John F. Kennedy’s Assassination: How it Happened and Who was Responsible

A Documentation of an Anonymous Patron of the Truth. Ha!

I know of all the fictitious accounts of November 22, 1963. I know of them because I planted them. Mr. Kennedy was a good man…a great man. But he was in the way for a lot of government agencies, the mob, Soviet Union, Cuba, and many private citizens. I suppose he felt he was doing his job. It’s not for me to say whether or not he was, but I did my job; I removed him. Well not personally of course, I could never allow myself to go down for a job. Though I definitely would have loved to pull that trigger myself. Have you ever felt anything more exhilarating than shooting a gun in to a man’s flesh?

Man! To think my name could be the one every one knows. Ha! Lee Harvey Oswald. What kind of name is that? What a sucker! He was set up from the very beginning, and he didn’t even have the brains to know it. He was a good shot though. I’ll give him that. Hope he’s having a nice time in Hell. I had many interviews with army snipers, and some private shooters that X brought to me. Of all the names it ended up to be Lee Harvey Oswald.

It took many months of careful planning. After I had found the right sucker to take the job, I had to know exactly where he was going to be when the shooting would take place. I knew as did many that Kennedy would be out in the open riding in a limousine down Dealey Plaza. I decided that Mr. Oswald would place himself on the sixth floor of the Schoolbook Depository Building. Mr. Oswald seemed the best choice but of course I had to have a back up plan. However I don’t feel it necessary to disclose plan B’s name or the organization in which he was associated with to you; you can come to your own conclusions about that.

The organization, which I was associated with, will be referred to as X. I left X not to long ago. I’m currently in hiding. Ha! Those suckers will get what’s coming to them before any one reads the first rough draft of this narrative. No one tries to screw me over and get away with it, but I’ll save that exciting X-files adventure for my next novel. Though to many of you conspirator geeks sadly there will be no aliens involved, and no Special Agent Scully. She was kind of good looking. Had some psychological issues though always seeing her psychologist. But who the hell doesn’t in this line of business? I mean look at me; I enjoy blowing people’s heads off. If that’s not a little psycho then the world needs to be flooded again…or maybe Hell can be unleashed on the unsuspecting world of psychopaths. Now that would be fun. Ah! Science fiction…I just love it.

 Any way moving right along, good ol’ X put me in charge of the operation. It was my first. Fresh out of college, young, impressionable, dangerous to the community, a very good shot, and of course my most endearing quality, I love to inflict pain on others. Actually most of X wanted me to fail. I was only invited by the head of the organization who I will refer to as Q. Q liked me. Never did know why he took to me so well, it’s not like we had a lot in common or anything. He was a businessman…a politician. I am a hit man. Not that it matters now. His son killed him to take over. Since I had a lot of respect for Q I’m going to do him a favor and send his son along with the other head members down to see him. Again that’s for another time and place. Q had faith in me, and the rest hated my guts. Bunch of yellow bellied… So they gave me the daunting task of the Kennedy assassination.

Yeah. So many organizations that wanted Kennedy dead were complaining about it to X, because President Kennedy’s brother sent the FBI after mafia leaders and President Kennedy himself fallowed suit. President Kennedy gave the FBI more jurisdictions over organized crime cases. That made the mafia leaders a little angry. Soon after this President Kennedy found out about the CIA’s little secret. They were using mafia bosses to try to eliminate the Communist Cuban dictator Fidel Castro. They wouldn’t have done it though. Most of their mafia bosses X planted there. X had an agreement with Fidel Castro. There weren't many bad guys they didn’t have some kind of agreement with. Well when Kennedy ordered them to stop they didn’t; they ignored him and kept working with the bosses. So Kennedy sent enforcements to shut down the agency. Many of X’s leaders where involved with the CIA. Needless to say they weren’t terribly happy about the whole thing. That is when they decided that he had to go. I would tell you how the Soviet Union was involved, but I have an agreement with them, so just keep plan B in mind.

I planted Oswald in the right place so that he could get a nice easy clear shot at Kennedy. Plan B was in a less visible spot, but the shooter was better. He did manage to get a bullet in Kennedy. The overzealous … He got away with it any way. Ha! He was a clever man. Sad I had to kill him. If he hadn’t made that shot I think we would have been pretty good friends. Ha! Friends. I remember the look on his face when he realized what I was going to do to him. He fought back of course. Pretty good punch that kid. Real pity. I enjoyed it though. Ahhh! I set up a classic manhunt scenario. Much like in “The Most Dangerous Game.” A good story…good story. Have you read it? You should. The perfect animal to be hunted is the human being... well a mildly intelligent human being.

Oswald being in the limelight I didn’t get the pleasure of killing him myself. I believe it was Jack Ruby that X got to take care of the situation. The Warren Commission only found Oswald after cutting a deal with X. We had them report that Oswald was not a hired assassin, but just a disgruntled citizen. Ha! Retarded public you’ll believe any thing as long as the person telling you is on the television news or in the news paper.

Many more people other than Kennedy have died to keep our secrets. Kennedy got to close; he tried to disrupt our way of life so we disrupted his. Then we cleaned up all the lose ends. It was cruel; I won’t deny it. He had a wife and some kids, but they should consider themselves lucky…normally I kill the whole family. That way they don’t have to wait long to see each other. You know families miss each other. They like to be together. Oh, and Jack Ruby killing Oswald so that Mrs. Kennedy wouldn’t have to take the stand. What a load of … People will believe anything. You are all like animals…cows or sheep or pigs…no. Not pigs. You are the animals on the farm. We are the all powerful pigs of the farm. And the media are the sheep. They repeat exactly what we tell them.

Actually the media is to be commended. I should congratulate the private investigators of the media; they did a very good job picking at the truth. Most of their information is true…well it has truth in it. Most closed-minded people believe that only one of the many explanations is correct, when in fact there is truth in all of them. The intentional and unintentional leaks from government organizations were not entirely false. In other words not everything you know is a lie, yet not all of it is true. The best lie is concealed between two truths; remember that.

I wrote this a while back and I was thinking about writing a book... what do you think?

Mmmk… well if you are faint of heart you may not want to read this… just kidding, actually it is just a bunch of ramblings of things occupying my mind today and yesterday and the night before last…it was easier to put it here than in my journal… so by the way if you ever wondered what my journal reads like when I am getting something off my chest, this is a pretty good example… the rest of the time it just goes through what has happened that day. Over all it is pretty boring stuff.

It took a year of dating to hit even a mildly rough spot... some people would say that this is a very good thing. But is it really? If you never fight or have rough spots then you don't talk about them... Does this hurt our communication with each other? Or does it mean our communication with each other is impeccable already...we don't need fights and trivial trials to build that communication? What if you do need those things to build a healthy communicating relationship? Then I wonder if Joe and I are already doomed... I am not good at being confrontational and I do my best to be supportive. Sometimes I am so focused on being supportive that I don’t talk about how what ever he said makes me feel… I am so focused on making sure he feels good I neglect my own need to feel okay. Something tells me that this isn’t good communication, this is avoidance. And it is my fault. One more thing I need to fix…

Joe and I are fine, don't worry, nothing has happened. He just said something to me the other night that he thought would hurt me, and it did a little, but it needed saying. The next day I really wanted to ask him something about it, but I didn't because I was afraid that the issue was no longer an issue for him, and I didn't want to reopen it. It is too easy for me to shrug the majority of my feelings off as personal issues that I don't need to bother him for. After that I wonder if I really should have been talking about them all this time. And I wonder if I should ask him anyway. I wonder if our communication has been hurt by not having anything uncomfortable or unpleasant to talk about before.

Another thing... the whole no sex until marriage thing... So you save your virginity until you get married. You get married, now what? You feel more secure because he said he loved you in front of family and friends... You aren't going to have sex all the time and stop talking to each other now just because of the ring on your hands. What is a healthy sexual relationship... what makes a sexual relationship in marriage healthy; I can tell you it isn't the title, the ring, or the vows. How does sex really change a relationship... do you really stop talking...are the words lost not made up in the feelings, the looks, the touches, the kisses? Does the sheer closeness and nakedness not bring you closer emotionally as well as physically? Showing them how much you want to be a part of them is stronger than any words you could ever say. Words could be lies, but actions hide nothing. They are making that commitment to you; that is real, something you can hold on to. So does sex speak a completely different language or just a more potent and intense version of the same I love you, giving a realness and permanence to the words?

Don't get me wrong the words are very important, but so is the physical. They work together. And for some people words mean more than holding thier hand or kissing their forehead. But that wasn't the point of my ranting...personaly I like both, they are both very important to me.. hence I smother Joe in "I love you's" and he gets dozens of hugs every time I see him. I also like surprises...not the gift ones... just like the random phone call in the middle of the day just to say "I love you." I love it when he does that, and I love to leave him surprises; I konw it makes him feel special and brightens his day. The whole reason for my existance. Anyway that wasn't my point either... and now I have lost it.

I feel much better having gotten all that off my chest….and it is long enough that I don’t need to worry about Joe reading it.  The whole sex thing stemmed from a conversation Amber and I had… so no worries there. I am fine if you were wondering… just needed to… vent I guess you could say… I usually answer most of my questions just by putting them in front of me. Well I guess I am done for now… thanks for listening.

You never notice when a rose begins to wilt. It goes slowly day by day until you realize it is drooping the petals are not soft and firm any longer. The deep red now blackens and it smells of decay. The smell is so pungent you can't hold your nose to it. One day you look at it and you remember it in all it's glory. There was a time it would have hurt. You would have cried, but now you remember with indifference. Not knowing if you should feel guilty for this disloyalty to the beauty of your rose. The feeling or lack there of troubles you. You are confused again.

We walk in this world dead, empty, and emotionless stumbling all the way. Silent pleas escape our eyes. We want some one to notice. We are afraid for some one to notice. Scared of their judgment, but in desperate need of it. We open our mouths to cry out, but all we hear is defining silence. A suffocating void surrounds us, choking us, though we don't know it, we are unaware of its presence until it is to late. We walk dead now. Lifeless. Empty. Forever Alone. Hurting for no reason that is detectable to us, but hurting none the less.

Like zombies or vampires, or any demon. We pretend to be whole, complete, and full of life. WHile secretly trying to fill this void. Zombies create more zombies constantly looking for some one to share their pain; never finding them. Vampires feed off of others feelings desperately trying to complete themselves by taking from the living; their victims become empty shells mimicking their predator. Other demons are harder to describe. Most are pretenders. You wouldn't suspect them of being dead. Some of them are out to hurt you, but most of these demons carry the scare of a vampire; all they want is to be accepted, cared for, to be living again... to be whole. But still who wants a demon...pretending or otherwise? Ostracized from the living; I am nothing but an empty pretender with nothing to offer but hallow happiness.

I do not know how or by what means I have hidden these feelings from myself for so long. But I am slowly able to feel them and the discovery makes them harder and harder to accept and deal with. I feel the empty pain with each breath, with it comes fear and exhaustion. Fear of how I am dealing with this; thoughts enter my mind that have no place there and are not healthy. What I fear is that they make sense and almost seem right. I am afraid that the weak logic I have against these dangerous thoughts will not hold long enough for me to heal, bury these feelings again, and return "full heartedly" to my pretending.

The rose hangs black, defeated by time and heartache. The smell has faded to a faint potpourri, not pleasant, but no longer decaying. it smells enough of a rose that if you close your eyes you remember exactly how it looked, felt, how it was soft and kind, gentle and loving. But to open your eyes you are reminded of what a horrid thing your rose has become... and you weep until not a tear is left in you, and you fall asleep.

Well I am currently searching for a new job...but I am being picky. Joe and I are doing very well. We went with his friend Cory and saw a pianist concert. She was amazing. I loved it. Joe cut half his finger nail off on a paper cutter. He has a huge bandage with a mad face on it which he named Andrew.

I guess that is all... you should visit my site and leave me a message on my chatter box.... :(