Holy Toledo! There is a series on Netflix about the events that I somehow survived three decades ago!
I was supposed to be one of the Octopus murder victims. I was shot at four times. Three times the bullets were so close to my head that I felt the shock wave. The fourth time, a sniper’s rifle bullet was stopped by a bullet proof windshield. My little Toyota pickup was rammed broadside twice at the driver’s door by large red cars. Both times, I walked away with minor bruises. My former wife was feeding me arsenic. When that didn’t work she gave me a cup of tea, laced with cadmium and synthetic curare. The doctors couldn’t figure out why I was alive. They had to put 110 stitches in my colon to close the holes, and install a nylon mesh to hold my crystalized liver in place, until it regenerated.
At least 124 TV and newspaper reporters were murdered, execution style, around the USA during the first eight months of 1991. I never heard a final count on the number of honest federal, state and local law enforcement officers murdered. Hundreds of innocent, law-abiding civilians in Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland and Washington, DC were also killed. The most brazen attempt on my life was by the Shenandoah County Commonwealth’s Attorney and four car loads of Virginia State Police on August 27, 1992. They were stopped by a very brave African-American U.S. Marshall, who stood between them and me. So many people were murdered . . . at least now the public will learn what happened.
by Richard L. Thornton, Architect and City Planner
About five weeks ago, my computer was hit by massive hacking efforts, which appeared to be government law enforcement type programs. They culminated with an attempt to drain all the money out of my checking account on the Friday before Memorial Day Weekend. Also, the readership on my professional website and on LinkedIn suddenly dropped about 90%. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Now we know.
I just learned about the series last night and so have only watched the 2024 pilot. The writers and producers assumed that all of the key characters, 35 years later, have been murdered, died in accidents or passed away from natural causes. No . . . (then) FBI Special Agent Susan Karlson (alias) and I are very much still alive.
This is not the first time Susan has been portrayed on television. If you recall the movie about the man-hunt and capture of FBI Chief of Counter-Intelligence (a Russian spy), Robert Hansson, an actress portrays her as the key female FBI agent in the movie.
The opening statement in the second program is absolutely true. It states that Reagan and George H. Bush Administrations rewarded major donors by granting them privately owned businesses and real estate that they desired. The legal owners were displaced by incredibly evil acts by government agents.
In my case, John Giovani, a major figure in the Houston Mafia and friend of the Bush family wanted my goat cheese creamery, since he owned a gourmet foods distributing company. US Army Rangers from Fort Detrick, MD repeatedly attacked my farm at night trying to force me to sell it to Giovani for about 5% of its appraised value.
I will have to see all of the shows broadcast so far, before making a judgment of how accurate the rest of the series is. In the meantime . . . my French soulmate, Vivi, reconnected with me during the Pandemic. In order to finally heal all our buried, intense memories from the Octopus Murders period, I wrote a short online book, based on the daily journal that I kept. The book begins at:
https://www.linkedin.com/feed/update/urn:li:ugcPost:6836683560997449728/
The real action begins at the 1990 Smithsonian Institute annual administrators Christmas Party:
The Americas Revealed 