Look, I can’t get in too deep right now on all the ignored or covered-up evidence, obfuscations and “red herrings” in the almost mandated government/media version of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. However, they will be a few necessary parts of the equation to touch on. What I really want to talk about is the shock to America’s brains fifty years ago on that horrible day and what’s been going down ever since.
America was completely traumatized over our young president getting murdered so suddenly. Kennedy was full of promise and his beautiful family had captivated the nation. Not only was JFK handsome and rugged, he had boatloads of charm, wit and intelligence. Plus, he seemed genuinely patriotic for a politician.
His assassination was a GD crying shame. He may well have been the last worth-a-crap president America had. If it was indeed just Oswald — as they continually tell us — or if others had a hand like I suspect, I pray each and everyone of the bastards roasts upon the fiery coals of hell for eternity while getting buggered by the freakiest-looking of demons.
I actually remember the day of the assassination, however hazily. I was in my first grade classroom, when my family lived in a clean, safe, White bedroom community of Washington, DC (my dad worked downtown).
Now I don’t remember all that much, just that I was in this big bright sunlit classroom that had one of those trapezoid angled loudspeakers, the kind made from shellacked yellow pine, up on the wall above the teacher’s head. Sometime after 2 pm that Friday afternoon, it suddenly sprang to life, announcing the President had been shot and we would all be going home a little early that day. I recall no usual outbursts of kiddie glee.