Some have suggested that the formation of the George Jackson Brigade was life imitating art vis-à-vis Woody Allen’s 1968 mockumentary, Take the Money and Run. The comedy which was written, directed by and starring Woody Allen tells the story of the world’s most incompetent criminal. The George Jackson Brigade took themselves quite seriously even though law enforcement referred to them as, “a disorganized band of inept criminals spouting left-wing drivel to cover their criminal behavior.” In the drivel department, the gang’s very motto, “The power of the people is the force of life,” was a meaningless, sappy if not, nebulous slogan which underscored the groups impotence as a self-proclaimed revolutionary force.
The group used the name of one George Jackson, a vile black racist who never met a white person he didn’t hate. He hated them all, including the white gas station attendant, he murdered in cold blood for $71.00. Naturally, his dumb ass was quickly captured. George later received a life sentence for his $71.00 murder.
Tired of the newspapers characterizing him as essentially a low-life, reprehensible scumbag George, who had a grade school education, decided to take on the new and more series persona of a Black Power activist. How convenient. George’s bold rebranding strategy worked and soon white liberals were calling George a “political prisoner.” Suddenly, Little George wasn’t merely a murderous, small-time douchebag career criminal but, a new “hero” in “the protracted struggle against the white devil.” George knew he had finally arrived when liberal white women started writing love letters addressed to him in prison. Yippie Yi yay! Little George actually reveled in his newfound celebrity among the white, liberal America hating subculture.
Unlike the group of white Leftists who would name their revolutionary group after him, George actually possessed a minimum level of competence as a criminal. In 1970, George with two fellow Black Power inmates murdered Soledad Prison guard John V. Mills who had a wife and small children at home. Upon murdering Mills, Jackson crowed, “this is the fate awaiting all blue-eyed devils!”
Jackson was transferred to San Quintin Prison where we he was killed during a daring escape attempt. After being shot by a guard, the Black Power revolutionary’s last pathetic words, spoken over an outstretched arm were, “I’m sorry…help me.” Jackson collapsed into the hereafter and undoubtedly received his First-Class ticket to board the Hell Express. The world briefly became a better place at that moment.
George’s bona fides as a serious, hardened criminal were unquestionable. The George Jackson Brigade membership however, bore a resemblance to the bumbling outlaws in the 1975 film, Disney’s The Apple Dumpling Gang. Perhaps the FBI best described the George Jackson Brigade when they stated, “The GJB’s operations were often undermined by their own lack of precision and a disconnect between their stated revolutionary goals and the outcome of their actions.” Translation: The George Jackson Brigade members were blundering, incompetent criminals who botched almost ever capper they ever attempted, sometimes with tragic results. Think Inspector Clouseau leaving the Sûreté and undertaking a life of crime. The George Jackson Brigade was an amateurish collection of Leftist oddballs who were bumbling accident-prone, would-be criminals lurching blindly from one mistake ridden crises to the next. Examples:
The Safeway bombing: One of the most infamous examples was the group’s first failed operation in 1975 against a Safeway grocery store in Seattle. The brigade intended to plant an explosive device in the store by hiding a pipe bomb in a dog food bag. How ingenious. A Brigade member called in a nervous, confused voice to warn Safeway of the bomb but, the idiot dialed the wrong number and called the Washington Athletic Club instead.
A WAC employee answered the the phone with chirpy, “Good morning, thank you for calling the Washington Athletic Club.”
The Brigade member then bewilderedly asked, “Hello…is this Safeway?”
The WAC employee stated, “No, this is the Washington Athletic Club.”
The Brigade member then idiotically inquired with a follow up, “Do you possibly know the phone number to the Safeway?”
Without a phonebook and afraid to dial information for the Safeway phone number for fear his call could later be traced, the clueless revolutionary made no further attempts to warn Safeway. This proved to be a tragic mistake.
So, the George Jackson Brigade didn’t want the bomb to actually explode. They merely wanted to intimidate the community and show that they knew how to make an explosive device. Unfortunately, GJB members thought that they had placed a safety mechanism on the bomb to keep it from detonating. Unfortunately, their bomb safety mechanism didn’t work, and the bomb actually did explode. This resulting explosion injured some shoppers and generated a public backlash, severely damaging the group’s public image and exposing the recklessness of their methods. The GJB also became a bit of a running joke among the people of Seattle. The GJB was attempting to establish itself as a revolutionary forced to reckoned with- if not feared. Yet they made a very poor first impression and would forever be branded as “armatures.” Soon a series of, “How many George Jackson Brigade members does to take to plant a bomb…” jokes made the rounds.
One of the jokes to make the rounds was as follows:
One George Jackson Brigade member says to another while planting a bomb, “what will happen if this one explodes while we are installing it?”
The other George Jackson brigade responds:
“Don’t worry I’m carrying a spare!”
The Pacific National Bank Heist, Tukwila, WA. On January 23, 1976, four emboldened members of the GJB, John Sherman, Ed Mead, Bruce Seidel and John Cook walked into the Pacific National Bank. Seidel slipped the bank teller a misspelled robbery note with illegible penmanship.
“I’m sorry, what is this?” The teller asked. The confused bank teller couldn’t make heads or tails of the note.
“Would you just read it…please,” Seidel skittishly begged with sweat beads forming on his brow.
“I’m sorry sir, I can’t read your handwriting, may I have your account number and some identification please?” The Teller requested.
“This…is a stick up… bitch!” A now very panicked Seidel screamed for all to hear then, brandished a gun.
The bank teller hit the alarm button and Seidel’s GJB accomplices drew their weapons as John Sherman admonished Seidel out loud to, “stick to the plan man!”
Mead and Cook ordered everyone to the ground. The luckless foursome had expected to be out of the bank within 60 seconds, yet it took much longer to collect the money than they had anticipated. Meanwhile, a couple of GJB members started rattling off leftist slogans for the edification of the bank’s customers, turning the capper into a briefly improvised 60’s style, teach-in. Despite the delay in gathering the money from the bank, the criminal’s ringleader, John Sherman, wasn’t too worried. The group had placed a number of bombs in local hotels that were expected to detonate during the planned robbery in order to divert local police resources away from the bank. Yet- surprise, surprise! – these diversionary bombs never detonated, and a group of local police officers arrived as the bungling criminals were exiting the bank.
John Sherman opened fire on the police. And the incompetent criminal foursome immediately received return fire. Founding GJB member Bruce Seidel was cut down when he attempted to squeeze off a round at the police. His gun didn’t fire, and things might have gone better for Seidel had he bothered to notice that his weapon was still in safety mode and further, that there was no round in the chamber. Sherman, who stood a few yards away from Seidel’s dead body, took a police officer’s bullet to his face. He dropped with his hands in the air and begged, “Please, no more! Don’t shoot!” Comrade Che would have been proud.
The Downfall. The GJB continued their streak of incompetent robberies and other criminal capers until they were all captured and an sent away to prison. One FBI agent perhaps summed up the unclimactic end of the GJB best, “They never got any better at it (crime). They never improved or learned from their mistakes. It was always one bungled job after the next.”
With the GJB members all in prison, some area residents lamented about the loss of the comedic fodder they enjoyed so much from the GJB’s prolific blunders. The George Jackson Brigade jokes soon became just an old memory for those who lived through that time. Virtually all of the GJB members are dead now. Most were released from prison before they died. In the end, one should ask, What if anything did the George Jackson Brigade accomplish?
The answer is simply this: Apart from the comedic entertainment inspired by their doomed foray into criminality which so many enjoyed, they accomplished nothing.
Lieutenant Commander Marcus Aurelius Arnheiter Testifies Before Congress
“The Caine is an old, tired ship,” explained Navy Lieutenant Commander William De Vriess to Ensign Willie Keith in the novel, The Caine Mutiny. Those same words would have been an accurate description of the USS Vance an Escort Destroyer, on December 22, 1965, when the US Navy sent one of its up-and-coming officers with a stellar record, to take command of the Vance (DE-387). Who was that officer? His name was Lieutenant Commander Marcus Aurelius Arnheiter, a graduate of the United States Naval Academy who had been promoted to Lieutenant Commander ahead of his peers in July of 1962 based on his outstanding record. He was considered a strong contender for another “below the zone” or early promotion to Commander after his tour as the skipper of the USS Vance. Arnheiter enjoyed a reputation as being “intelligent, well-spoken and full of energy.” He had been previously praised for his outstanding service as an officer aboard the battleship, USS Iowa. After his stint on the Iowa, Arnheiter provided intelligence briefings and analysis to the Navy’s top leadership at the Pentagon- a plum staff assignment reserved for high performing officers. Arnheiter had caught the eye of more than one Admiral in this assignment and on his last Officer Fitness Report (NAVPERS 310) was considered one who showed the potential to serve at the “highest echelons of the US Navy’s command structure.”
That “old, tired ship” the USS Vance, was an underperforming vessel with morale problems. It wasn’t that the crew was bad. As is most often the case, the morale problems aboard the USS Vance stemmed from a lack of strong leadership. The Navy’s top brass thought sending in an officer of Anteiter’s high caliber would retore morale and high-performance levels on the Vance. On the eve of his taking command of the Vance, Arnheiter received a congratulatory telegram from Navy Chief of Operations, Admiral David L. McDonald.
After assuming command of the USS Vance, Arnheiter noticed as he was warned, that the destroyer was in lackluster shape- The aging WWII vintage ship was viewed by many of the enlisted crew as an outdated “beaten-up old tub.” The previous lack of proper leadership had caused discipline on the Vance to become lax, and the ship had deteriorated into a messy, cluttered heap with patches of rust. The old destroyer seemed to be in constant need of repair. Many of the Vance’s officers appeared to have a lackadaisical attitude toward their duties. Shortly after the official Change of Command ceremony onboard the Vance, Arnheiter met with his officers in the destroyer’s wardroom and informed those junior officers that significant changes needed to be made right away. It all made sense- right? A new captain comes aboard a troubled, floundering ship and insists on making changes. For Lieutenant Commander Marcus Aurelius Arnheiter, this is where his problems would begin.
Of the Vance’s fifteen officers among the crew of over 100 men, Arnheiter was the only Regular Navy Officer. The rest held Navy reserve Commissions and most seemed to have done ROTC in college to avoid eventually being drafted into the Army. By and large, they were not career offices as Arnheiter was. The Vance was one of the destroyers to participate in Operation Market Time, the Navy’s effort to prevent seaborne infiltration from the Viet Cong along the South Vietnamese coast as well as the interdiction of maritime vessels carrying weapons and military supplies for the same. Most of the officers on the Vance seemed to be just marking time and appeared to lack enthusiasm for their important mission. Many of these junior officers aboard the Vance set a poor example for the rated enlisted sailors who comprised the crew. Arnheiter put his foot down and insisted that his officers be clean shaven and that they be in the proper uniform while the destroyer was underway. Arnheiter demanded that his officers set the proper example for the enlisted sailors in their charge.
The grumbling and disdain these officers held for Arnheiter began shortly after they were told to clean up. Arnheiter would conduct meetings with his officers geared toward improving morale aboard the Vance. They were pep talks in a way, and all Captains of ships in the Navy did them and still do. Arnheiter would sometimes open these meetings with his junior officers by reading a prayer from the United States Naval Institute’s book, Prayer’s at Sea. The recitation of such prayers was not uncommon in the 1960s US Navy. He would also use examples of famous American fighting men from history to motivate his mostly unenthusiastic officers to improve and set high personal standards. This was customary for a Captain to do at the time. Some of his liberal officers took offense over Arnheiter’s daring to recite prayers from the Navel institute book and took their grievances to a handpicked and wild-eyed, liberal Navy Chaplin in a letter of complaint. The Chaplin, a Roman Catholic seemed more interested in what we might call today “woke social justice,” than in promulgating the Gospel of Jesus Christ or for that matter, the mission of the military.
Arnheiter was singled mindedly driven to turn the Vance around. Most of the enlisted sailors were happy to see higher standards and discipline being enforced. Sailors, like all other servicemen desire to serve in an organization or on a ship that they can take pride in and reflects highly upon them and their work.
Among most of the Vance’s junior officers, the story seemed to be quite different. These individuals were serving their time in a relatively safe and comfortable environment compared the Marines and Army soldiers fighting in Vietnam. The junior officers onboard the Vance were simply biding their time until they were released back into the civilian world where they could pursue their intended careers or professions. They seemed to have no problem with the slack ship. In short a rebellion was forming onboard the Vance. A mutiny of sorts. History shows us that almost all mutinies on naval ships are from “below deck.” This meaning that it is almost always the enlisted sailors who rebel against their Captain and the other officers. Here, however it seems this cowardly if not strangely passive aggressive mutiny, was the product of the rebellious atheistic liberal streak among a number of the Vance’s junior officers who seemed to have other places they would rather be than serving their country in a war zone.
These rebellious officers created a “Mad Marcus” logbook to write down their collective complaints against and jokes about their accomplished commander. It should be noted that this act alone was sufficient to have these men charged with military Non-Judicial Punishment or even a Courts Martial for both disrespect to a superior officer as well as insubordinate conduct unbecoming a Naval officer. Article 89 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice dictates that “Any person…who behaves with disrespect toward his superior commissioned officer shall be punished as a court martial shall direct. This cabal of disgruntled officers made it their new life’s mission to take their Captain down for no other reason that he wanted to clean up the USS Vance.
The letter written by some of the officers serving on the Vance was acted upon by the liberal Chaplin stationed in Pearl Harbor. This Catholic Chaplin stubbornly hounded the chain of command until finally they relented and decided to send another Chaplin handpicked by the liberal Catholic Chaplin, to visit the USS Vance to take a sensing of the command climate.
This very liberal Protestant Chaplin with under six months of Navy service and who was the choice of the liberal catholic Chaplin, first met with the group of disgruntled junior officers onboard the Vance. One must keep in mind that at this point, nobody was denying that drastic and positive changes were happening on the USS Vance. Standards were restored. Morale was up. The destroyer no longer “looked like a heap” and the enlisted crew members were performing well and once again took pride in their ship.
Despite the positive turnaround, the disgruntled junior officers leveled complaint after complaint against Arnheiter to the young investigating Chaplin- most of which amounted to a subjective analysis of the job their Captain was doing. Finally, when the rookie Chaplin asked them to file written charges against Arnheiter they all, to a man, balked. How odd. Later, several senior Petty Officers (NCOs) where interviewed by the investigating Chaplin. Those Petty Officers expressed admiration for the work Arnheiter was doing in turning the ship around and reported no major disgruntlement among the enlisted sailors. The Chaplin later issued his report. Case over. Issue resolved. Right?
Unfortunately, no. In his report, the young investigating Chaplin took the information provided by the mutinous officers and he ran with it. He added his own ill-informed, progressive 1960s esque opinions of the overall situation. He then took a bizarre step further and compared the junior officer’s refusal to obey Arnheiter’s orders as akin to the duty of refusal imputed the defendants at the Nuremberg War Crimes Trials. Yes, really. “I was only following orders” would be no excuse for obeying the evil tyrant Arnheiter.
After a successful combat operations off the coast of South Vietnam, the USS Vance arrived in Subic Bay, The Philippines. At exactly 8:00 PM that evening, a Navy Commadore boarded the USS Vance, located Lieutenant Commander Arnheiter and informed him that he had been relieved of command pending an investigation. Arnheiter, the destroyer Captain with an impeccable military record now out of the blue, faced a ruined career and professional humiliation over the malicious accusations of a faction of disgruntled and indolent junior officers who resented the discipline and high standards enforced by the Captain who they referred to as a “lifer,” a derogatory name for a career officer. Arnheiter had been Captain of the Vance for only 99 days.
Shortly after Arnheiter left the Vance, some of the disgruntled officers began circulating against Navy regulations, spurious documents and drawings mocking their former skipper. Many of the Petty Officers aboard the Vance where appalled by the sophomoric antics of these junior Commissioned Officers. This bound collection of vulgar descriptions and vile caricatures of Arnheiter took on the very trappings up of stateside subversive hippie style counterculture magazines peddled in 1960s San Francisco. This alone should have had these young impudent officers placed before a courts martial.
There were initial concerns over the way Arnheiter was relieved of command given that Navy regulations called for such accusations like those made by some of his junior officers to be delivered in writing to the Captain while affording him an opportunity to respond. Instead, a brief hearing was conducted after Arnheiter was relived. Witnesses were called who were both favorable and unfavorable toward Arnheiter. In the end, the single senior officer presiding over the hearing for some inexplicable reason, sided with the junior officers over the objections of the NCOs and the decision to relive Lieutenant Commander Arnheiter was sustained. Arnheiter faced a rush to judgment, and this perfunctory and brief hearing constituted a denial of his right to due process.
The hearing officer forwarded his findings of this hastily conducted proceeding to the commander of the Pacific Cruiser-Destroyer Force Rear Admiral Walter H. Baumberger, for his approval. Baumberger was shocked over the entire proceeding which he believed amounted to trivial and unfounded charges by a group of disgruntled and unprofessional junior officers. He dismissed all of the numerous charges against Arnheiter save three which he marked as “insignificant or frivolous.” Further, Admiral Baumberger wanted answers as to why this superb naval officer with an impeccable record was subjected to the humiliating act of being whisked away from his ship and run through what amounted to an “improper, non-regulation kangaroo court.” Baumberger saw the rebellious attitudes of 1960s American university students seeping into the minds of certain junior officers who were themselves, recent college graduates.
Again, for some unexplained reason, the Navy Department of Personal overruled Admiral Baumberger and reinstated the relieve for cause order against Arnheiter. For his part, Arnheiter didn’t give up. With more information having been provided to him by the mostly loyal enlisted crew, Arnheiter was able to present a complete picture through this additional evidence, of the concerted effort on the part of a faction of junior officers to subvert his authority on the ship and thwart his efforts to retore discipline and high standards of conduct aboard the Vance. The picture painted indicated that the wrong man had been punished. The documented evidence of these junior officer’s attempts to “covertly sabotage” Arnheiter’s efforts to rehabilitate the USS Vance, were provided to the Secretary of the Navy.
Perhaps the gist of the situation was best explained by one of the Vance’s senior Petty Officers in his declaration, “The trouble was that people (junior officers) had been too used to being lazy and didn’t want to change. As soon as he (Arnheiter) left, everything slumped again.”
The Commander of the Battleship USS New Jersey, Captain Alexander had read the charges against Arnheiter and sent a letter to the Secretary of the Navy in support of Arnheiter. Soon, the issue reached the hallowed halls of the US Congress. The House Armed Services Committee took up Arnheiter’s cause, and five days of hearings were held which essentially lambasted the Navy’s actions in summarily relieving Arnheiter. The Committee Chairman and other members of congress sent a letter to the Secretary of the Navy demanding Arnheiter’s reinstatement and disciplinary action against the mutinous junior officers abord the USS Vance. In all, 88 members of the United States Congress signed a petition to the Secretary of the Navy asking for Arnheiter to be reinstated and for the unseemly blot on his otherwise impeccable career to be removed. Yet, no action was taken.
Perhaps this talented and dedicated naval officer was the first unjustly persecuted victim in what today is known as the “cancel culture.”
Kenneth Anger (1927-2023) was a gay underground filmmaker. He was also handsome, talented, cultured, intelligent, erudite, petty, narcissistic, prickly, rude, antisemitic, racist and a card-carrying Satanist as well as a prolific if not a pathological liar. When he died in 2023 at the age of 96, he hadn’t made a real film of any kind since Richard Nixon was President- over 50 years prior. So, the logical question follows, why is this guy celebrated by anyone?
Anger made only silent movies (no dialogue, just musical scores). His films were chalked with homoerotic, and Satanic themes as well as at times, Nazi imagery and symbols. He seemed to have had a gay fetish over muscular Nazi uniformed men, clad in black leather. I wonder if anyone had ever bothered to tell Mr. Anger that, had he lived in Nazi Germany and flaunted his homosexuality there as he did in America, some predatorily grinning, jack-booted, Nazi thug would have slapped a pink Star of David on his lapel and tossed him into the first open railroad cattle car destined for Treblinka?
So, let’s begin by addressing Mr. Anger’s racism and bigotry. Anger glorified Nazism in his peculiarly weird film, Scorpio Rising (1964) and others. When challenged on this, he upped the ante by making antisemitic remarks which are unfit to print here and further stated that, “on black people, I’m somewhere to the right of the KKK.” Anger was known for his antisemitic tirades. He paid the price for this once after going on a drug fueled antisemitic rant in Manhattan’s gay West Greenwich Village one evening the 1980s. His diatribe reached the ears of the wrong Jew who pummeled Anger in response. Yet, the brutal ass whipping Anger suffered would do little to deter him from making future antisemitic and racist outbursts.
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” Sir Walter Scott.
Let’s face it, we all tell lies at some point in our lives. Sometimes the lies we tell are big. Sometimes they’re small little “white lies.” As for Kenneth Anger, he had a history of telling some real whoppers. Especially so, when those lies could advance his career or reward him financially. By way of example, for most of his life he claimed to have played the role of the Changeling Prince in the major 1935 Hollywood film, A Midsummer Night Dream. Yet all associated with this motion picture who were still alive, refuted these claims. The Film’s production records including daily cast calls, time sheet logs and payroll ledgers all dispute this as well. In reality, the role of the of the Changeling Prince was played by child actress Sheila Brown. Confronted with this, Anger still refused to back down and falsely insisted to his dying day, that he played the role when he obviously did not.
If at first you don’t succeed, lie, lie again. In order to dig himself out of a financial hole, Mr. Anger wrote a book titled Hollywood Babylon (1959). The book seemed to consist primarily of unfounded rumors and yarns Anger had heard over the years, in Hollywood’s gay drinking establishments and on the bath house circuit. There would be one follow up book that was published in 1984 titled Hollywood Babylon II. Both books were full of sensationalist lies and made-up anecdotes. In its review, the New York Times said of it, “If a book such as this can be said to have charm, it lies in the fact that here is a book without one single redeeming merit.” The Daily Beast described Anger’s book as “essentially a work of fiction.” There is no doubt that many—if not all—of the stories Anger shares in his slim bible have no merit.” Film historian Kevin Brownlow repeatedly criticized the book, citing Anger lies by writing that his research appeared to have been done through “mental telepathy, mostly.”
Both books resulted in lawsuits from various celebrities named in the works. Despite this, Anger was able to secure a publisher for Hollywood Babylon III which was scheduled to be published in 2015. However, that publisher backed out and refused to print the work as Kenneth Anger couldn’t substantiate the sensationalist claims he had made in his manuscript. Further, the publisher was receiving litigation threats from law firms representing Tom Cruise and other Hollywood heavyweights. Throughout his life, Anger demonstrated an enthusiastic willingness to lie and an overarching propensity to exploit the shortcomings and tragedies of others. The Hollywood Babylon series of books were not his first nor last attempt to do so.
A little exploitation with your coffee, Mr. Anger? While filming Scorpio Rising (1964) Anger was shooting some “B-roll” of a 1963 motocross race. Then, right before his camera lens, a motorcyclist took a turn too sharply causing him to be thrown from his bike where he landed on his shoulder and neck as his family and friends looked on in horror. He likely died instantly. Yet Anger was giddy over the unanticipated development. Anger saw an opportunity to exploit the recorded death of this man à la the later unrelated film, Faces of Death (1978) made by John Alan Schwartz. This, in order to gain a larger audience for his movie. The hapless motorcyclist was not part of the motorcycle gang which Anger was documenting in his film, and he was in no way related to the film’s theme or plot. He was only included in the picture because he died, and because his death was inadvertently captured on Anger’s 16mm motion picture camera. Today, this unfortunate man’s children have the ability to relive their father’s horrific death- with the footage remastered in clear, vivid color. How classy of you, Kenneth. In response to the heavy criticism over using the man’s death in his film, Anger callously retorted, “Look, I’m sorry the guy died but, it’s not like I tripped him.”
Anger was all too happy to work with part-time musician and full-time Charles Manson “family member,” Bobby Beausoleil. Beausoleil was doing a life sentence in a California penitentiary for the 1969 murder of a small-fry drug dealer and UCLA PhD candidate, named Gary Hinman who was also a “friend of the Manson family.” In fact, Kenneth Anger was known by the Manson family as well, and he was on friendly terms with Bobby Beausoleil, who occasionally supplied Anger with drugs.
At Gary Hinman’s home on July 27, 1969, Charles Manson got the homicidal party started when he lopped off one of Hinman’s ears with a sword. He then exited the “scene” and left Beausoleil to kill Hinman with the assistance of a couple of female family members- Susan Atkins and Mary Brunner. Hinman died an anguishing, torturous death. As he was being mortality stabbed multiple times by Beausoleil, Hinman began reciting a Buddhist chant. This seemed to only fuel the bloodlust of Beausoleil and his cohorts Atkins and Brunner, who all took turns smothering Hineman with a pillow until he finally died.
After Hineman passed into the hereafter, one or more of the Manson family threesome, gruesomely used his blood to write slogans on the wall similar to what Manson family members would later do the following month, during the Tate-LaBianca murders. None of this appeared to bother Kenneth Anger in the least.
Anger was working on his own personal magnus opus in the early 1970s, Lucifer Rising (1972). At that time, Manson and his family were still as topical as ever. There were talk shows, documentaries, television interviews, magazine features and even motion pictures about the Manson family. Most people however, wouldn’t have had anything to do with Charles Manson or his sycophantic followers personally. However, the same could not be said of Kenny “Exploitation” Anger.
“What a great idea I have to get people talking about my upcoming film. I’ll use Manson family member Bobby Beausoleil to do the musical score from prison!” Anger never spoke these preceding words aloud but undoubtedly he harbored these very thoughts. To think otherwise, would be naivety personified.
There were only a thousand or so competent composers and musicians offering their services to score films at the time. Does anyone truly believe Anger went through the list and upon finding no composers to his liking, barked to his assistant, “To hell with Jerry Goldsmith and Henry Mancini! Get me that Manson family kid in prison for murder! Beausoleil is clearly the best man for the job!”
Kenny indeed offered the job to Bobby Beausoleil and in so doing, exploited the Manson family infamy to gain publicity for his film. His self-promoting gimmickry dishonored the Manson family’s victims and proverbially speaking, he spat in the face of those victims’ still grieving family members. Perhaps Anger chose Beausoleil to score his film only because Charlie Manson, also a musician, was unavailable due to his being on San Quentin’s death row at the time. As expected, there was an uproar from segments of the media and a sizable portion of the public voiced outrage over Anger’s collaboration with the convicted Manson family murderer.
Yet, apart from getting copious publicity for the film, there was no financial windfall for Anger. His type of iniquitous works were not deemed fit for screening in mainstream cinemas of the era, and the Television stations of the day wouldn’t have touched him or his revolting “art,” even while wearing rubber gloves.
The film garnered no money to speak of, and it was a financial disaster both for Anger and its luckless distributors. It would be Anger’s last real film. His swan song. Nobody was willing to give him so much as a dime for his film projects thereafter.
Bitter over the film industry’s rejection of him, Anger would express unhinged rage toward other so-called avant-garde filmmakers- particularly Andy Warhol. Anger frequently exhibited hatred and professional jealousy over Warhol’s success in the medium of unconventional filmmaking. In 1980, likely during a during what had to have been a drug-induced rage, Kenneth Anger went up to Warhol’s townhouse house in Manhattan and threw paint on the front door while screaming profanities directed at Warhol. The problem for Anger was that the house was vacant. Warhol had moved out the month before. Again, Kenny was a day late and a dollar short- a recurring theme throughout his life.
Kenneth Anger was an odd, snarky old queen who never seemed to have met a single soul that he didn’t look down on. Anger had about as much humor in him as one might expect to find in perusing the Warren Commission Report. He always seemed to have a derogatory little quip on hand about everyone he ever encountered in his life. Never willing to accept his place on the outermost fringes of Hollywood, he placed himself on high as the ill-natured Judge of every person of importance in the film industry and beyond. Yet, his own shortcomings of charter were almost always more profound than of those he criticized.
He had no friends to speak of, only those unfortunate people who came into his life and of whom he could use for money, a place to stay or for free drugs. His own siblings despised him and as Anger disclosed in a 2013 interview with The Guardian, his older sister Jean referred to him as the “BCA or Birth Control Accident” child. He died as he lived most of his adult life, financially broke. During the last two decades of his existence, he resided in a modest apartment in his beloved Hollywood, which was located at 5533 Hollywood Blvd, Apt 434, Los Angeles, CA 90028.
So, circling back to my original question, why is this guy celebrated by anyone? Why do certain young people today make this prolific liar, antisemite, bigot, racist, exploiter, and doper into a cause célèbre?
Perhaps it’s all as simple as Sun Tzu once wrote over 2,500 years ago, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Mr. Anger made controversial, homoerotic films with Nazi and Satanic symbolism. All an anathema to the large conservative, Christian segment of the American society of his time and still today. The Left is always looking for allies and heroes in their war against American culture and its large conservative Christian element. In so doing they have been consistently willing to ignore the vilest of shortcomings in the people they make alliances with or in the case of Kenneth Anger, heroes of.
Herman Marks was born into a working-class family in Milwaukee, Wisconsin on August 1, 1921. Marks was a sexual deviant with an overriding compulsion to rape underaged girls- the younger the better, as he saw it. His propensity toward violent crime began in his early teens, and for the remainder of his life thereafter, he robbed, rapped, stole and brutally beat any hapless victim he could exploit when the opportunity presented itself. He was a loner and certified psychopath. When Herman was not committing violent felonies, he would drink, smoke, sniff, swallow or inject any illegal narcotic he could place his dirty little hands on. He had a grade school education and a creepy demeanor which repelled just about everyone he ever came in contact with. These credentials would later make him an ideal candidate for recruitment into Fidel Casto’s murderous, Communist guerrilla army in Cuba.
His last prison stretch was in Wisconsin’s Waupun State Penitentiary. A prison which was then set aside for the most violent and hardened of Wisconsin’s criminals. Upon learning of his assignment to Waupun, Herman naively assumed that he would fit right in and make fast friends among his fellow deviants. Unfortunately, Herman wasn’t particularly well received by his fellow convicts in Waupun. This was primarily for two reasons: First, the other inmates found him to be a “weirdo” in the extreme. Second, it was learned by the offender population that Herman was doing time for the rape of a sixteen-year-old girl which caused Marks to be branded in prison slang, as a “Broad Jumper.” Even prison Warden, John C. Burke would later describe Herman Marks as, “a real stinker.” This was no small distinction given the many other notorious and profoundly disturbed prisoners who were also incarcerated at Waupun then.
Marks acted like a tough guy when he was loose on the street brutalizing the elderly, women, teenaged girls and others weaker than him. In maximum-security prison, his tune changed. Once Marks’ profile was raised from his later activity in Cuba, journalists began seeking out interviews with those who knew him from before his nefarious deeds in service to Castro. One such person was Mathew “Matty” Brown who had served time with Marks in Waupun. Brown remarked:
“He (Marks) didn’t look like a punk. I mean, he had a good build. But all fish (new inmates) get tested by other Cons. He wouldn’t stand up for himself. He was a strange cat. Odd…man. Very odd… you know? Something was wrong with him… yeah, he was a punk.”
Perhaps only the infamous serial killer Ed Gein was hated more. Yet, Gein was housed in Waupun’s criminally insane ward, where the inmates couldn’t get to him. The same was not true for Marks. In Waupun, Marks quickly earned the nickname, “Frig Mouth.” In 1950’s prison slang, “Frig” means copulation. Need more be said? He survived two different attempts on his life from other inmates. Nothing about his difficult taste-of-your-own-medicine experience in Waupun changed his views on crime, criminality or the victims of the same. According to Herman Marks himself, it only reinforced his own personal ethos that, “…in this world there are only the strong and the weak. In nature, the weak are always victims of the strong or stronger.” How philosophical.
In 1956, Marks was released from the penitentiary. He had no job prospects nor a girlfriend waiting for him when he got out. In fact, Marks had never had a girlfriend. Although Marks was not an unattractive man, he had never been much of a hit with the opposite sex. Marks’ freaky weird persona tended to cause the needle on women’s internal Creep Meters to shoot deeply into the red zone. This was likely because prison psychiatrists diagnosed Marks as being both severely narcissistic and psychopathic. Thus, when not raping young girls, Marks spent most of his limited financial resources on buying encounters with prostitutes in Milwaukee’s red-light district. Even with these ladies for hire, there were still those who balked- no matter what price Marks was willing to pay. Among Milwaukee’s “working girls,” Herman Marks would became known as “Psycho Eyes.”
Marks’ release from prison in 1956, opened a host of fresh challenges for him. As it turned out, numerous people were eager to find Herman Marks so they could “talk with him.” Who were these people? Well, they included FBI agents, police detectives and other members of the law enforcement community from such far-flung places as New York, Maine, Michigan, Illinois, Indiana and more. All were keen to speak with Marks about serious crimes he was alleged to have committed such as, theft, armed robbery, burglary, assault, and of course, rape. Yet they were having difficulty finding him. This was only because when not snoozing on his mother’s couch, Marks had become a wandering street itinerant, sleeping wherever he could find a roof to have over his head. Word on the street regarding the different law enforcement agencies searching for Herman Marks, soon reached old “Frig Mouth.” Upon being apprised of the authorities’ efforts to find him, Marks deduced it might be wise for him to get as far away from Milwaukee as possible. There was just one problem. Mr. Marks had not so much as the proverbial pot to piss in, let alone the money needed to relocate to a far off region of the country.
For most people, this would pose a significant obstacle. However, unlike most people, Marks would demonstrate a certain resourcefulness when faced with his dilemma. Accordingly, Marks did what any red-blooded American career criminal would do under similar circumstances. He stole a series of cars then went on a four-day, multi-state crime spree where he mugged, pillaged, robbed, burgled and stole until he had enough money to make his way south the Florida, which is almost as far from Milwaukee as one can get while still remaining in the continental United States. Once in Maimi, he went on a drinking, drugging and prostitute fueled binge of hedonistic depravity.
In Florida, he had talked his way into a job working on a shrimp boat. He had done so by claiming to have served as a sailor in the US Merchant Marine. He lasted about three days on the shrimp boat until it became apparent that he didn’t know what the hell he was doing. There never was any definitive proof that he ever did in fact serve as a merchant mariner although Marks would continue to claim as much for most of his life.
He would also claim at various times that he had either served in the Army in WWII or during the war in Korea. These claims can be disproven. Although he was of military age during WWII, Marks had dodged the draft and was arrested and later charged with draft evasion. The draft evasion charge was dismissed as the Judge determined that his extensive criminal record would have precluded him from being eligible to serve in any branch of the US military. However, Marks was well versed in the use and maintenance of various firearms, going back to his childhood. His father was a bit of a gun nut. Those skills would later serve him well both as a criminal and in other future endeavors.
It was in Miami where he made some newfound criminal friends who alerted Marks to opportunities for those with his particular skill set, in Havana. There were many Mafia controlled hotels, nightclubs and casinos to be found in Havana, Cuba and the mobsters who ran them were purportedly always looking for men who weren’t afraid of “getting their hands dirty.” With the remaining booty from his crime spree, Marks was able to secure boat passage to Cuba. Shall we generously say it was the type of travel arrangement which didn’t require Mr. Marks to present his Passport upon arrival.
Marks made the rounds of the various mob owned casinos in Havana. He made less than a favorable impression on the Mafia operators. Marks had the type of repelling personality which caused others, including fellow criminals, to adopt an unflattering opinion of him. On his second day of job hunting, he visited The Hotel Plaza, a notorious Mafia owned casino in Havana. The assistant casino manager seemed to think Herman Marks might be a good addition to the of operation’s “muscle department.” Marks was invited back for a meeting with the man in charge of the operation, notorious mobster, Joe Stassi. After speaking with an excessively weird and cocky Marks for about ten minutes, Stassi saw right through his bullshit. Having heard enough, Stassi stood up and warned Herman Marks, “I never forget a face, Pal. You’d better hope I never see yours in this casino again.”
Marks was escorted off the premises and given a final warning to never return. As Herman Marks gloomily walked through Havana’s Vedado District, he undoubtedly contemplated his limited prospects. By his own admission, he knew only ten words of Spanish. He was almost out of money but, he couldn’t return to the United States as he was a wanted man. Marks then did what was quite predictable for him. He beat a hasty path in search of an oceanfront dive bar with the intention of getting drunk.
Marks’ wild eyed and unkempt appearance was in stark contrast to the throngs of affluent American tourists he walked amongst in his search a cheap, hole-in-the-wall bar. He finally found a darkly lit, seedy little joint away from the tourists, that suited him and his limited budget. The clientele seemed to be mostly fishermen and sailors. Marks took a long swig from his ice-cold beer and contemplated the limited options available to him given the seemingly irrevocable corner his choices has painted him into.
Yet in life, as one door closes, another may open. Just as Marks ordered a second beer with a shot of whiskey, he felt a warm pat on his shoulder.
“Herman?” The voice which spoke with a Cuban accent and had a pleasantly surprised tone.
Herman Marks turned to find one of his crewmates from the ill-fated Shrimp Boat job standing next to him in the bar. The Cuban was the only member of the small crew who had tried to help him learn his job. The other crew members had exhibited contempt for Marks as his lack of qualifications ultimately caused more work for them.
As a man with few friends, Marks enjoyed his reunion with the Cuban sailor. The two men drank, joked and laughed for several hours. Marks had told his friend of his unsuccessful attempts to find work at the local casinos. His friend responded by telling him that those casinos wouldn’t be around for long in any event. The Cuban told his former shipmate about the 26th of July Movement. A revolutionary force which he felt would ultimately succeed in overthrowing the government of Cuba because the people were allegedly opposed to the régime of Fulgencio Batista.
Marks asked the Cuban two questions: “Does the rebel army accept yanquis?” “Who would I see to join the 26th of July Movement?”
The next day, Marks purchased a bus ticket to the town of Manzanillo, which was then a sleepy little city nearly 500 miles to the east of Havana, nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Maestra mountain range. With nothing to lose, he decided to become a member of the Communist revolutionary army or die trying. Yet, the choice to join a Communist guerilla insurgency was a particularly odd decision for one Herman Marks.
Beginning in his late teens, Marks had developed a strong affinity for Adolph Hitler and the Italian Fascist leader, Benito Mussolini. He specifically agreed with Hitler’s warped racial dogma. He believed wholeheartedly that white people were a master race and viewed others of non-white ethnicity, particularly blacks, with disdain. He supported the idea of racial segregation and felt that as a white man, he should not have to suffer mingling with blacks. He considered Communism to be a sinister Jewish invention with the objective of world domination and Zionist supremacy. He also believed that Communism itself was a Jewish conspiracy to enslave the white race. In short, Marks was a despicable racist with a deluded if not perversely twisted, world view.
Upon arriving in Manzanillo, the man who believed that “Communism was the chosen vehicle of Jews to enslave the white, European race,” set out to ask anyone and everyone he encountered about how he would go about joining the Communist revolutionaries. It wasn’t long before Marks met two young Cubans who were also hoping to join Castro’s guerilla army. Marks and his two new companions decided to band together. They bought all the provisions that they could carry and set out into the jungle to find the rebels. After nearly three days and with their provisions waning, the trio of aspiring revolutionaries stumbled upon a guerrilla outpost
The jungle outpost was manned by a few dozen rebels and commanded by guerrilla Captain Paco Cabrera who, fortunately for Marks, spoke English. Captain Cabrera was initially suspicious of Marks’ intentions and taken aback by his strange demeanor. Cabrera spent a significant amount of time questioning the rather odd American. For his part, Marks spun some wild tales about his having served with distinction in the US Army during the Korean War where he claimed to have seen extensive combat. He also claimed to be a small arms expert. There was some truth to the latter statement as he had grown up using both pistol and rifle and was proficient in the cleaning and maintenance of many different firearms.
Marks’ two companions were welcomed into the rebel army as was Marks, despite Captain Cabrera’s reservations. Marks’ new comrades in arms within the small jungle guerilla garrison didn’t know quite what to make of him. He couldn’t speak Spanish and exhibited some peculiar behavior such as frequently talking or laughing to himself. This strange behavior prompted his fellow guerillas to label him as the “Loco Gringo.” A derisive moniker yes, but preferable to “Frig Mouth.”
Marks cachet among his fellow rebels improved considerably one day when he came upon a few of his fellow soldiers clumsily trying to disassemble a .30 Caliber M1 Carbine rifle. Newly minted guerrilla fighter Herman Marks intervened and showed his comrades how to properly disassemble, clean and maintain the weapon. Marks soon became responsible for the maintenance and repair of all firearms in his remote guerrilla base.
Marks would later be assigned to a unit ostensibly commanded by Che Guevara. Guevera was not a skilled battlefield tactician and delegated the tactical combat deployment of men to his subordinates. In Marks, Che immediately recognized a kindred spirit. Both men were diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder and both were Psychopathic. Both men avoided direct combat whenever they could, and both would become known as men who took great pleasure in executing other people.
Yet, in his journal, Che wrote that, “The American (Marks) fundamentally didn’t fit into the troop.”
Che’s guerilla underling and aid, Enrique Acevedo, told Che’s biographer, Jon Lee Anderson that Marks was, “tyrannical and arbitrary…in camp.” Acevedo also told Anderson that Marks’ “bloodthirsty ruthlessness had disturbed many of his fellow rebel fighters and that it was particularly his readiness to gleefully volunteer for execution duty which he did with an enthusiasm which was unseemly.”
After the fall of Batista and the collapse of the Cuban government, Che would be tasked by Castro with overseeing the executions of close to 49,000 Cubans. Who were these unfortunate souls slated to be snuffed out by their new Communist masters? They were those who had dared to serve in the Cuban military from the ranks of Private all the way up to General. Anyone who had ever served in the police force. Anyone of note who had previously criticized Castro or his revolution. Any wealthy individuals who hadn’t already fled the island.
Che, like Herman Marks, was a psychopath, and a sexual degenerate. Although Comrade Che would have personally enjoyed executing all 49,000 Cuban “enemies of the people” himself, it was not feasible for him to do so. Accordingly, Che naturally chose his kindred spirit Herman Marks, to assist in this task. Marks, who had recently been promoted to Captain, was given command of the La Cabana fortress and tasked with overseeing the executions of tens of thousand of these former soldiers, policemen and critics of Castro.
Thus, standing at center stage in the courtyard of the La Cabana fortress stood “Psycho Eyes,” also known as “Frig Mouth,” the Waupun Penitentiary “punk.” His evil, crooked smile beaming live on Cuban Television and before the international press while bellowing out the commands to the firing squad: “Atencion, Preparen, Aputen, Fuego!” (Attention, Ready, Aim, Fire!). After the lifeless bodies of the condemned collapsed to the stone masonry floor below, Marks would walk toward the executed men with the wicked grin of man who was thoroughly enjoying himself. Then, into each blood oozing corpse he fired a bullet into the head, which he appeared to relish.
It’s believed that old “Frig mouth” presided over the executions of some 20,000 Cubans. Many of these executions were witnessed by the loved ones of the condemned on live television. Marks took great enjoyment in mocking those condemned men who called for a Priest to give them the Last Rites or who prayed to God before their execution. Many of the men were led to the execution courtyard with their hands untied. More than a few of those men used their last moments of life to courageously taunt their Communist tormentors. Many of these men would place their index finger between their eyes and courageously deride their executioners by shouting, “Aim right here.” In the end, it was the dignity of these condemned men which demonstrated their real courage. The type of courage which had always eluded men like Che or Marks.
For the brave men who would dare the firing squad to “shoot right here,” (between the eyes) Marks would personally shoot each of these dead men in the face with six to eight bullets in order to ensure that their families would be unable to recognize them. Marks briefly became a worldwide celebrity among Leftists. He enjoyed the numerous media interviews where he would always mention how grueling his schedule was and seldom failed to mention that he was “up until 2:00 AM performing executions.” In the western media, Marks became known as “the Butcher Havana.”
After all the “people’s enemies” were executed, Marks’ Warholian fifteen minutes of fame evaporated. Even Castro seemed ever so unnerved over how much Marks seemed to enjoy executing people. News stories had made their way into Cuba from the American press detailing Marks’ extensive criminal history and prison record. That portion of his past was conveniently left out of the biography he had provided to Castro. Moreover, there was no longer much use Herman Marks in the new Castro dictatorship. Marks could barely speak Spanish. He had no education and few skills to offer the new government apart from his willingness to murder others. To his profound disappointment, he was offered no position of import in the new Communist regime. However, as a “hero of the revolution,” he was afforded a very small and modest home to live in and a meager monthly stipend to subsist on. Marks angrily scoffed at the offer. He clearly had an inflated view of his own worth to Casto’s new government. In an enraged tizzy, “Frig Mouth” stormed out of Cuba and discreetly slipped back into the United States. He was arrested soon thereafter for illegally entering the country and there was a dispute over whether or not he was still a United states citizen which was settled in his favor by the courts. Marks quickly became a societal pariah within American society.
He was unable to find gainful employment given his criminal record and status as “the Butcher Havana.” He was arrested in New York in May of 1964 for making threatening phone calls. On Friday the 13th of August 1965 he fell from a tree and broke his right leg after using binoculars to peep at a young girl through a neighbor’s window. When the police arrived, his trousers were unzipped, and an “appendage” was protruding from the unzipped pant zipper crotch. An arrest warrant was issued for Herman Marks after his return to Milwaukee. The warrant alleged that he had engaged in “indecent sexual behavior with a six-year-old girl. Upon hearing of the arrest warrant, Marks told others that he was, “getting the hell out of dodge.”
He was last seen speeding toward the state line via what today is known as “Interstate 39. “ He was never seen again. Different theories have arisen concerning his disappearance.
Some say he went to Las Vegas, seeking “muscle work” and ended up in a hole in the desert courtesy of John “Handsome Johnny” Roselli who also had CIA contacts and had worked with the agency on Cuban related matters. For a while, the father of the six-year-old girl that Marks had molested was considered a prime suspect in his “disappearance.” Others have alleged that Marks was tortured and killed by Cuban exiles. What seems almost certainly to be the case is that a person or persons unknown did our society and the world at large a tremendous favor by dispatching “Frig Mouth” to Hell.
During WWII, the great Polish resistance leader, Zbigniew Stypułkowski made an astute observation of his nation’s two enemy occupiers Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, when he commented that there were no significant differences in the brutal way both operated. He saw both as equally evil, dictatorial systems. On September 1, 1939, Stypułkowski was a member of the Polish parliament when two of the evilest empires known known in the history of man Nazi Germany and the Communist Soviet Union, decided to divide his democratic nation up between themselves. They did so for no other reason than they could.
After the Soviet Communists and the Nazis invaded his country, Stypulkowski helped organize the anti-Nazi resistance in the western portion of Poland. The intellectual politician soon became a respected resistance leader, rising to the rank of Colonel. A large bounty was placed on Stypulkowski’s head by the Nazi occupiers who were bedazzled by his cunning as a prominent guerrilla leader. Yet, no Poles stepped forward to betray Stypulkowski. Both the Soviet Communists and the Nazis surpassed any measure of wickedness previously established in history. Both regimes practiced the mass extermination of millions of their political opponents yet, the Soviets Communists unarguably murdered far more than even Hitler’s regime. What astonished Stypulkowski was the way both regimes, though independent of each other, work identically. In the German occupied sector of Poland, the Nazi’s quickly massacred all elites and intellectuals while anyone deemed a political opponent was shipped off to a camp to be gassed or worked to death. Likewise, in the Soviet occupied sector of Poland, the Communists quickly massacred all elites and intellectuals while anyone deemed a political opponent was shipped off to a camp to be executed or worked to death. Both had secret police who worked with uncannily similar tactics.
The Soviet Communists were quick to murder anyone who even had the appearance of someone who might resist. Most notable, was the Katyn Massacre where the Soviet Communists murdered over 22,000 military and police officers as well as others deemed to be intellectuals- most of whom were Polish Jews. Yet it was the ruthless proficiency of these systematic murders in Katyn which was most shocking. The mass murder was carried out with the efficiency of an industrial slaughterhouse.
See the short video below:
In typical Communist fashion, at the end of WWII when these thousands of bodies were discovered, in shallow graves, each with bullet holes in the backs of their skulls, the Soviets blamed the massacre on their former allies, the Nazis. Yes, they did so directly on the orders from Comrade Stalin. The Nazis were defeated after all and had no historical voice in the matter. For almost 50 years, the Katyn Massacre was attributed to the Nazis. The Nazis by the way, were just as evil as the Soviet Communists and would have been all too happy to have to done the dirty work at Katyn themselves but alas, the Soviet NKDV beat them to the punch.
Each year during the cold war, on the declared anniversary of the Katyn Massacre, there was a Soviet and Polish sponsored memorial gathering to remember these “victims of the Nazis.” Although the Soviets had objected to the placement of physical monuments on the site and preferred to conduct the event in a low key fashion, some select residents of western countries and a limited number of “approved” western media sources were allowed to attend the memorial gathering. Interestingly enough, few average Poles were ever invited and the memorial seemed more like a media event. After all, average Polish citizens might have dared, given the opportunity, to raise some awkward questions such as, “The murdered Polish men were all taken into to custody by the Soviets in the Red Army sector- how were the Nazis able to get to them?”
Only Communist could pull an event like this off and keep a straight face but, wait…it gets better. Every year on the anniversary of the Katyn Massacre, limited numbers of naïve western liberals (mostly women) would make their way to Katyn, Poland in order to,” remember, mourn, and light candles for the “Nazi ‘victims.” Many of these liberal women were filmed with hot tears streaming down their checks as their lower lips quivered over the grizzly fate of these alleged victims of Nazi brutality. They certainly seemed like Norma Desmond, to be ready for their close-up.
Then suddenly, the Soviet people overthrew their Communist dictators in the USSR and those living under Communism in the Eastern Bloc Countries had just previously done likewise. The Berlin Wall came crashing down, and freedom spread beyond the Iron Curtin. Soon thereafter, the secret archives of the former Communists states were made public. Along the way it was discovered, in black and white, that the Nazis did not perpetrate the Katyn Massacre but rather it was as many had already suspected, the Communist Soviets who methodically killed these 22,000 Polish elites.
Now, try not to laugh. I dare you. After democracy was restored in Poland, the Katyn Massacre Anniversary to remember and morn, continued on. However, it took on the new tone of an anti-Communist memorial. Monuments were finally erected in the Katyn forrest to pay homage to these victims of Communism. However, after it was established that the Massacre was committed by the Communists, the crying western liberal women stopped showing up. Maybe it was because there were no longer any Communist officials for them to hug and cry in the arms of over the brutality of Nazism and US foreign policy. Yet it was historically, still a savage massacre- right? It would seem that liberals are only interested in mourning massacres that suit their political ends. Yet maybe there’s another reason. Maybe they caught wind of something.
Perhaps these western liberals heard about the little farm near the diminutive Polish village of Zdziary, not far from the location of the Katyn Massacre. Each year, during the anniversary remembrance, the small farm was cordoned off by a group of Polish and USSR Communists party officials including, Soviet KGB officers and Polish Security Service (PS) personnel. Once there and away from the prying eyes of western “liberal guilt tourists,” they could let their hair down. The liquor would flow, and these Communist officials would begin hours of mocking the western “useful idiots” in attendance- mostly liberal western women. The Communist officials would put on skits where in turn, many of the attendees would imitate the liberal useful idiots’ maudlin sorrow and tears to roars of laughter. Many of these men would entertain their comrades by recounting their sexual conquests of the sundry “loose” western women in attendance, many of whom would throw themselves at the first Communist official they encountered during the couple of days before the ceremony. The jollity and revelry would go on until the wee hours.
The annual fun abruptly ended with the collapse of Communism. Suddenly, the liberal western women lost interest in attending when they learned what was for them, the disappointing news that the massacre was actually committed by their ideological allies, the Communist.
The Historical Truth Project 