by Tom Schreck
"I don't know-a lot of things happened to him…"
"Elvis gets introduced to amphetamines. The Army gave them out to guys who had guard duty at night. Elvis got introduced to drugs by the government," Karl raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, but back then didn't everybody in the Army get uppers?"
"Not everyone, Duff. And what, Mr. Addictions counselor, do amphetamines do to you?"
"Keep you awake, give you energy, give you confidence, and-"
"Stop right there. What happened just before Elvis got sent to Germany?"
"His mother died."
"And Elvis's mom was everything to him, right?"
"Yeah."
"So is it such a stretch to know in advance Elvis would really, really like a drug that would make him feel confident during a part of his life filled with existential insecurity?" Karl's eyebrows went up again.
I didn't say anything. I just thought.
"Then he comes back and he does movies where, through his music, he embraces different cultures. The Mexicans. The Native Americans, the Polynesians."
"C'mon Karl even I thought the movies were silly."
"Of course, you did. They wanted you to. Elvis knew they wanted him cleaned up and non-threatening, but he found ways to champion the little man's causes. But you had to be paying attention."
"You said something about 'they got him.'"
"Even in the 70's Elvis brought different cultures together with his music. He sang the music of the Irish, the Italians, and still did R amp; B and traditional Southern Gospel. To the end, he brought the masses together."
"Why would it be threatening?"
"C'mon Duff. If everyone stops hating and starts singing and dancing together, then how will the powers that be turn us on one another? If the poor and disenfranchised culture gets celebrated, then a boundary is broken down. The powers need boundaries."
"But Karl-how did they 'get' Elvis?"
"First of all, they got him hooked and knew they had something on him. They also knew he was under control, because with the drugs his expression got limited. And after he was used up and died, they covered his tracks by discrediting him."
"I don't follow."
"Duff, I'm sure you're tuned into the media and our culture. What do they say about Elvis? He got fat, drugged up, stupid, into weird sex-remember the Albert Goldman book? Today, kids think of Elvis the caricature, not the heroic culture-defining man from the poor integrated background."
"So you're saying they discredited Elvis because he brought people together?"
"He brought the wrong people together. How did the greatest entertainer of the last century become a caricature of himself?"
"Uh…"
"Because if the masses don't take Elvis seriously, then they don't watch and listen. They follow along. That's the way they like it." Karl raised his eyebrows as if to say 'you understand?' I think I was starting to.
Maybe Karl wasn't crazy. Maybe I hadn't been paying close enough attention to what had been going on around me. Maybe things weren't as they appeared. If they could make Elvis out to be a nut and make him something to mock, what couldn't they do?
"Duffy, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Are you crazy enough to want to do something about all this shit-I mean the shit Newstrom has in mind?" Karl looked at me and his face lost all expression. He had stopped scratching Al and stood still.
"We should call the FBI or the police or something."
"They'll laugh," Karl said.
"Karl, if a bunch of innocent people are about to get murdered I think we have to do something. The hard part is you only seem to know things in general terms. The fact that something is going to happen somewhere doesn't really put us in a position to do anything."
Karl looked at the ground and shook his head. He was quiet for a long time.
"I can get the specifics. Would that make a difference?" He didn't look at me.
"Well, yeah, I guess it would."
Karl lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye.
"Duffy, since those kids died, I ain't been right, I know that. I also know I went from being a hero to being a crazy person everyone laughs at. They did that to me, they fucked me, and they're fucking with a lot of people."
"Karl-"
"If we're going after them, I'm going to want to finish it and know I've finished it. I don't want them getting away with anything and knowing they're getting away with it."
"I think I understand," I said.
"You want to do this?"
"Yeah, I think I do."
"And you're sure you're ready to hear what I can tell you?"
"Yeah, Karl I am. What I really want to know is how they are able to pull this shit off with other people."
"Some of its easy-I mean setting a fire isn't hard. What gets more tricky is when they have to manipulate people."
"Huh?"
"This guy Rukhaber. No doubt he was CIA or Secret Service or something. He probably fucked up and they got to him like they got to me-except he took to the programming."
"Programming? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You said you saw my file right? How about all the drugs they had me on? And what happened to me after they started giving them to me?"
"You got worse."
"Exactly-I fought them. Maybe Rukhaber had a different reaction, maybe he gave in. Who knows, maybe he was nuts. The important point is they set it up for him to flourish, then they went in and blew him up."
This made my hair hurt. I couldn't tell if Karl was nuts or a genius, or whether I was the one who was getting nuttier.
"So you're talking about mind control?" I said.
"Yeah, but not like Star Trek stuff. The military is good at it and Newstrom was their very best. When they combine it with the right pharmacology they can be very, very good at it."
"How would they set up a Columbine type thing?"
"Easy. Find the right group of disenfranchised kids, get them to take drugs-nothing hard to do there-give them the right suggestions and access to guns and sit back."
"Is that what happened at Columbine?"
"It could have. You got a better explanation?"
"Holy shit, Karl. Is this really possible?" I shook my head.
"Now you know why I don't tell everyone the details."
"Maybe Karl, I just don't know. If it is happening, how come no one is doing anything to stop it?"
"Anyone who believes it is considered crazy," Karl said.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," I said. It became quiet between the two of us for a couple of moments.
"Duffy, you mind if I ask you something?"
"No, go ahead," I said.
"You think I'm crazy and you're worried you might be getting crazy if you follow what I'm saying aren't you?"
"Maybe a little."
"You still want to get involved?"
"Yeah."
"Why in hell do you want to do this with me?" I thought about it for a minute. I wasn't sure of the answer, but I had an idea.
Elvis sang If I Can Dream, a song about visualizing a better world where all types of people walk hand in hand. He reached the crescendo.
"A few reasons," I said.
"You want to share them with me?" Karl sat still and looked right at me.
I thought about it for a second before I said anything. I wasn't sure if I could get the words around what I felt, but I gave it a shot.
"I think it's something like this, Karl: One, I don't like people fucking with other people who can't defend themselves. Two, I don't like the fact somebody fucked with you." I hesitated.
"Is there something else, Duff?" Karl said.
"I don't like the fact three guys suckered me in the back of the head."
24
I may have gotten hit in the head too many times, but I had never spent a lot of time following my head anyways. Still, deciding to listen and believe Karl Greene told the truth was something else. I was
n't so confident about my own sanity, and now I teamed up with a guy who liked to wear a football helmet as his main sartorial statement.
Nuts or not, if we were going to foil world-changing terrorist events, I was going to make damn sure I did my homework. Despite how silly even thinking it sounded, I believed it. If you believe something hard enough it becomes true-at least to you.
It was time to talk to Kelley. He'd chew me out and tell me I was nuts, but he'd listen and tell me what he thought. We met during his lunch break at AJ's, which would mean me taking a long lunch at the clinic, but I figured I could call it a consultation with a community member. The Michelin Woman had her door closed, so got out without reliving her version of the Spanish Inquisition.
Only Jerry Number Two sat in AJ's at this early hour. He sat at the bar with his laptop, sipping a Cosmo.
"Hey Jerr, you look lonesome," I said.
"Nah, spending some quality online time with my D amp;D friends," Jerry said without taking his eyes off the screen.
"D and D?"
"Dungeons and Dragons. You know, role playing." I didn't really ever get what that was all about, but when your main hobby is getting punched in the face repeatedly youdon't spend a lot of time making fun of other people's pastimes. AJ stacked boxes. He stopped to slide me a Schlitz, without saying anything by way of greeting.
Kelley came in on cue and in uniform. He got a diet coke and ordered a burger.
"I don't got a ton of time, Duff," he said "How's your noggin'?"
"It's mostly all right."
"So what are we here about?"
"You're going to think I'm nuts."
"Too late. Let's hear it." He sipped his diet coke and ran his hand through his flat top.
"All right, you know Karl, my client from the clinic?"
"Yeah-he was in the other night."
"I told you how he's been making predictions about tragic events and terrorism."
"Yeah."
"It turns out its not just crazy paranoia stuff. He got a little fucked up in Iraq because he accidentally shot and killed a couple of little kids."
"That'll do it. What does that have to do with him being able to predict his or anybody else's future?"
"Well, his best buddy, a guy he enlisted with, finished out his tour and joined a private security force over there." I looked at Kelley to see if he listened and if he had any reaction. He listened, without reaction, so I kept on.
"When Karl got fucked up he tried to convince Karl to come join the private security firm and he told him there would always be work. Somehow Karl asked a bunch of questions and his buddy said he was guaranteed a lot of work for years to come whether there were any wars or not."
"Duffy, is there a point to this?" Kelley took a bite out of his burger and frowned. AJ's burgers often did that to people.
"According to Karl, he saw documentation about a plan for events inside the United States would keep people supporting the wars and the defense funding."
"A plan?"
"Yeah, a plan in which they would engineer and set up tragic terrorist-linked events."
"Who would?"
"This private security firm. They're called Blackgard."
"And you know this because the guy in the Redskins helmet said so."
"He wasn't always nuts; he knows what he's talking about," I said, just raising my voice a tad.
"Duff, this is Bigfoot stuff, it's Area 51, the Chupacabra. It's bullshit. Man, you really took a shot in the head."
"C'mon Kell, I'm not nuts-"
"Look Duff, you asked me, I told you. I think Karl's nuts and I think you're right behind him." He got up, wiped his mouth with the paper napkin, and left half a burger in front of him.
"Sorry, but I got to get back to work." He put his hat on and headed out.
I felt ridiculous. AJ gave me another beer. I started paying attention to ESPN when Jerry said something without looking up from his laptop.
"Northwoods," he said.
"What's that Jerr?"
"Northwoods, the name of a project the CIA proposed around the time of the Cuban missile crisis."
"And?"
"They proposed staging a fake invasion of the continental U.S. to make it look like the Cubans did it." Jerry finally looked away from the computer at me.
"Why would they do that?"
"So the American people would endorse the military bombing the shit out of Cuba."
"Why didn't they do it?"
"I don't know." Jerry looked away from me. "The point is they considered it."
"Jerry do you think it could happen-I mean, fun conspiracy stuff aside-is it really possible?"
Jerry took a hit off his Cosmo and smiled a little bit.
"In 70 B.C., a Roman named Crassus wanted to be in charge and take power from Spartacus. So he paid mercenaries to pose as Spartacus' troops and had them invade Rome. Spartacus showed up not knowing what the hell was going on, but before he could explain to anyone that they had been duped, Crassus had rallied the Roman troops and defeated the same mercenaries he, himself, hired." Jerry folded his hands in his lap and seemed very proud of his point.
"So you're saying he set up a situation where he could scare the citizens and then he could be a hero," I said.
"Exactly!"
"Don't take this the wrong way Jerr, but strategies from 70 B.C. really don't help my confidence level on this."
"Well, then, how about a nice Hitler story? Did you know Hitler had his soldiers dress in Polish uniforms and attack a radio station in Germany, no doubt to insure solid media coverage, and then used that attack as justification to invade Poland. From there you got the beginnings of World War II." Jerry raised his eyebrows and did the Groucho Marx thing.
I guess I just stared at Jerry, not saying anything.
"Ahh…but young Duffy is thinking, not here, not in good
'ol God Bless America." Jerry smiled.
"Well…"
"Far be it for me to ruin a young man's view of his homeland…"
"Go ahead," I said.
"A hundred years ago, William Randolph Hearst wanted the U.S. to invade Cuba. He sent a team of photographers there to take shots of the Cuba-Spain war. Except it wasn't really going on. Hearst had the photographers stage the pics, so it looked like war was raging and published them in his newspapers so people would get riled up."
" Hmm…"
"Then the U.S.S. Maine, in Cuba as a show of force, blew up. The ship's own captain said it had nothing to do with any war; it just blew up because of a fire on the ship. That part never made it to the papers and the U.S. got drawn into the conflict because Spain blew up our ship. The only problem — they didn't." Jerry smiled.
My head started to hurt.
"Need something more modern? How about FDR and Japan? The US suffered in a terrible depression and FDR wanted to go to war with Hitler, but the people railed against it. When Japan signed on with Germany and Italy, FDR had what he wanted. He set up oil embargoes to Japan and placed the Navy in Hawaii to keep Japan from going to Indonesia. Without any oil, Japan had to make a move."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. FDR knew to get the people worked up sufficiently the attack from Japan had to look barbaric. The reports said the Japanese were silent and made no radio transmissions while they headed toward Pearl Harbor, but it turns out it wasn't true. Our Admirals weren't informed about the Japanese advances and got left there as sitting ducks. The New York Times published the attack was known in advance in their December 8, 1941 edition-the very next day. People just chose to ignore it." Jerry grouchoed his brows again.
"Jerry-"
Jerry rolled on.
"In 'Nam we upped our involvement based on our ships getting torpedoed in the Gulf of Tonkin. The problem was our ships didn't get torpedoed. The sonar guy on the ship read his information wrong. LBJ knew that and still went on TV that night and dramatically presented what he knew was bullshit so his defense contractor buddies could get the war th
ey wanted." Again Jerry Grouchoed.
"Uh…" I looked at my watch and knew I'd be in trouble at work.
"Need something even more modern?" I couldn't stop him, so I just let him run with it.
"In the early nineties, the first Bush saw Iraq had started to glut the market with too much oil, which drops the price. Well,
'Ol Herbert Walker is an oil man and he didn't want to see that happen to him or his OPEC buddies. So we got involved in Kuwait."
"How did he do it?"
"He actually sent word to Hussein we would not intervene if he invaded Kuwait. He then hired a PR firm to set up scenario for the US people to swallow."
"Huh?"
"Try to keep up, Duff. Don't you remember the story and the vast coverage about the Iraqi troops storming the hospital and looting the incubators and killing all the little precious infants?
They even had a Kuwaiti nurse in tears on camera." Jerry looked at me.
"Yeah, I remember. That was hideous," I said.
"Hideously effective. It never happened. The nurse was an actress, but the whole act played on the American psyche and we were ready to bomb the shit out of them. First, we all but invite him to invade Kuwait, then we set up a gut-wrenching PR stage act and presto! You got Desert Storm, which, by the way, didn't remove Saddam from power, but it did get the Iraqi oil off the market and did get the prices back up where George Herbert Walker and his OPEC friends wanted them," Jerry said with the biggest Groucho of all.
My hair hurt. I became a bit overwhelmed and a lot confused.
"I guess, in short, Duff, I'm saying you and your buddy might not be nuts. Or, at least, this conspiracy thing might not be why you're both nuts."
"Jerry, this is heavy shit. Karl says this guy he went to school with showed him a memo outlining a bunch of this Northwoods shit involving a private firm. Is it even possible?"
"It seems kind of weird some guy at soldier-level would be hip to what's going on, but these companies get so cocky it's possible they've gotten flip with their internal security. Or, maybe he's close with someone who is in the know and who leaked him info. That would seem more likely."
"Could you find out anything that might shed some light on this shit?"
"You never can tell. What's the name of the private security firm?"
