hook or perhaps an FBI agent placed it back onto a hook when we had visited the bar this time and maybe not. I wasn't really watching that closely. I was thinking about Bobby Darin. The last time we had danced was in a restaurant bar. Was this the same bar? I can't remember. We had gone our separate ways after someone had used an ax on my head leaving deep scars in the process. Bobby had said it was not him. Life is so confusing when one tries to relive the past. Was it Bobby? Did I dance with Bobby? The last time he was seen by anyone was "when he left for a six thirty appointment."
I had been present in the operating room for his heart transplant. He had warned me not to come back to LA and the USA but I did so because I didn't want him to die alone. I have vague dreams about Sinead O'Connor finding "her brother" in a field with the FBI after they had called me. And, then they are gone. Sinead does a small tour of Ireland devastated. It is just a thread of a memory and I can't even prove that it actually happened one way or the other.
"Do you really want me to write a story Jerry Lee about the real Bobby Darin?"
Nope! He would have to endure the lie about the Mafia family. Did I forget that I hid him up in Canada? I love happy endings. Maybe that was the real ending but I doubt it.
"Hey! Look at this!"
An FBI man had pulled a Grimereaper drape off of a dead cadaver. He was wearing a metal gadget on his penis. He couldn't get it off. I don't know why we assumed that but we did. He was not the only one wearing it. Why would someone find joy in tearing apart a vagina? Why would anyone want to belong to a Club that sported such activies? Did any of these men go into the Portuguese nun wearing such contramptions? It is really bad Karma, isn't it?
Did they think that Jehovah wouldn't notice that someone was playing with His "ten percent" as outlined in the Mosaic law? The virgins serving in the Holy Temple that were of the Gentiles were described as Jehovah's "ten" percent.
"One out of every ten shall belong to Jehovah."
But that is old school. Tell it to Jehovah. Explain it to Him. There is no "fear and there is no trembling" of Jehovah.
I wonder if the year was 1998 perhaps? Alanis Morrisette went for a rehearsal that didn't end well as the glass structure had collapsed spilling out hot water on to hundreds of uninivited actors that had gathered only to listen to that one song at the rehearsal. A new composed song done on the spot to prove her worth as a composer. They had expected her to do Kate Bush but I wasn't in the Kate Bush mood. Alanis left for South America to sing and jump around rather than to go to a hospital for her burns and I returned a week later. On another trip, I had a bit part with Demi Moore and left and returned to give the Passover meal to a retarded mongoloid on the second Passover as he had murdered, or so it was said, his parents who had been brother and sister. I had explained the Bible to him that his condition had not been caused by a so called intermarriage. It had to do with the developing of the sperm not the embryo. Partial truth. The sperm is made with the male dna from all family lines. The sperm is sent over to the vagina and into the womb. The womb is equipped with all that is needed to finish the process. It is here that rna's work with others to reshape the format. They may add on an inch or two or take away. They may decide on blue eyes instead of the brown format sent over. They may decide that they want the picture of Aunt Jemima from two hundred years ago instead of the paternal or mathernal grandparents. It is here that the skin colour may be rejected or accepted. How is it all determined? If the rna's are a rest, the sperm may be accepted as is, or they may have concentrated on one sperm more than the others and one sperm with a high degree of polish and blood supply slips by unnoticed. Unchecked, he meets with the female's army of hormone suppliers who may have a somewhat deminish blood supply. Thus, if they do not have enough blood to add to the stew, then the male's family line, may very well over rule the female's army of scientists. Of course, this is just my viewpoint. Is it possible that the all sperm are mongoloids pre womb time? And, if something goes wrong and there is no blood at all in the female cell then it could spell disaster such as a mongoloid. The rns belive that they have turned out a rather perfect human according to the game plan. Even, twisted co-joined twins may be the result of PERFECT dna reading by those little scientists. It was the map that was all messed up but they don't understand. Did this mongoloid understand?
"I want to go to Heaven."
"Why?"
"I think I will be a good judge. I can change."
Can anyone forbid him from taking of the emblems? Of course not. I explained that he may never be allowed to take of the emblems on Passover night because of his sin. And, it was a serious sin. It was deliberate sin. He may have to content himself with reading the scriptures and setting the bread and wine by himself on the second Passover for those that don't measure up to the first Passover. Jesus will decide one way or the other. Jesus will decide who is resurrected and who won't be resurrected. I just pray for him to place a thousand years between me and others with vicious personalities.
Did you watch the movie, "Sullivan's Travels."
1941? I am not sure. Sometimes when doing a movie one must be careful when it comes to copyrights. I owned the copyright and wanted to do, Brother How Art Thou, with George Clooney. Joel McCrea was not the owner of the studio but he was only one person that I had asked to run things for me.
Veronica Lake??? Wasn't she beaten up in the fifties? Something? I did the movie, Bunny Lake is Missing. Wrote the story. And, I knew that I should not have used the name Bunny Lake. Bunny Lake name goes back to the fifties doesn't it?
"Bunny Lake!?! Well, you had better be quiet or we just might have to throw you into Bunny Lake."
It doesn't take much to arouse curiosity in a small child and extreme fear. I always wanted to know though, "was there a Bunny Lake?" Not the child, but a lake called Bunny Lake where directors and their many friends throw small children into if they had wanted to get rid of them. Did I make a few enemies in the sixties by bringing the name of Bunny Lake back up to the surface? I wasn't going to forget and here I am...after all these years...and all these head beatings...and I forgot all about Bunny Lake. That is all I remember and Veronica Lake. She became a recluse you know. Very reclusive. I remember talking to her in the sixties. She was afraid to leave her room just like Rosemary Kennedy. They would just sit. I would visit Rosemary and have tea with her and ask if she had everything that she needed and security. I didn't want anyone to hurt Rosemary.
Veronica did her care a little differently. She married a very young man. I met him. And, silly me, I had asked him, "how is your mother?"
Answer, "she is my wife."
I liked Veronica. I know what it is like to be picked on. I know what it is like to be viciously attacked. I understood the fear. And, I enjoyed playing her, with her permission but Sinead did not ask. I don't know why?
I don't think that Mantracker actually recognized Annie Fields as Ashley Judd or was that Meredith Baxter, number one???
It just didn't occur to me that he didn't know who I was when I arrived on horse to see if they were still alive.
"He is waiting for his horse to die."
Right! Thus, I gave the horse gallons of water with a good dose of vodka, whiskey and whatever was left in the bottles. I only heard through the grapevine that Mantracker had gone back over and over the lands looking for perhaps the dead cadaver of a missing Ashley Judd?
"Where is he?"
"In jail."
"Why?"
"Apparently, some one thought that he was responsible for your death."
Huh?
Yet, there were more serious issues to this package. It appeared that Mantracker lost his farm, horses, barns and whatever in the process. I hate to ask this question but is there a "Kingdom Hall on the properties?"
Was there a Kingdom Hall on the Elvis properties or next door to Graceland???
Is there a Kingdom Hall on Janis Joplin's, Jim Morrison"s, house that Andy Williams thought belonged to him and his lookalike wife going by the name of Claudine Longet? Is there a Kingdom Hall on the old J. E. Hoover home? I don't get it. Why doesn't a JW elder give up his residence to make a Kingdom Hall? Well, they probably don't have bank accounts, do they?
I was walking along this morning, enjoying the sunshine, and I foundmyself walking the Sandra Bullock walk. She sort of throws her shoulders into the walk...first the right shoulder...then the left. Is there a Kingdom Hall on the Sandra Bullock properties? Be nice. I know that she lied about Estelle Parsons so "completely"...but I try to concentrate on her back injuries received by a brutal beating of an ax the day I was at Cher's installing security into the house.
Lucy imgined the scars on her back to be from a brutal beating with a belt. She could "remember" it and the offender was Estelle Parsons.
"Oh sweetie! You were only three months old when a blond hair woman with blue eyes accompanied by two Japanese and a strawberry blond and mega boyfriends and husbands stormed a Hollywood nursery used by more than one mother to beat up those small little infants.
"But, I remember it."
She may have remembered another beating in Michigan where her babysitters or foster parents were left dead but it was NOT Estelle Parsons. She may have remembered staying with Edith Kennedy and clan but it was not Estelle Parsons and she may have remembered living with Billy Graham the Evanglist himself but it was not Estelle Parsons. Lucy never did live with me although I had considered adopting several premies whose mosthers had been murdered one by one, shot along with Jane Mixer. One or two in the UK and two to four surrogates in Michigan, LA and other US states. Natalie Wood knew the names of the surrogates as well as the names of the many mother's using the nursery while they were in route to act in a movie or a play.
I found that lawmen, whether LA, NY police officers or agents, were really not looking for the truth. They already decided the outcomes of the trials before the arrests were even made right? I just didn't expect it. I didn't expect for the lawyers, judges, jurors, witnesses, police, CIA and FBI to already be in place before the murders or stealings or crimes had actually taken place. And, don't forget the reporters who would report the outcome of a trial Friday afternoon to make the newspaper deadline before the arrest and trial and taken place.
Jesus knows!
Jesus knows!
Jesus knows!
And, they won't be resurrected because "happy and HOLY is anyone taking part in the first resurrection", (book of Revelations).
I need to go for a walk. I need the bush. I need to block out the memories. I need to warn young women, "don't leave home! Don't become a missionary! Don't go to Montreal to pioneer! Stay safe!"
I need to go and touch a tree.
In the meantime, Frank Sinatra could be seen up where it was still some light speaking with Frank Roncorelli who he owed a lot of monies to apparently. Everyone knows that Frank Sinatra was addicted to gambling. Frank Sinatra handed Frank Roncoreilli some custom jewellry of mine. I never wore the real diamonds to the Oscars. He had asked me for my necklace and earrings and I had given them to him not understanding that he needed them to pay off Frank Roncorelli.
The custom jewels were handed to Roncorelli and they were only in his hand for less than a moment before throwing them across the theatre. They all left and some where in the balcony sat Onassis waiting to see, like us, what was going to happen next. Not much! I told Jimmy to move "his ass" so I could shove one of my shoes into the seat. We left together but not before I shot the shoe out of the seat which caused quite a noise.
I liked Jimmy. He was a very earthly type person. Was he aboriginal Italian? He was not a well learned man but if I had to chose between going home with Jimmy or either of the Franks it would have been Jimmy. Jimmy didn't touch what did not belong to him. He may or may not have thought about touching but he didn't. Jimmy had found me unconscious from head injuries acouple of times. One was once from a being attacked with a sledgehammer. He was coming up the walk to my NY apartment and whack! He heard my screams. The young man was in the middle of going for a second whack when Jimmy broke in.
"Don't kill him Jimmy. He is not worth it."
I didn't want Jimmy Hoffa to be guilty of murdering a sledge weilding would be murderer. He carried me out to a hospital and against the surgeon's advise took me home to Windsor, Ontario, Canada by car and bodyguards. I don't remember much about Jimmy. Oh well, there was the Crawford Avenue (Windsor, Ontario) scene. Jimmy drove all night. I was dropped off at the Windsor tunnel only to be picked up by Frank Roncorelli, Robbi Roncoreilli and Alfonso, his cousin or step brother. Jimmy followed Frank to the Crawford address. He went with a body guard up on to the top of the CKLW tv station's roof with a rifle as the Crawford Elsie Wigle apartment was right across the street from CKLW.
Alphonso walked me to the door. I thanked him but I was afraid for a few seconds. His one arm went down into his coat and for a second I thought by the movement that he had a knife or a gun. Someone across the street must have thought the same because Alphonso was shot in the back right or the arm. The three of them had been conversing in Italian and the only one who may have understood what was being said would have been perhaps Hoffa or the bodyguards.
For a while, Alphonso would go around the Kingdom Halls in Montreal complaining about a "bee sting" that had necessitated a trip to a hospital. And, he had complained that, "Iris", had not done anything at all to help him. No, I closed the door. I thought that the sound of the shot had come from Robbi Roncoreilli and not the roof top. The Windsor police had been informed that two men were seen on the roof and gun shots were heard but they never did find out who they were.
The last time that I think that I saw Jimmy Hoffa was in a USA hospital. I am not sure where. He had taken up a home along the ocean. I can remember him either phoning me or telling me in route between this and that..."you should buy the house next to me...so I can keep an eye on you...give you some protection."
I wanted to be a pioneer...a missionary and spread the word of God everywhere. Sitting by the ocean getting tans just didn't fit into the schedule. I was called to the hosptial by the Hoffas. Someone had broken into this ocean side home and set his wife on fire. I begged Jimmy to let me "operate on her. I can do this Jimmy. I can keep her alive. I can fix her face."
He just held me really close in his arms as I sobbed hysterically and said, "let her go."
It was his decision. She was so badly burned. She had no hair left and her face had melted along with the wounds. She was in so much pain. She died before the hour. It may or may not have been Jimmy that told me about this little girl in the back of one of the attacker's car. Was she the only survivor from the Jimmy Hoffa home? I am not sure. The bodyguards killed the assailants and grabbed the child. Who told me about the child? I am not sure if it was Jimmy. But, the car and the child were outside the home of Jimmy Hoffa in the USA. It seems so strange that Sandra Bullock should walk like one of the Hoffa's doesn't it? Such a small detail which makes me wonder if maybe she wasn't one of the surrogate babies nor a Sherly Thorn surrogate baby?
It makes me wonder if I was to go back to the Jimmy Hoffa Michigan home would I find a Kingdom Hall built on the site. Someone else had met Jimmy in Montreal 1967 as Jimmy had come to one of my trials and they had talked about wanting to be a union leader and felt like they could do a better job than Jimmy. The young man was not a Canadian and not necessarily a Bethel brother and may or may not have been running with a blond in a pokadot dress....right? It staggers the brain how much the heart wants to have a home. But to kill for one? To kill for a job? For diamonds?
The only other memory of Jimmy was that of one of his sons or younger brothers. He had been found guilty of manslaughter. I drove all night to try to stop the execution by electricity. I was too late.
"I am here for the body."
And, yes, I took the Hoffa body of the son or brother.
"Hey! It's okay. I can fix the face."
It's too late probably to do the dna saving sample thing. Now I am curious about Sandra and where she had really come from, like forty years too late.
Jimmy was not in jail in 1967 because he had been present in LA at a theater called in by the Screenwriter's guild as they had desired to form a union within the movie industry. He had been arrested, without bail, and had been sitting inside a jail. Was it San Quentin or in NY?
Estelle Parsons made some phone calls to find out exactly which jail he was sitting in and possibly made bail and arrangements in court for him to be released. The charges were never fully laid against Mr. Hoffa I presumed. However, one should note that the newspaper reporters carried articles about Mr. Hoffa and his so called life of crime. Jimmy was not an accountant. Why would Jimmy have been involved in accounting or moving monies from the union bank accounts without going through the proper channels? Isn't the Union suppose to pay for bail? Mr. Hoffa fought literally very hard for his union workers. He suffered a small stroke if there is any such thing as a stroke. Everyone knows that Jimmy was for the working man...yet...how many of these working people came to help Jimmy when Jimmy was in trouble? How many of them made telephone calls to lawyers? How many of them put monies out for bail?
I don't remember a lot of meetings with Mr. Hoffa. I remember only a handful of rides between the US and Canada through the borders. I remember that he took me to his home in Michigan, which may have been one of several homes, that he used to work out contracts for the unions on a forty-eight hour basis, with little or no pay. Why would he do that? Because a self taught professional needs a job no matter who he is...right? And, a man with aboriginal dna, no matter how tough and no matter how strong, and no matter how white....takes what he can get...right?
Jimmy was looking for me because he had wanted to work out this Hollywood movie union thingy. He heard my screams and his bodyguards held down a sledge hammer attacker. Mr. Hoffa took me to a USA hospital, paid the bill, and left with me despite the fact that the hospital and surgeons wanted me to stay.
"Don't leave me here Jimmy!!
I don't remember sitting on his lap all the way back to Michigan sleeping in a semi conscious condition. At the Michigan home, with no females present, he called someone on the telephone. He may or may not have telephoned the wrong people as a home invasion occurred which necessitated one of his kin posing as body guards pushing me out of a bedroom window. There was a shadow of something under the Hoffa car that had not been there before which ended up being a bomb. Thus, I paid a neighbour for the use of his car and left inside the car on a trial run to see if I wanted to actually purchase it. The investigative fee to see if the car was fit for me to drive in was four times the cost of this car which was left behind at the USA Detroit border along with a cheque. Unfortunately or fortunately, Mr. Frank Roncoreilli who had been following the cars decided that the cheque was really "over the top".
Alphonso was shot on the steps of the Crawford address. His version was that he merely lifted the gun in his pocket to show that he was prepared to defend me. His version was that a bee landed on his pocket and bit him hard enough so that he shot himself. How many people buy that? What? His gun was upsidedown in his pocket so that he ended up shooting himself in the arm? Well, that was the story he gave to some Jehovah's witnesses in Montreal.
Personally, I didn't think that he shot himself. I thought it had been Robi as the sound seemed so close. Would Frank Roncorelli had shot Alphonso if he thought the boy had been hired by someone else? How rich would Mr. Roncorelli had become if I were to expire suddenly without disclosure? And, one of his grandaughter's is named Iris Roncorelli? Very suspicious indeed!
Mr. Roncorelli had holdings in the USA that involved gaming machines. I thought he meant like pinball machines. He did own a lot of pinball machines in LA, right Robbi? Would knowledge of his pin ball machines have been cause for my expiration? Or, his involvement with Sinatra or Onassis? Frank Sinatra, who suffered from some form of paranoia, assumed that I had favoured Frank Roncorelli over him, but I didn't. I didn't favour anyone. I just wanted to be a nice person and be like a nun, and turn my cheek, over and over, and over and over, and over and over, and over and over...to the seventh degree. Many people, especially the Christian kind, think that turning the cheek is a forever type of thing. Even Jehovah Himself, does not turn the cheek forever. It stops at the seventh degree. It stops when the Holy Spirit no longer allows one to offer up prayer for forgiveness of the sins of others. It stops at blasphemy accrued over a period of time. Eventually, I would step back from both Franks. Eventually, I would step back from Jimmy Hoffa because he kissed me while driving back to Michigan. Call it what you will? Call it brotherly affection? Fatherly affection? Whatever? Close enough Jimmy. One wife too many? A lot of people didn't know that Jimmy had two wives...right? The timing was all wrong. I wanted to be a nun and well, there was the New Year's Eve hubby, January 02, 1967, who may or may not have still had a 1950's marriage certificate...right?
It wasn't Jimmy Hoffa that called me. It was wife number two or was it number three?
I see only in a dark blur the figure of a man that held me back from helping Jimmy's wife. Was it Jimmy? Or was it FBI man John Douglas? He was there...wasn't he? Well, where was Jimmy? I don't know. I don't know where Jimmy was at all. It had taken a week to receive the call from a hospital where a woman laid in the burn ward. The woman had wanted "to warn me" about someone who had been looking for "something" or "someone". She could no longer speak.
"I can help her."
Someone wrapped his arms around me and wouldn't let go. There were dead bodies in the Hoffa beach house. Was there a cellar? Was there a man's body in the cellar?
Had he been shot over and over again? I don't know. This may have been just a dream created by the distress? Was the only survivor a small female child in the back seat of the assassins? I don't know.
"But, she is not mine!!!"
Jimmy Hoffa did not adopt one of the Sheryl Thorn babies. Thus, he did not receive monies for child support. He did not receive monies for the Union. He did not receive monies from Estelle Parsons. How did they find him? Possibly from following him from the Michigan home in Detroit? That would take a lot of patience...unless the union created a situation that necessitated the presence of union members like Jimmy Hoffa. Out of curiosity, he may or may not have ventured up North to check out the situation if he had kin working in the car industry or a buddy or two...right?
Did Jimmy ever have anyone phone the Crawford, Elsie Wigle, home? I don't know. I, personally, didn't have a phone number not until after December 05, 1971, when I married to become Mr. Dennis Cutforth. I could be reached only at the June Wigle, Elsie Wigle, and Rayburn Smith phone numbers.
The Crawford apartment building was torn down between 1968 and 1969. I was already living with the Rayburn Smith family in fall of 1968 near Blenheim, Ontario, and no one ever called me there to my knowledge. I inherited old clothes from the early 1930's and left for a weekend to go to LA to write the script, "Places in the Heart" which would make the making of the movie between 1968 and spring of 1969. It was shot all within a three day span period.
I don't know where all these babies are coming from to the Hollywood studios. One person said that they found "a baby by the roadside." How does one find a baby beside the roadside? It makes one wonder if they were related by marriage or religion, doesn't it? I did place several children, under the FBI witness protection program, with several baby sitters, before being shot in the head. Their parents were murdered and the social services and FBI were unable to find kin. One child, however, was said to be recognized as his kin, when one of the Kim Bassinger movies had been made with a male child playing the abducted child of Kims. His surrogate foster father was not the paternal father but he had been paid by Estelle Parsons personally to take care of the child's needs even if it meant placing him into a private school as so many of the rich do. Is that bad parenting? Who had been the real father of the child? Was he a school teacher? A chemist? A lab technician that may or may not have worked with Dr. Margaret Hamburger? I don't know. Jennifer Lopez shows up at a studio as a young adult claiming to be related to someone there because as her grandmother died she had said to Jennifer, "go see Estelle Parsons".
She did not say, Estelle Parsons is your maternal mother. She said, "go to the studio."
Jimmy was not a foster parent nor did he want to be one.
Someone else had been following the Jimmy Hoffa car that weekend of the sledge hammer attack. She was a Candy Clarke lookalike or Candy Clark lookalike and she became Candy Clark by adding or taking away the e, which is perfectly legal I've been told. What does that mean? Does it mean that her phone numbers linked to Frank Roncorelli or Erin Brocovich? I saw her sitting in a car as the Hoffa bodyguard boasted me up into a tree before going back into the Hoffa home. I heard more gun shots...then men were running. I found my own way home paying for the use of the car with a large cash payout and a final cheque left inside the car at the Detroit tunnel where I had planned to take the Detroit/Windsor bus back to Canada. And, there they were the Roncorelli's...just like that!?!
I wonder where the bodies from the beach home were buried. They were buried right? The burnt out home just wasn't plowed over. How sad! And, they worked so hard for one another. Part of me wonders if Jimmy Hoffa was alive today would he have approved of all the union benifits being demanded by the car unions? What do they make now? Is it twenty dollars an hour to put screws in a car or is it fifty dollars an hour?
I had placed monies into the Ford car industry when it faced collapsing for lack of monies. My money would be the float. One cannot buy car materials without a float so why are they saying that they have no monies? How can the Ford union touch monies from a float placed in their, not by the Ford industry, but by an investor? I pushed my car holdings by investing into the Yugo industry to get the men back in Ugoslavia and hopefully Europe back on their feet? It was a small start. Then came that nasty war which necessitated a move and the other owners wanted to move the Yogo industry to Germany. I hung out as Germany was not in as great a need as Ugoslavia...right? I purchased more of the car industry and paid cash for Brian Mulroney to watch me sign the purchase.
Brian Mulroney was telephoned in the last couple of weeks of the Prime Minister thing. I had sent him monies as a retainer the last week. The retainer would cover all "present and future" costs for employing him as a lawyer, "without explanation to the public".
Why would anyone think that even a Prime Minister can not look for work when he is out of work? Everyone is entitled to seek employment within the "two week notice" thing. It is LEGAL to look for a job during the two week notice prior to the two weeks before leaving the last job. Is it only reporterss that change the law and for what? Is it to write a book? Is it to run up a fourteen million dollar cost in legal fees? How did the investigation of Brian Mulroney run up into fourteen million dollars? Break it down people so I can understand how an hourly rate equals fourteen million dollars? Was someone going to sue Mulroney as part of the plan? Well, first prove that cash money given to Mulroney belongs to you sir and came from your bank...right? And, please, if you are wise, don't say you are my brother, my father, my mother, my sister, and definately...not my child!!!
Brian Mulroney had been chosen to watch and scrutenizing of the German Car deal because he had witnessed me reading the new Canadian Constitution as did all the other politicians in the Canadian Field including all the ex Prime Ministers still alive up to that date and not excluding Queen Elizabeth who had not been given a draft of the bill prior to her signing.
"This is an illegal bill," I had told all of the politicians that day.
"Why is that?"
"Because you did not ask the people?"
And, they did not ask Canadians if it was allright with everyone that Quebec separated from Canada. It was as if they were saying to the Royals, "sign here"...(we are leaving you...thank you very much...have a nice journey back to England).
Nice try!!!
Queen Elizabeth had already signed. However, my dna, it is said, can over rule her signature, thus, I removed acouple of pages....legally. Did she really want Canada to leave kneeling in front of her? I guess so.
"France will not be there when you need her in the future Mr. Levesque. France will be in no position to come to your aid. But, you have each other. (And, to the Anglophones)..."you are throwing away one of your arms...and (sadly) it is the best part of the body!"
"You are going to need each other. One day, North America may be cut off from Europe and you are going to need each other."
"You don't need us!"
It was like having a teenager and realizing that without your knowledge they grew up and were leaving home...with or without your permission...thank you very much indeed!
"You're going to need this..." says mommy...and two to several ships later...voila...the runt is gaining strength and measure.
THAT was why Brian Mulroney had been hired. He had witness the signature of a woman. Call her Elizabeth Quinn. Call her Mz. Fields. Call her Estelle Parsons. Call her whatever but he knew the woman who signed the German Car deal. He was a lawyer. Did they ever find him I wonder?
Mr. Mulroney had missed a very important appointment with a lot of important people. Someone had left a message with someone. It was a the school chum of one of the Mulroney kids. It was a male looking for any information on the Mulroney family who literally disappeared. The day the kids did not return to their schools marked the day of this disappearance which is said to be in the late eighties right after the said earlier "investigation" scandal involving the airbus and the cash "retainer" given the week before Brian Mulroney had left political office.
"Did you try Mr. Mulroney's home?"
"It is all boarded up," replied the young male friend of the Mulroneys, "something is wrong. I feel it. I know it. They would not have just gotten up and left."
"Where does he live?"
I could feel it as well. So, we knocked on the front boarded up door. They were inside. Had they been tied up? Were they almost dead from lack of oxygen?
"Why would anyone stuff the top of the airvents?"
Most unusual.
"Do you have a friend I can take you to Mr. Muloney?"
"My fathers."
I read the papers and it is like, "isn't that the news reel in the first investigation?"
Is someone using old reels to rewrite an old story? I can't help but wonder if there is a "foreclosure sign" on the Mulroney properties?
I am waiting to see if the newspapers carry "extradition orders" for Brian Mulroney to be taken to the USA...right? And why would anyone want Mr. Mulroney to go to the USA? Is it because one must prove that one is innocent in the USA where as in Canada one is "presumed innocent until proven guilty". How does one prove innocence when held without bail in the USA, without the rights to the telephone as the "one call" may be a decade thing and not a day or year thing as Leo Cohen had insisted had happened to him when he had been arrested without being charged? How does one deal with the USA, "guilty until proven innocent."
Oh....I don't think that there will be bailouts. I don't think that the USA is going to see a lot of new investors. Do they go out of their way to protect them?
The UK is not going to extradite the Mulroney family nor is France. In fact, it would surprise me if the USA lawmakers are going to find any country that is willing to extradite the Mulroneys. The Queen has overuled the Canadian judges according to "law"...right? Can the Queen overrule the non royal addressed as Sir Charles married to a non royal? Of course she can and she can counter sue...right? According to the UK law, the chief of the Royals whoever he or she is can overrule an execution order just as they can order, without trial, an execution...right? Well, except that Sinead O'Connor changed the law somewhat by placing chains on the UK Parliament building until the "local politicians" came to terms with a new order place before them by Sinead which said in content something like, "no royals presently sitting on the thrones can execute with or without trial".
Was someone trying to execute poor Sinead without trial?
And, while I am sitting focusing on the movie there are these odd flashes back to the early seventies, like, "I was wondering if you (Ellen Burnstyn) lost a little girl in the fifties?"
And, "you remind me of Elsie (no middle name) Wigle"...just a little...when one stands back and you're face is at a certain degree...???"
But, the question is never asked of Ellen, "are you my mother?" The same question posed over and over again by many a hungry little actresses to Estelle Parsons.
"No! I am not your mother. Are you here for a job?"
Doris Day could do Ellen Burnstyn so there is a notable likeness. Natalie Wood could do the character of Ellen Burnstyn. The difference is in the legs I think. Few people would have guessed that there were actually two actresses playing Alice....one the older...the other the younger.
Strange though!?! I thought that the actress playing friend and seamstress was Iris Wigle. I thought that Natalie Wood had approached Iris asking if she could write a script or two for her...but that would make the movie closer to, I thought, 1982. It couldn't have been 1982???
In my somewhat demented amnesitic mind I form this vision of "Flo" running up on stage after the screening of the movie in front of a multitude of actors and directors and slapping "Ellen" across the head several times. It didn't make any sence to me, this vision of mine, why would the other actors be hitting and beating on poor old Ellen? Was Christopherson there? No...he was already hitting the bars and on the road home. What happened? I don't know.
Why would Diane Ladd be stapping Ellen if this had actually happened? Was it because she had been told that this was a "light skinned negro?"
Did either Natalie Wood or Doris Day have negro dna or was it merely "aboriginal" dna? Nat had aboriginal and so did Doris. What of it? Is it assumed that "sand niggers" have negro dna because the white blood lines go back to the early sixteen hundreds in North America?
Most of the great actors had aboriginal dna like Charleston Heston, Randolph Scott, Rory Calhoun, Frank Sinatra, Marlon Brando, John Wayne, Dean Martin and many others. Who decided that these people were not as worthy as the Polish and the Germans, the Irish and the Anglophones?
Terry was not really the son of Doris Day according to dna experts right? Whatever you do Iris, don't ask, "how is your mother today?"
I read in a Canadian paper recently that the Screenwriters Union have decided in a pay raise to be levied on all new movies and scriptwriting for the television programs and it is like, "how many of these 200,000 union members actually work for a studio?"
Well, I have a doubts that this particular union can exercise controls over the European markets...right? It is a waiting game though, isn't it? Scriptwriters will read book after book to rewrite what the original author has written in hopes of gaining the copyrights or a movie deal...right? Why not use the author herself? Well, they can't make financial gain that way.
Margaret Atwood flew in when she had heard that Estelle Parsons had been in LA for a brief visit to a morgue. Margaret sits impatiently doing the eye to eye thing with Estelle.
"You're saying that my movie, North and South, is a remake of your book? Well, I never read your book...give it to me...I'll read it after my nap. Come back in a couple of hours."
Off Margaret trots to God knows where and so I read the book eventually.
"This is nothing like my movie!"
And, "Where are the similarities?"
Well, there was a couple and they eventually would fall in "love". We have the falling in love theme people!
And, there was the year around the "Civil War." We, have the era of the setting.
"And?"
There was nothing else! Every writer has the right for the "love" theme and the "hate" theme" and the "mother and daddy" scene, starting at one to twenty babies, and any "era" that one would pick. There is not one author that is given the bids on that unless one was to go back to the Royals who could also sue over copyrights as they have the "historical documents" as written down in their own handwriting. Not to mention, that the Royals loved to play Shakespeare and do some script writing on their own throughout the agies. Plays! Plays! Plays!
"And, do let us ask Bach for another rehearsal!"
Musicians, artists, playwrights, actors have been the plague of society and many were presented in court by Popes and Bishops and Bankers perhaps...right?
Her face sagged momentarily.
"I have written so many books. Why has no one ever asked me to do a movie?" Margaret sighed.
"Margaret? I can call you Margaret can't I? You're book is NOT our movie. However, it is entertaining. I can't guarantee you a movie on the big screen. (That would take a lot of investment money to promote.)
"However, I can try to promote it for a television spot. Would you be interested in that?"
Margaret Atwood was interested in "that".
"What I would suggest is that you spend the rest of the afternoon and sit down and write your own script and bring it back to me by five o'clock."
She brought it back. Estelle Parsons read the script page by page.
"I like this...I don't like that...this is dull...come on...put yourself in the place of your character...what would you have done? Give me something that shouts, "that's interesting? Oh yeah...give me something gossipy...something naughty?"
She had to think. She had to dream and voila, out came the juicy morsel that made the trot to the bathroom not worth making because the audience just might miss something and the audience really don't want to miss a bit of the gossip...right?
"Now," whispers Estelle to Margret Atwood, "if I was you, I would go hire two to four lawyers to bring back with you to sign the contract with the studio."
And, so she did. Making one's book into a movie is not about who is the most gifted author. It is all about money. If one does not have the investment money, one can not find a director. The most important part of the whole equation is money. Thus, girl after girl, can complain to their managers and to the studios, "why didn't you call me? Why did you call her?"
Answer: "Do you have investment money to bring in?"
It may cost only between ten thousand to thirty thousand (in the sixties to do - including the Spagietti Westerns with Clint Eastwood) but it cost close to a million to three million for advertisement and to send out the reels coast to coast in all contenients...right
Clint Eastwood did not have the monies for the movies. Estelle Parsons had lent him the original thirteen to twenty thousand for his first movie but it would cost close to three million within the next few months before the monies would start to turn to the colour of green.
No one had wanted to do a Glass Menegerie nor Towering Inferno. Inferno was a sleeper which means that it started off slow in the red for a year or so but eventually turned into the green. No one can afford to do sleepers. It is like throwing money away people. Movies not seen as big winners will go to the television.
I here that someone is thinking of doing a remake on it is a Mad, Mad, Mad World. Don't they have to pay monies to the person that owns the copyrights?
Ireland thought that they had the right to do Robin Hood and I had been called along with other movies. They did an "excellent" job in their movies but they did not own the copyright. People must pay royalties...right? Dah!
Unless they kill all the investors and get their daughters and sons to claim that they are the long lost child of said copyright persons...right? That might be a shortcut through claims court.
"They claim to be your long lost cousin through a step brother who may or may not have married your (uncertified) husband."
"What do they want?"
"Well Griffith would like to go to college?"
Right! Of course he did.
Margaret wanted to keep her own copyright to her books in particular "this book". Of course she did! She was a well established author. Now, she was on the road to being her own scriptwriter. Did the other studio want to take that away from her? Tricky water...very tricky indeed. The problems don't start necessarily with the original actress, author and scriptwriter. The problems accumulate with the "heirs"...right? So, that instead of dealing with only one person, a studio ends up dealing with hundreds of relatives which creates a mega migraine for the studios. Thus, one will find people like Tom Hanks, who will pay out a million to three million for an actress and author to "sign off" which means that the author or actress no longer have bids for future monies and if they don't sign off then the studio, which is the investor, will find someone who will sign off unless they do everything themselves.
Rachel Welch was one actress that signed off but without any monies. That is why if one is too look very closely at Rachel's wrist one will see cut marks made by a manager that wanted to take off her hand...right? Was it the same managers that tried to cut off the wrist of Montgomery Cliff? Hmmm?
There are so many talented actors that were willing to work even minimum wage just as there are actors that are content with a million dollar package. Contrary to rumours, Natalie Wood did not make thousands nor millions, for her movies. She made in the sixties only about thirteen thousand dollars. I know. I had asked her when I was typing up her biography. And, the Natalie Wood book, shows her as being very well off with a schooner and everything a girl needs to trap a rich man. Ohhhh!!! So deja vu of Katherine Zita Jones! The apple did not fall far from the tree!
"Why are the revenue people after you?"
"Because a newspaper reporter said I had made thousands on this movie and they thought I hadn't filed my taxes properly."
"Why didn't you correct the reporters?"
"I don't know. Do you want people to think that I am a poor gutter snip!?! If one wants to look workable one must look the part."
What? As if a director might not want Natalie Wood if they thought she had no monies? Hmmm?
"Good thinking!"
But, was it? Howard Hughes was also accused of not paying enough revenue tax. I know. He told me so. Thus, I had to ask him to bring in his tax returns to take a look myself and was there any loopholes. One should never do one's taxes by oneself...right? Yet, part of him was hurting. He had built airplanes and all sorts of things to help out the government who thought that in return they didn't have to pay him.
"Not even a thank you note!"
And, here they were after him. Or them? Howard always sent out lookalikes ahead of the trail to see if it was safe for him to step out of a plane. Oh...they were never going to catch the real Howard Hughes were they? He remembers me more than I him only in that I broke down a studio door to let him out of a room. The room where he had peaed in several bottles.
"Why couldn't you get the door opened? Were you locked inside? Were you abducted Mr. Hughes?"
Very reclusive...very reclusive indeed.
Did you watch the musical play, "Chess", this week with Per Myrberg. Wasn't he fantastic? I had to cover my eyes though in one spot, just from habit, when the girls were licking his legs with their hands.
"Come...on...how close do you want those fingers between your legs?"
That close! His eyes were watching me constantly as I sat somewhere in the audience, center stage, between the first and the fourth row. He does not have the best voice in the world. He has the most fantastic voice according to my way of thinking. And stage presence...like wow?!?!
I am not his best version of a powerful voice nor a beautiful voice. In fact, we don't actually like each other at all. We always squared off to our corners. I am, as he well said many a time, "a tight ass type."
"Ohhhhh....please....never change your mind Per. Always hold that thought."
Were they hoping for some more investment monies. And, I would have considered it except the man or the woman behind or next to me had stabbed me with a neddle...right? And, I started to fall asleep. I don't remember if I actually walked away to a backstage or a dressing room. Someone may or may not have walked me there for one reason or another. However, fortunately for moi, the actors on stage had been watching and I made it home safely. I just don't remember what home I had made it safely to or whose bed???
Per reminds me of Bobby Vinton who may or may not have played a Richard Simmons role in his life time. I use to be so afraid and intemidated by Per. He had a way of making me lose my tongue. I would be speechless as if I could disappear and he could be free to walk right on by me without having to say, "look what the cat dragged in?"
I guess that meant that I may have actually been attracted to him. He had so many friends...both male and female. Me...I travelled solo. Besides, he wasn't my type although truth be told, he and I, had more in common that FBI men and Dennis Cutforth. He understood my music and could interpret my music better than moi or so he thought. He could give a song a lift and make it fly. Yet, I really didn't need him at all. He was just very interesting to watch. Much more interesting than Mario Lonzo, another aboriginal Italian type persona. The only early records that I ever had was that of Mario. I didn't even have my own records...just Mario. Mario had stage presence but not like Per. Per "owned" the stage when he performed and he did it extremely well.
Very arrogant...very arrogant indeed.
It makes me wonder if he had any, hush, German dna? Or Russian? Hmmm? I still would like to do, "Deborah and Barak", both movie and musical but...that would mean going to the USA and I am not going where I am not wanted any more. It doesn't mean that I have "signed off" on my own copyrights....it just means that I don't want to play with a certain group of people anymore.
"Chess", was not made in the year 2003 nor 2005. It dawned before ABBA 1979...right? Part of me wonders if someone was trying to make "Chess" look a little like the Phantom of the Opera? Or, was someone trying to say that they were the real composer for the Dana Winner songs composed by Dana and used later by ABBA? Except for the song, "Isn't he great?" A song composed with an FBI man in mind....just keep on walking with your white hat, sombreo and gun and whatever! And, no more ABBA...just like that! And, did they think that the world was going to slap them on the back forever for snuffing out a light? Of course they did. People like that...don't want everlasting life. They only want now. Good! Let them have now. I don't want them to have everlasting life...not anymore. I won't even put their names in prayer before Jehovah Himself in a bid for pity and favour. I can't.
Was Nathan Knorr ever into "spanking" videos? How about Franz? How about Henchel? Hmmm? Jesus is going to bring out all the vidoes fellow cause Jesus said, there was "no secret that would not be" released to the public in the future. We all get to see the sins of humanity whether they be the sins of Nathan Knorr or Ken Little...we will all get to view and to judge each person that ever lived.
I loved the ending of Bettie Page. She gave her heart to Jesus and preached out on the streets. What an ending!?! Goldie, non man person, couldn't have come up with a better ending.
There was once, though, a human bondage thing that Goldie had heard about. It was on Youtube...probably still is...where these JW's tie up this young woman with ropes...not on the floor...she is about five feet off of the floor and then they leave her there for the weekend to sort of "break her in." Unfortunately, she died and it is said, mind you this is just gossip, that someone tied the menfold up into that same position and left them for the same amount of time. Not exactly a Jesus thing is it but it is a Jehovah thing right? Eye for eye and tooth for tooth.
Golly!?! What people will do for entertainment!!! And, the only thing that Bettie Page had done which may or may not have been embarassing is that she had posed "nude" for several photos but as she explained, "God created Adam and Eve nude."
End of story. And, if God wanted it to be anyother way Bettie Page was sure that God would let her know that she should find another job even if she was wearing clothes. But, God, can't be that interested one way or another because He allowed 1967 to happen. God allowed JW's with the help of Glen How to do the rope thing, the naked thing, the torture thing, the photo thing in Montreal 1967 and no matter how JW's paint it...it still comes up as torture...it still comes up red. And, Goldie is going to push those photos right up into the nostrils of Jehovah himself if she can ever fly up that high. There was no "hedge" for the righteously inclined. The charge is still on the books and no matter how much Jehovah may or may not bless Goldie it will never change. No matter how much Jehovah may or may not give whatever to Goldie...it will never change...it happened and He can not undo it! Goldie never wanted to be "touched" by any man. Jehovah can not give her that back!
He can make her forget what happened but He will never be able to undo His own memories. He will never forget. The angels on both sides, right and left, will never forget. They will merely say, "it had nothing to do with Jehovah." And, "loving Jehovah with all of one's heart has nothing to do with hedges."
He can't undo it!
That being said...I can never love Jehovah to the same degree. I know that if I ever needed a hedge ever again...He probably won't be there. I loved Jehovah so emmensely in 1967 that I can't even explain the depth of that love...but I do know that there was no hedge. Men, including JW elders, can do whatever they want to the female and do it without worry that Jehovah will ever exact blood and punishment from them or so it seems. Of course, we can say that the Israelite nation also thought along the same lines and look what happened to them...eventually Jehovah did the eye for eye thing. I do know that if I had been a man...it would not have happened and that is a truth. Thus, I over estimated the value of my loving Jehovah with all of my heart, soul and mind. I was not of that much value to Him. I can aruge to myself that Jehovah was still allowing the nations to trample upon the Jewish nations UNTIL the full limit of the times was over and it doesn't help. I can say to myself, that Jehovah allowed John the Baptist and the Apostle Paul to be tortured to death and it does not help. A woman's torture should not be greater than that of the Apostle Paul's nor that of Jesus and definitely not greater than Jobs. I am still waiting for the reversal to take place where Jehovah gives Job back ten children in place of his ten children being killed. I am still waiting for my skin "to become younger than my youth." I may have to wait a long time. I had faith that it would all take place until acouple of years ago when all of my four children diganosed themselves with "manic depression" and it was like, "hey...where is the blessing? Where is the, "Jehovah will never forget what you have done for His name?"
I should remember that when that hot water tank exploded after Alanis Morrisette had sung her newly composed song entitled, "Uninvited", that one of the high men from Bethel died down in the bacement as the hot water ran down to the lower lever smothering the men hiding down there. I should remember that this particular JW elder had a small bone from a baby in his pocket that he had claimed had belonged to me. It was rumoured that after I had died in the hot water that he was going to bury the babies bone with me. What the?
What baby? It wasn't my baby! It wasn't the Jean Seberg baby! It wasn't the Janis Joplin baby! It wasn't even an illigitemate baby nor a light skinned negro baby. Well, maybe it was or maybe it wasn't a negro baby but not my baby. My baby was not negro. The Jean Seberg baby was buried in a vault off of the regular cemetary route as JW elders and there friends had blocked my entrance into the cemeteries one by one. My baby was not illigitemate. I was indeed married with, it is said, three marriage certificates...right? None of which had Nathan Knorr's name on them nor that of Glen How. My husband was not a JW. He had been a police officer. He had been a Federal agent.
I never wanted anything except to be a virgin. I did not want gold nor silver nor talent nor friends nor family. I just had wanted to be a nun. And, no one can give my back 1967. They can't block it out of my mind. Oh...they can do the hypnosis thing and they did it very well. And, maybe the hypnosis may have dictated that I was to forget every event that included being hit over the head and every moment of torture but even Jesus can't block out the truth. Not even wine can block that out. I over estimated Jehovah's consideration to me that is all. He did not love me the way that I had loved him. Get over it!
I was dreaming along, real regular like, when all of a sudden my dreams started to shuffle rapidly which left me clutching my pillow as I tried in vain to wake up.
"Jehovah don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
How to describe this particular nightmare? I can't! It can best be described as "sort of" like the movie "Sphere", with Dustin Hoffman and Sharon Stone....the part where they push a button and they are out in outer space with all the planets zooming by...except in my dream...it is not planets...they are pieces of debris, rocks, parts of lumber flashing by my eyes so rapidly that it literally makes me spin. It made me feel very ill. It was just too much.
Thus, the next day while washing the dishes I couldn't help wonder if Jehovah Himself had made a night visit as if He was saying back to me, "if you can't handle a thousand of My thoughts in the space of a minute or two...exactly how are you going to shove those photos up My nostrils?"
Good point!
I know...the photo mission would take a lot of energy. First, I would have to get by the satraps (lower angels) and work my way up to the Cherubs, through to the 24 elders, up to the four mega Weir chariot, East, West, North and South, finally to face the Arch Angel also called Jesus who is the only angel to stand before Jehovah. Rather a very difficult task indeed!
And, every time I go around in circles on this 1967 thing where I desire to push into His nostrils this file the same thing happens and it is like I am jumping right back into His arms, "don't leave me, don't leave me!"
No, I am serious. I've had this nightmare before and right away the first thing that came to mind is that I may have picked up a demon. The thoughts are rapid from every angle and I feel, while I am dreaming, like I am on a psychedelic trip and/or tasting the life of a Schizoid for "just a few seconds".
Maybe, Jehovah, was letting me know, "I heard that you were looking for me."
I envision the thousand year program of similair quality like, "Zap!" You are going the wrong way."
A small dose of Schizoid jam and we are sure you will rethink this thing over.
Back to Per Myrberg. It's a puzzle. Where was I that night? Or morning? Per? Hmmm? I am trying to remember when I first met you? He may have seen me more than I saw him. I may have seen him on just several visits but I am not quite sure. He may or may not have dropped by to say hello at a "boss" table where I chatted with studio executives and I may not have remembered who he was at all???
He reminds me of Jimmy from, Thoroughly Modern Millie, who may or may not have also played at being Richard Morris, but I am not sure. All I remember about Jimmy is "Tappioca Pudding"...a short song that aludes Montreal 1967. I had been hospitalized after shock treatment as signed by a JW elder...right? This was in the middle of one of the so called court trials where JW elders did everything that they could to find me guilty so that New York Bethel artists, Paul and David, would not recieve bad press nor jail time. I had multiple stab wounds from them earlier along with broken bones. Left behind a stand near my hospital bed was this small tapioca cup and a spoon. The top of it had been resealed but one could tell that it had been toiled with so I doned a hospital coat and headed down to a lab to see if there was any arsenic in the tapioca. To my surprise the tapioca was not tapioca...it was sperm from several doners. I guess it would take a lot of doners to fill the cup. And, some of the sperm had the colour of yellow. It was a curiosity so I had to ask one of the technicians working in the sperm bank, "why the yellow?"
There were several reasons one was that the yellow might suggest a contamination. Thus, the sperm bank didn't want the tapioca pudding or so they said. Last, I heard they may or may not have left it behind accidentally and last I heard, they may or may not have used the sperm to impregnate mothers that needed sperm from the sperm bank.
What? Do we have a bunch of Nathan Knoors running around? Well, whatever, it has nothing to do with me. I wonder if the Montreal lab kept the dna of the tapioca sperm on file...some labs do you know as a why of following up.
Tapioca pudding?
I wonder if Jimmy was involved with all of the musicals. Isn't Jeanine Tesori, number one, Estelle Parsons, not born in 1961 as suggested, but the one born between 1945 - 1947? It is said that the man playing the part of Jimmy Smith is James Fox.
James Fox? No, relation at all to Frida Fox? I was so terrified of people.
"Just keep on walking by Jimmy!"
He has so much energy. Nice home though! I don't know why I know that he had a very nice flat but he did.
???
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Oh...one of those Jewish type men...right?
News alert as provided by the Toronto Star: Sarah Mclachlin will be singing on Canada Day. Huh?
At one time Janis Joplin would show up unannounced when so called managers for a main event needed a fill in...under the JW... "good sport" thing. I thought about it last night though...and I came to the conclusion, "I don't feel like doing Sarah."
I doubt, very much, if they really expected Sarah to show up. And, if they did, would they have been sharpening the "let's remove a breast thing?"
I wanted to go. I wanted to go very much....but Iris does not sing. Besides, I had not been even invited...not really. It made me wonder how many of those attending had restraining orders that they could take to the JW courtroom so they could inherit under the clause, "it really upset us that she showed up (so pay us some type of compensation!)
Has anyone been following the Michael Jackson thing? Wasn't this done once before? Everyone had said that MJ was dead so a "white" MJ showed up with a really bad nose job but the real "negro" (can I say that?) MJ was sitting somewhere just watching and wondering, "how can they do this?"
"Oh sweetie, they can do this!" Don't they have a phony Janis Joplin to play dead for will time? and all sorts of lookalikes for every personality even for Kate Nash...right?
On to more less important news.
Men with Brooms and no brains right. I like to watch it every once in a while because the really good looking Man with a broom reminds me of my cousin Jeffrey Clarke.
At any rate, I am watching and wondering to myself, "isn't that the JW brother from New Liskard?" one of the men playing with a broom?
To my surprise, in the background magic mushrooms came up in the program and I said to myself, "wow, they look a lot like the mushrooms growing in the green grass that the city of Toronto just planted at the roadside in the back of the building. Now...being a scientific type persona I just had to run out and grab acouple of those long stem mushrooms recently planted by the city to do a test. I don't have the results yet. Strange though...that the city of Toronto mite be growing magic mushrooms in their turf...so I doubt that the mushrooms I picked are the real item. Nothing has happened as of yet...but I just had a beer and a glass of wine so...I mite get a little confused.
At any rate, the movie stirred up some memories be they true or false. For example, did anyone watching this movie notice that the girl playing the wife of the man with the large amount of money stuffed in a bag had a mole on her cheek. Questions? Questions? Questions?
Estelle Parsons had been told by a studio manager, "you might want to watch this movie?"
Was it because the actress playing the part of the woman with the mole on her face may have accidentally called herself by an Estelle Parsons alias or daughter or sister or whatever? Something had happened. I am not saying that the girl who may or may not have been posing as an Iris Wigle ended up missing or in a morgue in the Western part of Canada and I am not saying that the man with the orange hair was also missing right? Those bushes up in Canada go on forever and they are not the type of playground to enter in without a bush person by one's side...right...especially if they are city folk from LA?
I know...I know..."it is always at the end of a movie that an actor goes missing?"
Now, you may have guessed that the movie, "Black Corners", may have included some real history imported into the making of the movie. Did you notice all the photos on the wall of the actor playing the part of the fornicator wanting to help an abusive wife? Who was she?
Was it Natalie Wood that he is searching for? The missing Mrs. Chapman from the Sharon Tate trials? It was someone from the Sharon Tate home that he had supper with that night or the night before the Sharon Tate break in...perhaps. Mrs. Chapman had been hanging outside in a tree while Sharon Tate #1 was hanging inside. Mrs. Chapman was awakened by the sound of birds and cracking branches swaying in the wind the next morning...at least twelve hours of hanging in the tree. She pulled herself up arm over arm to loosen the rope only to drop to the ground in a hard thump. She pulled herself up to go into the house. She stood inside naked and covered in her own blood from a bullet wound to the stomach and back. Four to seven other actors followed in behind her several minutes later that had been hiding from the out sit of the home invasion. One had a camera. One was named Ronnie Cunningham. One young girl was named Julie Roberts...right? Byrne...right? and whoever. They couldn't get out of the yard as the gate had been closed. Thus, they waited. It didn't even occur to them to get Mrs. Chapman down from the tree. After all, unconscious, she looked quite still...even dead.
Was that who the man with the orange hair had been searching for? I don't know. Did Mrs. Chapman operate on Jay Seberg and bring him back to life? Undoubtedly. So, what is the problem? I don't know. I don't trust Jay Sebring? I don't know why. Was he sitting at Erin Brocovich's table? Did telephone records show him to be a friend or an acquaintance of hers?
I can understand the confusion to some extent. I mean, no one knew that Sharon Tate #2 had been given a new alias of Faye Dunnaway by Estelle Parsons, along with false teeth and false eye colour. Faye did not even go to her own father for at least three years to tell him that she was still alive. Fear can be that enormous people!
Then, there was all these phony witnesses coming for during the Sharon Tate trials to give phony and misleading information. They were not even at the Sharon Tate home that night yet they took over the trial completely bringing in their own judge and jury...right? Jesus knows the truth and one day he will vomit all the liars right out of this world...right?
I was afraid of the actor with the orange hair. I don't know why. Was he concerned that I would tell people that he was still alive? I don't know. Was it because someone had told me if I needed a really good wig I should call him? Why? Was he in the wig business?
I had ordered all studios NOT to use real hair wigs that included the scalp. Is that a NAZI thing or is it just an OLD AGE thing? One looks at the photos or royals throughout the centuries donning wigs and it never occurred to anyone that the hair may have been scalped off of the dead cadaver...right? Did you ever look at the holocaust biographies only to see a room full of victim's hair...intact...and why is that? Were they scalped alive or dead? Dead scalps ready for the manufacturer's to sale off to the rich? Why not? Weren't they already making buttons from the victim's bones?
Phony relatives seem to be a plague among the well known and/or rich...right? Take Gandi for example. His son once told me that he wasn't even allowed to go to his own mother's funeral. It seemed that there was "another son". Did the other son end up having dna from Portugal?
The man with the orange hair may or may not have been related to Alan Ladd and perhaps cousin to William Holden? He may or may not have been related to the Ilers, like the Ladds, and the Wigles? Alan Ladd had been moving monies into charities for Estelle Parsons. Does that mean anything? Shirley Jane Temple was afraid of Alan Ladd in the early fifties but I can't remember why? I just remember people chasing me and Alan Ladd was running after me calling me to come to him and I couldn't. I just kept running. Was it a Dodd that had been throwing bricks at Shirley Jane Temple as picked up by a news crew in the fifties? I don't know. Lou Dobbs...is Polish right? I wonder if he was related to Erin Brocovich? And, I hid from Gary Cooper who may or may not have been looking for his daughter. I hid his gun and I don't know why. There is this very slim memory of laying on a sidewalk naked after being placed their by a so called police officer as ordered by a judge after I had been released from jail and I just laid there terrified to move and someone like a Dodd boy had thrown bricks at my back and face. And, it is like, I was saying to myself, "I don't want to know you people anymore."
And, that is as close to getting to who I once was...just that terror of not wanting to belong. Then, there was the Wigles in Canada. The terror or the Wigles? And, I lose the earlier memories. What type of father or mother would watch bricks being thrown at a child left naked on a street? What type of brother or sister would seal their lips? And uncles and producers, directors and actors...and while I am trying to recapture a lost memory, be in real or false, I see Debbie Reynolds and the memory is gone.
Someone had thrown his coat over my cold naked body. Was it Bobby Darin? I don't remember. He wasn't a Dobb and he wasn't Polish. And I escaped into Canada.
The problems started before the Sharon Tate break in. It started in Montreal 1967 and the fifties. A young man had decided around 1967 to do his own version of the making of the movie Marnie without my consent. His version had nothing to do with my script. Mine was a partial biography of myself and my fears. He may or may not have also talked an actress to take on the name of Victoria Principal. Victoria Principal number two was not in the movie Earthquake. Did this young man need a lookalike to move charity money into his own bank account? I don't know. Was he the one day....to be referred to as...Dennis Cutworth married to Iris Wigle? I don't know.
Did the FBI find a snake in a theater? Someone had been looking for his son. I told him that the last place I had seen him was in a restaurant bar and it seemed to match the day or night or week he had gone missing.
"I placed the washroom key by the cash register"...then left to find a woman's washroom back at the studio that was not that far from this bar and may or may not have been arrested and for whatever reason I had left my purse and my sweater back in the bar.
The door was unlocked. We entered. I refused to go beyond the bathroom door that showed several dead young men on the floor with knives, drills, nail guns and metal contraptions on a penis here and there. There was another door or opening which may or may not have lead into a theater. I backed away. It felt evil. It felt very evil. The dog backed away and came to my side. The dog was more terrified then me and he wasn't even my dog. He belonged to one of the men that had been searching for a missing person. The dog paced and barked and would run back to me as if he wisely needed protection. Something was moving beyond the bathroom area. Something that felt large was shuffling. It was so dark that no one could see exactly what or who it was...just the feeling of something alive. The lights didn't work. Why is that? I don't know. Was the room kept dark so no one could identify the persons sitting beside them or in front or behind? I don't know. Was it a secret club where people play the judge and jury and wearing black hoods to cover their true identities? I don't know. There were screams. There was gun shots. I would not go in. There were screams and screams. I ran outside to the car and took out a rifle from the trunk. One of the FBI men came running out in a panic. I threw the rifle to him. More gun shots...more screams. I took some dynamite and a large knife. I wouldn't go in. I climbed up instead onto the roof but came back to retain a hammer to bang open a hatch. Dynamite, knife, hammer and rope.
The room was dark with only the light from the shared bathroom. My eyes slowly centered on the movement....a large boa hanging upside down....enjoying his latest meal...an FBI man looking for a missing person. Good! Great position for a belly to be cut open and one would only get ONE chance...all the way from head to tail. Plump! There he is...my enemy....on the floor.
"Don't open your eyes!"
We carried him outside and held a piece of cloth over his eyes.
"You will go blind if you open your eyes!"
He obeyed. He didn't like me. Did it matter? Did I expect someone who hated light skinned negro type persons to say, "thank you"? They never do...you know. The hate never ends. It is a door made of steel. Good! I really didn't want to know you anyways. Audrey would have liked to have met you. Audrey liked everyone. Audrey wanted everyone to make it to Heaven and into the Paradise. People change.
The snake was eventually dragged outside by two other men and gutted even more until rings and bracelets dropped out from previous meals.
What type of person would bring a boa into a theater? Had he been a musician? A hard rocker type person. Was that his ring there on the road?
No one would hire him nor help him. Estelle Parsons did though...didn't she. They never say thank you. People like Estelle is good for only one thing you say, "like what?" ....like throwing knives into the back, nails and bullets?
Birds of a feather fly together....and it never changes. I am obviously in the wrong hen house.
John Travolta? Did he call the police to have me removed from my own studio under the presences that my office was "his office."
"Did I tell him or you that he could take over my office?"
"You weren't using it."
I used it! Once every three to ten years. Thing is...it belonged to me and not to John Travolta. Was he even paying me rent?
It is like this Pine Ridge Reservation where the aboriginals are being chased away from. The law is on the side of the governor. And, the governor has a friend in real estate that wants to convert the land into a town. Thing is..."did he pay anything for the land at all?"
How is that possible? There is a piece of land. Someone decided it was government owned and it should be sold but it is never sold. It appears that white people can buy land called a reservation without actually having to pay for the land...right? Thus, with the free land they can build homes for the rich and save a lot of monies in cost right?
Why wasn't the government paid for the land? Thus, with the land not sold...the land still belongs to the previous owner which was the aboriginals who had purchased the lands in the first place. In the 1700's the law was, "if you cleared the land...the land belonged to the pioneer" and in Canada we gave them the tools to work with.
J. E. Hoover worked three jobs, along with all his aboriginal kin, to purchase their own reservation. How is it possible for white people to take over aboriginal land purchased by aboriginals between 1900 and 1980?
Does anyone have a conscious?
(After thought of previous topic:)
The dog went back into the building to try to prevent the boa from killing his master who may have suffered a few broken bones in the rib cage that Estelle Parsons may have pieced back together with whale bone...right? The dog crawled back out. Did he or she die?
"Sorry...I can't stay. I have to be back to work on Monday."
In Canada...thank God!
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