People prefer to be lied to ably, than be told the truth, boldly. We prefer a colorful and clever story to a documentary filled with sharp and damning evidence; we prefer gossip to investigation. Human kind delights in metaphor when facts get in the way of our passions and pursuits. We embrace ambiguity when hard choice is available to us; we cling to images of pasts that never were while a beleaguered present cries out for attention.
We are, in short, a fictional species. A species that loves fiction, and makes fiction out of reality.
Is it any wonder, then, that our basest acts and desires are pushed away and under, into drama, poetry, and fiction; that we grasp at empty gossip about celebrity delinquency while the house-beams of our nation are being torn asunder, and chopped into fuel for a bonfire of our precious civil liberties?
Ask yourself which is more newsworthy a politicians sexual trysts, or his betrayal of the U.S. Constitution by sell-out or bloated bill? A golfers drug and sex compulsions, or his golf score? The suicide of a disgraced banker, or the wholesale theft of the American banking system? The secret amours and heartache of a First Lady, or the death of American industry, sold to slave labor in Asia, bought back at Best Buy to decorate our meaning-deprived lives?
We love stories far more than we love reality. But it goes deeper than that; we also despise the truth-tellers who push our tolerances too far, and we love to hang the gadfly for whom the search for truth is more important than the crowds approval. History shows us that unrepentant truth-tellers meet their fates by the side of the road, in a ditch or on a pike or cross. Whistle blowers disappear in car accidents in their backyards, poisonings with suspicious aftershave in their hotel rooms, airplanes that disappear in bad weather, and unexplained coronary events while in deep sleep.
What Is Conspiracy?
From the Latin for u201Cspirare, and con, or to breathe with, we get the smaller idea: we breath the words of possibility together. We plan, we stir our imaginations into designs. We then make the leap from thought to matter, by invoking movement, creating action.
Do people conspire on the large scale? We know they do. Weve seen it in business, finance and politics, in an endless, repeating loop. Weve witnessed one (or two (or three)) assisted elections at the presidential level since 2000. Lower offices regularly go to the best-financed and best-lawyered.
Outside of the U.S. is a world plagued by topsy-turvy elections, bordering on coups and governmental take-overs. How often do you find a pattern of Western interest in these places? Dig into this history and youll find the sticky fingers of intelligence agencies, U.S., British and Soviet, pulling strings and enabling puppet players. And before there was the 20th Century, there was all of history.
How many Caesars were killed by their retinues, stolen from office by their own Praetorian guards; how many consuls deposed by the will not of the people, but of the blade, (doing the bidding of the few and powerful)?
Page through the political diary of Europe, from Medieval to modernity, from Charlemagne to Henry V, from Elizabeth to Victoria, from Walpole to Disraeli to Churchill to Blair, and how many court intrigues, public revolts, rebellions, betrayals, coups both failed and achieved are the tally of what we call history?
Walk through yesterday, the smoke-stained iron and steel of the 20th Century, piled high with the bodies of hundreds of millions of Europeans, who fell victim to what we may consider the human penchant to wage war in search of utopias, in service of the lies and dreams of that same few and powerful.
Do human beings do bad things? The obvious answer should haunt us, but we deflect it quickly when we speak of those we need to trust. Necessary illusions, said the linguist Noam Chomsky. Maya, said the Upanishads illusion. And so we live in illusion in stories. We wrap the troubling truths of our species nature in soft fiction, we re-characterize, we change the names to protect the guilty to protect ourselves from the responsibility of facing our dark places. And we re-create reality (in books and film) and soften the ugliness just enough to make it forgivable, or distant.
And so, let it be acknowledged: It takes remarkable personal courage to come out against the mean, to write about unpopular ideas, to talk about probable conspiracies and so it cant be said that Jesse Ventura doesnt have guts. But let it be known that hes got a very good head on his shoulders too.
The former governor of Minnesota, Jesse Ventura, will be called this and more for his new book, American Conspiracies. The book takes apart a fictional vision of u201CAmerica the exception, the u201Cshining city on the hill,u201D (oh, would that it were so), and puts it in context of an actual history of our country.
From Lincoln to Kennedy, MLK to Malcolm X to RFK, from the CIA and Nixon to the CIA and cocaine, from the Federal Reserve and a betrayed Constitution, to Goldman Sachs and A.I.G. and a betraying Congress, the book moves through a long political century in our America, following the money and fingering the institutions whose power is beyond a citizens protest or vote to overturn; beyond media to report, beyond pundits to cite or assess or reason.
Why do lone nut assassins always have three names? So well remember them, says Ventura. But did you know that in addition to John Wilkes Booth, eight individuals (including one woman) were tried and convicted in the plot against the 16th president? It seems weve been forgetting the conspirators for 150 years.
From Lincoln, Ventura moves to an attempted industrialists coup against President Franklin Roosevelt in 1933, and introduces the reader to General Smedley Butler, whose War Is a Racket is a firebrands manifesto, sure to be enjoyed by all who read it for its snarling savaging of corruption.
From 1933 on to 1962, a successful coup: President John Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, when his motorcade slowed on its route altered so that the car would roll slowly through an area beneath taller buildings and a grassy hill (an area that would allow a triangulation of fire). Kennedy was killed, according to the official explanation, by one lone-nut assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, a former marine who had defected to Russia, but was allowed re-entry into the US with his new Russian wife without complaint or constraint by U.S. authorities. He was a man with CIA and FBI contacts, involved in contradictory brands of pro and anti-communist propaganda, who had a bizarre habit of turning up in several countries at the same time (suggesting that his name was used by more than one agent).
Oswald denied committing the act of firing upon the president; he was lucid and clear as he identified himself as a patsy. Oswald was himself assassinated two days after being arrested, despite being in police custody. While handcuffed and being paraded through a large group of Dallas police officers in the stations underground garage, he was shot at close range by a mafia bag-man, Jack Ruby, who somehow managed to get into the building, unchecked, with a handgun, at just the right time. Ruby, far from a rational individual, gave conflicting testimony as to his motives, but would later say that he was part of a larger plot, though he did not reveal details to the press. He would die of an embolism secondary to an invasive cancer a little over three years later, at the same hospital where both Kennedy and Oswald were pronounced dead. Years later, Rubys brother would tell an interviewer that Jack hadnt intended to kill Oswald, but that he just wanted to hurt him by shooting him in the stomach. Sound plausible?
Oswald is identified by the U.S. Government and official sources as the assassin of JFK, though he never had a trial, and a majority of files on Oswald remain hidden from public viewing by our government intelligence agencies.
If it was not Oswald, then who could have killed John F. Kennedy, and why? Ventura refers to the well-documented evidence: Kennedy was retooling Vietnam policy, with an emphasis to ending that particular CIA adventure; in fact, he said publicly that he wanted to splinter the CIA into a thousand pieces and scatter it into the winds. He also stepped hard on the Federal Reserve, minting money based on actual silver (instead of on a promise of future-repayment), robbing the Fed of its primacy as perpetual lender to the American people.