Part One

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This writing is one of many attempts to secure moral and legal cooperation in the correction of immoral and illegal acts. So defined in my constitution — and in yours.
It is in a sense an application for legal representation.
As will be seen, the legal system is a part of the massive group from whom I seek relief. They will not prosecute themselves.
I apologize for the sometimes hardly legible handwriting.
The subject matter will be new to you and, because of it’s vastness — and your unfamiliarity with the background — you will have immediate questions.
I ask only that you overlook any questioning until you have read the entire bit. You will find that most of your questions will be answered. Certainly most of the key questions.
Surely, in any event, enough to enable you to reach a decision as to whether to pursue the matter — or to drop it, as many have done.
Should an illegible word or phrase puzzle you — and again, my apologies — I will, of course, interpret it for you.
I am an American — born that way, and I’ll die that way. But — of the original 1776 variety — whose intent was really clean, believing in freedom for this country — and for all others. Not the type of today, the group which has converted that original constitution — and its intent — into a Mafia base of operations, grown so powerful that it censors the will of the general public and threatens the security of the rest of the world.
It is a request for legal representation. The first lawyer to whom I made this request — two months before the 1968 election — was Richard Nixon, and his partner, John Mitchell. That request elected Nixon to the presidency — as you shall see. And he has been running from me ever since. Chappaquiddick, “Howard Hughes,” and Nader are some of the keys. But the real key was a hit-run accident by the Alioto family — covered up by Alioto — that exposed the Mafia Election Process which elected Nixon. They now want Alioto out of the way, but not by exposing the key. And Alioto knows this — and so —

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Dec. 10, 1971
Note: Ralph Nader published a book — “Unsafe At Any Speed” — a costly critique of General Motors. The attorney for GM was Ted Sorenson (former JFK advisor). GM attempted to discredit Nader — private investigators. Nader sued for $26 million — “Invasion of privacy.” Called the “suit of the century” — GM attorneys (Sorenson, Rifkind, Goldberg) had it blocked through the century. Nader faithful believed that Nader would fight it all the way through.
Public knowledge of the accompanying letter changed that in four days. Without topping Nader, in any way, in his critique of GM — Simon Rifkind (note that Sorenson suddenly dropped out of sight), Sorenson’s partner, delivered to Nader $467,000 cash — a tax-free settlement. Nader quickly grabbed the bait — to the total dismay of his faithful. Nader knew, however, what his followers didn’t know — this letter. This, he knew, was the whole ball of wax. He didn’t have to settle for $26 million. He could have it all. If I gave it to him. And I offered.
Ted Sorenson, an advisor to JFK, was called upon to write Teddy’s Chappaquiddick “walk on water” speech. Simon Rifkind, former federal judge, and Sorenson’s partner, was a key figure in the Tammany Hall Judge Crater disappearance in the 1920’s — an old Kennedy friend. Arthur Goldberg, former U.N. Representative and Supreme Court Justice and Labor Department head for Kennedy, and a partner in the firm, hired Esther Newburgh, one of the Chappaquiddick “girls” — but recently, sensing problems, resigned from the firm in favor of solo private practice.
Today — Nader kicks Presidents and Senators in the ass and spits in the eye of other governments (i.e. — Japan, England) — with impunity. Fellmeth finally allowed access to this information — by me — not Nader — published a report labeling the entire California State Government a Mafia cell. Today, Fellmeth is publicly investigating Congress. The original Nader group was Nader, Fellmeth and Cox. Cox is now Nixon’s son-in-law.
This letter — since August, 1970, has been on Nixon’s desk — and Mitchell’s, Alioto’s, Onassis’, Hoover’s, and on and on. It, with related incidents, has resulted in China’s admission to the U.N., Nixon’s world trips to everywhere — including Russia and China — Agnew’s antics, Teddy’s bit, and Nader’s winning of a private (non political party) poll by Mike Royko on the presidency — 1100 for Nader, 400 scattered between Muskie, Kennedy, Humphrey, and Nixon.
Nixon is crawling around the world on his belly. Buying, where possible. Selling, otherwise. Teddy dips in all the “holy crusades” — everywhere — Middle East, Pakistan, and Ireland. China wouldn’t let him in. Yesterday, a British politician stated, in Parliament — “Kennedy should stay out of Public affairs and settle his own Personal affairs.” The Churchill-Kennedy-Onassis cancer of the British hierarchy (a hangover from the Joseph P. Kennedy, Roosevelt, Winston, Onassis’ original booze-heroin group) hooted him down — “Unfair to mention the murder at Chappaquiddick!” This, of course, is the same group that covered up

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the head chopping off murder of Wilkinson, in England, by Senator John Tunney’s sister. Tunney — Teddy’s closest friend — originated the phone call series to and from Chappaquiddick on that murder night — from his sister’s home in the Bay Area. That caused Tunney’s sister to wind up in England — and chop her squawking hubby’s head off. For this murder, she’s in a nut house — “sequestered.” She’ll be released soon — “cured.”
Me? Since August, 1970? Nothing. Mitchell and Hoover are hiding. The entire hierarchy is out with shovels — covering up.
The plainly exposed areas — Onassis’ “Howard Hughes,” Chappaquiddick, this letter, and a host of uncovered events in history — assassinations through wars — are all focused on the 1972 U.S. elections. Cover-up is the name of the game. Potentials? Nixon, Nader, Teddy, Muskie, Humphrey, and all the rest? Well, how impressive can they be — with shit-covered faces and massive necrophilia (that’s “fucking of the dead”) on the grave of Mary Jo Kopechne?
It starts, of course, with the most crucial cover-up of all — the cause of Chappaquiddick — the expose of the Mafia Election Process — the unveiling of the cover-up of Christ — namely, the cover-up, by Alioto, of the Alioto hit-run on my car at 10:47 p.m. at the corner of Franklin and Lombard, San Francisco, on September 16, 1968, two months before the 1968 election, which secured Nixon’s election because of the cover-up action. This, in spite of Onassis’ ”Hughes”-Maheu wholesale Las Vegas skim money bribes to all contenders (the skim that “Justice” currently ascribes to Lansky — and that’s how big it is — Lansky is to be the fall guy for that phase of the bit). That hit-run report is currently buried, in City Hall, under the name of Kathryn Hollister. My name is Bruce Porter Roberts — and I am not a girl.
Because of this, Alioto is on trial for things. Many things. But, always elsewhere. And never the hit-run. My “friend” of the hit-run incident in Sept., 1968 — Richard Carlson (now known in China as “Chappaquiddick Little Dickie”) was ordered to write “The Alioto Mafia Web,” a Look story, on election day, 1968, by Nixon — and to bury the hit-run. He obeyed. This, of course, was to hide the key — the Mafia Election Process, being exposed — by me. Nine months later, the pressure from that hit-run caused Chappaquiddick. And there they are — all of them — with shit on their faces.
Read on.

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This Page sent Feb. 12, 1971 to Fellmeth (and Miller)
Here’s a contemporary validity check.
The accompanying letter was written on August 10, 1970 — following a TV interview with Nader on August 9th.
On August 10, two phone calls were made to two San Francisco newspapers — ostensibly to locate a Nader address to which to send the letter. General reason for the letter, with intuition as to contents, was deliberately mentioned. This, over a phone which has been tapped for several years and to the offices of both highly concerned newspapers — one of which was known to be “purchased” by Alioto.
August 15th, issues of papers carried a story involving a sudden cash settlement of Nader’s lawsuit against General Motors. That settlement was made on about August 14 — three or four days after knowledge of contents of a letter involving Chappaquiddick and one of it’s cover-up mentors — Ted Sorenson — was publicly released over a tapped phone to two San Francisco newspapers — plus knowledge that it was being sent to Nader.
Ted Sorenson was the lawyer originally hired by General Motors to contest Nader’s suit. Ted Sorenson’s law firm was the one that presented the cash settlement to Nader’s firm on about August 14th.
Why, then, the sudden settlement — by Teddy Kennedy’s Chappaquiddick cover-up lad, Ted Sorenson, who was also defending General Motors against Nader?
I believe this letter — knowledge of which was released publicly on August 10th — caused this action by Ted Sorenson, who happens to be the cover-up artist in both cases — General Motors and Chappaquiddick.
Millions have been spent to cover up Chappaquiddick. What’s another half million spent attempting to get a known reformer — Nader — off the back of this monstrous group — or attempting to prevent any knowledge of this huge 45 year conspiracy from coming out in the open?
Because of the phone calls — to and from the cottage at Chappaquiddick — Mary Jo mentioned informing Nader. This is one of the reasons she is dead.

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And this, after all, is all that matters — the preservation of the hierarchy of cancer. Is it not?
Otherwise, why would all of this Mafia nation squat on Mary Jo’s busted nosed grave? And elect her murderer President? And proceed with Fatima #3?
The United States of Mafia. Cancer in a flag and a [Unreadable ].
Goldberg (Sorenson’s Simon Rifkind partner) — on Law Day: “The constitution requires equal justice for all of us. That is what is written on the Supreme Court Building and that is what it is about.” Ah, yes — Mary Jo. Goldberg hired Chappaquiddick broad Newberg and sits on her mouth.
Sorenson, who bribed Nader for Onassis, Teddy and Dickie’s brief for Mafia Advertising against all TV stations: “Stifle [Unreadable ] regulation by the FTC. Go along with my clients — who pay [Unreadable ] to TV — or we’ll put you out of business.”
Reagan: “Shut down all Free Speech radio stations. They reveal too much.”
Congressman Moorehead: “Nixon leads an assault on press freedom of calculated deception and news management. He uses government for intimidation, naked legal power to stop the newspaper presses, grave harassment, legal action against legislators and publishers, and less direct methods of attack.” The injunction against the “Hughes Loan” is more than naked legal power. Dickie followed it up with a 20 man IRS team to Vegas to collect — for Onassis — all the loot pilfered from “Hughes” (i.e. John Meyer’s mining claims, skim by Lansky, etc.). Maheu still wants $50 million from “Hughes” for the assassinations — loyal service to that good Mafia group — FBI, CIA.
Brugmann — publisher of the Bay Guardian — advertises for volunteers to clean up the Mafia shit of San Francisco. He was one of those reporters Greenagel stated were working on the Alioto hit-run at the time of Chappaquiddick. Two years ago I told him if all this crud so that he could win a lawsuit. He disappeared. But still advertised for volunteers. He lost that lawsuit and he has two more. Two months ago — in a long phone conversation — I told him this crud again — so that he could win those suits. I offered him specific convicting evidence. His last words were, sadly, “I’ll see what I can do.” And then he disappeared again. His ad — for volunteers still runs. So does he.
James Reston, New York Times, threatened to publish the Pentagon Papers in his personal paper — “The Martha’s Vineyard Gazette.” Yet, he was

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[Atleast one missing page. This is a part of the first Nader letter in the files. Pages Six through Eleven are all labelled “Letter 24” in Roberts’ handwriting. Here, beginning text refers to the murder of Nancy Pelosi’s daughters in a fire. ]

watched. The court was adjourned the following day out of respect for the tired firefighters and attorneys and the three dead girls.)
Then in early July, 1969, pre information leak of the Alioto-Mafia story caused political consternation. Alioto and money backers tried to force Unruh to run for Senator, leaving Alioto a free shot at the Governor’s race (he had to get [Unreadable ] the law). But Ted Kennedy had friend John Tunney lined up for the Senator’s race and he blew his stack — that night at Chappaquiddick. Over the phone. several calls — incoming and outgoing. Mary Jo heard these. She had been with Bobby in L.A. She went through his papers after his death. She knew about JFK in Dallas. After those heated phone calls at the cottage she bolted from the cottage in total anger. That caused her death. Teddy didn’t dare try to rescue her. A forty year governmental, business, etc. conspiracy would have been exposed. Joseph P. Kennedy was a member. Those phone calls were the reason for the entire inquest cover-up.
The cover-up of JFK in Dallas — from the very top — was done for this same purpose — prevention of the disclosure of this same forty year conspiracy.
Nixon, Mitchell and Hoover all know this (through me — if not before). Those Alioto and Kennedy conspiracies were primarily conducted against me, since I, alone, wrote it all down — in book form — and sent copies out to various places in this country and to others. I even sent one copy to Alioto.
The reason for the bribe offers and the cover-up of the minor hit-run (pre-election, 1968) was that another event had happened to me, in April, 1967. That was an insurance fraud, by a woman (she jumped in front of my car). I beat the case. Later I found out that she had been paid anyway — by a group of insurance companies. I also found out that Chief of Police Cahill had buried the entire matter that I had turned over to him. Reason: it involved a huge insurance company, and corporation rackets, that went back and paralleled the other — one and only — same forty year conspiracy.
Those events happened to one who for ten years had been happily experimenting in the physics and chemistry of a group of

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minerals. In voluntary isolation, which is the only way I can really work. I had no political affiliations, hadn’t voted for fifteen or twenty years, didn’t care who was in or out, and wasn’t even sure we had a president. A couple of divorces, and all that stuff, but at least I was doing what I wanted to do.
At any rate, I’ve been watching your action and it looks pretty good to me. I read where General Motors had investigators watching you.
Move over. I’ve had Alioto hoods, Kennedy aides, the FBI, the CIA and a batch of others following me around like a conga line.
All wondering. It is known that I have spread my writings (dates, places, times, evidence — volumes about four phone books in size) out in different places. It is also known that almost everything is true and verified. What they don’t know is what I or my heirs are going to do.
And that is something special. And why I write to you. My action happens to parallel yours. I have the financing and the tools to get the job done. I will get it done. But yesterday on TV I witnessed your answer to the question, “In view of your certainty of conspiracy, what are you going to do about it — relative to elections and changes you have in mind?” Your Answer: “Nothing.”
That, of course, is up to you. However, I have the solution to your entire program. You are welcome to go over my entire file and use it as you see fit. I’m going to do exactly what I have planned to do, under any circumstances.
Don’t misunderstand me. I think you’re doing great. I’m not criticizing. I figure you’ll get it done, one way or another.
But I know things that you don’t know. The solution to your programs, for one thing. And now — not forty years from now. I’m fifty and I’ll be damned if I’m going to wait till the year 2000 just to correct one injustice.
For instance: A week before the recent Cambodia invasion, I submitted an ultimatum to Nixon, Mitchell and Hoover (same Republican theme). I proposed to use a traffic citation (minor offense) in order to blow the whistle on Teddy, Alioto, Onassis, a forty year conspiracy, same FCC, monopoly stuff here, and almost the entire list of injustices you are currently pursuing. I notified them that in the interest

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of getting the job done I had switched channels (a year and a half of inaction was wearing on my nerves), but that I proposed to bring it all out in that court — since that particular judge was running for election the higher court and that would automatically elect her. I also specified that a positive response to this ultimatum was required.
On April 28, 1970, I appeared in court. I was innocent, I thought, but I pleaded “guilty,” with the understanding that I could explain (the judge knew of my ultimatum).
“Please,” the judge said, :I want you to plead no contest, and this is wrong, and I dismiss this ticket, and next case.”
The judge lost the election and is now unemployed.
At the moment I appeared in that court — on April 28 — at that moment, Mr. Nixon issued the final decision to invade Cambodia. He had had my ultimatum for four days prior to that — four days in which all Republicans had told him — in horror — that it (the Cambodia invasion) was certain political ruination.
Mr. Nixon, you see, was in possession of political knowledge that the others were not. Had been in possession of it for a year and a half. Intends to use it. Or — as I wondered when I switched channels a long time ago — at least whatever part of it will benefit the Republican Party (not me, not the public, just them). Wherein lies their fear.
Since, so far, I alone have done this — possibly caused Nixon’s election in the first place (the 150,000 California vote switch that would have elected Humphrey . At least I silenced Alioto, Unruh and Humphrey in San Francisco) — did cause Alioto to bow out of the California Governor’s race — and will cause his removal from the Mayoral race (his new Mafia trial starts next month) — did cause Teddy to bow out of the 1972 Presidential election race — and will cause his removal from the Senate — have absolutely started the dissolution of the Democratic Party (they are deeply committed to the forty year conspiracy — way back through Joseph P. Kennedy and Onassis) — and herein lies their fear — it could effect the existence of the two party system (which includes Republicans), since, in that phony facade lurks the faults that you yourself so plainly see.
“Positive response is required,” said my ultimatum.
Two days after that “traffic court” hearing, two men appeared.

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They were Ed Sullivan (that’s his name) and his partner, whose name I don’t remember. They were written up in Reader’s Digest, I believe, about five years ago — a story about the top team on the FBI strike force.
At any rate, I knew them. They were very friendly, but somehow nervous and apologetic.
Finally the partner just blurted it out. “You have just been through the biggest con game in history.” That was supposed to be my response, since regulations require that no information be given out.
I said, “I know that. But, how did I do?”
He: “You’re,” pause, “okay.”
That’s it. They left. But what concerned me was the pause. Was he about to say “100% right,” or “90%,” or “screwed.”?
At any rate, to get to the point —
Legally, I live with my parents — an elderly couple who also respect you — at 1277 8th Ave, Apt. 206, OVI-6718. Actually , I spend nearly all my time in an apartment downtown, and answer the phone there only when my mother calls. It is my way of getting some work done.
I cannot leave San Francisco, because of what is happening and what will happen soon.
For your sake, you should read a copy of this entire affair. You can read it at my mother’s. Or in a conference room in a bank vault downtown. Or whatever you wish to do.
“Nothing,” as you said on TV. Or anything.
I regard this letter as a confidential matter between myself and you. All matters will be public soon. However, my plans relate to the timing of release.
Pre-knowledge is a powerful weapon. Check Mr. Nixon as he pondered the Cambodia invasion. Political power is a weapon. Money is a weapon. Communications access is a weapon. I have these things. I will use them. To the hilt.
As far as I can tell, I want the same things that you do. It just sounds right.
Or maybe you just like to read murder mysteries. If so, come on out and read the granddaddy of all. Mary Jo, John Tunney’s sister, Newsom’s nieces, Eugenie Niarchos, Yablonski family.
Assassinations? There have been a few. And they are

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related. Related to the forty year conspiracy — and its fringe developments.
Which is the reason I have the conga line behind me. And nothing to fear, really, since it’s more like I’m covered by an umbrella. Anyone with knowledge of this entire affair is completely safe.
Quite the contrary. I have never seen so many people so totally afraid of a few sheets of paper. And this goes from the local mayors through Congress and the Supreme Court and right at the tip to the presidency.

Bruce P. Roberts
1277 8th Ave., Apt. 206
San Francisco, Calif.

P.S. I just read this thing over, and let me correct an impression. The events listed here (Alioto, Kennedy, etc.) are minor.
The major import of this entire thing relates to much bigger things. Your field. Total reform. All sections. The forty year conspiracy is a cancer that has the entire socioeconomic lives of Americans locked onto a course of destruction. I’m sure you know this, but I’m also certain that you do not have the keys to the curing of the cancer.
I do.
For your information: Reading time of the main written sequence of events — about six hours. Study of evidence, affidavits, proof — one hour to one month. Verbal questioning (you will) — one hour to one month (or a year, if you choose to examine how it is that a finger of this cancer touches every phase of matters that I have noted you are interested in. i.e. the history of U.S. Leasing, from its formation in S.F. in 1957 to the recent attempted merger with Chase Manhattan, numbered bank accounts, the legal Mafia, insurance, lobbyists, etc., etc.
And one more interesting point. At this moment, I have employment for at least 500 attorneys — and their staffs — on a permanent basis — all collecting money from collectable lawsuits similar to yours against General Motors. The attorney who generates the publicity from the major fraud will probably be the next president of this country. These suits will all be in the public interest. The conspiracy was against me, primarily, for prevention of disclosure, and involves a list of thousands of individuals and groups. And it

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is in this light that I have a question for you:
Are most attorneys rotten because that is a basic requirement of nature in order to be one? Or, do they become rotten by the mere fact of joining the group?
Reminds me of “Which came first — the hen or the egg?”
I would respect your judgment on this matter. And you may consider that an application for legal council.
If, that is, there still remains an abstract affair called, as I recall, “Law and Order.”

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(Insert — first Nader letter)
About Feb. 14, 1972
The following pages, tape, film and documents contain proof of the three exposed keys to the destruction of the United States by the group known as MMORDIS.
1) The Alioto hit and run — Sept. 16, 1968, 10:45 p.m. at Franklin and Lombard Streets — the attempted cover-up of which elected Dickie to the presidency and exposed the real key: the Mafia Election Process.
2) An event that caused Chappaquiddick — because of the tempers and phone calls — from Tunney to Kennedy and back to Alioto about that very exposure of the Mafia election process — and the subsequent Inquest cover-up, total reason of which was to cover up those calls. The hiding of these by Loeb resulted in Hoffa’s release from prison. Chappaquiddick exposed the 1932 Joseph P. Kennedy-Onassis English booze and heroin importation into Boston, under the auspices of Franklin D. Roosevelt and Winston Churchill. That blackmail moved Onassis into the White House and #10 Downing Street. It moved Joseph P. Kennedy into the top ranks of legal looting — SEC swindling on up. It moved the Mafia three — Onassis, Kennedy and Roosevelt — to rig World War II — documents now released after twenty five years have finally certified this. Chappaquiddick exposed the entire Mafia election process — the assassinations by “IBM,” Iron Bobby Maheu — Robert A. Maheu — of JFK, Martin Luther King and Bobby — which led to
3) The exposure of the Onassis “Hughes” Mafia Money Funnel — which takes in all heroin, gambling, murder, SEC — whatever — loot — from all over the world, and washes it and sends it back by the billions to purchase presidents and all public officials — in the identical manner in which William Turner describes how Hoover’s Ex-FBI club does it by the Hoover blackmail files. It deals with Onassis calling Apalachin in 1957 to brief all state “families” in running their own state elections, and the nationals. And the Onassis “hyping” of Howard Hughes (by assistant “Cesar” Davis — now Chester Davis, in charge — and Johnny Meyer — now Onassis’ alter ego and Jackie’s “security”), and takeover of Hughes’ empire — and the purchase of V.P. Nixon — via a bribe from Dietrich — who warned Dickie of Treason if exposed, and recorded Dickie’s answer, “Fuck America. My family comes first.” The direct Onassis ownership of the U.S. via the Kennedys in 1960 — and this with hedge “bribes” to Dickie. Maheu’s CIA-ordered Castro assassination (aborted). The prompt Onassis-Vatican-Kennedy-Spellman “Holy Crusade” in Vietnam — for loot and heroin and church conversion. The resistance of Hoover’s club to the Onassis takeover. The assassinations — by Maheu — for Onassis. The creation of an Onassis’ Greece. The purchase of Nixon and Humphrey in 1968 by Onassis’ “Hughes.” The snatching of Jackie — by Onassis with Vatican aid. The murder of Mary Jo, on whose lid they all sit — Vatican and Mafia, and all groups. Hughes’ burial off Greece, April 18, 1971. The power struggle now — and the key: the fact that all bribery now accelerates to treason, and that is a hanging offense for all participants. Alioto on up, and on down.

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Dec. 2, 1971
To this group:
My proposition: To bring this entire matter out into the open in a giant “Knapp Commission” in the United Nations — sponsored by moral, human legal representation from all non-Mafia countries. Delineated by tape, film, personal appearance and volumes of evidence. Delineation — with deliberate withholding of certain evidential items, in order to stimulate 140 million partially decent American minds into individual investigative activity — with continual clues furnished to offer encouragement. Participation — the finest therapy.
There are many contributing factors to War and Crime. I do not know them all. I do believe I have listed the keys. I believe that an international race to clean up shit is preferable to an international race to blow it all to hell.
I believe Christ existed — that he was an exceptional man — and that he said and did those things. What was covered up — deleted — or altered — for the personal gain of the handmaidens — in the book that was finally issued — is perhaps the basis (the cover-up, that is) of War and Crime.
The Knapp Commission professes to be simply an open investigation. Not a criminal action. It did, in that manner, uncover total N.Y. Police corruption — i.e. cops selling heroin — for the public to see. Since it was minor — compared to, say, World War III — the Mafia-censored press allowed parts of it to be exposed. Why not? The Legal Mafia will cover it up and the Vatican Mafia will sanctify the cover-up.
I propose to focus world Non-Mafia Press and Legal exposure on the current United States Mafia Election Process — the exposed 1972 election campaign. It is a committed affair — and as readily visible as the concentrated geological strata of 2,000 years of Mafia time, exposed to all — along the “cliffs” of Chappaquiddick.
In 1776, an oppressed little band of Americans fought a huge tyranny — the same one — Religious Mafia Tyranny and English Political Tyranny — that caused the Reformation. They composed, in a matter of hours, a beautiful constitution — flawed by haste, but beautiful by intent. In two hundred years it was gulped by the Monster of the Pond — Poucha Pond — and the Mafia group that swallowed it there is the same group that crucified Christ — once more, Mafia Politics and Mafia Religion.
Today, the United States and world wide Mafia is the tyranny that is stomping in Vietnam. A complete reversal. I wish to expose that cancer — in my own country. I believe that exposure, alone, would lead to a world wide race to clean up shit — so that we can all continue to live. It is not a matter of one nation viciously facing another in a “National Interest” or a “Holy Crusade” (and there it is again — the same Mafia Political and Mafia Religious handmaiden coalition) holocaust — which today is international suicide. It is a matter of survival for all of us. You and I, for instance — as we sit here.

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Said a dissident CIA man to me recently: “It is too bad J.C. didn’t own a printing press. If he had, he might have beaten that crucifixion rap. And we wouldn’t be sitting on the edge of a shit pit.”
I believe that U.N. “Knapp Commission” could be that printing press. Other means are working. And I don’t care which way gets it done. I’m dead. But I completed arrangements to kill the cancer. Dead or alive.
Better alive, of course. Dead, it’s a bloody meat axe that can’t tell cancer from non-cancer. Russian from American, Chinese or Samoan.
Our Mafia has decreed — “death to any American who talks to any foreigner and says anything mean.”
I will discuss — in detail — suggested reforms with any human, any nationality, any place, any time. He must, of course, be a principal — positioned to be able to do something about it. He must be a non-Mafia. The conversation must be completely open to all non-Mafia national principals.
I offered Nixon the role of Abraham Lincoln — after I elected him.
You know his Mafia reply.
Anyone else care for the role? A wise man has stated: “Anyone who knows a way out of World War III has a duty to try to do just that. Anyone who blocks him is cancer.”
The subject is vast. But the answers are simple. You have scientists. Ask them. Any experiment — complex. But when solved, all is simple. “Why didn’t someone do this long ago?” there isn’t one successful scientist who hasn’t asked that question. Of himself. After he made the complex simple.
I will walk out this door as if I’ve never been here. And go about my own business. About which you can probably surmise. I know something about time. It is priceless. And fleeting.
Your move. As long as it follows the general pattern laid out here — necessarily brief — I, alone, will activate the entire procedure.
And, as the man said, “Anyone who blocks this is cancer.”
I would know that too, wouldn’t I?


P.S. I can understand the need for confidentiality in preparing a legal case of this nature. There is now precedent. Film, tape, form of presentation — timing — all would have a bearing. It must work. It is a one-shot affair. Were it not handled properly, and presented with its utmost shock value — suddenly — Fatima #3 would be here. What have they got to lose? They would be dead anyhow. This is a part of the philosophy that has sustained me. Massive CIA trickery — from tape to entrapment — has been tried on me.

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So far, I have stayed ahead of the game. I also have the feeling that some of them are counting on me to do the right thing. Otherwise I would never been allowed to walk through this door.
I know that you have noted a conciliatory U.S. attitude since I submitted the April 23, 1970 “ultimatum” to Nixon — that led him to take a chance on invading Cambodia. Or, more recently — open trade attempts — stimulated sharply by the Neilson conversations.
There is not one single national or international event that has not been effected be my efforts to expose, and the Mafia attempts to cover up, the Alioto hit-run cover-up on my car on Sept. 16, 1968 — 10:45 p.m. — corner of Franklin and Lombard.
The recent U.S. Intelligence shake-up (i.e. Pentagon Gayler to Iceland, and CIA Cushman to the jungles) was partially because of the abysmal underestimation by them of the totally dedicated effectiveness of my “tricks.” Basically, because of honesty. Something this group does not understand. When I first went to Nixon — then a candidate — in October, 1968, with papers and evidence, I emphasized lie detector verification of every word. They have been running ever since. I call it “the run of the rabbits.”
When I walk into a building (and I’ve been in many) and quote “Chappaquiddick” — everybody disappears. Once when this occurred I proceeded to shuffle through their files — copying Mafia information. Nobody stopped me. Nobody came back. And I finally got tired and left. I left a note saying “Thanks for the use of the files,” and signed it — and didn’t even hear from that.
All of the American leaders that I have approached have reacted this way. And I assume that those from foreign lands are not entirely free from personal motives, relative to personal gain.
Such thoughts — and the same underestimation — would be a grave mistake, in this case.
My motives are clean. My methods are dirtier than theirs — of necessity. A paper and a mineral jammed up the Mafia ass, around Sept. 16, 1968, assure this.
So, understanding the need for secrecy in preparing such a case — and its timing — I would request total honesty and total openness between the legal representatives of all the non-Mafia nations participating in the presentation of this case.
Starting now.
As the man on the cross once said: “The truth — why not let it all hang out? What’s wrong with it?” And, as I told Nixon, fighting crime can be more profitable than committing it — for everybody. He disagreed — for his own personal reasons. And he also burned his copy of the proof of that.

Page Sixteen

[Unreadable street address ]
Winsted, Connecticut

Nov. 25, 1971
On Sept. 27, 1971, I called Neilson-Green (private investigators who worked with Dick Carlson, Lance Brisson, Cooper-White, Look Magazine, Justice, CIA, etc., on preparing the Alioto Mafia Web story). I was looking for Dick Carlson, who has been running from me ever since the Mafia election process of 1968, when the Sept. 16, 1968, Alioto hit-run on my car frightened Humphrey and Muskie out of the area, brought about the six day before election “Peace — bombing halt” by Johnson, elected Nixon to the presidency and resulted in Chappaquiddick ten months later. (These things — long ago — were computer verified, including the FBI-Alioto-Mafia-Humphrey conversation at the 1968 Democratic nominating convention, where Alioto nominated Humphrey and was to be the V.P. candidate, in spite of his Mafia connections. Late switch, of course, to Muskie)
Local columnists mentioned that a CIA lid had gone on Carlson as of election day, 1968. The key, of course, is the Mafia Election Process — which owns both candidates — and the winner, of course, in any election. (In 1960, Joseph P. Kennedy, Onassis, The Vatican Mafia, both party Mafia, Legal Mafia, Press Mafia — all groups — moved into the White House. Immediately, Kennedy and Spellman invaded Vietnam. Immediately, Kennedy sent Cousins to Kruschev to get Cardinal Slipyi out of the jug for the Pope (he was in for Nazi collaboration — just as the entire Vatican hierarchy was at Auschwitz and elsewhere throughout the period). Vietnam was called by Spellman a “Holy Crusade.” Immediately, Iron Bob Maheu (Robert A. Maheu, to you) (this is the IBM that runs through all the later assassinations — Martin Luther King, Bobby Kennedy, and, of course, JFK) was sent to assassinate Castro — by the CIA, the hard core Mafia, and the Vatican. The Vatican wished to regain Cuba, while taking over Southeast Asia, consolidating Taiwan, and pitching for China (this, of course, was Fatima #2 — the conversion of all non-Vatican areas). The hard core Mafia (Onassis, Lansky, etc.) wanted the gambling back. Castro stole $8 billion from McLaney — Lansky’s man in Cuba — and McLaney went to Florida and set up the camp that helped to train Roselli and Big Jim and the rest that formed Maheu’s assassination crew. Maheu’s crew failed again on Nov. 1, 1963, when JFK canceled his Chicago trip. Onassis and the CIA nailed Diem and Nhu that day — but missed Archbishop Thuc, the third brother, who, as South Viet Roman Catholic prelate, had been recalled to Rome. Madame Nhu was valuable as a heroin courier link under the new man Thieu. On that day, JFK said to Jackie, “Get off Onassis’ yacht if you have to swim.”

Page Seventeen

On that day, a witness saw “the second Oswald” and two others and a gun, in a car in Chicago. After the Dallas affair (three weeks later), he told two people — Hampton and Clark — what he had seen, and he kept dinging at the Chicago FBI and CIA to take his information connecting the Chicago “Maheu crew” to Dallas. After about six months of refusal, the CIA invited him in one day — and he has not been seen since.
Hampton and Clark were murdered by Daley’s man, Hanrahan, in December, 1969, a few months after Chappaquiddick. The Hampton-Clark murder cover-up is well recorded.
Robert A. Maheu was well rewarded. By Onassis and the CIA. A half million a year for life, and sole charge of “Hughes” Vegas. Hughes was hyped in 1957, and Onassis took over the whole bit — empire, communications, defense contracts, all of it. Later, Hughes went into a cage on the island of Tinos, Greece (Onassis’ island), and was buried at sea there on April 16, 1971. Jean Peters obtained her “divorce” in early June. Chester Davis assumed “Hughes” in L.A. in 1957, utilizing “Hughes’ “ known eccentricities. It was an easy takeover. Just as easy as changing his name from “Ceasar” — as he was christened when born in Sicily — to Chester, after he arrived in New Jersey.
Soon, Maheu decided to take over on the strength of his blackmail — of everybody. He took charge in the “Hughes” TWA loss — and it was lost because no genuine signature could be produced. Maheu was called on to perform Martin Luther King — and he arranged it. Again, in 1968, he was called on to set up the hypnotic bit on Bobby. And in 1968, he was the one who bribed Nixon with $100 thousand (known, that is — actually more) cash contribution direct from skim money from “Hughes’ “ Silver Slipper, and some others. He also bribed Humphrey ($80 thousand, known) and Larry O’Brien (a PR deal — post election — worth about $50 thousand). Teddy visited Onassis’ yacht in August, 1968, and accepted Onassis’ terms on everything — including Jackie. On Sept. 16, 1968, Alioto clobbered my car — and opened up the can of worms on the key — the Mafia Election Process — which leads, of course, to all the assassinations, all the Mafia elections, and more important, to the Fatima #3 secret — namely, the blow-off of the non-Vatican half of the world — if they couldn’t be converted (which was Fatima secret #2), and of course, all of this is sanctioned by the realization that Fatima #1 came true (that one was World War II — rigged by Onassis, Joseph P. Kennedy and FDR. Hamilton Fish, Jeanette Barkin and a host of intellectuals will verify this for you. Or you can find it in an Onassis diary — which I purchased — a diary kept by the Turk whom Onassis sought to impress

Page Eighteen

as he strolled down the plank of his yacht in Turkey — a week after the aborted JFK murder in Chicago, a week after the successful murder of Catholic Mandarin Heroin Pusher Diem and his brother Nhu, a week after the Papal recall of the third brother, Archbishop Thuc — and this he did, with Jackie on his arm — a week after her hubby, President JFK, screamed at her — in public anger — “Get off that yacht, if you have to swim.” This diary goes back to Smyrna — and murder, heroin, the works, at age fourteen — and continues on through the 1932 Roosevelt (FDR and Elliot), Churchill (Winston and son), Joseph P. Kennedy and Onassis’ English Booze and Turkish Opium (refined into heroin at Marseilles) and cocaine from South America — a direct shot to Boston and New Orleans. It continues through Joseph P.’s SEC rigging, World War II, the Onassis ship rape (Chief Justice Burger sat in on this one), a few more wars, and up through early Oct., 1968 — still pre-election — and one month after the Alioto hit-run — when Jackie and Cardinal Cushing worked out an unbelievable confession, a marriage contract, and a deal with the Pope and the Vatican — and, of course, Chappaquiddick.
This entire Mafia group settled on my back on Sept. 16, 1968 — via Mafia Alioto (they reassembled again at Chappaquiddick). The first attorney I turned to was candidate Nixon, and his campaign manager, Mitchell. They were gleeful — until the election. Local Nixon hatchet men, Greenagel, Carlson, Best (northern California campaign manager) and Mack were gleeful — until the election. After the election — a partial loss of memory — all of them. After Chappaquiddick — a total loss of memory. Johnson went to see Nixon and said, “We hang together — or we hang separately. I got my message from the Pentagon on the plane back from Dallas. ‘No conspiracy.’ Then, ‘Cover it up.’ It was clear to me. I’d never get back to Washington if I didn’t obey, and that loyal Vatican McCormack, Speaker of the House, who had been dealing with the Mafia for years, would be president. And give my friend Conally the keys to the Treasury. I want one of my boys right at your elbow. He’s a good one. He learned his lesson. He has a Maheu bullet hole in his throat and fragments in his belly. And come one down and dedicate my memorial pyramid and tell them all how great I am.”
Chappaquiddick Dickie agreed. Since, prior to that chat, I had been to see Mack (lawyer for Bank of California) and Greenagel ( PR for Chamber of Commerce — who worked on this with Fred Martin, formerly in charge of Government Affairs for the Chamber, and now, quite naturally, up the ladder as PR for world headquarters of Bank of America). Three weeks after Chappaquiddick

Page Nineteen

that was, and I told them exactly what had happened. Mary Jo found Bobby’s papers of that chat, to Whelan — utter disgust — arriving at Chappaquiddick with knowledge of a new fiance and a parting message for Teddy, and the announcement of joining Nader. The phone calls and Terrible Tempered Teddy’s response — the savage argument — she walked toward the ferry in anger — Teddy, with a purse (Keogh’s), pulls up — in the back seat, angry — the run from the cop at the crossroads — at the bridge she grabs his right arm — car heads over — Teddy backhands her, breaks her nose, bails out — she goes in. She died of suffocation in the air bubble — because of the busted nose, her snorkel — while he ran back to the cottage, expecting the cop and planning to cry “accident.” He made it all the way — then to the motel for an alibi, more calls — on credit card — deliberate before murder [Unreadable ] murder had occurred — deliberate from motel for alibi (Gargan to take the rap).
At any rate, the CIA and the FBI were busy covering up. Best and Carlson I couldn’t find. Greenagel and Mack went into hiding. Nixon, Mitchell, Congressional “truth squads,” Reagan, Baer — all built a shield.
Long before the Aitken hearing (April 28, 1970) that caused Cambodia, massive papers had gone elsewhere (Greenagel burned all his copies — Mack lost all memory — Attorneys Wright, Belli, Lewis, and Davis couldn’t remember their own names).
You, Nader, took the bribe, $457,000, from Simon Rifkind (the last one to see Judge Crater alive) on behalf of Ted Sorenson from Teddy Kennedy, because of my first letter to you. You turned the letter over to Eddie Cox, Tricia’s husband, and he, of course, turned it over to Chappaquiddick Dickie, his pappy-in-law, the President. I publicly sent the letter, Aug. 11, 1970. Contents were out then. Aug. 15, 1970, the cash was in your hands. “Impossible,” everybody said. GM had sewed up forever. (“Impossible.” That was the word Teddy used about Chappaquiddick.) “Impossible,” said Fellmeth. “that I have never seen a copy of this.” (This was six months later, about Feb. 14, 1971.) “I get a copy of everything Nader gets. I don’t understand. I’ll ask him.” About the same date, I showed it to Harry Miller. Said he: “Nader doesn’t write letters.” Said I: “Mafia is murder, treason, bribery, conspiracy, cover-up. Is Nader Mafia?” Said Miller: “He is influenced by those around him.” Said I: “They seem to be largely Kennedy friends. Are they Mafia?” “I don’t know,” said Miller. Said I: “These evidential papers are poised for release in foreign countries. What do you think of that?” Said Miller: “That’s probably the thing to do.” He seemed perturbed. Poor boy. He was surrounded with bodyguards, beginning with Attorney General La Follette, when he appeared at the consumers’ union convention here, Oct. 8, 1971 — Remember, Ralphie, when you canceled your visit to start a third political party, a consumers’ coalition —

Page Twenty

because of a Mafia assassination threat against you?
At any rate, six weeks after Fellmeth expressed dismay at not being informed of the “Ted, Simon, Ted” bribe to you because of that letter, I talked to you again in St. Louis. Said he: “Nader admitted he had received your letter — and the ‘Ted, Simon, Ted’ cash and said he had turned it over for investigation.” Said I: “What about the investigation? What are you doing in St. Louis?” Said he: “My wife is having a baby here, with her parents. And I’m on my way to Washington. Nader wants me there. That’s where the action is, isn’t it?” Said I: “I don’t know. Is it?”
But I digress.
“Hughes.” In November, 1970, about three months after that letter obtained your $457 thousand bribe — a man came to see me. Noel Gayler (an Admiral, head of Defense Intelligence — Pentagon, to you). Polite conversation about how beautiful America is, but one definite question — “Which country would you like to go to?” And then anger, twice. Once he was asking about minerals and I used the word ‘smuggling’ — and he was angry, since this stuff, smuggled out, is dangerous — and more important yet, smuggled out, the knowledge of a mineral. And again when a friend of mine walked up and joined us. And she knew this entire bit. And she looked him over (and later asked me what it was all about and I told her) and then she left and I told him that was Senator Proxmire’s niece, and also related to Gaylord Nelson, and he mumbled something about “That’s the one that has the SST bottled up” and then I had to leave. He seemed puzzled. I wasn’t — and neither was Proxmire’s niece. Several seeks ago, this man went down the drain in Nixon’s Intelligence shuffle. Inefficiency, said Chappaquiddick Dickie, as he shifted over all Intelligence control to Diem-Kennedy Helms of the Vatican CIA (now cooperating with the Pope in the overthrow of seven South American countries — and running heroin from the Golden Triangle — and roaming 200 miles deep in Yunnan Province, searching for minerals), and Strangelove Kissinger — the hero of Peking, as you shall see.
But “Hughes.” A key to this, of course. The Mafia election process, defense contracts, the assassinations, communications control (satellites), gambling, dumping ground for any CIA or FBI that graduates from Hoover’s Fagin School (Maheu, Intertel, everywhere, even on the staff manipulating the “Look” cover-up — Handley — and he’s nervous). Ceasar Davis swindled Maheu out of his job and Maheu, of course, demanded a $50 million cash settlement from Onassis, his price for the assassinations (I refer to the fake kidnapping of “Hughes” from Vegas). Basically, to stir it up a little, Maheu tried to establish a “live” body in the Bahamas. That was to allow everybody

Page Twenty One

[Top line of text unreadable ]
onto the gory post — Chappaquiddick, assassinations [Rest of line unreadable ] the U.S. in 1960, even back through World War II, 1932, and back to the year 325, when Emperor Constantine made the first deal with the Pope — “You leave us alone, we leave you alone — we’ll cover your murders and ours by the legal Mafia, and you cover yours and ours in your confessionals — you loot from the souls, we’ll loot from the bodies.” But the “Justice Department” (that’s people like Texas Willie Wilson and Poucha Pond Mitchell) immediately issued a “leak” from an “authoritative source” — “Hughes is alive and well and healthy and happy and everything is normal.”
Well — what else can they do? Exposure of any of the myths bursts the entire shitty bubble. It is desperate and revolting. How about yourself, Nader? A dissident from the FBI told me recently that, in 1776, barefooted Americans stood on Concord Bridge, punching another tyranny with rusty muskets and pitchforks — whereas today’s breed gathers under Dyke Bridge to hold Mary Jo’s head in the pond and peddle heroin and bribes for the Mafia and the Vatican, while they in turn place a nuclear noose around the non-Mafia, non-Vatican half in order to conduct a mutually profitable blow-off and write a new constitution for the Pope, declaring him to be God. The other partner — Mafia branches such as the legal — to which you belong — have already rewritten (and reversed) our original constitution. How long has it been since laws against treason, bribery (you know about this one, Nader?), high crimes, conspiracy, and cover-up have been enforced as they were intended — as hanging offenses? Fatima #3 — coming up.
Why do you think relatives of the Merrymans and Eckersleys want to talk to me at 1170 Sacramento Street? (Those two names were two of the six “nursemaids” to Hughes. Merryman’s name was dropped from the list after “Hughes” Thanksgiving kidnapping. He died early this year.) I was there once and have no desire to go back. The group is related to Bechtel McCone, Parsons. McCone of the Kennedy-Diem CIA. Bechtel, the no. 1 defense engineering contractor. The building smells of Onassis and CIA. And a book on the wall is autographed by Spellman. The book is the autobiography of Spellman. He and Kennedy promoted the “Holy Crusade” in Vietnam. All of history has been a “holy crusade.”
Only a prelude, Ralphie. Fatima #3 is more necessary to blot it all out than was World War II for Roosevelt. But, two bishops at the recent Rome Synod carried pictures of Mary Jo in their tunics — instead of the Virgin Mary. I know them. They know the whole bit. Some people call that a crack in the wall. So, let’s take a look at a few more.

Page Twenty Two

So — Sept. 27, 1971 — Neilson-Green. Like Bannister in New Orleans in the stages of the JFK assassination, Neilson-Green is a CIA front. Currently an office for Carlson and Brisson in a Public Interest Project — investigating the San Francisco Dog Pound. Financed by $10 contributions from 100 people. Carlson and Brisson — President and Vice President.
I called, stating I knew Carlson and wanted to contribute a huge chunk of tax-free cash. “Goody, goody. But Carlson and Brisson aren’t available to you. Here’s a few names you can try.” I tried but they weren’t available. So, back to the secretary, Mary Pongales: “Do you run things for them?” “Yes.” “I’ll come down and see you.” “Well, here’s Mr. Neilson, you can talk to him.” “Mr. Neilson, I want to give you some cash — can I come down and bring it to you?” “Well, what time?” “I don’t know. Does it matter? If there’s nobody there I’ll push it under the door.” “Okay.”
They have a large staff (dog pound investigation is a deep subject) and I expected the joint to be closed — but Mary Pongales was there. Green and Neilson were in the next room while we talked.
“Mary, I arranged for Nader to receive $457,000 tax-free cash. I want to do the same for Dick Carlson. As much as he wants. By a stunt, following a hit-run on my car by Alioto on Sept. 16, 1968, I elected Nixon to the presidency. Carlson was in on it. But after the election he went into CIA hiding from me. I have spent years compiling lists of murderers, traitors, bribers, etc., and I know the names of all the Mafia, FBI, CIA, etc., and I have discovered that usually they are all one and the same. I have probably sent out more crud than J. Edgar Hoover has buried in his files. You know — murder, treason, high crimes, bribery, conspiracy, assassinations, and cover-ups. Names, dates, places, whys and hows. I am also careless. I leave papers lying around. Anyone can pick them up. These things get into the United Nations. I wish I weren’t so careless. And at the same time I was talking to Carlson — pre-election, 1968 — I was also talking to Reagan. On election day, Reagan developed a lapse of memory too. I like to think that Fellmeth — Nader’s boy — was doing me a favor when he recently released a report in California labeling the entire state government a Mafia cell. A kind of a reminder to Reagan that his treason had not been forgotten in participating in the cover-up of the Alioto hit-run, which exposed the real key — the Mafia election process — and led to Chappaquiddick — and, of course, that led to all the treason, bribery and murder since — and also back through the assassinations and the exposure of the entire Vatican Mafia, Legal Mafia, Press Mafia — all the Mafia branches — which currently squat on Mary Jo’s grave, in the same manner their antecedents did in the cover-up of Christ.”

Page Twenty Three

Mary: “Dick is unbelievable. He is working for a TV station in L.A. Brisson is in Washington on a foundation grant — studying our glorious Congress. But you can leave the cash money with me.”
Me: “I must hand it to Dick personally. I wish to establish that he is indeed worthy. A few questions, you know. After all, I said any amount. It isn’t limited to $457,000. You state that he is a skilled investigator. Probably, but I wish to determine if maybe he’d be interested in solving human murders instead of dog murders. He is, after all, an accessory to all murders, treason, bribery, high crimes committed since that hit-run on Sept. 16, 1968. They could all have been ended on that date — including Mary Jo Kopechne’s. the Cambodian invasion, Tunney’s sister’s husband, Newsom’s nieces, etc. And I am disappointed in Nader. He too could have stopped it all on about August 15, 1970, when he received his $457,000. Fellmeth failed to mention that particular Reagan lapse of memory about the Sept. 16,1968 hit-run — and that is the key — when he accused the entire State Government of California of being a Mafia cell. Look Magazine failed to mention it. The Justice Department failed to mention it as they prosecute Alioto far away in Washington, for a bribery practice that is practiced by all members of the Legal Mafia, the Press Mafia and the Vatican Mafia — and all the other groups that squat on Mary Jo’s busted beak. In fact, Reagan was so sure that it wouldn’t be mentioned, that he remarked that Nader reminded him of a “mouse trying to fuck an elephant.” And that is not obscene language, since our holy governor is the one who spoke it — just as holy President Johnson sanctified the phrase, “It is better to have J. Edgar Hoover inside the tent pissing out than outside the tent pissing in.”
Mary: “Oh, dear. How do I handle this?”
Me: “Well, you are a tough private eye, Mary. I have never met one before, but I’ve seen them on TV and I’m sure you’ll figure out something. Why don’t you write Dick a slow letter and tell him to contact me at mother’s. Here’s the address and phone number — although he knows it well. Slow, because that will give me time to sell more of my stones. You see, the first legal firm I went to, before the 1968 election, was that of Nixon and Mitchell — just candidates. After the election, they crawled into a hole with the rest of the Mafia (Mafia — Nader — however you spell it — is murder, treason, bribery, conspiracy, cover-up, etc.). After Chappaquiddick, they installed a lid over the hole and a padlock, and left all the Mafia branches to hide them — Legal, Press, Vatican, Pentagon, Insurance, Banking, Corporate, Multinational, etc. But I went to Nixon anyhow — through Mack — several days after the 1968 election –”


Page Twenty Four

[Possible missing page — Roberts now in conversation with John Mack ]

“Here’s an experimental mineral I’ve been working on. When the Mafia moved in on me the night Alioto clobbered my car, all work ceased. I had, however, discovered the dirty end of the stick. Now — I elected Nixon. So scratch my back. Give me Federal help to clean up this Mafia country.”
Mack: “I think we should discuss this mineral.”
Me: “I asked you for four people to help me in October, 1968, and I would hand you Alioto, and the Mafia, on a platter — before the election. You’re answer was silence. You have held this mineral in your hand. You are not dead. I have been playing with it for years. I am not dead. And yet you sense — and you know — some of the qualities involved in it. What I want is Federal help.”
(Two days later, Mitchell came to San Francisco with Vatican Mafia Bundy, a hero of Spellman’s Holy Crusade in Vietnam, for the Ford Foundation. They established the Alioto Crime Commission — a Mafia Commission, run by Alioto, which proved to be a perfect Mafia lid.)
I was sick — and the arrangements for the disposition of that mineral were completed — not the Mafia way — my way.
Chappaquiddick, Three weeks later, back to Nixon. “Here’s the solution and the Mafia purchase of the country in 1960, the assassinations, the whole bit. Get me lawyers and Justice to help me — and I’ll donate the entire proceeds of the lawsuits to the Justice Department.
Answer: “You’ll have to give me some time.”
I got time. I got total silence. The total Mafia CIA, FBI, Vatican, Legal clamp was on. Greenagel burned evidence. Best disappeared. Everybody took a hike. Attorneys. Judges. Everybody.
In August, after Chappaquiddick, Carlson’s Look story came out — a total Governmental Mafia frame to slap Alioto a bit, but avoid the key — the hit-run on my car that elected Nixon, exposed the Mafia election process, led directly to the assassinations and once more all the way back to the cover-up of Christ.
I was sick. I took a group of experimental rubies and sapphires to Mack.
“All right. I’ll do it myself. I elected Nixon. Scratch my back. Sell those for me. He can pick up the phone — Nixon, that is — and every Republican would buy one for his wife. At a fair price. I can have my money tomorrow. And I’ll have this Mafia country cleaned up in no time. All alone.”
He: “Okay.”
A year later, I stopped back in to pick up the group of minerals. They were still in his desk.
But, two weeks after I left them with him, I knew the only scratching of the back I would get from Nixon would be a stiletto. A Maf by the name of Lillo notified me too — in the Maurice Hotel — with witnesses — about the fate of the rest of my family. So, two weeks after I asked Mack to sell them (the stones), I took another group to the other Mafia party — The Democrats — and I offered them the same proposition. That door slammed quickly.

Page Twenty Five

I tried some private ones. And I discovered that I could not sell an item in high demand, in high scarcity — a ruby worth $1,000 — anywhere in America, for $10. Nor for $5. Or any price.
All right. Murder for the entire family. My parents, after three years of this, have aged twenty years. They have been expecting a Yablonski type shotgunning — or a Newsom type barbecue — or a Tunney type head hatchetting off. Actually it looks as if this Vatican-Legal Mafia group have settled on the CIA type of thing called “dying on the vine” — letting time hide — a la the JFK, Martin Luther, Bobby bits: Other types of pressure have been thrown in.
No law whatever. Every constitutional right suspended.
There’s more. But while Mack held those stones in purgatory — others were going out. To countries where they hate the Mafia. Some, I was mistaken about. But usually a question would come back from, say, an embassy — “Why? — Why try to sell us a ruby? America is begging for them.”
So I told them why. Everything. From Chappaquiddick both ways.
And the Mafia hating countries then seemed generous. For instance: “You ask for $1,000 for your stone. We feel its value is $3,500, American dollars. How would you like payment? We would like to purchase more of your wares, especially the whys. They are interesting. And it is true that most stones achieve a value because of their historical status. Did you realize that the very history you write about increases that value? Or that we too have lawyers of international repute who would be delighted to be of service on any basis you may desire? It would appear that you have suits for recovery that would blanket the world. We would be delighted to assist in any proposed mineralogical venture…”
(It was easy. To that country I later sold a piece of gravel that I picked up in front of Alioto’s City Hall for $2,500. I shipped it wrapped up in a few sheets of whys. Their view of the value of a “stone” rising with its historical interest proved to be true.)
My response to the $3,500 sale: “I don’t want the money. I wish to purchase information. Everything here is censored to me. But what is censored here is not censored there. What I wish to purchase with my $3,500 credit is evidence regarding the following matters (and I quoted them — and I received some answers).
You now know how it was that I purchased the Onassis diary. And facts about World War II. And tablet discoveries in the Middle East (hastily suppressed by the Vatican) proving the birth of Christ to be in April, his natural birth from a Persian father, his trial — by the Roman Mafia, and his crucifixion by the same, the gory history of the Vatican. Some of it verified what I already knew — for instance, from an ex-wife (correction, still legally married) who was the daughter of the French Consul to French Indo China at the time of Dien Bien Phu — and imprisoned in one of the early Hanoi Hiltons — a sad history of

Page Twenty Six

Vatican French colonialism and it’s tie with Onassis, Diem, the heroin from the Golden Triangle and the Taiwan piece of that action. (In fact, some of my stones came from that area, Nader smuggled, of course, along with the opium.) Turkey has always been a decoy. 80% of the stuff has always come from here. Once I mentioned to Mack (early this year after “Hughes” died and the Merrymans and Eckerslys invited me up to 1170 and the Bobby Kennedy murderer was named, and that of course, buried by the same group of Mary Jo Kopechne fame), that the only thing I had ever been 100% successful at was smuggling — say of papers or stones. He was perturbed at that, just as was Noel Gayler when I mentioned “smuggling,” because papers and stones had been going out and this horrible mob couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it . And just to illustrate the reason for their anger — 37 of the nations to whom I sold my stones, with whys, voted in the U.N. to oust Dictator Chiang — the dope pusher — and Roman Catholic Cardinal Lin, his handmaiden — these of course, being Taiwan — and they also voted for the admission of China.
(Incidentally, Nader, I don’t care for the people who say they represent you and ask me for tidbits of information. I don’t like your back-door methods. It stinks like CIA. And yet, I’ve seen my phrasing — some of that information — turn up later in foreign newspapers. It is not coincidental.)
— This, Nader, was approximately the end of my Sept. 27, 1971 conversation with Mary Pongales of the CIA firm of Neilson and Green, partners to Carlson and Brisson, whom are pawns of Nixon, Mitchell and all branches of Mafia, everywhere. At this writing I don’t remember if every word of this conversation — as described — actually went to Mary Pongales. All conversations and this conversation are recorded faithfully and in their proper sequence elsewhere and by various means — but whatever I didn’t mention to her got out to others — of the Gayler, Sullivan type — who occasionally pop out of the woodwork at me — like cockroaches. For instance, the following Saturday night, the son of the owner of Dr. Pepper, Houston — Clemens — asked me for various earfuls concerning IBM — that’s Robert A. Maheu, Onassis’ favorite assassination crew — and I was so tired (I was in the Mark Lobby, waiting for an Eckersley or Merryman to appear — they live just across the street at 1170 — Onassis’ building) that I might have recited a huge chunk from Hoover’s files, I don’t know, or care. It’s all true. As I said to Nixon and Mitchell — Oct., 1968 — I will repeat every word under pentothal, or lie tests, or hypnosis or anything else (part of that has been done already — I checked out). They, and everybody else, have been running ever since. I know, for instance, that you wouldn’t volunteer to a lie test — would you, Nader? Because you know and this monster group knows you know, I made sure they did (i.e., copies of everything to Alioto and Kennedy). You use it to call Reagan and Nixon “Mafia bastards” — and you watch them run. But you don’t use it on Kennedy — do you, Ralphie? And you run too — from me. Right, Ralphie?

Page Twenty Seven

And from assassinations, as we shall see.
Did you know, Ralphie — and I’m sure that you do — that Onassis owns General Motors? Did you know, Ralphie — and I’m sure that you do — that the $35 million skim that Lansky is accused of grabbing from Las Vegas — actually went to Onassis? Onassis, of course, is “Hughes.” Maheu — for “Hughes,” bribed Nixon in 1968, with $100,000 of that skim money. Same bribe to Humphrey — $80,000. Same bribe to Kennedy’s Larry O’Brien — $50,000. And so it is, Nader, that you accepted a $457,000 bribe — of that same skim money — from Onassis. Check with another member of your legal Mafia — Greg Bautzer. He represents only two clients: “Hughes” and Krikorian. Onassis buried “Hughes” and owns Krikorian — and you. How do you spell Mafia, Nader? John Maier ( and any of his aliases: Meyer, Meier, Andre…) works for two — Onassis and “Hughes” — and oversees Jackie. Only the Mafia runs from me (I control the means of their extermination. You realize this, by now — or you wouldn’t be running from me).
That was on Sept. 27, 1971, when I talked to Mary Pongales. On Sept. 30, my father took a call from L.A. — a voice that stated it was Dick Carlson. I, of course, was not there. My father notified this voice that I would be there to take a call at 10:a.m. the following morning. The voice — and I assume it was Carlson — asked if I was some kind of a lawyer working with Nader — and my father answered that all he could say was that I provided cash for people like Nader — or Carlson — and why didn’t he call back at 10:a.m. the following morning to find out.
At 10:a.m. the next day — Oct. 1 — I was waiting for the call from Carlson that meant all the cash he needed. No call, of course. So at noon I called Mary Pongales and she said that Dick Carson had called her at 10:a.m. and notified her that he had called me. I congratulated her on a major breakthrough — that I hadn’t been able to get through to Carlson for three years — ever since the Mafia election of 1968 — and that she deserved a reward and would she be there that afternoon so that I could bring her cash and she said yes — she would be there all afternoon — had nothing to do but wait for me.
At 2:p.m. I was there and another secretary ushered me in to Neilson. “I came to see Mary Pongales.” He: “She’s gone and she won’t be back. What can I do for you?” “I wish to reward Mary for doing the impossible — actually contacting Dick Carlson. It’s a miracle. I was thinking of giving her that building at 1170 Sacramento Street. “ can do this — and you know I can. If she wants to give it to you, you would have plush 11 floors, or 18, or whatever it is on the top of the hill instead of sitting here in Mafia North Beach under the wings of Alioto’s St. Paul’s in this dinky pad.” He, changing the subject: “Dick Carlson is easy to reach. I talk to him every day. He’s at such and such a TV station in L.A.” Me: “Let’s see — isn’t that

Page Twenty Eight

owned by Sarnoff — Roosevelt’s and Joseph P. Kennedy’s friend — the keeper of BMEWS — one of the bigger con artists who conned Kruschev in that 1959 meeting with the “real owners of America.” Oh yes, several key witnesses to that Alioto hit-run have since disappeared into the maw of that TV station. I guess they like to be together.” He, changing the subject: “Do you know Lance Brisson?” Me: “I know details — lots of details — such as Brisson’s father and Strangelove Kissinger making the rounds of the night spots. I know Carlson’s relative was a senator from Massachusetts and we know about Massachusetts Senators, don’t we?” He, changing the subject: “Well, that’s the only way to reach Carlson — phone the TV station.” Me: “No, I’d rather do it through Mary Pongales. She performed a service — miracle — she actually got through to Carlson and she will probably be murdered. All secretaries who learn this type of information usually are. I want her to have her place in history — such as all presidents desire — and I have a way of arranging this. I have sent her a letter assuring her of this. She will receive it. It is now on its way around the world picking up endorsements.” He: silence. Me: “Carlson doesn’t have to scrounge for 10 bucks from people. I’ll give him the Howard Hughes Empire and he can prosecute dog pounds in luxury from Las Vegas. Assassins Maheu, Ceasar Davis and Onassis aren’t going to need these things where they’re going. Neither will I. But that way Carlson can kill the big dog murderers. That’s China. They kill dogs there and serve them for dinner. He can use Lockheed and Bechtel and the ‘Hughes’ satellites — all owned by Onassis — and lob in a few missiles and murder all 800 million of the Chinese dog murderers, and lob a few at Russia and clobber them. And that way, he gets a bonus from the Pope — who has declared himself to be God — in the form of a medal for completing Fatima #3. And he can win a Pulitzer prize for exposing the Maheu assassination crew — names, dates, places — all the way from Castro through Dallas, Memphis and L.A. I think these things are better than, say, the Russians and the Chinese blotting out the 500 million ‘Soldiers of the Vatican’ and the 20 million world Mafia (the greatest share of these running the Mafia in the U.S.) — and then all of the billion Russian and Chinese men and women going to bed one night and repopulating the cancerous crud with fresh, new humans. Brand new, non-cancerous, non-Mafia humans. Maybe the man hanging on the cross for two thousand years — placed there by the same Mafia cancer — would appreciate this. Mary Jo Kopechne would, I’m sure. One night replacement orgy. Replacing malignant cancer. Would that be a better ‘Holy Crusade’ than the Kennedy-Spellman Vietnam Holy Crusade? Problems, problems. But the real problem is this — In China they have a phrase: ‘Chappaquiddick Big Dickie, Chappaquiddick Little Dickie, and Chappaquiddick Alioto.’

Page Twenty Nine

I know, of course, who ‘Chappaquiddick Big Dickie’ is, and ‘Chappaquiddick Alioto,’ but when I learned of ‘Chappaquiddick Little Dickie’ being in the group I was reminded of our Dick Carlson and our 1968 pre-election chats, and I remembered that Reagan had received his reminder of his part in that 1968 Mafia election and cover-up (a la Fellmeth), (and, incidentally, that I had also assured Reagan of his reelection — since Alioto would surely have beaten him — had Alioto not backed off because of Chappaquiddick and assorted Mafia exposure) — but that ‘Chappaquiddick Little Dickie’ needed a little reminder and so I decided to assist him with that cash in his dog pound investigation. We’ve got to get ‘Chappaquiddick Little Dickie,’ our mutual friend and partner, off that list — don’t we, Neilson?”
He looked somewhat like Hugh Scott, “Chappaquiddick Big Dickie’s” Senate whip: silence. Only “blink, blink,” of the eyes. It is a known fact that CIA murderers and Private Eyes don’t blink their eyes. But he did. He looked like a frog. I expected him to go “Bleep.” He didn’t. Just “blink, blink.” And if you have ever tried to conduct a conversation with a human being whose sole response is a batting of the eyes, you would do exactly as I did: I left.
In that entire joint, Mary Pongales was the only one who didn’t have the Chappaquiddick brood stench. Some emotion, at least — “oh dear, how do I handle this?” Poor little girl. She’s deader than hell. She’s much like Mary Jo. I hope she doesn’t get the same slow, busted nose, suffocation bit that Mary Jo did. It took the Roman Mafia about six hours to suffocate Christ. During the Inquisition, the Popes read the litany of Ignatius Loyolas to their barbecues — while they suffocated. Diem Nhu and Lodge and the Vatican appreciated those Buddhist barbecues in Vietnam. Recently the entire Alioto Mafia Trial jury — plus attorneys and judges — stood around and enjoyed the barbecue of Newsom’s nieces — Pelosi’s daughters. Pelosi, of course, was elected President of the Board Of Supervisors. Newsom, Pelosi’s brother-in-law, was in on the 1968 Mafia cover-up and election — joined Onassis after Chappaquiddick. Pelosi’s in-laws are the D’Allesandros, who own Baltimore. Pelosi’s godfather is Alioto. Oh, well.
Once more, at this writing, I don’t know that everything quote here was actually spoken at that Neilson blink blink. Most of it was, and it is duly recorded elsewhere. The rest came out to others of his staff during that period — so I know it was received — dead center in the Strangelove Kissinger- “Chappaquiddick Big Dickie” and “Little Dickie” ear. The key was the reference to the Chinese phrase: “Chappaquiddick Big Dickie, Chappaquiddick Little Dickie and Chappaquiddick Alioto.”
Projection from this, Nader: Five days after that Chinese phrase-Neilson conversation — Kissinger announced a sudden second trip to Peking to “check” the “agenda” of the forthcoming Nixon-Chow talks.

Page Thirty

Kissinger was still there — in Peking — on voting day in the U.N., on Taiwan’s ouster and China’s admission. That fact alone cost him the votes of six countries — and ousted dope pushing dictator Chiang and his handmaiden, Vatican Cardinal Lin. All 37 countries who bought my stones and whys voted against Taiwan and for China. Vatican mouth Buckley organized a group to cut off all U.N. funds. Mafia Congress shut off all foreign aid (later relented — realizing Mafia purchase was their only remaining hope). Taiwan briber, George Murphy — a Senator beaten by Tunney because the Chappaquiddick lid was on him, too — and he knew the entire bit — took a financial loss. What good is a briber who can’t effectively bribe? Chiang is ruthless with his Mafia loot: produce or else.
Mafia Congress, the Mafia press and the legal Mafia now announce that they are out to destroy the U.N. Wipe it out. This, after years of using it to promote governmental Mafia and Vatican Mafia interests. The fear is that the U.N. will become a giant Knapp Commission type of thing — public inquiry into everything — Chappaquiddick, the assassinations, the cover-up of Christ — with nothing like the American Mafia legal methods of legal omerta — secrecy at all levels, grand juries on up.
Absolutely anything — no holds barred — to prevent the exposure of Chappaquiddick and what it leads to — and cover-up the Mafia election process exposed by the Alioto hit-run — which makes it all possible. Including first strike = Fatima #3 — to blot it all out (Roosevelt’s reason for War II).
The U.N. delving into the root causes of all wars, all crime, the Vatican cover-up of Christ — into the prevention of War III — this would never do.
Your purchase, Nader? Minor. Ma and Pa Kopechne’s purchase? “We don’t care if she was murdered, we’re satisfied.” (Ah, the power of this monstrous Vatican-Mafia handmaiden group). The JFK mass murders for cover-up? Minor. Some with King and Bobby. Destruction of the U.N.? Minor.
Backed with massive evidence — and run through a computer — it all checks, Nader. Non-Mafia Countries have done this. Non-Mafia “lawyers” are developing a mass international Knapp Commission — hoping to beat Fatima #3 — or perhaps pull a first strike themselves and bring out the papers later to justify their actions. And they would be justified. Today the CIA and the Vatican openly announce revolt support for seven South American countries. They run 200 miles deep into Yunnan province looking for a mineral. “Chappaquiddick Dickie” will never relinquish control of Indo-China — however it is settled — for that same mineralogical reason. Nor will he cease providing money to Onassis — through Pepper or however —

Page Thirty One

Lockheed, “Hughes,” GM — anywhere Onassis and Mafia aliases own the stock. How can he? He took the same Onassis bribe that you did. And he has one huge monkey on his back — Johnson enlightened just after Chappaquiddick: “Hang together — or hang separately. We Must preserve our places in history — along with the Onassis-Kennedys, the Prendergast-Trumans and the Onassis-Kennedy-Roosevelts. We’ve come a long way with those ‘Holy Crusade’ wars and we can have it all with one more hump: Fatima #3. Send Lodge to the Vatican, Dallas bullet Connally to the Treasury and fuck the Supreme Court — boost Hoover’s Catholic boys (so described by Mike Novacs) and support the Pope and the K of C — and keep Hoover inside that tent, pissing out.”
Dickie listened and obeyed. But he also listens to Neilson conversations — and crawls on his belly to Chow and Brezhnev. With reason, they are not stupid. China can have that mineral tomorrow — if they do the right thing. Without going through the lengthy process of developing it in the laboratory. Geological logic suggests it also exists in Russia, and that’s bad news for everybody. One misplaced missile would really jazz this joint up. Or one deliberate missile.
One — only — missile crew. One finger on one button. Ask any Maf and they’ll tell you that you can always find someone you can buy, or hype or frighten. Any one human can do this, Nader. Just one. I told Mack — several days after Nixon’s inauguration — that one human can do what an army can’t. He was holding a mineral in his hand when I said this and he said, “It’s heavier than lead.” True. Much heavier than lead. And in a stable field. Last Christmas, Gayler — from the Pentagon — was curious about this, and I told him, in my own way, that its natural occurrence in this country was doubtful. And then I mentioned “smuggling” and he blew his top.
The U.S. Mafia luck has run out, Nader. You’ve picked a losing side. Kennedy and Chappaquiddick — like a snowball rolling down a hill — has picked up the kindred Mafia — including you and Chappaquiddick Dickie — in one huge glob and we’re all rolling down a tube. In 1849 California gold put the U.S. out in front of the world. Today, a key mineral is not available here. It is not available to the Mafia. I naively offered it to Nixon on Feb. 1, 1969, in exchange for clean-up of cancer. On Feb. 4, I received the second of six hit-runs on my car. This time I was in it. His own cover-up was more important. Three weeks after Chappaquiddick I again offered Nixon my individual solution to the clean-up of cancer — and added the offer of money from suits to accomplish it. I told Mack (this is on tape) “Nixon can be another Abraham Lincoln and take credit for leading this country out of slavery — Mafia slavery.” Zilch. Johnson was making his spiel to Dickie at the same time.
Currently, Nader, non-Mafia countries are eager to assume the Abraham

Page Thirty Two

Lincoln note, and they gain confidence from minerals and papers. And they begin to realize their power, and they make it known.
I told someone that I had given you an infusion of guts — via information, blackmail to you — which enabled you to label Reagan and California and Nixon and America “Mafia” with impunity. You — as Dickie, were converted — by bribery — and seek subterfuge in a society of Legal Mafia. You want $10,000, I believe. The three chief Mafia groups that could have exposed this crud at any time are Legal Mafia, Press Mafia and Vatican Mafia. You now nibble at the edges — currying the 40 million “consumer votes.” Your allies are the Legal, Press and Vatican Mafia, and you cooperate with them. They cooperate with you. Ever Mafia — give up a little — to preserve the keys — the Mafia election process, the Mafia press to cover it up, and the Mafia Vatican to make it holy.
I told Mack in May, this year, that America appeared too puny to rise up out of its own Mafia shit. He shrugged. I asked him what he had done — as anyone in any public position could have done in the past 47 years (coincidental with Hoover’s reign — Hoover, Joseph P. Kennedy’s friend) to correct this shit. He shrugged.
I shrugged too. His bank has a piece of the Lockheed loan — helped push through the next $250 million loan. His bank has $12 million of Alioto interest-free city money.
Again, in July this year, I needled Mack again (Background: “Hughes” death, April 16, Jean Peters “divorce,” late May, Mayheu’s’ $50 million suit of “Hughes” — settlement for assassinations — around June, The anniversary of Chappaquiddick, Ellsberg’s papers on the Pentagon — particularly some reference to the Diem murder, Charach’s Bobby murder expose and its cover-up, and when these things were boiling, the appearance of “Hughes” Merrymans and Eckersleys — “Come up and see us at 1170,” and more, such as this one — “Hughes” Merryman’s brother was at the Bohemian Grove — Dickie was scheduled to speak there, and a Humphrey type — 1968 election, S.F. — expose was arranged, and Dickie called — “fear of newsman’s questions,” was Ziegler’s explanation, and he was right — those questions were loaded. I found some news people who still possessed a few drops of original, American blood.).
At any rate, I called. “Mafia or not, Mack, it’s your country ,too, and this is too much. The New York Times, the Press Mafia, did it again — as with the Llellyveld cover-up of the Loeb, Manchester Union Leader, Chappaquiddick phone call records — they deleted the fact that Vietnam was a religious war, a Holy Crusade a la Fatima #2. Also that it was a dope war for Onassis and the CIA and all the other Mafia branches. I knew of the Onassis heroin Vietnam connection long ago, via the back door, through my own stone exportation and my ex-wife — who was there. I just had never assembled the facts. When Alioto clobbered me on Sept. 16, 1968, I was highly sensitive

Page Thirty Three

because of experiments which I believed to be the most important thing in the world, I assessed that hit-run and my stones and Onassis’ Vietnam heroin and the dual Kennedy-Diem murder date and my experiments all to be rolled up in that mess together. I was wrong. The hit-run was pure accident. But, under that momentary version I sent all the facts out immediately — all the way out, where they would be safe. And in those I was correct. Evidence has proven it all — 100%. That’s too massive to charge to be coincidence. I did this in sheer defense. I jammed those papers and that mineral deep up the collective Mafia ass and held a cable on the pin of that type of grenade. There is no way of recall. Unless the entire shit mess is voluntarily cleaned up now in America you can expect to be combing missiles out of your hair at the same time you get a mineral goose up your ass. That would make a meat sandwich out of you. And me. And all the rest of us. I don’t know everything but I have a feeling the man wants off the cross and I know Mary Jo wants out of her busted nose grave. She’s gotta be sick of staring up into the Pope’s asshole, and Kennedys, and the rest of the Mafia assholes that squat on her grave — in total Mafia handmaiden hypocrisy — and I don’t think she cares much how she gets out. In fact, we all go — sometime. A lifetime isn’t even a speck on geological time. Eternity is the thing. I’m not religious, but I know this — whatever is up there is a friend of mine. If I reach out a hand for a rock to throw I find it. You held one of them in your hand. And some papers. You asked me what I wanted, once. I guess what I want is the no. 2 position in that eternity bit. I’ve been assured I’m going. And I want to be there to slot the rest of you Mafia bastards in your proper slots for eternity. I know exactly where to place cancer. Just as I know what to do with it here. The Hippocratic oath: “Kill Cancer” — 100% human approval. One of the deleted amendments: “Kill Cancer.” His last words on the cross — deleted, of course: “Murderers on the cross, not me.” If we all survive, there’s going to be a new President and a new Attorney General — and the key is that Attorney General. He is the meanest son-of-a-bitch in the world. He wants all the Mafia cancer on crosses — beginning with the Pope. There’s a switch: Christ off and the Pope on. Let him hang there for the next two thousand years. And instead of a skinny spear-stuck skeleton saying “Turn the other cheek — Allow the Mafia cancer to murder you as they did me — it’s holy. Listen to the Pope — he is God — and infallible and he has written a new constitution to prove it,” we’d have a new image of a healthy doctor with a healthy scalpel, cutting out a malignant cancer from 80% Mafia cancer body that is currently a mortal cinch to die from the disease.
Mack: “Would it do any good if I arranged for you to talk to Mitchell?”
Me: “Mitchell! That Mafia son-of-a-bitch…” And I was thinking: How could Mitchell do that to me? He’s got one foot up my ass, one on my back, one foot

Page Thirty Four

down my throat and the other pounding away any way he can. And him I elected (Doesn’t pay to do any favors — for Mafia — does it, Nader? You of the Onassis bribe which I arranged for you), but I said: “I don’t know.” (then I was thinking: Why not? — needles are for lesser assholes, like Mack and Neilson. For people like Mitchell I’ve got harpoons.).
Mack: “Well, tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
Me: “I know what to do. The question is — who for?”
Mack: “Think about it and call me tomorrow.”
Me: “Onassis wants to talk to me. I get this from Mrs. Merryman’s sister in law to “Hughes” Merryman. Do you know anything about that?”
Mack: “No.”
Me: “They want me to do this at Eckersley’s place — same building — he’s one of the surviving five ‘Hughes’ nursemaids.”
Mack: “What’s the address?”
Me: “1170 Sacramento Street.”
Mack: “Good-bye.”
The next day I had a huge harpoon ready for Mitchell and I called Mack. I forget the exact words (they are noted elsewhere), but the message was clear — “Mr. Mack’s phone lines will be tied up for the next few centuries. He is no longer available.”
I haven’t checked back since. Maybe he’s dead. It wouldn’t surprise me.
Back to that Neilson chat on Oct. 1, 1971. Afterwards I went to the Alexis — across the street from 1170 — and repeated what I had told Neilson to friends — and anybody else who cared to listen. In addition, I labeled the son-of-a-bitch who had notified the Chinese of all this shit a son-of-a-bitch. And I carefully explained why it was that the Chinese have the phrase “Chappaquiddick Big Dickie, Chappaquiddick Little Dickie, and Chappaquiddick Alioto.” I expanded somewhat on the Pope’s ass on Mary Jo’s grave. I couldn’t stir up anything. But Strangelove got an earful. I explained how it was that after Kissinger’s first secret trip to Peking in July a Mexican reporter interviewed Chow-En-Lai and found Chow full of strange, mischievous statements, such as: “JFK’s assassination facts have not been released”, ”Chappaquiddick has not been explained” and “Bobby’s murder was strange.” I explained why it was that such things would not be printed by the American Press Mafia — such as Kennedy’s Hearst, or Alioto’s De Thieriat, or Look or Kennedy’s New York Times, etc. — nor would they be recounted by Strangelove Kissinger. (Actually, the Mexican report only got out by chance.) So across the street to the Mark Lobby bar where Dr. Peppers Clemens joined me and wanted to know about assassinations and IBM and Chappaquiddick and Hoover’s files — and I told him. He interrupted me once to state: “That’s all true,” and I said “I’m glad you think so,

Page Thirty Five

because I spent some time with Blinky Neilson today and his total response was blink, blink — and no bleep to go with it — and I notice you blink quite a bit and I was really wondering whether you were frog or human. I’m glad you made it.” So I proceeded to quote some tidbits about the various Mafia state ownership — such as Marcello’s Louisiana (Ellender, Boggs, Hubert, Long, McKeithon, etc.), Kennedy’s New Jersey, Massachusetts and Illinois, Fellmeth’s California, and on and on — and the bar closed so Clemens and five Texas friends gathered at a table and they asked me over and I proceeded to enlighten these loyal Texans on the rottenest state of all — Texas — and I went through Willie Wilson, Mitchell’s crime leader, and the Guv, Lt. Guv, Insurance Banking, Connally, the Mafia’s back room groups — and finally when I couldn’t stir up anything and they were getting sadder and I was getting hoarser, I said good night and walked over to the door and one of them shouted “That was the smartest thing you ever did in your life,” and I said “Yes, I think so,” and I left with the feeling he was human — not a frog — and that he would be proud if he knew some other stunts currently underway — some against his own state.
I bought a bottle of Dr. Pepper in a store and while I drank it I thought back to early August (I think) this year, when I went to Derrough, CBS, checking on the press Mafia at the time Stanton was under contempt of Congress for producing “The Selling Of The Pentagon.” Derrough had read the first paragraph describing — concisely — the murder of Mary Jo and Alioto’s connection — when he quickly handed the papers back. So I told him about the assassination series of Maheu — about Ellsberg — and the Nader bribe — (all in a few quick minutes) and suddenly he “Had to be elsewhere for a sudden conference.” He would “call me later.”
Yes. Donchaknow.
At any rate, an hour later Christopher Beam pounced on me. From San Clemente. He went at it right. Said he: “I know all elected officials commit treason when they take their oath of office — ‘Defend the Constitution from enemies without and within.’ I know that they have taken bribes to get where they are — and joined the Mafia by accepting candidacy — as lawyers do the moment they are accepted as ‘officers of the court.’ Like the Vatican — they are their own gods — write their own laws. Now, what happened at CBS?”
I told him. And also about the computer-confirmed Mafia 1968 election in which I elected Nixon. And he mentioned Dick Sprague — of the assassination Investigation Squad. And I called Mrs. Merryman and said I’d be up at Alexis and then I asked him to come with me to meet Mr. Mafia. (All the labor hoods were in town plotting Alioto’s reelection campaign and I somehow expected Onassis to be at the 1170 Merryman dinner). Alexis was closed so we went to the lobby bar of the Mark. I told him that leaders of Non-Mafia countries and Nixon and Mitchell had read the entire script of things but Derrough of CBS was too frightened to read Nader’s bribe letter. He said he wasn’t.

Page Thirty Six

So he read it and again he said the right things: “I don’t think so much of Nader anymore. He changed.” That was true. Mafia bribes work that way. Again: “You don’t mention IBM much in your works.” Me: “Only to those I want to know.” He: “IBM is important.” Me: “Only for assassinations!” He: “I’m a Catholic.” Me: “So, what? The cancer is only at the top. The Protestants have it too. The Reformation was a bust.” He: “What’s to happen?” Me: “Christ wants off the cross. Cancer is going up. Mary Jo wants out of the grave. We need the grave space for cancer.” He: “I like Johnson.” Me: “He was purchased outright on the plane to Dallas. But he has no excuse. Eisenhower did. By the time Eisenhower knew he was trapped, it was too late. He cried on Russell’s shoulder and died sad. Russell covered up for JFK and he too died sad — issuing his deathbed statement: ‘Oswald didn’t do it.’ The only honest thing Johnson ever did was to publicly speak those same words: ‘Oswald didn’t do it.’ That’s probably why you like him.” He: ”There is one good man in Texas. You should meet him. You probably will.” And he paid the check and left.
So, as I drank my bottle of Dr. Pepper that night after leaving that Texas group, I wondered if perhaps I had met the man of whom Beam spoke. He did invite me down to Texas to stay at his place — and not many people choose to hold my hand these days. That’s a dangerous place to be, next to me — right, Nader? As we shall see, you canceled a San Francisco visit recently — an important visit, to you, since it involved the coalescence of your consumer third party. You did this because of me, didn’t you, Ralphie?
You will never have to take a lie test, Nader. A seventeen year experiment in hypnosis — in a non-Mafia country has proven out. Accident, six witnesses, all with partial evidence, all differing — on the day of the accident. Ten years later — under hypnosis — all five (one had died) produced full evidence, all agreeing. Conclusion: the human mind is a camera and a computer. Freed from emotional interference and intentional cover-up, the recall picture is full, free and complete. Censorship? In the United States — complete. Any Chappaquiddick broad — and Maf — would blow the entire shit bubble (I like that one — it fits so good into the Alioto hit-run cover-up picture on Sept. 16, 1968 — currently listed at the Hall of Justice — in a loose leaf book — under the name of Hollister — and a federal “no-see” order to anyone but me. I can look at it all I want to, I guess, unless it gets lost, of course).
I just checked — that Neilson chat was on a Friday, Oct. 1, 1971. You were due to appear at this major consumer coalition on the 8th. So on Monday, Oct. 4th, I called Harry Miller’s secretary (answering service) and said: “Look, I’ve been waiting for Miller to call. He hasn’t. It’s about life and death — his, for one. He helped write the Fellmeth “California is Mafia” report, and I have reason to believe that he, Fellmeth and Nader are to be assassinated this weekend because of nasty remarks about big Mafia people. This weekend is to be the formation of a political threat

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to the other two Mafia parties. Fellmeth, Nader and Miller know about Iron Bobby Maheu’s assassinations — about Chappaquiddick. Martin Luther King and Bobby were murdered because of their potential political threat — Bobby for “The Enemy Within” thing, plus his hatred for the group for murdering his brother, Martin Luther because he represented reform. The Yablonski’s got it because they were jabbing at the Union Mafia. Pre-knowledge could have prevented any of those murders — plus Mary Jo’s. Now be sure that he gets this message. Have him call me. Maybe we can prevent these murders.”
She: “I gave him your messages.”
Later, I called again.
Said she: “He said he’d call you.”
Later, I called again. “Give him the message again.”
Said she: “I can’t. He’s out of town and I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
So I called Neilson-Green.
“This is Roberts. Is Mary Pongales there?”
“Ugh — no.”
“I can’t seem to get through to Carlson to give him money, and now I can’t get through to Mary Pongales. Is she dead?”
Her: “No, she’s around somewhere, but she’s not available.”
Me: “Well, who are you?”
She: “Pat Gonzales.”
Me: “Can you take a message for everybody there?”
She: “Ugh, yes.”
Me: “Tell Neilson he can personally have all of the $12.5 million Alioto is suing Look Magazine for because of the Carlson-CIA-Nixon-FBI-Alioto-Mafia web story. I will give it to him. I can raise it to $50 million that assassin Maheu wants from Onassis. I have offered Alioto a clean victory in that suit — it was deliberate evasive persecution to attempt to avoid the exposure of the Alioto hit-run cover-up that led to Nixon’s election in an exposed Mafia election process. He can beat the federal rap for legal bribery because I can prove that it is an established American custom, and I can prove why it is that the entire Mafia — from Hoover and Nixon to Onassis — are using the courts, in common Mafia fashion, to ease Benito Alioto down the ladder, because he has committed the cardinal sin ( The Pope is considering Alioto for Cardinal when he gets ousted from his Mayor’s job — they had a meeting in Rome and the Pope said this) of omerta. He has blown the whistle on everybody. All Alioto has to do is confess to his part in the hit-run cover-up that led to all the other events, and included Chappaquiddick. I have offered to make Alioto an American hero, granted him partial immunity and promised to keep him off the cross. What I asked him specifically for are the complete story of his Mafia involvement, way back to the Justice Department in World War II where he peddled information furnished by Luciano about secret German war plants, and specifically, I wanted him to open all of Hoover’s blackmail files (Later, he went back to Washington and asked the Senate to do just that — and I thought maybe he had accepted the deal. He didn’t. He welshed. He’s lied enough to think he can still beat it.). At any rate — all money from that cooked up frame is mine — and I will give it to Neilson — no matter what Alioto does. Tell Neilson to call me and I will give him the concrete details.

[Page Thirty Eight Missing ]

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acclaim of consumers — who vote — and to whom all Mafia politicians shape their images — for it is they — the tax-paying, producing consumers, who are the ultimate target of all Mafia branches — history’s pigeons — whom you wish to pluck (for what, Nader? The Presidency?) by the same old process — a legal Mafia society — controlled by you. You run — with the rest of the Mafia — from the real key — clean-up of the shit — which is the only solution to a suddenly potent international suicide. Anyone — in any authority — since the cover-up of Christ — 2,000 years ago — could have straightened it out. A pope and Emperor Constantine — both Roman — worked out a Mafia deal in the year 325. That set the Mafia pattern. The Reformation failed. But a branch of it sputtered momentarily in 1776. A beautiful constitution — passed in a free house — with a batch of amendments. Already perverted by that Mafia-Vatican-political mob in the year 1800. Today, the murderer of Chappaquiddick is a candidate for President against the incumbent — Chappaquiddick Dickie. American Mafia/Vatican Mafia dictators all over the world — more being set up daily. American-Vatican wipe out of the U.N. just because one of the worst — Taiwan — got kicked out. Murder, treason, conspiracy, cover-up, and on and on. Daily — and legal.
The greatest mistake of your life, Nader, was made the day you deposited that $457,000 from Onassis and didn’t grab the first flight to San Francisco. You knew where it came from and why. That was more than a year ago. (I left those stones with Mack for a year — for Nixon to sell — but two weeks after I left them, others were going out to U.N. nations. We now see what that did. Then I had to remind Nixon — a la Kissinger — to Peking — and suddenly the U.N. has a breath of non-Mafia air. I offered Nixon, Mitchell and Reagan — Alioto on a platter — two weeks after the hit-run. They refused — and witness the murder, treason and bribery that followed. I elected Nixon — by accident — all alone. Today, the Vatican hierarchy is in trouble. Many of the flock carry pictures of Mary Jo. And Fatima #3 is a stalemate. It will not be a Mafia blow-off of the other half. The nuclear noose has been reversed. I saw a map with strange new names: Gulf Of Skorpios, Gulf Of Hyannisport, Gulf Of Alioto. If that isn’t enough, there is a new thing around. Since it is new, for verification ask your friend, Chappaquiddick Dickie. He knows a little. Or try Breshnev or Mao. They know a little. Or me. I know a lot. Specifically, the dirty end, and what else is needed to dispose of cancer.
I sent a proposition to Teddy. To stand up in the Senate and let it all hang out. Congressional immunity. Unravel himself like a ball of string and expose himself for the Mafia shit that he is. Take the rest of the Mafia

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cancer with him. A truly American service. As his Mafia brother stated (as he and the Pope leaped into the “Holy Crusade of Vietnam”), “Ask not what your country can do for you — but what you can do for your country.” Were Teddy to perform such a thing, it wouldn’t help him much. No portion of manhood can ever be attributed to cancer. But — if we survive, because of that action — maybe within a few centuries people would stop spitting in the general direction of his cross — where he would be — along with the Pope, Onassis, and a host of treasonous, murderous, cancerous, bribing public officials and back room Mafia — all branches. This Mafia “congressional immunity” has little meaning to the man who’s been hanging there for two thousand years — nor does the Mafia “statute of limitations” on crime. He wants off the cross and out from under his cover-up. So does Mary Jo. These are the actions of anti-matter.
Apparently, Teddy won’t do it. Cancer espouses the perpetration of cancer. It will never expose itself. Well, will you, Nader? Anti-matter. When anti-matter collides with matter — Zilch. It’s here and waiting.
Last week, a cockroach jumped out of the woodwork. From Hoover. He opened with “The Irish are a strange breed. You’re Irish and it took an Irishman to do it.” (He was speaking of Teddy and he was wrong. Actually I was born Welsh, Scotch and Irish — apparently in equal thirds, but I shit daily and I reason that after 52 years of that I have lost my Kennedy Irish and I am by now pure Scotch and Welsh. However, some brief records list — for brevity — just the nationality “Irish” — once I was proud of it.)
So, I told him “You are a friend of Hoover’s, and he is one of the hugest globs of Mafia shit. Gallinaro dug up the crud on Hoover’s connections — back in the 1920’s with Rosensteil and Johnny Torrio and Joseph P. (Hoover’s been riding blackmail on the greatest murderous Mafia crud since the cover-up of Christ — for 47 years). On the day following Gallinaro’s expose, the Mafia — not Hoover, the Mafia — put a $250 thousand contract on his head. That’s close cooperation. Last week in Texas, while Gallinaro was snooping into Mafia Justice Criminal Chief Will Wilson’s Mafia activities, the Mafia — not Hoover or Wilson — almost beat him to death in a hotel room. Back east, Nixon and Hoover hate Stern, who rocked up Kennedy-Addonizio and Kennedy-Whelan (Mary Jo’s last employer and the one who sent her to Chappaquiddick loaded with loathing of the Kennedy Mafia). The Mafia put a $150 thousand tag on him — the Mafia, not Hoover or Nixon. I like Gallinaro and Stern. I do not like Chappaquiddick Dickie or your boss, Mafia Hoover. I elected Nixon — and the Mafia (not Nixon and Mitchell, the Mafia) put an unlimited price tag on the murder of me and my family and my friends — then, supposed to be a Yablonski type wipe-out — and since, changed to a CIA type slow torture, die on the vine type of thing. They know how to hurt, all right. I watch my mother and father rot daily — in total torture. Yes, they know how to

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hurt. And so do I. Hoover’s Catholic boys have been plugging for the “three secrets of Fatima.” Fatima #I: World War II was rigged by Roosevelt. Fatima #2: conversion of the entire world to Vatican rule, has long been in progress. The Mafia is the handmaiden in this, just as it was for any Political-Religious “Holy Crusade” since Constantine. Legal secrecy and Vatican confessionals to cover it all. Vietnam is a current example of Fatima #2 — and the seven South American countries, the CIA and the Vatican have announced they will overthrow — working together. The saving of Cardinal Lin and Heroin Chiang in Taiwan was the basis for the U.N. fight that the Mafia, in losing, will now use as an excuse for wiping out the U.N. Fatima #3 is the Mafia blow-off of the other half. The Pope — in subtle refusal to announce — has “leaked” it — as the Mafia Pentagon “leaks” — in the form of “nuclear holocaust” — and the “soldiers of the church” around the world are spreading it — for prior justification. “If you can’t convert the heathens, kill them.” — the final “Holy Crusade.”
But, Breshnev and Mao are not stupid — they too can read. And the nuclear noose has been reversed. America has a noose around it. It’s gonna be a Donnybrook. But it’s gonna be a fair fight. This is very distasteful to the Mafia. On the other hand, those billions on the other half don’t particularly care to disintegrate at the holy whim of the Pope and the Mafia.
Those sea-bed nuclear plantings — some years ago — are now like leftover World War II land mines. They will still work. They are still there. The Amchitka test — a mile deep on a geological fault — was to determine Nuclear effect on earthquakes. Good reasoning. Proved to have only local effect. But local effect changes land into gulf. And these things exist off San Francisco, Hyannisport, Skorpios and Dubai. Some son-of-a-bitch has figured out a way to short-circuit the deal. And that is why one map lists funny names: “Gulf of Alioto” (right where we sit, by the way), “Gulf of Hyannisport”, “Gulf of Skorpios”, “Gulf of Dubai…”
Said he: “I can understand Hyannisport, Skorpios and Dubai — there’s nothing there anyhow. Me: “Except Mafia.” He: “Yes, but why where we sit?” Me: “As of Nov. 1, there are 254,471 hard-core Mafia — Alioto, Genovese, Bonannos, etc. — in San Francisco. That’s out of 700,000 total population. That 250,000 is passively supported by another 350,000 who pay 41% take out of each paycheck to the Mafia. And that’s an 80% cancer. The other 100,000 pay under protest. But the cancer couldn’t exist without the voluntary payment — by all of the 41% Mafia siphon. It’s getting worse — 1% a month in loot and its handmaiden, murder. Cancer is certain death. That Mafia has been undisturbed for a century. For instance: your Mafia boss — Hoover — will not furnish one — not one — FBI man to work with the local strike force. And the strike force itself is run by Willie Wilson.

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He’s one of Connally’s Texas boys. Dallas bullet Connally — Hoover’s ancient racetrack caper.
There just isn’t any doctor to cut this cancer out. So — take me, for instance. I’m dead. I get this message occasionally. And I — like Breshnev and Mao — am aware of the power and malignancy of this monstrous group that rests on the grave of Mary Jo and Christ — and a host. They murder and loot at whim — for personal gain, revenge or pleasure — whatever — with immunity. So I look to the future. Mine happens to be eternity. So I want the No. 2 job there — in charge of personnel placement. The man on the cross is a friend of mine. He wants off. Mary Jo is a friend of mine. She wants out of her grave for a nose patch job. No lady wants to go to her own funeral without her purse, or a properly straightened nose. What I must do is what every doctor takes an oath to do: kill cancer. One of Christ’s covered up commandments. Primarily because this group desires to kill me — and that is self defense, and it is the primary law of the world. And I have arranged for such a thing to occur — dead or alive. Remember: 80% cancer. the patient is dead anyhow. I know exactly how to cut that cancer out — leaving the patient mighty sick, but alive. But, the tools? Who’s gonna give me a scalpel? Nixon? I elected him and he said “Fuck you. I’m gonna murder you — and your family.” Nader? I set him up in business and he said “Fuck you. Now I can be President.” Teddy? “I wanna be President.” No, Cancer won’t furnish the tools to kill itself with. “So I use what I happen to have — a bloody fucking meat-ax.”
He: “Shhh. There’s a lady over there.”
Me: “Excuse me. What I said was “a bloody fucking meat-ax. For instance: Just in case Missiles won’t get the job done — there’s a new thing around — and now we’re back at sea-bed devices — since one of them rests amongst a very funny mineral — and it — particularly it — is completely short-circuited.
He got up to leave.
Me: “You are an intelligent person. By now you should be curious. As one of Mafia Hoover’s very own, you should be asking questions. And I know the answers. And I’ll answer.”
He: “You’ve given me enough to think about. Don’t get worried.”
And I thought about that: “Don’t get worried.” Let’s see — the whole clan and friends on a murder chart — and they know it and shudder quite a bit. A missile-noose around America, debating first strike to avoid Fatima #3 — and bringing those papers out afterwards to justify it — and still unaware of the new thing. Certain scheduled gulfs. Two wounded, sick and worried snakes: Vatican-Mafia and Mafia-Mafia — just about frightened enough to pull Fatima #3 in the possible hope of blotting it all out — as Roosevelt, Onassis and Kennedy did in World War II. Mafia everywhere — Nixon through Nader (Mafia is what Mafia does), and the true name is MMORDIS (Moldering Mass Of Rotten Dribbling Infectious Shit). I’ve been rubbing it on Alioto’s face, and Teddy’s, and Nixon’s, and Hoover’s, and the Pope’s, and a host. Take a check and see. And now I have a ripe handful for you. All Mafia need this. And like


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the man said, “Don’t get worried.”
There was more to that conversation — something about an experiment involving 100 proven murderers, with attached crimes such as bribery, conspiracy, cover-up and the blowing off of their heads with the biggest gun in the world — one by one — until the remaining group began to sing a Mafia chorus about their crimes — and then walking out the door, leaving behind a grenade with the pin pulled, to finish splattering that cancer all over the walls and then incinerating the building to insure the total sterilization of the malignant cancer. But what bugged him were the names of the first 100. I mentioned Presidents, Senators, Congressmen, Governors, Mayors, Supreme Court Justices, back room Mafia — and I think that was when he decided to leave — just as I was beginning to list exact names and crimes — from memory — from Hoover’s files — his boss. I guess he didn’t want to know.
Jim, who had been listening to all this, asked me please, not to frighten any more good, clean FBI customers out of his place. He said he liked the FBI. And I agreed. This guy didn’t bat his eyes or look away when you talk, or develop rattling hands, and I’ve grown weary of people who bat their eyes and rattle their hands — normal people, that is. I also don’t care for normal people who develop a stutter…Do you stutter, Nader? Are you a traitor, Nader? Hanging offense (I prefer crosses) — defined as “aid and comfort to the enemy within” — and that’s Mafia cancer. Do you take bribes from the Mafia, such as Onassis? Or “Ted, Simon, Ted?” Are you an accessory after the fact to Mary Jo’s murder — and before the fact of every murder since you received notification of that one on Aug. 13, 1970? Do you deal with known traitors, for instance, Senators who are murderers and cover up assassinations? Your closest Senatorial friend, Ribicoff, and another friend, Kennedy, proposed an American Invasion of Northern Ireland — a Holy Crusade for the Pope — like Vietnam. You support these two — work with them — and criticize never. Where would you prefer to be mounted? To the right or left of Jesus Christ Teddy, who walks on water? Ask Ribicoff if he’d like a spot next to the Deputy Of Christ From Auschwitz — or is it God himself, as the Pope’s new constitution declares? How do you feel about Fatima #3? Or would you rather have them coming in? Like it direct or prefer to rot from fallout? How do you feel about assassinations? Any of IBM’s or let’s say IBM’s assassination of you because you know of his? Can you spell “Chappaquiddick?” President Teddy will help you. He’s the expert on Health and Legal Matters. Potent with Press and Phones, too.
At any rate, I informed Pat Gonzales of the Alioto hit-run cover-up that elected Nixon and caused Chappaquiddick and the murder of Mary Jo, of the Carlson-Best-Mack-Greenagel-Martin part in the pre-election bit, and Nixon’s and Mitchell’s — and that leading to the solution of the assassinations, and the entire general bit. I informed her of the “Chappaquiddick Big Dickie, Little Dickie and Alioto” Chinese quotes, and quotes from another non-Mafia country that labeled Greenagel, Martin Best and Mack as the “true manipulators of Mafia Alioto.” And I went into the key: the rigged Mafia election

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process — beginning with Nixon’s 1968 win — accidentally engineered by me — in spite of the $60 million rigging part of which were the Onassis-Maheu bribes to all candidates. I pointed to 1970 — for reference — Murphy’s loss to Tunney because the lid must be kept on — the rigged Kennedy win in Massachusetts (the best way to keep the lid on a crime is to give the criminal the lid) — since his opponent was hand picked by Nixon, given no money, and told to keep his mouth shut and be a good stooge — Spaulding, who also happened to be a Kennedy friend and the best man at Jackie’s wedding to Teddy’s brother Jack John. Of course, all the monstrous mob on Mary Jo’s grave helped and it was easy. Spaulding himself was sick of the fraud and one night moaned, “I go to bed nightly, hoping someone will drop the bomb on this stink.” And I quoted the rigged election of Thieu — Catholic Mandarin Dope Pushing Thieu — which restored Vietnam to the same status as Diem in 1963 when the Papal Mafia Holy Crusade first mounted into high gear. American Mafia loves to deal with Mafia dictators of countries — be it Vietnam, Taiwan, Greece, South America, Dominican Republic — anywhere. They have never set up a democracy. Only a Mafia hierarchy — self-regulated and self-perpetuating — a la the complete constitutional defacto reverse which rules America with a tight-fisted Mafia glove. Margenthau said it — in 1969: “The Mafia owns it. Why not admit it and let them have it? Pay the 40% siphon and hope they don’t murder too many of us. And leave them alone.” Mitchell fired him for that statement. No kind of truth — no way — is allowed into print. If it leaks they cover it up — a la Llellyveld’s N.Y. Times cover-up of Loeb’s Union Leader Chappaquiddick phone calls. Or Nixon’s “Look.” Or Alioto’s “Chronicle.” Or Kennedy Hearst’s “Examiner.” And I quoted the rigged Alioto election here (once again, the best way to keep the lid on a crime is to give the criminal the lid). No Republican effort at all — no candidate. A purchased one third of the votes by Alioto — and that won for him easily — all other candidates pledged to “keepa da moutha shutta” about Mafia or crime and play the good stooge — even one hopeless Republican, who, just in case, had Police Chief Cahill, Hoover’s friend, at his elbow. Cahill sat on that insurance fraud cover-up on me in ‘67, and again on the Alioto cover-up on me in Oct. ‘68, and in February, 1970, Alioto switched Police Chief Cahill to Security Guard at the local phone company — same salary. Job: sit on the end of the Tunney-Alioto-Chappaquiddick phone call records. I then mentioned that Mary Pongales wanted to meet Nader and that Nader would be in town that weekend and I would bring him out there to meet her — and also investigate the entire Alioto hit-run affair — starting with that CIA office — and I would also bring portions of 14 separate “Mary Jo Kopechne Public Research Groups” — all unpublicized and quiet — like the CIA she worked for — and certain people want to know who they are — and I would introduce them and we could have a barn raising investigating party and probably solve the whole shitty mess right there in that office and put the proper people

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on crosses.
She: “No one will be here anytime after Thursday.”
Me: “Well, we’ll hunt you up or write notes on the sidewalks or go through your files then — whatever it is that private eyes and Nader’s Crusaders and private people who resent Mary Jo’s murder would do. And, by the way, secretaries who know the things I just told you wind up murdered. In ponds and in other ways. Nader is scheduled for assassination because he knows. This weekend. Have a happy weekend, Pat Gonzales.”
She: “Thank you. I’ll be gone. Good-bye.”
Projection from this, Nader: Four days later — on Friday morning, Oct. 8th — the day of the start of the 3-day consumer coalition meeting that was to be the highlight of your consumer movement — a third political party — with you at the head of a 40 million, already registered consumer block — on that morning 100, count ‘em, 100, FBI men combed the town and picked up 34 miserable two-bit bookies who are in and out of the jug every week. “Why?” asked local cops. Never in the history of S.F. has this happened. Hoover has left us strictly alone. Jeez. It’s an invasion. What? It’s crazy.” Not exactly. Hoover’s FBI army was here to prevent any questioning of anyone connected with Neilson — or Green, Carlson, Pongales, Gonzales — anybody. It was a huge harpoon in the shit bubble. Perhaps he wanted to know who else was working on the defense of poor dead Mary Jo. But at any rate, Mafia Hoover was clamping down the lid on any questioning of Neilson. And by publicity on it — warning. On the 5th (Tuesday), this Mafia voice warned me not to talk to secretaries — or else. It also mentioned bringing a horde of police on my back, and it wound up warning me to heed the advice — or else (You will read of these calls from Tuesday to Thursday — 5th to 7th — on the next few pages). Are 100 FBI “police,” Nader?
On that came morning, Fri., Oct. 8th — the start of your most important convention — and a new political party — you phoned and canceled out — “A sudden development in Washington.” You would conduct your speeches by phone from a hidden, secret pace in Washington — by phone. Martin Luther and Bobby were knocked off because their political power was becoming dangerous to the Mafia — Bobby from revenge (“The Enemy Within”), Martin Luther from conviction. But you also know that an assassination attempt — exposed in advance — never happens. It was exposed in advance. I did this. You were safe. You know that. But you didn’t wish to see me — or go with me to Neilson, or go into anything. The Mafia are ever like this. And of course, Nixon and Hoover wouldn’t want a really potential reform party to come into being, now, would they? So they preferred that you not come to S.F. for political — Mafia political — reasons, true, but specifically in fear of the harpoon burst of the bubble. You go along with these people, don’t you, Nader? And Teddy. And Ribicoff. Truly one of the boys. There is one good thing about Mary Jo’s murder: she at least was spared the disillusionment of learning what it was — you — that she was running to from that cottage — after knowing what it was — Mafia Teddy — she was running from.

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I think, Nader, that it’s probably her intense nausea — as she looks back now from where she is and sees what has gathered on her grave — that penetrates to so many people. No amount of Press or Legal or Vatican Mafia can censor that. Everything she held dear, squatting their dribbling assholes on her grave and shitting on her dead face. Ma and Pa: “We’re satisfied.” Kennedy: “Impossible. But I can live with that. Ma wants me to be President.” Chappaquiddick Dickie: “American Dream.” The Vatican (Pope down to Kopechne priests): “On to Fatima “#3. Angel status to those who cover up. Straight to Hell if you talk.” Hoover: “National Security.” Onassis: “Fucking whore.” Alioto: “I’m now as big as Hoover.”
Christ went through this. His last words, deleted were “Murderers on the cross — not me.” I’ll guess at yours: “I wish to Christ I’d talked to that man about Aug. 15, 1970 — just after I cashed my Onassis bribe.”

The following pages were written around Oct. 7th, 1971 — but crudely describe a few phone calls from Oct. 5th to Oct. 7th, and simply amplify the projection of the total Mafia clamp.
(I will, you may be sure, Nader, be very careless with copies of this letter. I am careless. That’s just the way it is. Besides, I’m curious to see which way I can shape the events that are certain to follow. Let’s see — today is Nov. 29, 1974. I may get it to you by Christmas. Mafia time sets it as Dec. 25th. The Vatican had a church Holy Day vacancy on that day so they hung Christ on that peg. And that’s the way it’s been ever since. As I said before, geological studies prove he was born in April. The real Christmas or the phony one — it doesn’t make much difference. That promised present — a handful of infectious shit in your face, will arrive on schedule. (I love to rub shit on Mafia faces — as they do to Mary Jo.)

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Oct. 15th, 1971 — (After weeks of previous calls) — at about 11:a.m. another call to 285-6115 — “Mr. Miller’s Office.” “Ask Mr. Miller to call OVI-6718. Tell him it’s about Ted, Simon and Ted. He’ll understand. It is urgent.” “All right.”
Within minutes, my phone rang. Subject: Ted Sorenson — original author of Chappaquiddick “walk on water” TV speech of Ted Kennedy — and law partner of Simon Rifkind, Kennedy attorney and participant of entire 47 year Mafia jobbing, way back to 1920’s when he was a key in the Mafia Judge Crater experience and disappearance — both of whom delivered the $457,000 cash settlement to Ralph Nader — four days after my announced letter to Nader, relative to the Alioto hit-run of Sept. 16, 1968 that exposed the Mafia election process — and elected Richard Nixon (Hubert’s run out and loss of California) — and caused the phone calls to the cottage to and from Alioto, Tunney and Teddy — which murdered Mary Jo.
“Harry Miller just called,” said Mother. “He called and asked for Mr. Roberts and I called your father.” Miller announced himself and said, “ I understand you’ve been making a nuisance of yourself and calling my secretary.” My father: “I haven’t called you. It might have been my son.” The voice: “Well, tell him I don’t want him to call me anymore. I’m not going to talk to him at any time. I’m making no appointments with him at any time. Tell him he’s making a nuisance of himself and I don’t want any more of it.” That was all.
11:a.m.: I called back the number and asked his “secretary — “Why didn’t you tell me this several weeks ago, that Mr. Miller didn’t want to talk to me? You have wasted several weeks of my time. He called my father and told him that, or at least a voice did.” She: “I don’t know anything about it. I just gave him your message.” Me: “Well, I have no way of knowing that it was him. I would like to hear that from him personally. Would you ask him to call me at this number,” and I gave her my number. She: “I gave him your message, that’s all I can do.” Me: “Would you please give him this number,” and I quoted again before she could cut me off, “and since he responded to the other number in a matter of minutes ask him to call me back right away. I have no desire to talk to you or any old ‘voice’ — only to Harry Miller, the crusader, the Nader Raider.” She: “All right.”
Mr. Harry Miller — or the voice — did not call me back.
No one has called back from Neilson, Green, Carlson or any of those people.
1:30p.m.: I called back (It only took him 30 seconds to respond to the “Ted, Simon, Ted” message — to the other number where I was not — as I was not when “Dick Carlson” called). “Did he get my message?” She: “Mr. Miller hasn’t called in yet.”
2:00p.m.: I called again. Me: “Like ‘Howard Hughes,’ tell him to send me a handwritten note with his fingerprints on it, then I won’t have to leave messages for him — or wait for him to call.” She: “If you don’t stop calling me, I’m going to get mad.” Me: “Don’t do that, just give him that message about the handwritten letter and that will end it.” She: “I won’t give him anything. Good bye.”

Page Forty Eight

But she did give him something. As with “Ted, Simon, Ted,” the phrase “Howard Hughes” brought an immediate response. Within 5 minutes, about 2:00p.m., the phone rang. Me: “Yes?” He: “This is Mr. Miller.”(Before this, a long pause.) “Is Mr. Roberts there?” Me: “Yes.” He: “Well, this is Mr. Miller and I don’t want you calling me any more, or calling my secretary.” Me: “When did I last speak to you? Can you tell me this — for identification purposes?” He: “I don’t know.” Me: “Well, repeat some of our last conversation so that I’ll know whom I’m talking to.” He: “I don’t remember and I don’t want to go into that.” Me: “Well, send me a written letter to that effect — handwritten with fingerprints on it.” He: “No, I won’t do that, but if you don’t stop trying to talk with me — or my secretary — I will call the police.” Me, full of joy: “Fine! Can we really get the police into this? Beautiful!” He, in fury: “You would be well advised to heed this advice.” Me: “Iron Bobby Mahue.” He hung up.
The voice, of course, was not that of Mr. Miller.
(I forgot — at this point I specifically stated that he send the letter “…like poor, dead Howie Hughes sends his — handwritten and with fingerprints.”)
And the whole thing, of course, is rank. When Ma and Pa Kopechne state, smiling and in public: “We don’t care if there was foul play.” (And that includes murder.) “We are satisfied.” — the extent of the pressure is obvious. There is no closer tie than this — a mother and father to their only beautiful daughter.
Later — it could appear that Nader might have been paid to become a replacement for Teddy. It could be that “Ted, Simon, Ted” relates to a critical situation — just as critical as “Howard Hughes.”
Could be if the mob realized it’s got to give up a little to retain the keys — this it will do. Hoping for Nader to nibble at the fringes but to faithfully preserve “for the Mafia system” the three real keys to the rest: (1) The Legal Mafia (to which Nader belongs and wishes to rule the government), (2)The Press and Media Mafia monopoly (which favors Nader as long as he doesn’t attack any of the three keys — which he doesn’t), and (3) The Vatican — and other church — The Mafia — which covers up Christ.
9:15 am, Oct. 6, 1971 — a call to 285-6115 — Her: “Mr. Miller’s Office.” Me: “It’s a federal offense to tap phones and intercept messages. The voice that finally called me was not that of Mr. Miller. You can do anything you please about it…” She hung up. That’s all. Not a word — just a hang up.

Page Forty Nine

9:30 am, Oct. 6, 1971 — a call to 285-6115 — She: “Mr. Miller’s office.” Me: “I…” She hung up.
10:30 am, Oct. 7, 1971 — a call to Neilson-Green — A secretary answered. Me: “At this stage of the game when I call a Mafia call I get warned not to call anymore. I was calling friends recently to warn them about Nader’s planned assassination this week-end in San Francisco, when I mentioned to a secretary “Ted, Simon, Ted.” Magic phrase relating to bribery of Nader by Ted Kennedy, Ted Sorenson and Simon Rifkind — all murderers in their own right. Within seconds, Alexander Onassis called my father — not me — and left a message not to call secretaries any more. So I called this secretary back and told her please to have that voice write me a handwritten note on that — with a fingerprint — like Onassis has to do for poor, dead Howard Hughes — and within 5 minutes Alexander Onassis called me and told me not to talk to any more secretaries — or else.
So, I thought I’d call a few secretaries, starting with you, dear
The procedure for you now is to hang up. I have a message. Will you take it?”
“Of course,” she stuttered.
“I wish to report the attempted assassination of Nader, Fellmeth and four of his assistants this weekend in San Francisco. And I was talking to Neilson last Friday about ‘Chappaquiddick Big Dickie, Chappaquiddick Little Dickie and Chappaquiddick Alioto’ (that’s the way the Chinese phrase it), and now Strangelove Kissinger is on his way to China to check it and…” (See note, Page 50)
She interrupted, “Just a minute. I have to go. Will you wait…” she put me on hold.
I waited about 25 minutes and then someone opened the connection and I quickly asked, “Is this the Mafia Central? Hello?” I went back on hold and waited ten more minutes and hung up.
Then I called again. Another secretary. Me: “Can I leave a message with you?” She: I’ll connect you with someone else,” and I went back on hold. I waited ten minutes and then I called back again. Another secretary. Me: “Can I leave a message?” She: “There’s no-one here to receive it. Everybody is gone.” Boggle boggle. Me: “What’s your name?” She: “I’m the secretary.” Me: “Do you have a name?” She: “I don’t know.” (Shades of Bill Best’s ten year old son.) Me: “Then probably you are not proud of it.” She: ”Yes.” Me: “Are you an American?” She: “Yes.” Me: “The reason I asked is that all the secretaries, and Neilson — all of you — all smile when I discuss murder. You apparently enjoy murder.” She: “No.” Me: “I was just checking. I’d better get off the phone — I’m tying your lines up. I wouldn’t want to disturb anybody.” She hung up.

Page Fifty

Re: note, Page 49 — At about this point in my message to the first secretary I mentioned that someone should listen to the message rather soon since I could be in the spirit world within ten minutes and I would be a very dangerous ghost. The mention of my demise brought laughter. Great joy. I think that ghost part went over her head. But at any rate, I was on hold of about twenty five minutes (Sorry about tying up your line, Mafia Neilson) — and that was long enough for me to get demised two and a half times — at ten minute intervals. The second secretary who answered was disappointed when she heard my voice. Like all Chappaquiddick broads, I could almost hear her stamp her feet and mutter “Damn, Damn, Damn — he promised he’d demise in ten minutes.”
Sorry about that, you all down there at Murder Incorporated. Come to the Assassination Ball at Nader’s consumer group Coalition this weekend, and you may see a batch of gore.
Of course, all this crud was really only to publicize the assassination future — and therefore possibly to stop it.
Just as World War III — the combined nuclear noose Vatican-Mafia plan — Fatima Secret #3 — is now in a Mafia frustrated stage because of advanced publicity — in the other half of the world — has made it a fair fight. Fair, that is, in that the whole cancer goes — not just the “other half.”
And some dirty sons-of-bitches have mixed up a chemical to add to the flames. The names of these sons-of-bitches — who are friends of mine, since I, too, am a son-of-a-bitch — are Christ and Mary Jo Kopechne — both of whom want off the cross. Christ wants his spear and nail holes patched. And Mary Jo wants her busted nose fixed.
I’m the one who’s operating on the cancer — and the only doctor around — so I guess I’ll have to do the patching on those two dirty rotten bastards.
It is too bad that Martin Luther King couldn’t have advance publicity about his murder — or Newsom’s nieces, Pelosi’s daughters — the barbecue — or John Tunney’s sister’s hubby’s head hatcheting off — or Eugenie Niarchos’ belly kick and pill sauce — or Yablonski’s family blasting — and Mari and Adamo wouldn’t be pressed into baled scrap steel — and, and, and on into the millions — 40 million in the Roosevelt-Kennedy-Onassis World War II, Truman’s Korea, Kennedy-Onassis-Vatican Vietnam.

Page Fifty One

All right. Oct. 8th, in the a.m. Mobs of FBI — 100, they say — combing the town. In the a.m. — you called to cancel your trip — “unexpected developments” — but you’d speak to your loyal followers by phone of Oct. 10th.
In the afternoon, a legislative advisory commission conducting hearings with experts to determine whether to raise all banking interest rates in California from 12% to 26%. The advisory commission? Fourteen bankers. The hearing experts? Twelve bankers. Hard core Maf was there — I checked my list later. The rest will — as usual — check out on the bribery list. How do you think the totally bribed legislature will vote on that interest increase? That’s right. It’s quietly going through Sacramento now.
Next morning, in a speech, Sylvia Siegel, some local Association Of Consumers official, specified two things: 1. “That Banking Legislative Advisory Committee — it stinks, a fraud, pure shit.” (She did not mention the Mafia at all) and 2. “I’m totally sick of Nader. His cancellation was the most idiotic reason I’ve ever heard. This is the highlight — this meeting — of years of work — and it could mean make or break for the consumer movement. It could be the real springboard for positive political action — a movement with teeth. And his appearance here was to be the highlight, the spark that ignites the flame — finally. It was long in planning. We have here the core of the vote of 40 million consumers — three groups — and he cancels — for an absolutely idiotic, impossible reason — and instead will honor us with a phone call from some secret, hidden phone in Washington on Saturday night. Hell, we’re not hiding — from anything. We’re here. Who does he think he is? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m damn mad…” It this point she was interrupted by a long ovation. “…And I hate to say it but I think this movement will fall apart right here.” And I remember covering the Progressive Party Formation for the Wisconsin State Journal — in Madison in 1936 or ‘37, and at age 16 passing on the quote that if it were not for the presence of its leader — a La Follette — it would have been a busted bubble, right there (actually, it flamed for a while). Correct quote then. And Sylvia was correct — “Shit” for the Banking Legislative Committee, and “Shit” for you.
That night, a consumers’ union meeting. Miller showed up in a bodyguard group headed by Bronson La Follette, Attorney General of Wisconsin, and remained sheltered. He wouldn’t speak to me. Warne, head of the Consumer’s Union, was asked why he hadn’t done anything about all the known crud in the country. His answer: “We’ve only been in business for 35 years. We only have a budget of $14 million a year. We can’t do anything about anything.” Vail, head of the Association Of California Consumers was asked what he was doing about land rape in California during those same thirty five years. His answer: “Nothing. That is a political matter.” The third consumer group — whatever it was — was probably to be addressed by Miller, but he didn’t move out of his huddle. This meeting — a gesture in frustration, polite release — collapsed. What happened to this generation’s breed of La Follettes?
Oct. 9th, a.m. Miller huddled in front again. No speaker. Mafia Alioto welcomed all ( me, too. And when he left, he waved at me — and I checked the arm length for fit on the left bar of the cross). Said he: “Labor unions should run the consumer movement. The President of the California Consumers loves me because I am truly a trust buster. Nader likes me too.” Ovation here, and Miller clapped like hell.

Page Fifty Two

Mafia Moscone (our next Guv) welcomed all. Said he: “Get Your power base from the unions. You’re too weak, politically. Work with the labor boys.” Heevey (AFL-CIO briber in Sacramento, and also on the Board of Directors of the California Consumers Association): “You need organized labor in your group. You need money to buy the legislature. We have the money.”
(And on the final day — Oct. 10th, Sunday afternoon — when the original group of 100 — scheduled to be a thousand — until you canceled — had dwindled to 31 — election of the Board of Directors was held — and in the remaining group were 11 hard core Mafia. The lady next to me told me, “This is ridiculous. Some of them voting here don’t even belong to the Consumers Association. Nader himself couldn’t get elected to this Board of Directors. What’s going on?” Me: “Have you eaten?” She: “No.” Me: “Then I won’t tell you. You’d puke on your pretty dress.” And about then a few sincere consumer people asked politely to be placed on the ballot for consideration — The labor hood contingent roared, “Out of order. Disturbers. Sit down. Close the meeting. Election over.” And the meek sat down, and Heevey (the AFofL-CIO legislative briber) declared the election over and the meeting closed and the lady next to me said, “I see what you mean” — and she was puckering to puke about two inches from my tie, so I left. I only have one tie.)
Anyhow, after the Alioto welcome — Miller left. Later that afternoon He appeared at the back door, staring at me and I gave him a telepathic several minutes and he left again. I didn’t see him again. He didn’t even show up on Saturday night to hear your telephonic sermon from a secret phone booth in Washington (Were you changing into your Superman cloak in that phone booth, Nader?).
In the meantime, Florence Bernstein made a speech — “Mafia in action — that Legislative Committee on the interest rate raise — composed of banking attorneys and others who were appointed by the Financial Company owner who was the chairman of the Commission.”
And Miller’s friend, Pachtner, spoke: “We need money and people who know things and do investigative research. We have a pipeline to the Dept. of Motor Vehicles” ( this is where the Alioto hit-run records get all twisted up). “We need an issue to unite all the little groups. We are not powerful because we are all in pieces. We have to sneak our reports through the media.” And there I was — sitting there with my bare face hanging out. And she must have known what you and Fellmeth and Miller know. And I just didn’t listen to the rest of the speech because I was busy identifying the Mafia in the room.
Most enjoyable was a luncheon speech by Illinois Law Professor O’Connell — he quoted from John Rothschild: “The Mafia take is 30% of everything. That’s why they went legitimate — into government and all business — more loot there. The Pope has the sweetest racket of all. He sells Blue Sky.” But he was wrong on that. The take was 40% then — and it went up 1% last month — in loot and murder — to compensate for heavy bribes regarding Chappaquiddick and Alioto and the UN fight on China. (They write off $457,000 bribes as petty cash, Nader.)

Page Fifty Three

There you are, Nader. Your consumer coalition meeting: Mafia to start — and Mafia to end.
Except for your telephonic speech. No Mafia there. No Miller. And no crowd. At the end of your speech a public questioning period. First question: “What kind of a fraud is Nader? This is rank. He raves about false packaging. You have just promoted it. He didn’t show. It’s phony.” Petris: “Mumble, mumble, mumble.” Next question: “Nixon is a fraud. Why aren’t you getting this out to the public?” Furness: “Yes, we must try.” Judge Brunn (M.C. and Consumer Expert): “These three arrived safely — to replace Nader — and answer your questions — and we were lucky to get the call from Nader. We had no idea which phone number he would call from or if he would call or anything. It’s like waiting for a ghost. The public just has to protect itself from everything…” A voice: “Nixon and Nader too?
Judge Brunn: “We have run out of question time. These people must hurry back to Washington to save us all from the most frightening fate in the world: bum deodorants.”
And that’s the truth, Nader. Something stinks. How could you stand yourself in that phone booth? You need fresh air and a cross to dry out on. Or a swim in Poucha Pond. Teddy will tell you how refreshing that is.
Recently, odd things have happened: Japan, for instance. Nixon screwed Sato properly. The Peking bit, UN bit, surcharge, etc., and Sato himself is a rucked duck. So Connally — on a con trip — smiled and said, “Hi y’all, Sato, ole buddy.” And Sato grinned — like Chow — and responded, “I’ve been meaning to ask you — how is the bullet hole in your neck from Dallas and the fragments in your belly? Do they still bother you? What actually happened there? And how is Teddy and Dickie?” A photographer caught a picture of Connally then. I have it. Man, what a mad Maf. Then he hastened on to Vietnam to inaugurate Thieu as President. It has been said that if Connally can’t be VP for Dickie — he will be transferred to Vietnam as VP to Thieu. He can’t be Prez there because Reagan has declared Thieu to be as great as George Washington. Perpetual No. 1.
And Dickie reshuffled Intelligence: sent Gayler to Iceland and CIA Cushman to the jungles. “Cheerist! Can’t anybody keep the lid on that son-of-a-bitch? You crud. He can have dinner with Breshnev of Mao anytime. I know that. Hey! Maybe he already has! Oh shit! And that would be my place in history.” (These days, Nader, Dickie blinks — and rattles his hands. Stutters too.) “Bust up the UN — -Shut off all foreign bribes — check that — Keep ‘em going — raise taxes instead — keep the surcharge on all over — hit ‘em where it hurts.”
The Bishops said to the Pope: “Fuck you. We won’t sign a constitution declaring you to be God. Like the U.S. Senate, we all want a shot at that.” In fact, they wiped out the Synod. No declaration at all. One resolution, though — “We now think the war in Vietnam to be profitless. We don’t condemn it and won’t issue a Papal order to our “soldiers” to that effect — but we’re beginning to wonder if we can convert those bastards and we might lose our big one — the U.S. — in the process. There is one son of a bitch there who caused Chappaquiddick and elected Dickie,

Page Fifty Four

and he started on Alioto, Kennedy and Onassis and went on to paralyze Congress — Dickie and Hoover. He’s boobytrapped both of our loyal parties, shuffled the UN, and set up a UN Knapp Commission on Chappaquiddick. Cheerist! His next step would be to go to the boss himself — you know — the real one — God, I’m talking about — but, wait a minute — one of us is God — and the rest of us are Deputies of Christ. I’m confused. And call the janitor and sweep up all those Mary Jo Kopechne pictures. How the hell do they keep getting in here, anyhow? Cheerist! Things are getting tight. Let’s get Fatima #3 on the road. Go next-door and get Ambassador Lodge for us. He handled Diem for us real good and helped on the Kennedy hit. Call in Body Count McNamara. Shit. Collect the whole Chappaquiddick group. Move, move, move!”
And immediately, Dickie pledges loot to Archbishop O’Boyle and the K. of C. Says he: “Fuck the Supreme Court. Fuck ‘em on El Paso. Fuck everybody — but us Mafia. It’s in the National Interest.” And of this — newsman Schorr stated: “That K. of C. speech proves positively that Nixon is both a liar — and a traitor — deliberate violation of the constitution and the Supreme Court.” And immediately the FBI clobbers Schorr. They follow him like a shroud and he will soon disappear like the witness to the aborted JFK assassination crew did in Chicago, or as Hampton and Clark did.
And Archbishop O’Boyle tells Meany in confessional, “Check that Yablonski lid, stupe. Things are leaking out.”
And Dickie is boiling because Loeb, in Manchester, is mad at both he and Teddy — but not really worried, since Loeb won’t blow the whistle on the Chappaquiddick phone call records on account of the millions he received from Hoffa.
LBJ issues a Mafia version of the Pentagon Papers — is paid a mill and a half. Ellsberg — for free — passes out a verbatim report. The press Mafia censors the key parts of that. Ellsberg will go to prison for life. $50 thousand in debt. “Justice” wants his ass.
This day, Nov. 30, 1971, James Heisterkamp began nailing up “Alioto For President” posters. Says he: “We can image him for president. He is next to the people. He knows what they want. The people want him to run.” Says Alioto: “ That’s nice. And I like James. But I prefer to run silently — like Teddy.” Street interviews — a dozen S.F. Mafia: “Beautiful. We want: Alioto for president.” On the Channel 2 news room (which filmed this) three newsmen went into convulsions and the program ended.
Yes, Nader — historical Massachusetts. In 1776 Minutemen on the bridge at Concord, punching Mafia. Today, the breed is under Dyke Bridge, at Chappaquiddick, passing out Mafia bribes, pushing heroin and running in Mafia elections for positions from President to God.
The Chappaquiddick Brigade — 24 hour platoons to hold Mary Jo’s head under, and fiddle with Fatima #3 buttons.
Aren’t they a fun group, Nader? You, and Alioto, and Dickie, and Teddy and all the rest of MMORDIS — Mouldering Mass Of Rotten Dribbling Infectious Shit.

Page Fifty Five

Some CIA ghoul was talking to me one night about murder. It seems he wanted me to know how many means were available.
“Necrophilia,” said he, “is defined in the dictionary as ‘fucking the dead’. In our group we have a motto — ‘If you can’t eat it, or fuck it — kill it. And then fuck it. Do you dig me?”
Me: “Yes. One of the fringe benefits of you job. You appear to enjoy it. Did you get in on Mary Jo? Terrible tempered Teddy must have been frustrated and tortured terrifically when he couldn’t make the back seat under the pond for a quick fresh dead bang. Poor boy. Had to wait until she was stretched out in the Edgartown morgue, and then the entire necrophiliac Kennedy mob was there taking turns — in secrecy — behind locked doors. And only his aides had the fun of dead-fucking on that hasty secret flight to Pennsylvania, where Pa Kopechne joined the hump group and Ma Kopechne was kept under ‘Holy Heroin.’ Like ‘Gang-rape Cover-up Ladar’ (S.F. Criminal Chief Investigator for U.S. Attorney Peek-a-Boo Browning, from Greenagel’s office), the thing to do is bury all the broken-nosed, dead-fucked evidence. I understand, and I quote you a phrase from Erskine Caldwell: ‘Fuck you!’.”
He: “Don’t get nervous. I’ll see you again.” —
And now I know why Onassis labels Mary Jo a ‘whore.’
A nation of necrophiliacs gang banging on her grave. The Mafia World — all gathered there, on all fours, slobbering. You and the legal Mafia. The Press Mafia — Loeb, N.Y.T., Look, Hearst, Sarnoff, Paley, Onassis’ (Hughes) satellite Comsat. The Vatican Mafia — Pope to Kopechne priest, Cushing to priest Costa at Judge Paquet’s side, Meany’s Archbishop O’Boyle to Alioto’s Archbishop McGucken, K. of C. to Hoover’s Catholic Boys, Cardinal Slipyji in the Ukraine to Cardinal Lin in Taiwan. Syphilitic Mafia cocks from all branches — Banking, Insurance, the Mafia Parties, all elected public bodies, Foundations. Some astronauts.
Congressional statutes exist, Nader. Death penalty — to any — who demean the Presidency, Congress — or any “elected” body — The Vatican — or any religion — and on and on. As all branches of Mafia do, the legal Mafia disposes of its own. So go, Nader, you hypocritical necrophiliac Mafia cancer. This letter is not confidential. You don’t have to hide it from Fellmeth. Tell him he can save some time by dropping that congressional investigation. We talked about that last February — and the specific Mafia relations of each — the murder, the treason. It’s covered completely in another form. Any crime of omission is as serious as any crime of commission and you and he and Miller already have an oversupply of charges. In history, necrophiliac Rome committed suicide, but it was so rotten it spawned the Vatican Mafia and the Mafia Mafia. This infectious shit spread over half of the world — and look at it today — Vietnam to Greece. Teddy and Dickie circle the globe, whipping it into line. One of the two plans to be the next president. And someone has stated that the last word ever spoken

Page Fifty Six

would be: “Why?”
You know why, don’t you, Nader? And you’re a stickler for correctness. You, then, should be delighted at that moment — to realize — “Well, they were correct.”
Sylvia Siegel — one of yours — labeled you ”Shit.” She was very kind.
Mary Jo Kopechne — running from Necrophiliac Teddy to Necrophiliac Nader, was gang-banged, dead — by both of you, and all the rest of the Mafia. “National Interest,” this huge mob, drools as it humps on her grave. Today. Now. And tomorrow.
Mary Jo, and Christ, and me, all have other titles for you.
I have a Christmas present for you. From them — and me. Much better than your Onassis bribe.
Don’t get worried — as some keep telling me. I’m not after you — or Teddy, or Alioto or Onassis. I don’t want any single cancer cell. I want all of them.
And a Christmas greeting:
Happy Chappaquiddick, you slobbering necrophiliac Mafia cancer.


P.S. Consumer note —
I gave Clemens — Dr. Pepper — and advertising campaign. On the label: “Kill a Maf at 10, 2, and 4. Send in the ears and we’ll collect their loot and split it with you — so that you can buy more Dr. Pepper. Consumers — have a Boston Tea Party — Dump all Mafia products in Poucha Pond. Don’t pay the 41% tribute. Buy Dr. Pepper instead — and send in ears. 140 million Dr. Pepper drinkers could turn in 6 million pairs of Mafia ears by tomorrow noon. The loot from those 6 million is 90% of all of it anywhere. It comes to many millions for each of you. And billions to us. And then we’ll diversify. We’ll take our billions and put it with your millions and incorporate and go to work collecting from crime — back through time. We’ll scrap any statute of limitations on crime — any expost facto limit of crime — and go after all of it — right back to the year 6 BC — when the man was born — In April. Send to us — for lists — we have them compiled — from all districts. You can make millions — tax free — before noon tomorrow. If you can’t afford a stamp — start working on any of the daisy-chain necrophiliac drooling mob that dances on Mary Jo’s grave — all the handmaidens squatting there — Cardinal Cushing-Onassis, Pope-Kennedy, McGucken-Alioto, Daley-Chicago Cardinal, Pope Billy Graham-Nixon, Pope Nader-Nixon —

Page Fifty Seven

You all know the names in the group. Chappaquiddick stands for stark naked (as in murder, treason, bribery, conspiracy, cover-ups — capital crimes described in our own constitution).
Crime — back through time. Now, we’re talking about trillions. And we’ll give it all back to descendants and relatives of the fucked dead — the victims of the necrophiliac group.
Crime only: Defined in our own constitution. MMORDIS only. Cancer only.
Dr. Pepper goes to war on cancer.
Do it! By noon tomorrow. We’ll set up that corporation in the P.M. and dance till dawn. All of us corporate millionaires. And then dump all of our Dr. Pepper in Poucha Pond. We’re sick of pushing that slop anyhow. Champagne is better — on Onassis’ yacht.
See y’all. At the ball. Tomorrow night.”
He didn’t use it Nader. I was right to begin with. There isn’t one good one in Texas. Or Massachusetts, or Illinois, or New York, or…or…or…
Where do you live, Nader? Which secret phone booth?
“Nader’s Nation of Necrophiliacs.” How about that for your place in history, Nader? How many of all those bribed, treasonous, self-appointed necros — currently running for president — fit that phrase? How many have their balls tied by cable to that orgy on Mary’s grave — and who holds the end of that cable? Such a Eunuch-making process has a tendency to reduce Mafia aggressiveness — right, Ralphie?
Poor Garrison. Framed — now — for everything from extortion to income tax to spitting on the sidewalk. And he was only right on one thing: Ferrie, who piloted portions of the assassination crew from Chicago and Dallas. Ferrie’s alibi? “I was with Marcello.” Marcello? The Maf who owns Louisiana — McKeithon, Boggs, Ellender, Long, Hebert, the Archbishop and everybody else. Illegal Mafia alien since 1919. Murder a day. Onassis cocaine and heroin ever since. Mucho murder. Hoover’s Catholic Boys have known since 1932 (actually before). That’s 40 years. Ain’t that sweet, Nader? He does not live in a phone booth. He alone, sponsored the Mafia statute of limitations laws. He ordered the Legal Mafia to pass them. They did.
Do you work for him, Nader? or Onassis, or Teddy, or Dickie? Or all of them? Johnson said it again, yesterday — to Maryanne Means — “Our system is in trouble — we hang together, or we hang separately” — and his message is going out to all of you. Right, Ralphie?
Be careful passing crosses, Nader. That one is angry. He might jump off and nail you up there for the next few thousand. Crusader Nader — necro…

Page Fifty Eight

Dec. 8, 1971
An English interviewer quotes Chow-en-lai — ”An inevitable trend is often manifested through accidental phenomena” ( referring to the China UN victory).
Ah, so, Nader. Do you think he knows something?
And another quote: “To solve a problem you must first recognize it.”
Do you recognize the Mafia-Vatican screwing that begins at birth — 41% tribute the rest of the way — and includes screwing the war dead, and many more types, and as in the hospitals for the aged? Then the dead fucking commences. The coffin roaches of the Legal Mafia pluck the estate and destroy the dreams the dead ones had developed — however suppressed. In the early years it’s legal Mafia indoctrination. Middle years: legal Mafia war — and the legal Mafia writes the laws. The Vatican sanctifies. And then — Chappaquiddick. The Legal-Vatican-Press Mafia clobber the grave of Mary Jo to fuck the dead and drool on the lid.
What are you — and the Vatican — and the Legal Mafia — the Press Mafia — and all the other Mafia branches — doing on Mary Jo’s grave? Necro-Nader, Chappaquiddick Dickie, Pope Pontius, Rosie to Teddy, Burger to the beat cop, Onassis to Alioto, Greece to Vietnam, 1932 to 1972, Congress to City Hall.
From the Princeton Study — “Hoover needs informers because his entire FBI staff are ‘white Catholic boys’ — and therefore cannot penetrate most groups.” A quote: “If a town or a nation is Mafia, you can bet the top cop is too.“ In the 47 years (or 2,000 if you will) described briefly herein, you can see the top cop’s bosses in Mafia action. So, what about you, Nader?
Nixon’s forthcoming trips around the world — hasty — to government leaders — and Agnew’s recent world trip — the trips of most of the government figures — are based on finding out who knows what about Chappaquiddick (which leads to the Mafia election process — the key — exposed by the Alioto hit-run on Sept. 16, 1968 — and forward from there to the 1972 swindle shaping up — and backwards through assassinations and wars). The reason for the hasty trip to China — on his belly — and Russia — on his belly — are partially to determine how much those people know — and determine this far enough in advance of the 1972 elections in order to (1.) release part of it himself (and thereby get elected) if he believes it will be released elsewhere anyhow, or, (2.) decide whether to clamp the lid on tighter and bull through the election, winning — and still retaining the

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Mafia election system — and Teddy, or, (3.) cancel the 1972 elections (the reason for the raid. Agnew research memo) — thereby being re-elected, or, (4.) flip Fatima #3 — and carry out the prophesy — making him permanent president of a half-world. The handmaiden? Oh, yes — Billy Graham of Pope Pontius to keep the souls turning the other cheek for the Mafia to Masticate or fornicate — whatever. There are other reasons of course but election is about 90% of it — just as “Body Count” McNamara listed the reasons for the Victorious war as “90% kill ‘em and profit — and 10% help the peace pill” — as it was with JFK in 1963 — “Keep the troops in Vietnam until I am re-elected” (his quote to O’Donnel) — and Roosevelt in 1940 — “Joseph P., we’ve bled them pretty good, so now let’s get me re-elected and I’ll drag us in and we can blot out all that Onassis shit and other shit and we can proceed right on down the line — and we’ll see that your Mafia sons are presidents forever. Do you realize that this war — World War II — is Fatima #1, and that would set up Fatima #2 and #3 for the Pope?”
Reasons — 90% Mafia election — 10% something else. I know this — because I elected Nixon — on the promise of “law and order” and “reform.” He responded with “Suffocate the slob — and his family — and his friends.” The slow way. Much slower than Mary Jo Kopechne. It took her 2 hrs. and 13 min. to suffocate in that bubble — through a busted beak, while Teddy called for Onassis and Mafia cover-up.
Anyway — the result would be the perpetration of tyranny. A foreign policy of divide and conquer, or purchase and deal. For the handmaiden — conversion to the Pope. That’s the carrot. The stick is Fatima #3. Look around — Ireland to Vietnam, Argentina (ah, Peron) to Taiwan. And it is a desperate situation. Exposure on all sides. This is why yesterday, the Press Mafia — in the form of McGraw-Hill and Life Magazine (a la Look, N.Y.T., Chronicle, Examiner, Loeb, etc.) are issuing an “authentic autobiography of Howard Hughes” — dictated by “him” to “balance the lies and rubbish which ‘I’ know will be published about me.”
Poor Howie — hyped and caged since 1957 — died and buried April 16th, 1971 — is as visible a solution to this mess as is Chappaquiddick. Onassis’ “Hughes” is an exposed segment of the Mafia ownership of all branches of government — its purchase thereof — and its looting therefrom — from defense contracts ( Bechtel, Hughes Satellites, Lockheed) to Nevada and Caribbean gambling — and general murder.
And poor Ralphie — that’s you — From “Ted, Simon, Ted” to “Chappaquiddick Dickie” and “Onassis and IBM” are exposed right in the middle.
Happy Chappaquiddick, Ralphie.

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May 24th, 1971

To Whom It May Concern,
Mary Jo Kopechne was murdered at Chappaquiddick because of a hit-run accident to my car on Sept. 16, 1968, at 10:45 pm — Franklin and Lombard, San Francisco.
Mayor Alioto covered it up — since a member of his family did it.
It is buried in the hit-run files under the name of Hollister — report #522225. My name is Roberts. Report #522223 is involved. Witnesses listed on that one know the names of witnesses to the Alioto hit-run.
My exposure of that hit-run cover-up led to Humphrey’s flight from a presidential election finale in the Bay Area — and caused the election of Nixon.
Republicans Nixon, Mitchell, Hoover — and staffs all the way down to locals such as Carlson, Greenagel, Mack and Best — were informed and watched this. Democrats such as locals Alioto, Ferrari, Savero, Newsom and on up to Humphrey, Muskie, Kennedy — knew and leaped to Alioto’s assistance. Attorneys Belli, Davis, Lewis, and, after the election, Wright — were informed — and sat on the lid. Onassis and the hard core Mafia watched with vital concern. Onassis married Jackie, just before election. Cardinal Cushing blessed the pair. Said he: “If the world knew what I know, they wouldn’t believe me. Bring your checkbook, Onassis.”
On election day — with victory in his pocket — Nixon lifted Dick Carlson from the story. He opened all federal files for Carlson to write a story on Alioto’s Mafia web — an already established local fact. He opened Treasury files for Knowland, Oakland Tribune, to expose Alioto fee splitting arrangements — an already established national practice. And Nixon ordered the slow murder of me and my family. Yes, Presidential murder of the family of the man who elected Nixon to the presidency. For “National Security” reasons, he will say. That “National Security” is the preservation of the unconstitutional, self-imposed, Mafia two party system, which permits — unqualified by any tests — Mafia back room selection of candidates, and their immediate treason and bribery and conspiracy. The Mafia election system then follows. Directed by imagery and fraud and rigged voting procedure — and with only two back room Mafia selected and purchased candidates to choose from — such a thing follows as happened to him. 30 million votes elected him president — out of 206 million bodies who live here. That is one-seventh of the total. And neither candidate qualified by any test other than the purchase price of the back room Mafia who selected them.
The reason for the slow murder — instead of sudden, like the Yablonski family — are 1. these papers, poised overseas, and 2. my interrupted success in a new field of atomic physics. Today, the American CIA is 200 miles into Yunnan Province searching for jungle rocks. The Chinese — Burma, Thai, Laotian border areas are open to opium smuggling, saturation bombing and geological surveillance because of this. The geological surveillance

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area — by the CIA on foot, and bombers above — corresponds (check any map) with an overland escape route by a group of French prisoners from the Hanoi Hilton in the days of Dien Bien Phu — a walk from Hanoi to an American air base in China, Kunning, followed by a flight to Calcutta. My ex-wife was a member of that escape group. My field is minerals. She, a consul’s daughter, remembered things. So did I. Unfortunately, in my naïveté, I notified Nixon — through local channels — of this in February, 1969, just after inauguration. He took over from there. He sent Mitchell to S.F. to set up the Alioto Crime Commission to complete the lid on me, while he

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