The Hoaxters (1952) is a splendid documentary film from MGM, produced by the legendary writer, director and producer, Dore Schary. It used as narrators, some of the biggest names in Hollywood including, Walter Pidgeon, Robert Taylor, James Whitmore, George Murphy and several more Tinseltown heavyweights.
The studios and leading royalty of Hollywood actors set out the make The Hoaxters (1952) because of the concerns which they and the overwhelming majority of Americans harbored toward the worldwide rise of Communism. The dictatorial ideology that seemed as bad or worse than the Fascists enemies we had recently fought during WWII.
The film opens with the warning, “People who are not governed by God, will be ruled by a tyrant.” The film’s introductory scene depicts a typical mid-century American carnival. The precise territory where an average American carnival goer might encounter the garden variety huckster, hoaxster or snake oil salesman. How fitting for a film about Communism, the greatest bait-and-switch con ever perpetrated upon the human race.
The film accurately points out that there aren’t a lot of differences between Communism and Fascism. The 1952 film also labels U.S. domestic Communists as a subversive fifth column operating inside America. They still are. The problem is that today, most of these disloyal American Communists don’t join the Party or admit that they are Communist because of the overwhelming public scorn for their failed ideology. Yet the film makes the point that for its adherents, Communism is not just a cult-like religion but, a “way of life…an evil and malignant way of life. It is a lie! It is a big lie!”
The film goes on to say that “the deadly peril that faces Democracy today is the deadly parallel that exists between Communism and similar brands of totalitarianism…” This, stated in 1952, is still true today. By far, the greatest threat to American Democracy and its national security is the threat posed by internal Communist subversion within the United States. This threat of today, is far vaster than the threats posed by Islamic terrorist or even external Communism from American adversaries such as China, North Korea, Cuba and Venezuela.
The film also provides a poignant comparison between Communism and Nazism with respect to those things, these similar ideologies either discouraged or outlawed. For example, Christianity. Hitler and most leading Nazis were Atheist, just like the leaders within the Soviet Union. Quoting from an official Soviet Communique, “The struggle against the Gospel and Christian legend must be conducted ruthlessly and with all the means at the disposal of Communism.” In Nazi Germany and the USSR and its satellite countries, Christians were persecuted. They are still being persecuted in the Communist world today.
Both totalitarian ideologies disallow free and fair elections, free public discourse and deny the right of citizens to own firearms. Eerily similar are how perceived political opponents were shipped off to concentration camps where in most instances, the internees who were not immediately executed, died later after being worked to death. The Nazis would gas some prisoners and work the rest until they died of starvation, exhaustion or disease. The Soviets and other Communist societies would execute some prisoners by way of a bullet and work the rest until they died of starvation, exhaustion or disease. At the time this film was made in 1952, there were over 14 million political prisoners in these types of camps within the Soviet Union. Most would never leave these internment centers.
The film devotes considerable time to the activities of domestic Communist within the United States. The film aptly identifies these UnAmericans as a “Fifth Column,” seeking the demise of our free society from within and having no less a goal than the violent overthrow of our democratic republic. It’s amazing how little has changed in the past 73 years.
Should Communists and their progressive, liberal kissing cousins ever succeed in outlawing private ownership of firearms, the American public could be defenseless against such a Leftist takeover. Should such a Communist revolution ever happen in the United States, many tens of millions of Americans would be shipped off to camps on a scale that would likely dwarf the Nazis and even the USSR.
This film was and remains a Clarion call to all loyal Americans to guard against the evils of the Liberal/Progressive/Socialist/Communist allied front in our current society. Yet, in a society where Communist actively hide behind less hated labels such as “Progressive,” “Social Democrat,” or even “Liberal,” how do you identify a true Communist believer from a mere fool or misguided individual?
There are no easy ways to identify a Crypto-Communist. However, one method is to, during conversation with a suspected Crypto-Communist, blatantly criticize, either Communism, a Communist Country or a Communist historical figure. If the suspected Communist angrily objects, the chances are, you’re dealing with a true Marxist believer. Another technique is to ask a Communist to name three things he likes about America. If he has difficulty in doing this or answers with a curt “nothing! “then, follow up and ask him to name things he like about a Communist country of your choosing. If he has nothing positive to say about America while singing the praises of Cuba or Venezuela, you have almost certainly identified a Communist.
The cautionary tale of The Hoaxters (1952) is even more valid today than it was in 1952. Everyone should watch this film and remember a concerned American actor’s warning to us back in 1964 when he cautioned, “we’re always just one generation away from losing our freedom here in America.” That concerned actor’s name was Ronald Reagan.
The late Bella Abzug was quoted as saying, “There are those who say I’m impatient, impetuous, uppity, rude, profane, brash, and overbearing.” She was all of those things, to be sure. Yet, while these characterizations of Ms. Abzug are undeniably true, she conveniently omits her most damnatory character flaw: That she was a actual Communist, at least according to her fellow Communists and the FBI. Abzug was part of the 1960’s era wave of Jewish feminists which included the likes of Gloria Steinem, Judith Plaskow, and Betty Friedan.
Let’s first authenticate her Communist bonafides. Ms. Abzug had not only a lengthy FBI file approaching 400 pages but a domestic CIA file documenting her subversive actives on behalf of her Communist cause. During the height of the Cold War, Ms. Abzug was adored by our Communist enemies throughout the world. The Links to both her FBI and CIA files can be found below. Her FBI file was the result of hundreds of man hours of surveillance, investigations, interviews and information acquired from confidential informants, including both active and former members of the Communist Party. Here are the highlights or if you will, the lowlights:
She was placed on the FBI security index for subversives who had Communist Party connections and were considered dangerous. Most domestic Communists were spared the dishonor of making this index.
FBI officials labeled her “Either an outright Communist Party member or one who follows the line of the Communist Party very closely.”
Ms. Abzug “paid tribute to attorneys for the Communist Party.”
“Surveillance of Abzug’s home reveals Soviet official contacts with Abzug and arrangements were made to meet a USSR delegation to the United Nations.” In short, she had meetings with our foreign adversaries on US soil. Further, Communist officials don’t pay mere social visits to their American sympathizers.
Abzug was “interested in travel to Soviet Union.”
Abzug was “described by reliable confidential informants as ‘out-and-out’ Communist.’”
Abzug was referenced in a letter to the FBI which describes Abzug “as a member of numerous Communist Front organizations and whose congressional campaign is a top priority in communist and Soviet diplomatic circles.” Abzug was always eager to help her fellow enemies of America whether they were foreign or domestic.
Still have doubts? Read it for yourself. Links to both her lengthly FBI file and the sanatized CIA file summary are linked below:
Ms Abzug was born Bella Savitzky on July 24, 1920 in The Bronx, New York. Her father was a butcher by trade who operated a small neighborhood delicatessen. Bella’s parents had immigrated to the United States in 1902, after fleeing the brutal antisemitic pogroms loosed on Jews living within Russia at the time. Nobody seems to recall precisely when young Miss Bella Savitzky (Abzug) became so enamored with Communism. She attended an Orthodox Jewish Temple with her family- typically not a spawning ground for Communists. It’s reported that she was captivated by the Russian Bolshevik revolution.
What is known, is that in the closing days before start WWII, when Germany and the Soviet Union signed a non-aggression pact., known as the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, 19-year-old Bella Savitzky (Abzug) become an outspoken advocate for the United States not involving itself in the war that would follow scarcely a week later, when the Communist USSR and Nazi Germany would invade Poland and divide that democratic nation up between themselves as spoils of war. While the rest of the free world looked on in horror, a teenaged Miss Savitzky (Abzug) frantically wrote Senators, Congressmen and spoke to anyone who would listen about how “wrong” it would be for the US to involve itself in “another European war.
The future Ms. Abzug continued her relentless championing of the Party line for nearly two years after the German-Russo invasion of Poland. When asked how she could support the invasion and subjugation of a democratic nation, Miss Savitzky (Abzug) intoned with a straight face, “The people of Poland were liberated by the USSR. Life is much better for them now under Communism.” Some pressed the young Communist on the half million Polish civilians branded as “socially dangerous” and as “anti-Soviet elements” who were forcibly removed from their homes and deported in cattle cars to labor camps in Siberia and Kazakhstan. Miss Savitzky (Abzug) responded with the formulaic, Party approved answer, “These are nothing more than reactionary lies!” Except, they weren’t.
Yet, her tenacious antiwar polemics changed faster than you can say Trotsky, on June 22, 1941 when Germany tossed the Molotov-Ribbentrop Non-Aggression Pact aside and invaded the Communist Soviet Union. Prior to this, she had defended the Germans for their invasions of France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Norway and even Czechoslovakia. She had previously and shamelessly brushed aside others questions about Hitler’s treatment of her fellow Jewish people in German occupied territories. Suddenly, as if on a dime, she changed her position from “the Germans are our allies,” to “Germany must be wiped from the map and this country (the United States) has a moral obligation to intervene.” In short, young Bella was happy to be a party shill for Nazi Germany up until the point when Hitler attacked her beloved Soviet Union.
Miss Savitzky (Abzug) then a student at New York’s Hunter College, later obtained a place at the Columbia University School of Law. Some have suggested she gained admission to the Ivy League law school with the help of her Communist Party colleagues. In those days, Columbia was known as a hotbed of so called “Marxist intellectualism.” Did I say “was? Bright Communist youth had an inside track to admissions at certain Ivies because of the Party network of faculty and administrators at many of these colleges who actively “assisted” with the admissions for select numbers of young and promising Party members. Still, this seems somewhat speculative as it is undeniable that. Ms. Abzug would have been a strong candidate for admission to Columbia Law given her high intellect and superior undergraduate record.
However, while a student Columbia Law, a Communist faculty member advised her to remove her name from the Communist Party membership rolls. Whether she was a member of the Communist Youth wing or the actual Communist Party of New York is unclear. Nevertheless, she was advised that her Party membership could possibly raise problems with her being admitted to the New York State Bar after graduation. She took the friendly advice but, did not end her involvement in Communist activities.
Later, after she became a licensed lawyer, she would spend the ensuing decades working for and collaborating with virtually every Communist front group in New York City. Yet alas, we are getting ahead of the story here. While still a law student, Bella volunteered for various public interest law firms and causes. She dreamed of a future as a crusading public interest lawyer, fighting for justice on behalf of the people and against their oppressors! However, she soon discovered that public interest law didn’t pay particularly well. In fact, the pay was quite lousy. This presented a bit of a conundrum for young Bella. Her family had no money to speak of, and she needed to be able to support herself after all! In the parlance of Jeff Lebowski, “…she wants more, man, she’s gotta feed the monkey, I mean–uh, hasn’t that ever occurred to you man? Sir?”
Yes, Bella’s lack of financial resources was an obstacle to her future plans. So, while still a law student, Bella set out to find herself a man or at least some have suggested as much. We’ll never know for sure but as a law student, she just happened to meet a nice you man who was from an affluent family and who didn’t share her radical political views. He was also shall we politely say, rather obsequious toward her- put a check mark in that final box! Maybe it was genuine love at first sight. We’ll never know. Yet it’s unmistakably clear that she chose a husband who openly disagreed with her politics. This is unheard of with Communists. Even mere liberals seldom marry outside their beliefs! Hence, it seems as though the great feminist of the 20th Century chose a groom with the financial resources to support her through her Communist activism. How convenient. This, from the woman who would years later crow, “all the men on my staff know how to type,” So much for, “no woman should have to depend upon a man.”
She found her man and may God have helped him. Bella’s beau was one Martin Abzug. He was by all accounts a great provider for his family and more. Here’s what we do know about Mr Abzug. First, he was a kind, decent and honorable man- a good husband and father. Second, he was not a Communist and in fact he told reporters that that he often disagreed with many of his wife’s political views. Third, he focused on his work and family and avoided the spotlight. In a July 20, 1986 Los Angeles Times article pertaining to Mr. Abzug’s marital challenges he stated , “I didn’t want to be dominated.”
Mr Abzug was an accomplished writer and novelist. He also enjoyed a successful career as a Wall Street stock broker. He came from an affluent Jewish family who operated an established and respected business in the Manhattan Garment industry. Mr Abzug died tragically from a heart attack in 1986.
If Mr. Abzug avoided the spotlight, just the opposite could be said of his wife. The joke in Washington was that the most perilous place to be in town was to be standing between Bella Abzug and a television camera. Bella Abzug was the quintessential “old Battle-axe with about as many ladylike qualities in her as one could expect to find in man like Lee Marvin. “Battling Bella,” as her Leftists admirers called her, was a profane, loud mouthed, gravely voiced, Communist who noisily flaunted her hairy, butch persona.
She had an unladylike appearance and bore an uncanny resemblance to what the late Ed Asner might have looked like in drag. She exhibited all the social graces one might witness at a chapter meeting of their local Hell’s Angels. The Los Angeles Times rather tactfully described Ms. Abzug’s, “propensity for language heard more on the street than in the hallowed halls of Congress.“
Having successfully made a name for herself as a leader in the so called “feminist movement” and as an anti-Vietnam war activist, Ms. Abzug in 1970, figured her time had arrived when she brazenly announced a primary challenge to the liberal, 14-year incumbent Democrat Leonard Farbstein, for a congressional district on Manhattan’s West Side. She defeated Farbstein in that 1970 primary- a shocking upset. Abzug would face the mild mannered Republican talk show host Barry Farber, in the general election.
After her unforeseen primary victory her Republican opponent Mr. Farber, sent the bellicose Ms. Abzug a dozen red roses and a politely worded invitation for a debate to discuss the issues. According to a New York Times article from August 25, 1970:
“The roses did not produce the usual appreciative response. Instead, an angry Mrs. Abzug, who was not at her Sheridan Square headquarters when Mr. Farber called, later charged her opponent with “cheap gimmickry.” She asserted that Mr. Fraber “should come out from behind his mike and roses.” According to a New York Times report on August 25, 1970. Link to the story below:
Although Farber was too gentlemanly to raise Abzug’s Communist past in the 1970 congressional campaign, others did. Their valid concerns and detailed evidence of Bella’s Red double-life were predictably and unashamedly, ignored by the progressive Manhattan press. In the world of liberal media dishonesty, this is what’s known as “bias by omission.”
Ms. Abzug defeated her Republican opponent Barry Farber, in a much closer general election than one usually would expect from the West Side of Manhattan. Many Democrats considered Ms. Abzug a bit too extreme for their liking and voted for her Republican rival. Ms. Abzug would serve a total of three uneventful terms in the US House until she made a long shot bid for United States Senate in 1976. She was easily dispatched in the Democratic Primary by Daniel Patrick Moynihan who went on to win the general election as well. Unfortunately for her, Ms. Abzug’s loud mouthed Lefty brand didn’t sell well outside of Manhattan. After her defeat, she fell off the political rader and into obscurity.
Ms. Abzug was a vile unAmerican Communist who as far as anyone can recall, routinely refused to stand for National Anthem and spurned reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. She hated our country, its freedoms and everything else for which it stands. Given her druthers, she would have all too happily replaced our democratic republic with a communistic, Soviet style police state, replete with reeducation gulags, work camps and Berianesque kill lists. More alarming, is that her legions of unabashed admirers from the political fringe who enjoy chanting, “This is what democracy looks like…,” are aware of all this and nevertheless consider her Marxist dogma to be virtuous. Although, it’s somewhat comforting to know that there’s still at least one Jewish person apart from Karl Marx, for whom the Left is willing to place their anti-semitism in abeyance.
Jack Webb was more than merely a successful Hollywood actor, director and producer. He was an American patriot. His work was entertaining while showing us what it meant to be an American and the values that we should all strive to live by and protect.
Born in Santa Monica, California, on April 2, 1920, the son of Samuel Chester Webb and Margaret (née Smith) Webb. He grew up in the Bunker Hill section of Los Angeles. As a child, Webb worshiped at Our Lady of Loretto Catholic Church and attended Our Lady of Loretto Elementary School where he served as an altar boy. Webb would remain a devout Catholic for the rest of his life. He then attended Belmont High School near downtown Los Angeles, where he was elected student body president.
Webb served in the Army Air Corps and after his discharge, took a job as a radio announcer. This led to a long career in radio, television and motion pictures. Webb loved his country and never missed the opportunity incorporate patriotism into his shows. In the late 1940s, before televisions were widely in use, Jack started a popular radio program titled Dragnet. Rather than fabricate police noir stories, Webb then took the then novel approach of using real police cases directly from the LAPD files and making radio dramas out of them.
Dragnet became a nationally syndicated program which portrayed the day-to-day work of the LAPD in their war against crime. It was a wildly popular show. Mr. Webb would develop a decades long relationship with the dedicated officers of the Los Angeles Police Department. Dragnet showed the American people the long, thankless hours law enforcement spent tracking down criminals and protecting we the citizenry. The American publican began to develop a newfound level of respect for the police. Dragnet later would become a popular TV series starring Webb. Each week, the show would dramatize real cases handled by the LAPD and at the end, show the outcome of those cases including when the criminal was convicted, and the sentence meted out. Some of the Dragnet shows showed police addressing the subversive Communist elements in our society as well as their kissing cousins, the hippies. Dragnet is still broadcast today on the ME-TV cable channel and other networks- a testament to its enduring appeal.
While making Dragnet in the 1950s, Mr. Webb was cast to star in the popular motion picture, The D.I. (1957) playing the lead role of Gunnery Sgt. Jim Moore. The movie explained the training that went into making members of America’s toughest service branch, the United States Marine Corps. Training and dialogue were portrayed in a very realistic manner, The film showed the US Marine Corps for what it is, an exclusive organization where one must earn all that they receive including the very title of “US Marine.” The film is still revered to this day by Marines everywhere and over the years, more than one young man after watching the film, has chosen to test himself by seeing if he has what it takes to become a of the few and the proud.
In the realm of motion pictures, Webb had an impressive career which included a role in the American Classic movie, Sunset Boulevard (1950). Perhaps, Webb’s magnum opus was the film Red Nightmare (1962). The film was praised and supported by the Kennedy administration and by the President’s brother, US Attorney General, Robert F. Kennedy. The film presented a nightmarish no-holds-barred look at what life might be like in the United States if the Left had their way.
This disturbing film set during the Cold War, has many striking parallels to the politically correct, DEI, cancel culture of today. The Communist message is clear, “In America you have too many freedoms. One day it will be our mission to destroy those bourgeois capitalist freedoms.” This, just as the Nouveau Left of today advocate for.
In the film, we are shown a traditional Midwestern small town which has been transformed into a hellish landscape of barbed wire fences with Communist guards securing the exit points and Marxist imagery. The once clean and vibrant small town has been transformed into a lifeless, frightening wasteland of scattered debris and near empty streets similar to communities in the Communist world. Webb appears on screen and begins his narration:
“From the looks of it, it could be Iowa, California, Tennessee. You might call this a college town, Communist style, as part of a long-range plan to destroy our free way of life.”
The film shows those typically strange people among us whom we often tend to ignore: the weird people, the eccentrics, the vocal liberals and other oddballs. Yet some of these cranks in the film had an ideologic agenda and are now among the town’s Communist overseers.
They turn the schools into Leftist indoctrination centers (sound familiar?) and one of the characters has a daughter who comes home from school and proclaims:
“It’s true, Daddy. The party convinced me that I should free myself of the lingering bourgeois influence of family life.”
This film, made over 60 years ago, presents characters whose rhetoric has an uncanny resemblance to the types of things we might hear today from Balack Lives Matter activists or other contemporary Leftist groups. I would encourage anyone who values their liberty to watch it.
Webb was a champion for police officers everywhere and a tireless fighter for the preservation of Constitutionally guaranteed American freedoms. He left a legacy of great works that people are still enjoying to this day. Our society owes Jack Webb and those like him, a debt of gratitude.
There’s never been a serious debate about it. It’s undisputed that the late Senator, Edward M. “Teddy” Kennedy lacked the intellectual prowess and political acumen of his two older brothers- President John F. Kennedy and Senator Robert F. Kennedy. He was always regarded as a bit of a lightweight. Still, in 20th Century America, the name “Kennedy” opened a lot of doors. In 1962, Teddy’s father, Joesph P. Kennedy, Sr, bought his 30-year-old son Teddy, a seat in the United States Senate. What of young Teddy’s qualifications for this office, one might reasonably ask?
The answer to this question was raised during a 1962 debate which young Teddy had to impatiently suffer through with his Republican opponent, Massachusetts Attorney General Edward McCormack. It was McCormack who retorted during the debate:
“If your name were Edward Moore, your candidacy would be a joke. You have absolutely zero qualifications. You’ve never even held a steady job. But your name isn’t Edward Moore. Your name is Edward Moore Kennedy.”
Teddy’s father had spent as much money on his son’s 1962 Senate election as Richard Nixon had raised in running for the Presidency two years earlier. In these early days before required public disclosure of campaign finance, Teddy’s father shamelessly greased everyone’s palm to ensure his son’s election- union bosses, newspapermen, Afro-American church pastors, etc. Hence Teddy, the young political neophyte, was victorious in an election that was bought and paid for by his father- fair and square!
Teddy had attended Harvard, like his father and older brothers. However, Teddy’s academic performance was shall we say, less than scholarly. Prior to his graduation, he had been kicked out of Harvard after hiring another student to take his Spanish final. Those pesky Spanish verb conjugations really confused the young lad. He was busted by the exam monitor and school officials tossed him out on his ear for his violation of Harvard’s academic honesty policy. No longer a student and thus losing his deferment from the draft, not even his father could get him out of his mandatory military service. Teddy served two years in the U.S. Army where he was discharged as a Private First Class (E-3).
After finishing his two years of service in the Army, Teddy petitioned his way back into Harvard- with a little help from Daddy. Two years later, he earned his degree. He had applied for Harvard Law School and even with considerable pressure on the law school from his father, school officials balked at admitting a student with a “C” average. However, Teddy’s father was able to secure his admission to the University of Virginia Law School where Teddy graduated with less than stellar grades. It wasn’t that Teddy was dumb, he just preferred the life of wine, women and song to certain mundane things like say, academic performance.
Not long after graduating, Teddy was given the title of “Western States Campaign Chair,” in his brother’s presidential race of 1960. His brother, John F. Kennedy, ended up losing every single one of the Western States. Teddy was what typical American liberals refer to as a “rich, privileged white guy.” However, the Left has always made an exception in applying this mark when the “rich, privileged white guy,” is willing to advance their cause. Under those circumstances, the “rich, privileged white guy,” becomes known as the “useful idiot,” a term invented by the Communist Bolsheviks. Don’t you just love the hypocrisy of the Left?
Teddy’s first decade in the Senate was unremarkable from a legislative standpoint. He was less than respected by his peers in the chamber. However, his evening escapades became the talk of the town. Teddy had a penchant for going to the local bars with his buddies and leaving with various strange woman most nights. This, while his young wife sat at home and cared for their children. While Teddy was unable to achieve the political standing of his older brothers as statesmen, he surely seemed up for the challenge of outperforming them as philanderers. The latter was no small achievement.
Teddy’s debauched lifestyle came crashing down atop him in the wee hours of the morning on July 19, 1969. Teddy had been at a bibulous gathering of his friends and young women on Chappaquiddick Island, off the eastern end of Martha’s Vineyard. As usual, his wife was at home caring for their young children. Teddy would leave the island with his conquest for the night: the young, naïve true believer, Marry Jo Kopechne. Driving back toward Edgartown with Miss Kopechne, a highly inebriated Teddy drove off the wooden bridge, plunging his car, himself and 29-year-old Miss Kopechne into the icy cold waters of Cape Pogue Pond.
Teddy was able to free himself from the car. Miss Kopechne was not. Rather than attempting to rescue Ms. Kopechne, the drunken U.S. Senator hobbled down the road, fleeing the scene. Yeah, he bolted and left Miss Kopechne for dead. While escaping the scene, he passed four different homes near the location of the accident. These homes had their porch lights on. All he had to do was knock on a door and ask the residents to summon the authorities. Yet, Teddy wasn’t thinking about Miss Kopechne, only the political ramifications from the authorities discovering him in his intoxicated state after driving his car off the road with a passenger still trapped inside. The police diver who retrieved Miss Kopechne’s body, later reported that she likely survived underwater for some thirty minutes as her body was found with the upper torso thrust into “a large air pocket.” Miss Kopechne didn’t drown. She suffocated. Had Teddy went to one of those homes and called the police, Miss Kopechne might still be alive.
Teddy stumbled back to the house he was staying at. He sobered up and the next morning, after consulting his political advisors, concocted a cover story. This didn’t prevent him from being charged with a crime but, with the full force of the Kennedy family bearing down on the authorities, he received a sweetheart deal whereby he would plead guilty to the misdemeanor charge of leaving the scene of an accident with a two-month suspended sentence. Had it been you or I, we would have been handed a long prison sentence. Chalk up another win for the “privileged white guys.”
Teddy used his family name and sympathy over the recent assassination of his older brother, Robert F. Kennedy, to get the Senate Democrats to elect him as their Majority Whip. The primary job of the Whip is to keep the other Senators of his party in line and ensure that they vote the way the Senate Majority Leader wants them to vote. Pretty simple, right? Except, there was a problem. Kennedy’s Democratic Senate colleagues didn’t really have a lot of respect for him. They had the strange idea that Teddy was a lightweight who wasn’t particularly dedicated to his responsibilities as a Senator and further, that he was only a member of the Senate due to his family name and wealth. How dare they!
Later, Teddy was politely asked to give up his position as Whip. He went quietly. As the years passed, Teddy’s career in the Senate didn’t amount to very much. It wasn’t long after Chappaquiddick, when he returned to his decadent pleasure-seeking lifestyle. His wife finally left him although, returned to his side for his abortive presidential campaign in 1980. Drowning in his own delusions a grander, Teddy confidently declared that he would mount a primary challenge to sitting Democratic President, Jimmy Carter. In response, Jimmy Carter publicly announced that he would, “kick Teddy Kennedy’s ass,” in the Democratic Presidential Primaries. President Carter in fact, did just that. Carter would go on to lose in a landslide to Governor Reagan in the 1980 General Election. Thus, making him the first sitting President since Herbert Hoover to lose reelection to another term. Yet, it’s likely that Teddy would have fared far worse were he the nominee instead of Carter. This, as many southern Democratic voters could at least tolerate Carter, although not Teddy’s wild-eyed liberalism.
The election of Reagan seemed to annoy Teddy to no end. Reagan was from a poor, working class family in the Midwest who graduated from the fine but obscure Eureka College in Eureka, Illinois. Kennedy seemed to consider that alone as disqualifying Reagan from the high office. But you know, those dumb voters- right? The former California Governor seemed to so easily capture that which Teddy considered his birthright, even though it had so utterly eluded him. Teddy looked upon Reagan as a simple-minded plebian and made it his life’s mission to undermine Reagan’s presidency. He crossed the line into sedition when he set out to conspire with Soviet leaders to thwart President Reagan’s agenda.
Soon after taking office, Reagan met with his military and national security advisors and declared that the status quo of peaceful coexistence with the Communist world had to change. He introduced a bold plan to bring on the collapse of the Communist USSR from within. See The Historical Truth Project article, How Ronald Reagan Took Down the Communist World. Teddy, upon catching wind of this, became quite unhinged. Teddy believed there was a rightful place in this world for the USSR and Communism. Those forced to live under Communist rule as well as most Americans, disagreed with him.
When Reagan took office, the US was in a life-or-death struggle against world-wide Communism. The past American policy of “Containment,” had not worked. Reagan left a lucrative career as an actor to pursue political office solely because he considered the issue of Communism to be the “moral imperative of our time.” The Soviet Union and its network of totalitarian satellite countries were seeking our demise as a nation. They were our enemies. This fact didn’t dissuade Teddy from colluding with them to hurt Regan’s reelection prospects in 1984. Kennedy, in typical liberal fashion, saw Reagan as a greater threat to the world than the Communist alliance of nations dedicated to our destruction.
Through his Soviet contacts, Teddy sent secret correspondence to the notorious KGB of the USSR. After the Soviet Union collapsed, Kennedy’s correspondence was uncovered and no less than the London Times reported on this in their edition of February 2, 1992. The report detailed a 1983 document describing Kennedy’s overtures to Soviet officials.
In secret correspondence addressed to USSR leader Yuri Andropov, KGB head Victor Chebrikov, reported that Teddy was eager to “counter the “militaristic policies” of President Reagan. A little Treason with your bourbon Mr. Kennedy? But Teddy didn’t stop there. He stood ready to give our Communist adversaries the whole farm. Kennedy’s handlers in the USSR soon gave him the code name “Polezni Durak.” In Russian, “Polezni Durak” translates into English as “useful fool” or “useful idiot.”
In addition to giving away U.S. secrets, Kennedy also offered the Soviet Communist public relations advice. In a report from KGB head Chebrikov to the Kremlin, Kennedy’s advice was outlined as follows:
“Kennedy believes that in order to influence Americans it would be important to organize in August-September of this year, televised interviews with Y.V. Andropov in the USA. A direct appeal by the general secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union to the American people will, without a doubt, attract a great deal of attention and interest in the country. The senator is convinced this would receive the maximum resonance in so far as television is the most effective method of mass media and information.”
Kennedy emissaries such as John Tunney traveled to the USSR to relay messages and to coordinate resistance to our sitting US President. Just think what would have happened had a Republican been caught engaging in similar activities with our foreign adversaries. Further, Kennedy informed the Soviets that he would be seeking the Presidency again in the 1988 elections and that the Soviet Communists could count on “warm relations” with his future administration. Why of course they could!
In the end, President Reagan’s reelection campaign won the largest landside in history- 49 states. Reagan has secured a legacy in American History as one of our greatest Presidents. Like the Soviet Union itself, Teddy too was “resigned to the ash heap of history.” He stuck around in the Senate until his death in 2009 but, was never of any real importance. His fawning admirers in the liberal press assigned him the name, “The Lion of the Senate.” To his colleagues in the upper chamber, this nickname was the source of much snickering.
Many have asked the question, how could someone with Teddy’s family name, wealth and connections amount to so little? Well, the Corleone family had Fredo. The Kennedy family had Teddy. Maybe it’s just that simple.
In the Summer of 1941, the world’s two most evil, totalitarian regimes went to war with each other when Germany launched a massive invasion into Soviet Union. Both nations were led by ruthless dictators who ruled with an iron hand while systematically murdering many millions of their own citizens, as well as many others who were unfortunate enough to reside in lands occupied by either. We all know the story. Hitler, eager to acquire new lands or “Lebensraum,” started the war when he ordered a surprise attack on the Red Army called “Operation Barbarossa,” on June 22, 1941. Pretty cut and dry, right? But is it true?
In the summer of 1944, some three years after the start of Barbarossa, Adolph Hitler was asked by one of his Generals, during a walk at the German leader’s Rastenburg Headquarters, his reason for attacking the Soviet Union. His response, similar to what he had disclosed to others before, was as follows:
“Had I not acted as I did…by the end of 1942 at the latest, we would have experienced what we (Germany) are experiencing now in 1944.”
What did Hitler mean by that?
As more information from the Soviet era archives is being made available, new revelations are leading honest scholars to question the causes of the German-USSR war, the deadliest in world history. Was Barbarossa really an unprovoked sneak attack à la Pearl Harbor? Or was it a preemptive strike against the Communist Soviet Union which merely beat the Reds to the punch? Some serious scholars who’ve examined the Soviet archives, are supporting the latter theory.
Here’s what’s undisputed. As early as October of 1939, Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin ordered Red Army General Gregory Zhukov to prepare a comprehensive invasion plan to be initiated against Germany. Zhukov’s plan was completed and presented to Stalin on May 15, 1941, with a proposed implementation (attack) date for the offensive, set in July of 1941. While the Soviets planned their invasion, Stalin ordered a secret mobilization which included lowering the USSR’s daft age down to 18 from previous minimum of 21 years old. Stalin also ordered the call up of millions of Red Army Reservists who began a prolonged period of training in offensive operations. Further, multiple large scale military exercises were held which simulated a broad front attack on Germany. These have been written about extensively by Russian military historian Mikhail Meltyukhov, in his book, “Stalin’s Missed Chance (2004).”
These conclusions are also supported by a former high ranking Soviet GRU Intelligence Officer named Viktor Suvorov. Suvorov’s rank and GRU position afforded him the rare privilege of being able to study Stalin’s archived war plans. These plans, drafted by General Zhukov, revealed that the Soviet invasion of Germany was merely an “ice breaker” or springboard for the ultimate Soviet Communist invasion of the entirety of Western Europe. Suvorov would later defect to the West in 1978.
In early 1941, Germany had only ten army Divisions posted along the Soviet Border while the Soviet Union had over 90 Red Army Divisions along their side of the same border in addition to over a 150 other Army formations and Brigades. Yet, it was this information coupled with intelligence gathered from paid informants and spies within the USSR that lead the Germans to prepare a preemptive strike before the Soviets had their chance to attack. When the German’s launched Operation Barbarossa on June 22, 1941, no Soviet Citizen was more surprised than Stalin himself, who was expecting to shock the Germans with a surprise attack of his own, in the following month of July 1941. The German Blitzkrieg quickly overwhelmed and vanquished the Soviet Red Army forces along the USRR border, which were still superior in numbers to their new German enemy. Given the large build up of Red Army forces along the Soviet border with Germany, how could such a rout have happened?
Perhaps the best answer to this question was expressed by German Army General Otto Remer, who was the recipient of Germany’s highest award for valor, the Knights Cross. General Remer, who participated in Barbarossa, stated as follows:
“The initial successes of our forces against the Soviets were due to the fact that the Russians were not stationed in defense positions but were instead positioned right at the front for attack, which made it possible for us to quickly encircle large Soviet forces. Thus, in the first weeks of the war, we were able to capture more than three million prisoners of war as well as enormous quantities of war equipment, all of which was on the frontier, positioned for (a planned) attack.”
General Remer’s description of the Russians not being, “stationed in defense positions,” is a somewhat charitable understatement. Far from having dug in fighting positions, construction of obstacles and positioning large swaths of land mines- the normal things armies do when in a defensive posture- the Red Army had their vehicles lined up with full tanks of fuel. Munitions were mostly loaded onto the vehicles and not in hardened munition dumps. The soldiers were literally sleeping in and next to their vehicles as if awaiting the orders to attack at any moment. When the Germans launched their assault, the Reds were caught flat footed, with their pants down.
Yet, it was what the German soldiers found during the invasion which confirmed once and for all, what the Communist forces intentions were. As the Red Army was overrun, German soldiers began to find detailed maps of German territory. Many of these maps had identified military and strategic objectives to be taken by the Soviet forces during their planned invasion. Many of the Soviet soldiers had German language phrase books which contained questions such as, “Take me to the nearest SA headquarters building.” Nazi SA headquarters could only be found within German territory.
Everything the victorious German forces found pointed toward a planned Soviet attack. Despite the overwhelming evidence, virtually all of the liberal historians in the West still refuse to acknowledge the truth about the USSR’s intentions. Typical. So sadly typical.
How ironic that most of the evils of Communists past and present, are exposed by those who had to suffer under that evil system.
Leftist folk singer Woody Guthrie was a Communist. This fact is not in historical dispute nor should it ever be, as Woody proudly proclaimed his Communist bona fides virtually to any poor sod who was willing to listen. Unfortunately for Woody, Communism was not his only major character flaw. He haughtily displayed a placard on his guitar which read, “This machine kills Fascist.” Really?
Woody Guthrie had been a tireless cheerleader for the US entry into World War II, prior to Pearl Harbor. This was at a time when over 90% of Americans were against the idea of sending their sons to fight in another European world war. Yet Woody advocated through his music, writings in communist publications, and public appearances, for the full fury of American might to be unleashed on the “Fascist Beasts.” His pleas were widely rejected by the American public- just as his Communist ideology was.
This all changed in December of 1941, after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, followed by the remaining Axis nations declaring war on the United States. While the American public were reeling in shock and anger, Woody seemed quite delighted over the development. Thus, as a vocal proponent of war with the Fascists, Woody, in his late 20s and indisputably physically fit, naturally rushed down to the Army recruiter’s office and demanded to be placed into an Infantry unit- right? Actually no, he did just the opposite.
Rather than join in the epic struggle against Fascism which he had so passionately championed, Woody Guthrie unceremoniously balked and fled the draft. After a year and a half of dodging and with his Draft Board closing in on him, Woodie escaped wartime service once and for all, when he took a civilian position in the Merchant Marine. This, in 1943 and only after the US Navy had begun to provide beefed up naval escort protection for Merchant maritime vessels. So much for “This machine kills Fascists!” When Woody had his chance to actually fight the “Fascist Beasts,” he ran away- intentionally fleeing the draft. Undoubtedly, one of those hapless, impoverished and downtrodden men, whose cause Woody would often champion in his songs, died in his place.
“Oh brave so brave Sir Woody. Sir Woody ran away.
Bravely ran away, away!
When danger reared its ugly head, he bravely turned his tail and fled.
Yes, brave Sir Woody turned about and gallantly he chickened out. Bravely taking to his feet, he beat a very brave retreat, Bravest of the brave, Sir Woody ran away.”
Adapted from The Ballad of Brave Sir Robin from the movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975).
Yet, this wasn’t the first instance of Woody’s talk not matching his walk. During the so called “Spanish Civil War,” Woody wrote multiple folk songs attacking Franco and his Nationalist government in Spain during the 1930s. It appears Woody’s chief complaint against Mr. Franco and his government was the same’s use of its military to put down a Communist revolution. The term, “Fascist” was regularly bandied about by Woody and his Marxist friends and attributed to anyone who dared to object to Communism or for that matter, disagreed with anything else that they said. My, how some things never change. Woody wrote and passionately performed anti-Franco ballads to rouse Leftist men into “joining the struggle.”
However, when those naive young men whom he had inspired to war in Spain, eventually asked Woody himself to join the cause, Sir Woody beat a hasty retreat out of town. Many of those gullible volunteers, incited to war by Woody, later met with gruesomely savage demises- going down to ragged ruin in their lost cause. Yet, not brave, so brave Sir Woody. Sir Woody ran away! Naturally!
In short, Woody was a cafe Communist who lacked the courage required of his convictions. As to the Spanish government of Franco, they soon crushed the Marxist revolutionaries and would later be counted among the United States’ closest allies in NATO while playing a key role in the worldwide struggle against Soviet sponsored Communist expansionism. As for Mr. Woody Guthrie, he was discharged from his civilian position in the Merchant Marine, after he was deemed a security risk due, to his Communist beliefs. It seems Woody was attempting to indoctrinate his Merchant shipmates on the alleged virtues of Communism. As one might expect, there were no takers onboard- only crew complaints about the annoying Communist in their midst.
After the Merchant Marine service spewed him out, Mr. Guthrie continued to evade military conscription until the Draft Board finally caught him. He was escorted to his induction center by the police. Conveniently for Brave Sir Woody, the war was over. His induction into the military didn’t dissuade him from writing and recording a “song” condemning the US for dropping nuclear bombs on Japanese cities to end the war. He was sent to the Army in 1945- kicking and screaming. He lasted less than six months before bring sent home having again been adjudged a “security risk” due to his Marxist beliefs.
Prior to WWII, Woody had publicly praised Soviet dictator and mass murderer, Joseph Stalin. He wrote a column in the Communist newspaper “People’s World,” defending Stalin’s invasion of Poland- a democratic county. Guthrie claimed that the Communist invasion would “benefit the Polish peasant farmers.” Mr. Guthrie also wrote a song which praised the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact, which was signed in 1939 between the Communist Soviet Union and Nazi Germany.
The following year, Guthrie would write and perform the song that would become his magnum opus, “This Land is Your Land,”1940. The song was intended to be a biting satirical parody of the most popular song of the day, “God Bless America,” by Irving Berlin. Originally, “This Land is Your Land,” was insidiously Communist in its message. By way of example:
“There was a big, high wall there that tried to stop me.
A sign was painted said “Private Property.
But on the backside, it didn’t say nothing.
This land was made for you and me.”
In short, the meaning intended by Woody for, “This Land is your Land,” was that all the lands and private property in America belong to everyone equally and not to the individual owners who paid for, maintained and improved them. “Uncle Joe” Stalin was undoubtedly proud. Later, the Marxist inspired lyrics would be removed. Today, “This Land is Your Land,” is viewed as a pro-American, patriotic ballad and is interpreted as meaning that the people control the destiny of America through their elected representatives who are ultimately accountable to them alone.
Just prior to his death from Huntington’s disease in 1967, while US servicemen were fighting and dying in Vietnam, Woody predictably and passionately announced his support for the Communist North Vietnamese enemy. It’s doubtful any of the brave young men fighting in that war were affected by Woody’s pronouncement. Those men had a selfless sense of duty which caused them to answer their county’s call. A value which was quite alien to Woody Guthrie, who would have done well by reading Shakespeare:
“A coward dies a thousand times before his death, but the valiant taste of death but once.”
“I mean really., who could be against an organization opposed to the evils of Nazism?”
Helen Gahagan-Douglas (Photo below)
The Pink Lady
In the western world, Communists operate similarly to Amway vendors. Amway salespeople have been trained for years to create their own unique business names and are strongly encouraged to deny any association with Amway itself- maker of the slapdash merchandise they peddle. Like the luckless Amway distributors, Communists too suffer under a damaged brand. Most consider them for what they are: miserable merchants of failed and unwanted ideas. Yet, the differences between the two are of course, obvious. For most of us, the uninvited visit by an Amway distributor is akin to that early Saturday morning rap on your front door from a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses. A mere annoyance.
With Communists, it’s different. Communism has long history of brutal, dictatorial governance which represses individual liberty coupled with the mass murder of political opponents. Under Communism, people live in misery. That’s why in most communist countries, past and present, there are high walls and/or paramilitary border guards to keep people from fleeing the anguish and despair they experience in their “worker’s paradise.”
The disdain people harbor toward Communism, is not merely because Marxist policies have failed horribly and caused human suffering on a mass scale wherever they’ve been attempted. It’s primarily because when it comes to mass murder, the Communists have made the NAZIs look like a girls Sunday school choir. Stalin alone: 50 to 60 million murdered (some Russian historians suggest more). Moa Zedong: 80 to 100 million people sent to their deaths. Pol Pot: 3 million. The Communist Vietnamese: A cool million- give or take. Hence, Communists are abhorred worldwide- particularly by those who are forced to lived under this evil ideology.
Thus, like Amway distributors, Communists in free countries, also tend to distance themselves from their radioactive label. To accomplish this, they set up what are known a “Front Groups.” Yes, just like Amway merchants, Communists are also urged to give their organizations names that don’t contain certain despised words such as, for example…, “Communism” or “Marxism.” In fact, the names Communists use for their front organizations often have the most ridiculously virtuous and altruistic sounding designations such as, “The U.S. Peace Council, “The American League of Peace and Democracy, The National Lawyers Guild” or “The National Federation for Constitutional Liberties.”
How does a Communist Front Organization work, you ask? Well, its purpose is to help validate or at least make palatable, certain Communist objectives and ideas. Leftist, from Lenin to today’s woke generation are always seeking validation for both their poor lifestyle choices as well as their illogical and overly emotional political dogma.
Perhaps the most notorious of the many Communist Front Organizations in American history, was the calculably misbranded and benevolently named “Hollywood Anti-Nazi League.” The Hollywood Anti-Nazi League’s objective was to at once promote anti-Nazi themes in Motion Pictures and Radio dramas as well as to use the power of Hollywood to change American public opinion on U.S. involvement in World War II and in particular, Communism itself. The later was and remains a hard sell- to be sure. Prior to Pearl Harbor, Americans were overwhelmingly against sending their sons to die in another “European war.” That however, didn’t stop Communists from trying through the power of motion pictures, to change American public opinion on the matter.
Thousands of otherwise loyal and patriotic Americans joined the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League. These were the well-meaning yet, gullible people, mostly from the Entertainment Industry, for whom Communists going back to Lennin, have laughingly referred to as the “Useful Idiots.” These were the naïve liberals of whom the Communists who ran the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League, delighted in mocking behind their backs. Fortunately, undercover federal agents eventually infiltrated the League, which was well into its death throes when its Communist leadership pulled the plug on the operation. This, on orders directly from Moscow, following The German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact which was signed in 1939.
Suddenly, the NAZIs weren’t so bad anymore- at least to the Communists. Yes, the NAZIs were only evil until they cut a deal with Comrade Stalin to invade and divide between themselves, Poland- a then democratic nation.
In fact, the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League was formed by an actual foreign Communist Agent, Otto Katz, who was trained in espionage and subversion in the Soviet Union and was later arrested and deported after his status was uncovered by the U.S. Government. Katz founded the organization with the help of other American Communists Party members including, an American Crypto-Communist and failed aspiring screen actress named Helen Gahagan.
The latter, Ms. Gahagan, was a college dropout of modest intellectual appetites. She had enjoyed steady work on Broadway from 1923 through the early 1930s , due to her pleasantly passable signing voice and her well received talent as a chorus dancer. She was also a fine stage actress and earned solid reviews in couple of Off-Broadway plays.
Ms. Gahagan left Broadway in the early 1930s to make an attempt at her dream of stardom in the motion picture industry. This is where her career difficulties began. Unlike the stages of Broadway, where audience members view performers from afar and where heavy stage make-up is plied to cover a multitude of flaws, Hollywood films frequently rely on close-up shots of screen actors’ faces.
While it would be unfair to characterize Ms. Gahagan as homely, as she was certainly not, her unremarkable facial symmetry made her an unmarketable commodity in the picture show medium. Ms. Gahagan, despite her best efforts, was only able to secure a single supporting role in the forgettable B-Movie, She (1935). The producers hired Ms. Gahagan as they found her somewhat irregular features and slightly crooked smile suitable for the minor role of the film’s Evil Queen villain, which she eventually played. Shall we somewhat charitably say that this role didn’t exactly thrust Ms. Gahagan into some type of tormented inner struggle of the soul to explore her character’s deepest motivations. Nor did it require her to stretch her talents as a actress to their outermost limits. After the film’s less than well received release, Ms. Gahagan’s cachet as a film actress waned further into oblivion, ensuring that her first film role would also be her last. Hence, on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, there are Stars for Woody Woodpecker, Lassie and Rin Tin Tin but, not Helen Gahagan.
Now, officially a failure and under economic hardship yet, too proud to return to Broadway in disgrace, Ms. Gahagan gravitated toward far-left politics and just like most malcontents in our society today, she became enamored with Marxist political theory. Yet, her otherwise slavish devotion to Karl Marx would cause her not the slightest moral quandary in her later aggressively pursuing and ultimately marrying a wealthy husband- an “enemy of the people.” That Husband was screen star and suave Hollywood leading man, Melvyn Douglas. Thus, Helen Gahagan would become Helen Gahagan Douglas, or at least she would remember to incorporate her husband’s name when she sought political office.
With the wealth, celebrity and social connections of her husband, the newly arrived Ms. Gahagan-Douglas would spend the rest of her days championing every cause that if adopted, would have hurt her ostensible country of citizenship, The United States of America, and helped the Communist world. She was a tireless benefactor for the later and a devout critic of the former until the very day she drew her last breath. Fortunately for our society, none of the major causes championed by the onetime aspiring cinema actress amounted to much- other than causing her to accumulate a rather thick FBI file. This brings us to how the piously self-important Ms. Gahagan-Douglas would unwittingly played a decisive role in catapulting the career of one of the 20th Century’s most prominent anti-Communists. This would be her only legitimate claim to fame.
In 1944, Ms. Gahagan-Douglas, with her husband’s connections and copious amounts of his money, managed to get herself elected to one of the most Left-leaning congressional districts in California. This was the first steady, full-time job she had held in her life. Then in 1950, Ms. Gahagan-Douglas, drunk on her own vainglory, boldly announced that she would mount a primary challenge against the popular incumbent Democratic Senator- a Liberal New Dealer named Sheridan Downey. Downy, who supported every New Deal policy of FDR, was apparently not far enough Left for Ms. Gahanna-Douglas and her rich Marxist friends. Senator Downey was as shocked as anyone, when Ms. Gahagan-Douglas declared, seemingly out of the blue and over the protests of the California Democratic Party, that she would challengesllc the beloved and long serving Senator. With seemingly unlimited money coming in from her husband and his Hollywood friends, as well as from hardened Leftists from all parts of the country, Gahagan-Douglas was able to dwarf Democratic Senator Downey’s message. She attacked Downey with vicious slurs against his character and misrepresented his voting record.
She knowingly engaged in outright lies, calling the liberal Senator, “a tool of big business and oilmen.” In response, Downey brought up Gahagan-Douglas’ longtime support of Soviet tyranny then, when the timing couldn’t possibly have been worse, Senator Downey became ill. Forced to leave after being diagnosed with potentially life threatening health issues. He would spend the next four months confined to a bed, in the Bethesda Naval Hospital, leaving Ms. Douglas with a free run of the board. Downey’s sudden illness sent mainstream Democrats into a panic.
On the last day one could legally file to run for the U.S. Senate in California, the establishment of the California Democratic Party was able to persuade businessman, WWI hero and civic booster, Manchester Boddy, to jump into the race. Boddy, also a New Deal liberal, was the publisher of the Los Angeles Daily News. He was a man best known for his progressive values, business acumen and high moral character. Boddy entered the race far too late and in the end, it was Gahanna-Douglas’ money and media savvy, as well as her willingness to smear her opponents, that carried her to the surprise primary victory and the Democratic nomination for US Senator.
The nomination of Ms. Gahagan-Douglas alarmed many California Democrats. For most establishment Democrats, her message seemed downright UnAmerican. Soon, a committee was formed by California’s Democratic leaders, so panicked over Gahagan-Douglas’ Leftist rhetoric, that they decided to support her Republican opponent in the 1950 California U.S. Senate election. Even the sitting Democratic President Harry Truman, was reluctant to endorse Gahagan-Douglas and only later would do so half-heartedly. Many other national Democrats, including future US President John F. Kennedy, would donate money to Ms. Gahagan-Dougals’ Republican opponent. Who was that Republican opponent?
It was none other than future Vice-President and President of the United States, Richard Nixon. Nixon had already made a name for himself by aggressively pursuing Communist subversives as a member of Congress.
While Nixon would have had an uphill battle in unseating Senator Sheridan Downey, as more California Democrats flocked toward Nixon with their money and endorsements, it became clear that Gahagan-Douglas was destined to be a pushover for Nixon. Nixon was urged to call out Gahagan-Douglas’ Communism. Concerned FBI agents leaked details of her Communists activities and parts of her FBI file to the Nixon Campaign. Nixon declined to act on this information, citing overkill. He instead simply referred to her as the “Pink Lady.” Quite a charitable description given who and more importantly, what she really was. Gahagan-Douglas lost to Nixon in a landslide. The “Pink Lady’s” political career was abruptly and permanently ended- although, not her radical Marxist activism. Nixon, propelled to the National Stage as a Communist slayer, was chosen as General Eisenhower’s running mate in 1952 and served eight years as Vice-Present. He would later go on to be elected and reelected President of the United States.
The Pink Lady who, more than anyone, propelled Nixon’s meteoric rise, would spend the remaining few decades of her life as a bitter, humorless troglodyte- like Dickens’ Miss Havisham. She became enveloped in a black cloaked, self-consumed, downward spiral of hatred toward both America and its people. Over time, the public seemed to forget who she even was or for that matter, care about the issues she advocated for. Media interest in her ebbed profoundly.
Gahagan-Douglas: In her prime (L) and shortly before her death (R).
On the eve of Ronald Reagan’s historic election as President, The Pink Lady died a lonely death in despair. Most Americans had forgotten who she was and few took the time to read even the modest obituary space, afforded her passing, on the very most back pages of their daily newspapers.
Prior to her unheeded demise, she had become a recluse. She remained holed up in her Manhattan Co-Op Apartment- a modern Norma Desmond, ready for her close up but lacking any takers.
She had moved as far away from California as she could, the state whose people had so wounded her frail amour propre in their overwhelming rejection of her as an Actress, Politician and even as a person. She was said to be broken in spirit and perpetually angry at the ignorant and unwashed masses of voters who always seemed quick to reject her and her various Leftist causes or issues de jour. “Those dumb, ignorant voters,” she would sometimes be heard mumbling under her breath, as she stumbled listlessly around her apartment in her threadbare, rumpled and often dirty, pink bathrobe. Others during her last years, including her housekeeper, reported her as often muttering incoherently, to herself, “They’re all racists you know! All of them!”
Editor’s Introduction: In 2016, a Reddit story posted by user, u/Jermmz77,exploded across the internet. It was this true story, reprinted word for word below, of a young man who traveled across the country to visit Slab City.
Slab City is a former military base, located in Southern California’s Sonoran desert, that was taken over by the dregs of society many years ago. It’s Liberal to Left-Wing proponents prefer to portray it as a majestic, if not utopian world, inhabited by the type of principled, incorruptible souls who would prefer drop out of our unscrupulous, materialistic, and dog-eat-dog society, rather than participate in it. “The last free place on Earth,” they call it. Really? It’s been deceivingly puffed as a type of year round “Burning Man Lite” for the impoverished. Those naive simpletons who swallow this bait, soon become disillusioned after entering the Big Slab. Hence the oft repeated joke: “What has twenty-four legs and nine teeth?” Punchline: “The first dozen residents you meet in Slab City.”
The unpleasant truth is that Slab City has always been a weigh station for society’s undesirables. It’s lawless, anything goes reputation draws in the most unsavory of our societal bottom feeders. Included too, are the harmless, as well as gullible, young people, in search of a 1960s style, hippiesque redux. Those hapless thrill seekers, drawn by the illusory lure of free love, peace and drugs, often experience a “bad trip.” I’m not just referring to the unsatisfactory acid, they pop there. When snakes drop LSD they undoubtedly hallucinate about being surrounded by the human inhabitants of Slab City. For every one hirsute, young, free spirit in search of the ultimate hootenanny, there are at least four other hardened Slab inhabitants who have either: a) done serious prison time; b) been committed to a metal hospital; c) are presently wanted fugitives from justice; d) look like they could be cast as the antagonis in an 80s style slasher movie; e) all of the above.
Just ask Poe Delwyn Black, an otherwise honorable and altruistic 21-year-old trans man, with a big heart and kind demeanor, who made “the pilgrimage” to the Big Slab in 2021. Oh, wait a minute, I remember now…It’s starting to come back to me…you can’t ask Poe Delwyn Black because, well… he’s dead. Yes, tragically, this nice young man was murdered in Slab City. Hauntingly, young Poe Delwyn Black’s mutilated body, chalked with dozens of stab wounds, was recovered from the same canal, North of the Big Slab, where u/Jermmz77, fled for his life from a crazed mob of Slab residents. This drug frenzied pack of depraved miscreants, with an eerie resemblance to the mutants from the classic film, The Hills Have Eyes, (1977) hunted and stalked u/Jermmz77 like a trophy boar. Of course, the authorities have no promising leads in Poe Delwyn Black’s murder as “nobody saw nothing.” Naturally. News Story here:
Back to the story of u/Jermmz77. You can read for yourself his harrowing account below. Unsurprisingly, the politically correct thought police at Reddit took down his story. Because we stand against this type of Orwellian censorship, we have reprinted his story, word for word and unedited below.
Story follows:
I was hunted in Slab City
A tiny history lesson on Slab City for those that have no idea what it is. I first became aware of it in the Sean Penn directed movie about the life of Christopher McCandless, “Into the Wild”. In Alexander SuperTramp’s (A name Chris chose for himself) travels around the US before ultimately dying in an abandoned bus in Alaska, he spends time at Slab City.
It was originally an army base, it looks peaceful and loving, a hippie utopia. He visits Salvation Mountain. It is a monument right outside of Slab City that was built over the course of 30 years by Leonard Knight. A crazy old Slabber, but full of love like nobody you’ve ever seen. He built it out of Hay bales covered in adobe, items he found in the desert and covered it in over 300,000 cans of paint, all donated. Leonard has since died, and his mountain is a tourist attraction. Without him to do the constant maintenance on his creation, it will slowly crumble to nothing.
I researched the Slabs a bit just out of curiosity. Even thoughhough it is in the damn Imperial desert in California, it has a water source. What I believe to be the Colorado River is redirected along side the Slabs. There is a natural hot spring where these fuckers bathe in each others filthy body stew. There is a makeshift Library, an internet café, a bunch of little social clubs you can join and even a hostel for teenage runaways that takes any sort of miniscule donation. There is a church and they actually feed the Slabbers on Saturday’s. And of course, there is “The Range”. Saturday night’s entertainment. A stage set in front of a hundred of the worst condition couches and chairs you’ll ever see. Have you ever seen a stained couch on the sidewalk with holes and springs poking out and a “free” sign on it? Well, I assure you it ended up at The Range. Anyway, it’s a talent show of sorts. Possibly the only talent it has ever seen was an acoustic song sung by Kirsten Stuart in the movie.
So that’s Slab City. The state of California is trying to sell the land and evict all of the squatters, Snowbirds (retirement age RV’ers) tweakers, criminals, hippies and lowlifes. Had I written this before my actual experience there I would have said they are trying to evict the loving hippie commune that just want a simple life and deserve to have this one forgotten piece of desert. But, I’ve been there and opinions change. So, I figured if I ever want to check out this place before it is sold or Salvation Mountain crumbles to dust, now is the time.
That’s why I went. Just to check it out, camp for a week or so…maybe longer if I liked the vibe. I had enough supplies to last me and my dog for months. Now on with my horror story…
I left on 11/3/15 at 7am with my trusty road dog named Cooper. He is an Italian Greyhound/Pit bull mix. I wanted to get there as fast as possible. New Hampshire to southern California, just over 3000 miles in a Honda Civic with NO radio. I only stayed at 2 Motels long enough to get a full night sleep and took a 3 hour nap at a rest stop. There isn’t much to say about the entire length of the US when you’re rushing through it. I arrived at Slab City on 11/6/15 at 9:30pm having spent only $300 on gas, not bad at all. Being so late at night and as dark as I’ve ever seen, I had no idea where to go. I didn’t want to infringe on someone’s established site. I drove down a dirt road that could shake the bolts loose on your car. I saw a spot I could pull in with nobody around. I got out and looked into the darkness and filled Coopers bowls with food and water. I was expecting to hear people, maybe rowdy people or talking or music, something. It was completely silent, at 9:30pm. NOTHING. I then realized that I am making a lot of noise when A flashlight came on in the distance. I’ve been opening and closing my doors and my dog eating is echoing in the distance. I realize that I’m the asshole.
I was expecting all sorts of noise from these people and it was just me. They have some sort of silence at night rule and I’m breaking it, badly. The flashlight points in my direction so I decide to move on to a new location. Sorry folks, my bad. I continue down the a road with a makeshift street sign that says Coachella Rd. I will camp on this road because it’s so dark and I have NO idea how this place is set up. I pass the library sign and I drive over a mile down this road where nobody is camped, maybe the extreme antisocial and me. I find an empty lot and pull in, turn my car to face the road and arm myself with my hunting knife, just in case.
I open the sun roof and see the galaxy for the first time ever in my life. It was pretty amazing. I just stared at the sky for hours. A truck drove by, stopped at my car and shined a spotlight at me. Maybe to see if it was abandoned? I moved around a bit and it drove off. Finally got some uncomfortable sleep in the drivers seat of my car that couldn’t recline due to supplies stuffed behind it. The next night will be better, right?
The suns rises and there is still a chill in the air. I decide to look for a new spot that has a large enough bush or tree to hide my vehicle and tent from any passersby. I find the perfect spot just a few hundred feet back towards the heart of the City. I pull my car behind a very large bush, set up my 4 man-2 room tent and tie off a tarp to the tree for shade.
Now that I can actually see, this desert is trashed. Sun scorched cans litter the ground, there are tires that have been burned, there is the classic sign of car windows being smashed out, There are lots of female boots that belong in an 80’s hair metal video, there is children’s toys, glass bottles and jars in shapes I’ve never seen before and very old electronics that someone had a serious problem with. Every piece of early technology had its circuit boards ripped out and smashed.
I collected large food cans and empty paint cans. I used them to block off the entrance to my new property line. It is wise not to cross makeshift property lines in the Slabs. Assume everyone is armed, crazy and has a small army of angry dogs.
Now I have to search for this aqueduct. Even in the winter months it gets to be in the 90’s so water is vital. I soon realize that the river is actually across the street from me. I just have to walk a bit into the desert and there it is. Easy access, couldn’t have been better positioned. I won’t have to lug liters of water for miles. There is no way in hell I would ever drink this water straight from the source. I brought a life-straw gravity fed filter and I planned to boil it after that. However, I brought 5 gallons of water with me and wouldn’t need to worry about it for a couple of days.
Now is the time to take a walk into the heart of the city and see what it’s all about. I passed Indian reservations on my way to California that made me sad. Some of the American Indian’s live very poorly in little shanty towns. Well, they were living in the lap of luxury compared to some of these folks. I pass a tarp in a bush that someone calls a ceiling to their home. I pass a dog house for people that’s made out of pallets. I pass two small planks of ply wood that lean against each other to form the most claustrophobic tent I’ve ever seen. You would have to crawl into it and the point of the tent would be inches from your face. “OCCUPIED” spray painted on the side. I’m hoping it’s so nobody scavenges the wood and not because the dude came home one day and someone else crawled into his cubby hole and made it their own.
The further in you go, the more community you start to see. Multiple shacks and broken down vehicles all in close proximity. I pass the signs to the library. I look up the road to see what it looks like and it doesn’t look too inviting. I don’t know what I thought a desert library would look like but I wasn’t expecting pallets, torn tarps and anything else that can almost form a solid wall. MAYBE I’ll check that out later.
I pass the “Internet Café”. For a small donation you can charge your electronics, use the WIFI and they serve coffee in the morning. I’ll definitely stop there today. I start to pass various social clubs. “The Oasis Club” I still don’t know what that’s all about. Then I pass a more sinister looking club. A dark shack with tattered black fabric and tarps blowing in the breezy. It had a very pirate like look to it. The black sign with white lettering read “The Cannibal Club: If you’re not a member, you get eaten”. I hope that’s a joke. Later that night, that sign would bounce around in my head and make me reconsider if it actually was a joke or not.
So with all this extreme poverty and hand built “homes” there is the complete opposite, The Snowbird community. The retirement folks that park for free for the winter before heading out in the spring. RV’s costing $250,000. They stick together and have a pretty good community watch going. They’re old and don’t have much else to do than watch what’s happening around them, plus dogs.
Everyone I pass on the road is friendly. A smile, A wave, A “good morning”. I head back to camp to make some breakfast and charge my phone. I don’t get a signal but I would play some app games to pass the time until dusk when The Range starts drawing people in. I charge my phone for about 30 minutes using my car. 5%-in 30 minutes. This is not good and a waste of gas, so I decide to head back to the internet café, charge up, leech some WIFI and mingle with the natives. This is where I do everything wrong and make myself a nice juicy target for at the very least robbery, an ass kicking and quite possibly murder.
There is a dog problem at the slabs. It seems everyone has at least one and many have giant packs of dogs. I’m talking 10-20 dogs and they all go bat shit crazy as you walk pass. Don’t expect anyone to tell their dog to Sssshhhh or even attempt to restrain it as it follows you down the road growling and making advancements toward you. My poor dog Cooper (the only leashed dog in the slabs) is not an aggressive dog at all. He’ll warn me if someone approaches but he generally loves all people and doesn’t know how to deal with packs of dogs growling and showing their teeth to him.
I arrive at the internet café which is a small camper with a shaded addition built on, Couches and power outlets. I walk to the gate where I hear people talking. I ask who is in charge and how this place works. An old bearded man tells me they accept donations. I’m always generous, I can’t help it. I step inside and a cloud of deer flys lifts off the occupants. I was not prepared for that, these people gave zero shits that they were covered in flys. I can’t help swatting the fuckers away and that was very out of place here. The older gentleman tells me I can put my dog in the pen behind the shack. I check it out and there is a large crazy looking female pit bull in there. Her owner tells me she can be really bitchy sometimes but encourages me to feed my dear dog to it. I decline.
Besides the nice old man, there is a woman in her late 40’s knitting mushroom shaped lighter holders that hang from your neck. Weird but what did I expect? There is a dreadlocked Hippie chick in her early 20’s. She is mildly pregnant and actually quite beautiful. She is a Slab City 10 or a real world 6.5 Beside her curled up in fetal position with his head on her lap is her filthy bearded boyfriend. He is much too stoned to do anything at all but lay there. There is a dreadlocked drifter looking kid in his early 20’s. He sits silently by himself never saying a word. So I offer my donation to the old man. I hand him a crisp $20. I was not expecting the reaction but he basically told me I can use their service forever and he is used to 10 cent donations for the week. And with that single stupid move on my part, I set off a chain of events.
I plug in my phone and sit on the couch and shoot the shit with the old man and the knitting lady. All very easy conversation. They tell me a bit about them and ask me a bit about me. Where are you from? what made you come here? how long are you going to be here? It all flowed as natural conversation and I’m an idiot. So after a while of talking the drifter kid gets up and leaves. I forgot he was even there. Oh yeah, 8 phones charging by solar panel while the old dude uses his lap top is not a quick thing. I’m going to be here for hours. Then I start noticing the preggo chick keeps looking at me with a strange expression on her face. At the time I took it as her being super high and me looking so out of place. First off, I am clean. No dirt, no holes in my shoes, a dog on a leash, a nice phone, my arm tattooed with a sleeve that obviously cost a shit ton of money. Thinking back to her expression, I think she knew I fucked up and she taking in the details of someone that is going to have something horrible happen to him.
10 or so minutes after the silent dreadheaded drifter kid leaves, in pops a new drifter kid. Early 20’s as well. Tall and lanky. Blonde hair covering one of his eyes. I know this is shocking but everyone I have been near did not have any sort of over powering odor. Maybe the constant breeze kept the stinks away, who knows…but this kid stunk like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. I can only describe it as sweaty unwiped ass and rotting potatoes. Everything about him was a bad sign. He had a large knife on his side. He had a rat face. He had toes poking out through his shoes. He had muck caked to his clothes. In contrast to my professional tattoo, he was covered in words and doodles that looked like he took pen ink and a hypodermic needle and went to town on himself. But that smell, it was unforgivable.
I can’t remember what he said to me. I just remember him saying “Hey we have to give the new guys a hard time, ya know” He sits on the couch and my lovable dog isn’t loving this kid at all. He gives the kid a serious look for a second. Rat face says something to the effect of “I wouldn’t think about it dog, I have a (I can’t remember what kind of dog he said, but he said it’s the best hunting dog in the world and she can track anything) she might be smaller than you but she’s stronger”.
This kid gives me the creeps, and my dog too. Thankfully an ancient man with a walking stick enters looking like a thousand year old scarecrow and freaks the fuck out of Cooper. He goes into a barking panic, thankfully not giving the man a heart attack but definitely startling him. I use this as my cue to get the fuck out of there. I leave my phone to charge and say I’ll be back later for it. The café boss says ok, not a problem and says he’ll see me at The Range and tells me it starts filling up as soon as the sun begins to set. I apologize to the old scarecrow but he doesn’t even acknowledge me.
I head back to camp to get my car and hopefully my phone will be mostly charged when I stop off at the café before heading to Salvation Mountain. I hike my mile back to camp, explore the desert a bit and then head out to grab my phone and see the mountain. I arrive back at the Café to find nobody there. That’s ok with me. My phone is still charging thankfully. I pick it up and it is at 73% good enough for me.
I drive down to Salvation Mountain which I should have seen on my way into Slab City but it was so dark, even my headlights didn’t allow me a glimpse of it. To my surprise there was about 100 people at the mountain. Not typical Slabbers, none actually. Tourists from all over the world. Lots of beautiful Asian girls, photographers and families. I didn ‘t know until later but it was Leonard Knights birthday. The photos of this place are nothing special, it looks like a mess. It looks small but it looks interesting. In person it is actually much more impressive. Tunnels, caves, nooks, all painted with odd sculptures. Leonard gave over 600,000 tours of his mountain in his life time and every last person sought him out. That’s pretty impressive for a dude living in the desert. I may also be exaggerating that number, but it’s something ridiculous like that.
It’s getting late and I want to check out the night’s entertainment at The Range. I park my car back at camp and decide to walk to the festivities. I pack a small bag with a flashlight, a dog bowl and a bottle of water. I fill a 20 oz. bottle about 1/3 the way with rum and the rest with coke. Off we go.
It’s already dark, I didn’t plan my timing very well. We are confronted by packs of dogs. It seems in the dark they are even worse. Luckily none attacked and Cooper didn’t provoke them, scary either way.
We arrive at The Range and cars are parked all over. All the couches are filled and people are standing in groups all around chatting. I decide to stand way in the back because there are dogs everywhere and I don’t want Cooper to cause a disturbance.
A 20 something dark skinned girl gets on the mic and says that they will be featuring a 45 minute documentary about Leonard Knight because it was his birthday…who knew? It was fairly interesting. The guy was obviously crazy but completely harmless. I was expecting him to be some sort of icon to the slabbers but most paid no attention and many just talked through it and smoked whatever their drug of choice was.
There was a handful of people standing in the back with me. The girl on the mic came up to me and asked me to sit on the couch. I explained that my dog is freaked out and I don’t want to be a distraction. She says it’s ok and insists I sit in the back row. Fine, whatever. She didn’t ask anybody else to take a seat.
I sit down beside a man that looks like your typical filthy bearded bench sleeping bum. Cooper immediately liked him, in fact he was the only person that Cooper acted like his normal self around. That instantly made him cool with me. We talked for a bit and it was a cool conversation. I took a swig from my rum and Coke and then offered it to the bum. “It’s all yours, Buddy” He was very thankful. I don’t think he receives much kindness for no reason. He chugged that bottle in an instant. I made it potent and said it was so good.
A group of dogs comes by and start freaking Cooper out. I hold his leash tight and keep him close. The guy to my right says I need to just let them work it out. Let them fight, they usually stop. Then he tells me about a pit bull that he just beat to death with a bat because it wouldn’t stop. What the fuck kind of person says that nonchalantly like it happens all the time to a person they don’t know?
Now that guy gets up and leaves…good. But the dreadhead drifter and the rat faced ass scented drifter kid both come and sit right beside me. They say hi to the bum and he says hi back in a subdued, don’t talk to me sort of way that for whatever reason instantly put me on high alert.
I started to become hyper aware of everything. Dreadhead kid gets up after 2 minutes and heads to a group of people to my left. Ass scented kid gets up a minute later and heads to a group of people to my right. My heart starts pounding because I suddenly feel like I need to get out of here quick.
I stand and put on my dark blue jacket because it’s getting chilly. The bum looks at me with worry in his eyes and says “you be real careful on your way back to camp ok” I smiled and said “I’ll see you again”. Trying to play off the sudden realization that something bad is going to happen if I don’t hide fast. I hop off the platform the couches are on and walk calmly. As soon as I am around the corner and out of sight, I start sprinting in absolute darkness.
I take my hunting knife out of its sheath. I don’t know the layout. This is not the place you want to suddenly run onto someone’s spot. I get off the road immediately and try to find cover. About 2 minutes after I start running, 3 cars come speeding out of the lot where everyone was parking. I duck behind a bush and hold Cooper down. All of the cars branch off in different directions. We run when we can and duck as the cars turn around whip up and down these little side streets of dirt. We duck behind another bush but Cooper is freaked out by how frantic I am and backs out of his harness. And that’s it, he sprints like the Greyhound he is into the darkness.
This is not good but I can’t call for him and I still need to be on the move as more cars are driving around. Off in the distance are city lights, an actual city. That is the only direction I can go as I will be running off into harsh desert in any other direction. Those lights are my goal.
I know the nearest city is 5 miles away and I need to get there. There are also three towers of red lights flashing. I thought they were a truck stop, A boarder patrol check point or something with normal people. I would later find out that they mark the stopping point for freight trains. But for now I don’t know what they are but that’s where I need to go.
I start running towards these lights and find myself trespassing. Dogs bark as an alarm that I’m in the area. A man comes out yelling “you better get out of here” He then shines a light on me and starts yelling “There he is, there he is” He then proceeds to start barking himself setting off all the other dogs in the area. I try to zig zag my way out of the light while running as fast as I can. In full sprint, suddenly the earth drops out from under my feet. I slam face first into some sort of ditch. I lose my knife, my phone, my car keys and now have a mouthful of desert sand.
The cars are now coming toward me, they know where I am. No time to feel around for any of my shit. I still grip Coopers harness though. I just get up and run. I come to the aqueduct. It’s too wide and fast flowing for me to attempt crossing but I think about it. I lay on the ground and watch the cars to see where they are going. I notice one cross over this river. So there is a bridge across. A wait for that car to gain some distance and I cross the bridge into open desert and the city I need to reach.
I come across a canal. Thick trees line it but it looks like I can jump mostly across to the other side. I jump in and realize it’s a thick muddy swamp. Why does this exist here? I climb the embankment and the crusty dirt just crumbles making it hard to climb and also leaving a very big sign that I was there. I discard Coopers harness. I should have left it in the swamp, instead I left it on the bank. I’m making terrible decisions left and right.
I see a flash light bobbing in the distance at this point. I run a bit into the distance and throw myself to the ground behind a bush. I catch my breath for a moment and watch the light. He is walking along the canal and sure enough, there’s a huge disturbance in the mud and a dog harness. His flash light starts blinking repeatedly. And here come the cars. I watch them set up at each side road lighting up the roads so I’ll be seen if I cross.
There are many more cars now. 3 with lights pointing straight down the dirt roads and a few more pointed into the desert. I now see a bright yellow LED light with one of the cars. I army crawl for a bit but it’s slow and is destroying my knees and elbows. I then employ the barrel roll technique. It doesn’t hurt but I can only go so far before getting dizzy as shit. I roll my way to a clearing where there is no brush, no bushes and no trees.
The light bobs towards me but I still can’t judge how far it is. I lay still on the ground hoping I’ll just look like anything other than a person. I’m positioned so I can look down my chest, passed my feet and directly at the light.
Then I start to hear the crunch of the footsteps. This guy is very close. I make the decision to make a run for it again. If I can get to some more cover I might be able to hide. I roll to my chest, up to my knees and run in a half crouch directly straight from the light hoping that I can gain a bit of distance before he can really make out that it’s me. That doesn’t work out too well. I run to bushes, dive in and look back to see if I was spotted.
Now I see the flashlight bobbing and a green LED light is shining. Immediately I understood the significance of the LED’s. Cars start changing their positions. I start rolling to my left. I am so disoriented at this point. Dizzy, thirsty and my throat is scratched raw from sand, I can barely swallow. I lay behind a bush for a while and watch. The single flash light turned into 3 and there is now a group of 8-10 walking shoulder to shoulder, moving very slowly, like a rescue team looking for a missing person. I will stay as far from that group as possible. I hear someone make a wolf call in the distance. It sounds like a younger voice so I blame it on the rat faced shit kid. Then I remember what he said about his hunting dog, She can track anything. I then decided that should get into some water for a bit in case this dog is with them.
At this time I hear a roar coming from the distance. I have no idea what it is but it is big and it is moving fast. It’s a freight train and it passed in front of the cars that were lighting up the desert. I jump to my feet and sprint for as fast as I can. This is a long train. It gave me about a full minute to run before I had to dive into some more shrubs. I noticed the train stopped at the towers with the red flashing lights. I believe there is civilization just beyond these tracks or maybe I can hop onto a train or maybe I can alert a conductor or one of those patrol guys that look for train hoppers.
I roll back to the swamp canal again. I have a pretty good idea of where everybody is due to the utter darkness I’m crawling around in and their only hope of finding me is using those flashlights. I can’t judge the distance but I can’t here the crunching of footsteps either. I roll down the embankment of the swamp canal and stay in the water for a good distance. I am so thirsty and my throat so torn up that I say fuck the parasites and other bullshit, I need to hydrate and clear my esophagus if I plan to keep going. I lift handfuls of muck water to my face and slurp away. I manage to drink some but every swallow is agony.
Because I stopped to drink, my feet sunk deeply into the sediment. As I lifted my feet to move on, my shoes were sucked right off my feet. I didn’t even care. Because I was in the canal, I can longer see any of the lights so I don’t know if they are closing in on me or if the splashing and sloshing of water is drawing their attention. I just have no idea.
I move forward as fast as I could while fighting the suction and plants that are constantly holding me back. It then dawns on me that unless I fully submerge myself, this may not cause a hunting dog to lose my sent. I say fuck it and climb up the side of the embankment opposite of the side I rolled in. I catch my breath for a few moments and peek my head down the road both ways. I can see a car is parked on the road in the direction I just came from, headlights pointing in the direction I want to move. I look to the flashing red lights and I can see a row of vehicles have parked along the train tracks and their headlights are all facing into the desert. My way is blocked. I can’t tell exactly how many cars there are but I can’t get through.
They are evenly spaced and close enough that I can’t even consider moving closer to my escape route. I see that the red tower cars have a yellow LED. They know I’m at least in the area. I sit and watch the foot patrols for a while.
I’m amazingly calm considering that I am pretty sure that I’ll be found at some point. I am cornered into this area. They just haven’t found me YET. I think about Cooper and if he got attacked by a pack of dogs or caught by a crazy guy that will bash his head in. I think about my family and how I haven’t been the greatest person in the world lately.
I actually pray for a minute, I am not religious at all. Hands in classic pray formation “Please, if I live through this I’ll be better”. What the fuck, it couldn’t hurt. I then started to plan out what I would do when I actually was found. Should I try reasoning with them? “Good chase guys, you win…I’ll show you to my camp, take it all, just let me go please” or would I just bum rush the first person and go down swinging assuming that I would be attacked anyway and what do I have to lose?
I hear a car coming down the road that runs parallel to the canal I’m in. It moves slowly and I try to duck even tighter into the embankment. It doesn’t see me and keep going. I then see the patrol of 3 is along side the canal I am in . The flashlights are not bobbing . They are scanning into the canal.
I continue along the canal while clinging to the embankment as best I can. I come to some sort of a concrete tunnel that the water is flowing into and comes out the other side. I climb the structure and move on a bit further. I feel like they must be gaining on me and I need to hide the best I can. I’m struggling through bushes and swamp trees and they have flat ground to walk.
About 30 feet after the concrete water tunnel is some pretty thick bushes and branches. Most likely as good as it’s going to get to hide in. I wind my body through the stick and branches and sit still for a bit. Now they are closer and I can see what they are doing. One guy is pushing branches and sticks aside while the other 2 are scanning the canal. They seem to be very thorough so I have a limited amount of time to hide myself. I crawl deeper into a bush.
They are close now, just beyond the concrete. I can’t risk making any noise so I just sit silently and watch, this is where I’ll be found.
My heart starts pounding again as they are searching the brush and canal right before the concrete tunnel. One guy climbs down onto the tunnel and lights up the canal in the direction they just came from and them toward my direction. And then they left. They just stopped.
I couldn’t risk moving to see where they went so I just stayed put and felt like the luckiest person on the planet.
I can hear the trains every so often. Maybe every 45 minutes, maybe every hour, I have no idea. I am now shivering uncontrollably. I am wet up to my waist and it has to be in the 40’s. I think about a podcast I listened to about a week before leaving. Wim Hof was the guest and he spoke of breathing techniques that allow him to endure freezing temperatures. He climbed Mt. Everest in shorts while shirtless, clearly he knows his shit. I try to use those techniques. Breathe in in in in in in out in in in in in out. It was a nice distraction but it did nothing for my shivers or the cold wet clothes.
Feeling a bit safe I crawl up the embankment for a peek. I don’t see the patrol. The cars are still pointing into the desert. A yellow LED is still on. I see a red LED off in the distance, no sign of a green LED. I can see a flashlight moving back and forth in the air a very short distance. I think someone was on top of a van or camper for a higher vantage point. I crawl back to my safe space.
I think the sun must be coming up soon. They will find me pretty fast when it does. I am wearing all blue and it might be a great color for hiding in the dark but It will stand out like a sore thumb in the desert light.
I crawl further into the bushes and lay on my back all twisted between sticks that have no give. My body cramps up for the awful position. I begin to pull sand and mud and twigs onto my body. I need to cover up as much as possible. I break twigs off the branches all around me and do my best to build some camouflage around me. A little dirt on the face and I’m as hidden as I ever will be.
I don’t know how long I’m there before the sun finally begins to rise. I hear a vehicle coming down the road. Are they leaving or looking? A mother bird decides she doesn’t like me in her bush and starts making so much noise. I would have broken that birds neck if I could reach her. Seriously, She wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Squawking at me while staying out of reach.
The sun is up. I hear nothing. A sit a bit longer. I decide I need to see if they are still searching. I crawl back up the embankment and look left and right. I see nothing. I can now see the towers. To my surprise, there is nothing there. This is just a random place the trains stop? Beyond the tracks are fields, empty fields. No cover at all. And way beyond that is Niland, California. 5 miles away. If I’m going to make a run for it there will be nothing between them and myself for 5 miles.
I know these desert people wake up early because you want to do the physical labor before the cool early sun becomes the hot mid morning sun. So these people have been up for a very long time looking for me. They must be exhausted and wasted quite a bit of resources, Gas and battery power. I felt like they was a decent chance that they think I got away somehow and just went to sleep angry and tired. Time to make my move.
Now, I estimate the train tracks are about 200 yards away. I also suck at judging distance, SO… My plan was to sprint all the way to the tracks and get low to see if anyone spotted me. Well, I ran for about a minute before collapsing to the ground out of breath. I looked back frantically ,scanning the area. I am way outside the actual camping area of the city so I can only see a couple wooden shacks and a camper way off in the distance. I Catch my breath and run again. It took me about 8 bursts of running to make it to the tracks that I planned on running to in one effortless sprint. I did however feel a bit more confident that I wasn’t noticed.
I make it to the road that the cars were lined up on that runs beside the tracks. I cross the tracks and another swampy canal. This whole time pain has not been a concern of mine. A raw throat and a few cramps that I dealt with but my mind was elsewhere. And then came the fields from hell. I have very sensitive feet. I can’t walk on the beach, grass and certainly not a road barefoot. I am never barefoot. Now I find myself wearing wet socks and crossing fields of sun baked soil. The dirt was in baseball sized clumps and felt like walking on lava rocks. These fields never seemed to end and I had to cross 3 industrial sized lots of them. At a certain point I found it easier to smash my heel into the clumps with each step in hopes of turning it to dust. The pain was awful. But I just limped forward. As long as I wasn’t running, I could keep going. After crossing the 3 fields I came to the highway. THANK GOD!!!
The highway way no easier on the feet. This was some rough grave they pave these highways with. I tried flagging down cars, I tried throwing up my praying hand gesture, I tried putting my hand to my head, thumb to ear, pinky to mouth in the international phone sign. I tried everything. Nobody wants to help someone that looks the way I did. Filth head to toe, no shoes, limping.
I can’t blame them for not stopping so I needed a new plan. About a mile down the highway I found a cardboard box that held canned goods. A few hundred steps further and I found a shredded tire from a tractor trailer. I used it to write” PLEASE CALL 911”. This way nobody would have to stop for the psycho looking guy but they can at least call. But nobody did.
I walked 3 more miles showing that sign to every passing vehicle in each direction. I came up to a fence with 3 Mexican guys raking up some debris. I stumbled up to them and asked if they had a cell phone. One of them did and I asked him to call 911…and he did. I collapsed to the ground and sat and waited for my rescue.
The Sherriff arrived. He rolled down his window and asked if I was the one that needed help. Because it wasn’t obvious to him. I said yes and asked if he had any water. He said he’d get me one. The Sherriff stepped out of his SUV vehicle, gave me the water bottle and asked what happened to me. I took a painful swig of the water and the first words out of my dumb mouth were “I was being hunted”. He instantly went into high alert asshole mode. “Hands behind your head, turn around” he grabbed my wrists firmly and began to frisk me. He yelled out to the Mexicans “Did this guy threaten you?” the replied “no, he needed help”. “YOU’RE SURE YOU DIDN’T FEEL THREATENED?” “yes”.
That was all of the story he ever wanted to hear. He asked me what drugs I smoked. I told him I never smoked anything in my life other than weed and I haven’t even smoke that in 6 months. He said he didn’t believe me and I’m not telling him everything. Which is funny because he didn’t let me tell him anything at all. I volunteered for a drug test to prove it. He said we don’t have time for that. He said in the biggest asshole attitude he could muster “What do you want me to do?” I said, file a police report. “And what will that accomplish?”
At this point I just thought fuck it and asked if he could drive me to my camp so I could retrieve my wallet. He said yes and implied that he would leave me there. I told him if he was going to leave me there that I’d rather not go. He really wanted to see my ID, so he said depending how things go, he’d bring me back to Niland to call for a tow truck.
On the way to Slab City, he was running my name, SSN, address and all that and kept asking the same questions in different ways. I AM NOT HIGH. I told him exactly why I was there and how long I was staying. He was getting pissed off because he couldn’t hear me. Sorry asshole, I ate sand and my voice is destroyed but you don’t want to know anything about that. (no, I did not say that to him)
We arrive at my camp and he sees my tin can barrier and tells me I have been here way longer than a day. I guess my 15 minutes of gathering cans that litter the area cannot be done in a single day. To my surprise and relief, Cooper is at the camp. Amazing! He approaches me with his head hung low. Poor guy, he didn’t do anything wrong. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t stay hidden if he didn’t escape.
I give him my ID and he runs it again. No warrants, no jail time, no nothing…happy asshole? At a certain point on the ride to town he comes around and realizes that I’m not a tweaker. He starts being much nicer to me and offers the number to 3 tow truck companies and a lock smith to make a new key. Hell, he even called my mother the next day to check on me and see if I was ok and the car got towed. I’m just bitter about the ¾ of the way he treated me and the fact that he didn’t even want to hear my story even after he realized I am not a meth head or high on anything.
The tow truck guy told me he picks of vehicle from Slab City all the time and he doesn’t go there unarmed. He said he had to pick up a camper with a dead man in the back and while he was pulling away, 2 men were trying to get into the camper to loot it. He had to tell them he called the police and scare them off with a pipe. Lovely place.
So, moral of the story…
I’m a dumbass and Slab City is free of charge, free from the law and is truly the last free place in America AND IT SUCKS!
$300 Supplies to spend up to a month camping in Slab City plus what I already had
$300 gas to drive to California from New Hampshire
$150 motel rooms
$30 fast food
$600 Samsung Galaxy lost to the desert
$150 new cheap ass Android phone
$150 hunting knife lost to the desert
$250 tow to nearest city
$250 locksmith (2 days to make key)
$210 motels
$50 food
$300 gas from California to New Hampshire
My nightmare cost me a grand total of $2740 for 9:30pm Fri- 7:00am Sun
John Wayne Preferred to Handle his Communist, Would-Be Assassins Himself
Nobody knows exactly how many people were sent to their deaths by Joseph Stalin. Many objective historians put the minimum number at 60 million. Most Russian researchers, who have examined the once top-secret Soviet archives, agree with the 60 million minimum figure. Stalin, like most people who become Communists or Socialists, had significant psychological problems. He was a paranoid man who saw enemies everywhere and who could not tolerate opposing viewpoints- even when those viewpoints were proven to be correct. Sound familiar? Every part of pre-Soviet, Russian history which was in conflict with his communist ideology had to either be revised, publicly repudiated or eliminated from history books altogether. Gee, I’m glad this doesn’t happen anymore.
Stalin was the man who famously said, “a single death is a tragedy. A million deaths is just a statistic.” In the mass murder department, Stalin dwarfed Hitler’s six million murders which amounted to little more than a so-so calendar year for the Soviet dictator. While Hitler preferred to finish off his victims with poisonous gas, Stalin believed his victims should first be tortured then, placed in gulags or “work camps” under minimal rations until they died from starvation, disease or the regular beatings the condemned received from NKVD camp guards. Stalin’s view was that the condemned should be of use to the Communist state as they were slowly killed off- men, women, their children and the elderly.
Joseph Stalin was a huge fan of American western movies and would often have the latest American Western films rushed into the Soviet Union the USSR’s best actors would hastily dub over the dialogue in Russian. He would often keep his underlings such as Nikita Khrushchev, Gregory Malenkov and the incredibly evil head of the Soviet secret police, Lavrentiy Beria, with him until the wee hours watching American Western movies.
After each movie, Stalin would critique the film, to his underbosses, for both for its political content and artistry. He saw himself, like a Western movie hero. As a protector who, after gunning down his antagonist, rode off into the sunset, content with having saved the day.
When Soviet filmmaker and Communist Party member, Sergei Gerasimov, attended a so called “peace conference” held in New York City in 1949, he learned about John Wayne and his anti-communist beliefs from other American Communists who had organized the event. These American communists, knowing that Gerasimov had Stalin’s ear, told the Soviet filmmaker to relay to Stalin that, “something needed to be done with John Wayne.” Communist all over the world despised Wayne for his film characters who represented the American values of freedom, self-reliance and the individual over the collective. Wayne himself was an outspoken critic of both communism and its ugly, evil twin- socialism.
Knowing that Stalin admired Wayne, when Gerasimov returned to the Soviet Union he immediately told the dictator about John Wayne. Stalin became furious over Wayne and his films were banned in the USSR theresfter. Interestingly enough, Stalin continued to have Western films brought into the Soviet Union for his viewing which starred the likes of Randolph Scott, Tim Holt, Tex Ritter, Gene Audrey and even Ronald Reagan. In a strange twist of fate, that neither Stalin nor anyone else could have predicted, it would later be Reagan who as the US President, would place the Communist empire of evil onto the ash heap of history.
Stalin seethed for weeks over the revelation about John Wayne. Stalin himself had identified with Wayne more so than any other cinematic Western hero. Soon, a plan was put in place. Stalin ordered Beria to dispatch NKVD assassins to California to assassinate Wayne. Stalin also involved local American Communist Party members, who were accustomed to taking their orders from Moscow, to assist. Local American communist cells in Southern California had already been threatening Wayne as well as other anti-Communist movie stars such as Ronald Reagan, Jimmy Stewart, Randolph Scott and Bob Hope.
According to Michael Munn, a film historian and author of “John Wayne — The Man Behind The Myth,” Wayne learned of the plan through FBI agents. Other sources corroborate Munn’s claim with some indicating that Wayne first laughed them off saying, “they wouldn’t dare.” Finally, when FBI director, J. Edgar Hoover personally telephoned Wayne about the plot, an annoyed Duke told Hoover, “Let them come. I’ll take care of them on myself!”
Wayne was quite serious. He was appalled by the notion that he needed the government’s help in dispatching what he referred to as, “some communist scum.” Unlike traditional actors who can affect different characters, physical traits and accents, John Wayne was merely a performer who simply portrayed himself, as he really was, on film. Wayne or “Duke” as he was fondly referred to by his industry peers, was every bit the man’s man he portrayed on the silver screen. The sharp shooting former USC football star felt he could handle the Red assassins on his own. “Besides,” Duke said, “The FBI will be far nicer to those Communist bastards than I will be.
The communist assassins, first sent to the Soviet Embassy in Mexico, eventually made their way into the United States through the porous and largely unguarded Mexican/US border. Some things just never change. Wayne kept in touch with the FBI and some of his stuntman friends (Wayne himself performed his own film stunts) infiltrated various Communist Party cells in the Los Angeles area at Wayne’s request. These plants were able to provide Wayne with even more intelligence that the FBI.
According to Munn’s book, Wayne and tough guy Hollywood scriptwriter, Jimmy Grant, were waiting for the Communist assassins who were assisted in their murderous plot by local American Communist Party members. When the Soviet NKDV killers made their way onto Wayne’s property, the Duke and Grant got the drop on them. Other sources, apart from Munn, say Wayne disarmed the Soviets then, “roughed them both up pretty good.” Duke was amused over how the communist agents cowered before him.
Wayne and Grant tied up the two assassins and placed them in the trunk of Duke’s car. The pair drove their would be assassins, under cover of a moonless night, to a deserted section of the Southern California coast. On a deserted beach, Duke and Grant staged a mock execution. Duke laughed over how the supposedly Soviet tough guys pleaded for their lives- as so often most Communists do near the point of their demise. Wayne decided he had had enough amusement from the bungling assassins and called one of his FBI contacts who picked up the beaten and embarrassed pair. Munn explains, in his book that the NKDV assassins chose to stay in the United States and work with the FBI. I suppose after seeing America, in all it’s abundance, it must have been an easy choice for them to make. It appeared that not even Soviet NKDV agents would want to return to their communist homeland after seeing how well people lived in these United States. The NKDV agents were also instrumental in identifying American Communist traitors within the United States.
Yet, as Munn’s book points out, there would be more communist plots to kill Wayne. The book also explains how Soviet agents tried to assassinate John Wayne on the set of 1953’s Hondo in Mexico. After the Russian assassins failed, a group of American communists, from a cell within the Los Angeles suburb of Glendale, also failed in their later attempt. Still later, as Duke visited soldiers and Marines in Vietnam during the 1960s, where he was enthusiastically received by the G.I.s, a captured North Vietnamese sniper claimed that he was hired by communists to take the actor out on his visit to troops there. Duke, was again amused to hear of these incidents and seemed saddened that the government got to his would be killers, “before I could have some fun with them.” Liberals forever hated Duke for his criticisms of Communism which they undoubtedly recognized as being too similar to their own dysfunctional views. Lenin praised socialism as the pathway to communism while recognizing that Western liberalism was the pathway to socialism.
Shortly after his inauguration, in late January of 1981, newly minted President Ronald Reagan began a series of meetings with key advisors and administration officials. The subject of these meetings concerned the formation of Reagan’s plan to bring down the communist and totalitarian Soviet Union. Reagan understood the innate flaws of both communist ideology and the application of Marxist principles in governance. In short, Reagan realized that Communism, like it’s watered down siblings- socialism and liberalism, simply doesn’t work. He was aware of the severe problems adherence to communist doctrine had visited upon the people of the Soviet Union and it’s Eastern European allies. Namely, the harsh and massive shortages in food and housing as well as the the stores, all across the nation, which were bare of basic consumer goods. Much like we see in the few remaining communist countries in the world today: Cuba, Venezuela and North Korea.
Reagan told his advisors and select cabinet secretaries that the status quo, of perpetual proxy wars while the Communists and Free world remained locked in a high stakes cold war, was unacceptable. Further, that Communism was a evil system and that the United States should focus on victory over the the USSR as opposed to an antagonistically tense Cold War status quo. The new Reagan policy toward the Soviet Union and it’s communist allies represented a radical break from break past administrations which had settled for mere coexistence and, in some cases, appeasement.
Reagan proclaimed that Marxism-Leninism would be left on the “ash heap of history.” On March 8, 1983, with his program to bring down the Soviets having already been placed into action, Reagan proclaimed in his famous “Evil Empire” speech, “I believe that communism is another sad, bizarre chapter in human history whose last pages even now are being written.”
This speech was given by Reagan a year after Reagan’s covert attack to bring down the USSR was initiated. As Reagan defense secretary Casper Weinberger would later say, “We adopted a comprehensive strategy that included economic warfare, to attack Soviet weaknesses. It was a silent campaign, working through allies and using other measures. It was a strategic offensive, designed to shift the focus of the superpower struggle to the Soviet bloc, even the soviet union itself.” It was a bold plan. A stroke of genius on Reagan’s part.
The objectives and particulars of the offensive were set forth in a series of highly classified national security decision directives (NSDD) from Reagan to the applicable agency and department heads. NSDD-66 mandated that it would be the policy of the United States government to, “disrupt the Soviet economy by attacking a strategic triad of critical recourses that were deemed vital for the Soviet Union’s survival. The plan also called for direct covert action against the Soviet Union and it’s allies worldwide.
On the military side, the United States, under Reagan’s directives revamped it’s military with new equipment, vehicles, tanks and aircraft. This entire transformation of the United States military also included new systems which were significantly more technologically advanced than their counterparts in the Soviet Union. Reagan also directed the deployment of intermediate range nuclear missiles to US military bases in western Europe. These military advancements and deployments alone, sent the Soviet leaders into a panic and and caused them to divert significant resources from their civilian populace in a desperate attempt to keep up with the Reagan’s new American military. This worsened the USSR’s economic woes.
The Reagan offensive to take down the Soviet Union included the following:
The covert financial, intelligence and logistical support to the anti-communist Solidarity movement in Poland.
Heavy financial support to the Afghan rebels fighting Soviet occupation forces in Afghanistan.An orchestrated campaign to dramatically devalue the Soviet currency by driving down the price of oil and working with NATO allied countries to limit Soviet natural gas imports.
A sophisticated and detailed psychological operation to to fuel indecision and fear among Soviet leaders.
A worldwide campaign to limit Soviet access to high technology.
A widespread technological campaign designed to disrupt the Soviet economy.
An aggressive high-tech revamping and build-up of the US military which caused the USSR to severely strain and ultimately, exacerbate it’s resources. This included the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI).
Reagan’s plan succeed and had put the USSR and it allies on their heels within six years of the plan’s implementation. Yet, liberals are still fond of saying the hackneyed slogan, “Gorbachev ended the Cold War, not Reagan.” Yet, many of the Soviet leaders of the era seem to take strong exception to theh liberal slogan pertaining to their demise.
General Oleg Kalugin, an unrepentant communist and KGB leader said, “American (Reagan’s) policy in the 1980’s was a catalyst for the collapse of the Soviet Union.”
Yevgenny Novikov, another communist and former senior staff member of the Soviet Communist Party Central Committee said that Ronald Reagan’s policies toward the USSR “were a major factor in the demise of the Soviet system.”
Communist and former Soviet Foreign Minister, Aleksandr Bessmertnykh, told a conference at Princeton University that Reagan policies such as the Strategic Defense Initiative accelerated the decline of the Soviet Union.
In the fall of 1990, at a conference, organized in Moscow, which was put on at Harvard’s Kennedy School, liberals filled the hall to hear Communist officials from the former Soviet Union speak on the future of the new Russian Federation as well as that of the Communist ideology. Naturally, Ted Kennedy and some of his you his younger relatives were present. All through the audience, liberals were sadly lamenting the death of Communism and the fact the United States would now go unchecked in world affairs. To those liberals, as well as the liberals of today, the real enemy isn’t totalitarian Marxism but, the United States itself. Somber liberal voices could be heard, throughout the hall, trying desperately explain away the collapse of the Communist bloc countries.
“Really, the USSR and the Warsaw Pact countries only failed because they were not true representations of Socialism or Communism,” said a Harvard student with a straight face.
“Communism had done so much for the poor and oppressed masses in Europe,” professed a saddened leftist women who conveniently forgot to recall the 60 million murdered by Soviet and Eastern Bloc governments as well as the millions more who were enslaved in the various gulags.
Many in the crowd were simply looking for excuses for the USSR’s demise as well as assurances that there was still a future for Communism in our world. Thus, this progressive crowd was rocked to their core when when former leading communist and key Soviet economist Boris Pinsker took to the podium to address the crowd of his ideological kissing cousins- the liberal/progressive crowd in attendance.
The lefty American crowd warmly applauded Comrade Pinsker as he was introduced and walked up to the podium. At last we will learn the real reason for the collapse of the Communist governments and learn about the road map back the Socialism, the crowd seemed to collectively think to itself. They would soon be disappointed.
After a few introductory remarks, the former Soviet economist cut to the chase.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Pinsker began to speak through his Russian accent, “If it had not been for the Reagan defense buildup and if the United States had not demonstrated it’s willingness to stand up for freedom by devoting considerable sums of money to defend it, I would not be sitting here today having a free and open discussion between Russians and Americans. Ronald Reagan and his policies brought down my country and it’s strategic allies in Eastern Europe.” There was a brief pause as the liberal/progressive audience members looked at each other in frantically perplexed ways. Then it began. They hissed and then booed their erstwhile ideological ally. Some yelled out, “No!” Pinsker continued through the ruckus, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, ladies and gentlemen but, Ronald Reagan’s policies ruined our great Socialist experiment. I was, after all there.” The liberal audience continued to boo and hiss- now even louder. Select audience members bellowed out disparaging remarks. Ted Kennedy shook his head disapprovingly. Harvard professors wore looks of scorn. Another former Communists official, on the panel spoke out, “He speaks the truth!” More jeers from the audience followed. The scene recalled one of Ronald Reagans more famous sayings, “A liberal is someone who will defend, to their death, your right to agree with them.”
What the former Communist officials failed to realize is that American liberals can’t accept nor afford to have history accurately recorded as it would serve as a repudiation of everything they believe in. Instead of admitting the truth, they instead choose the easier route of distorting and revising historical facts- a tactic they learned well from their ideological bedfellows, the Communists themselves. Reagan himself would not have been surprised by the leftist crowd’s response. He knew all about liberals, socialist and communists from his years in Hollywood.
Reagan started off his adult life as a liberal Democrat- for sixteen years. He saw how Communists infiltrated the major movie studios. How they attempted to place, with some success, Communist ideology into film scripts. How they recruited actors, directors and writers. He witnessed, while serving as President of the Screen Actors Guild, how Communists with the help of their liberal benefactors, sought to take over the actor’s union. When Reagan, still himself a liberal, rebuffed the Communist subversion within his union, they threatened his life and also repeatedly threatened to have someone attack him by throwing acid in his face in order to ruin his successful and highly lucrative career as a screen actor.
It was the fact that so many liberals, in Hollywood, were willing to accommodate, if not overtly promote the Communist cause, that caused Reagan to reconsider his own liberal values. After continued threats of violence from local Communists in the Southern California area, Reagan finally decided to cooperate with the House Committee on Un-American activities. Reagan named the names as a friendly witness, and our country and society was better off for it.
As he often shared with his closest advisors, going back to his days as a successful Governor of California, “Liberalism, Socialism and Communism are all headed toward the same place- just at different speeds.” That “same place” was the end of capitalism, free speech, property rights, due process and complete government control of our daily lives. It’s still to this day, the very goal of the Liberal/Socialist/Communist Alliance. Only now, they’re much further along than in Ronald Reagan’s time.
The Historical Truth Project 