TERRORISM EXPLAINED - A TRANSSEXUAL, TURKEY & 9 11 TRAINERS

Louai Sakka, who was reportedly hired by the CIA in 2000. He helped train the 9 11 'hijackers.'



In Turkey, in September 2010, Hanefi Avcı, a former police chief, was arrested due to his links to a 2009 act of terrorism in Istanbul. (Avcı wiretap records raise questions about shadowy links )



Found in Avci's home were audio clips of phone conversations featuring former Turkish intelligence asset Tuncay Güney, mafia boss Sedat Peker, drug lord Drej Ali, famous transsexual Seyhan Soylu (also known as Sisi) and retired General Veli Küçük.



All these people are believed to have close links to Ergenekon, the terror organisation which has been linked to the CIA, NATO and Mossad. (KILLING KIDS ON A FIELD TRIP; ERGENEKON AND 9 11)

Note that the bad guys appear to have links to drugs, the mafia, the media and NATO generals.

Transsexual Sisi, allegedly involved in a plot to undermine top people. In 1996 Müslüm Gündüz, leader of a Moslem sect, was arrested by police in an İstanbul house where he was found in bed with a 22-year-old female student, Fadime Şahin. Ümit Oğuztan, an author of pornographic books and former editor-in-chief of the Strategy monthly, famous transsexual Seyhan Soylu (known as Sisi) and Police Chief Ümit Bavbek secretly met at the office of the Strategy magazine to write the “script” and talk about its details. Şahin, working as a call girl at an entertainment facility, was hired for a large sum of money. Sisi and Oğuztan coached Şahin in her new role, according to the witness, and introduced her into Muslum Gunduz's sect. (Witness: Ergenekon involved in Feb. 28)



Things are hotting up in Turkey.



Reportedly the CIA, NATO and Mossad want to break Turkey up.



On 31 October 2010, Istanbul was rocked by a bomb



On 27 October 2010, Police in Turkey arrested 12 people 'suspected of links to al-Qaeda'. (Turkey seizes al-Qaeda suspects)



On 26 October 2010 we learnt that Turkey's intelligence establishment has severed working ties with Israel's Mossad. (Turkey's intel severs ties with Mossad)



Turkey has also "conditioned its consent to stationing a NATO missile-defense system in its territory on a guarantee no information collected by the system be transferred to Israel."



Gaza Convoy attacked on 31 May 2010



On 31 May 2010, there was a rocket attack on a naval base, in İskenderun, in Turkey; seven people were killed.



On the same day, 31 May 2010, Israeli soldiers killed a number of Turks on the Gaza aid convoy.



There is a renewed suspicion of Israel's role in the İskenderun attack

Reportedly, the CIA, Mossad and elements of the Turkish military want to topple Turkey's Prime Minister Erdogan, because he is not sufficiently pro-Israel and pro-USA. Erdogan is a moderate, but he has criticised Israel.

Mossad has been active in Turkey.



According to a report in The Jerusalem Post, intelligence cooperation between the Mossad and the Turkish security service, MIT, "was enshrined in a 12-clause agreement that was signed during a 1993 visit to Israel by then-Turkish foreign minister Hikmat Chetin".



Soon after, according to the London-based newsletter Foreign Report, a large Mossad operation was established in Turkey, with Mossad agents based in both Istanbul and Ankara. (http://www.hr-action.org/archive1/990225tjp1.html)



On 15 November 2003, in Istanbul, there were bomb attacks attacks on the HSBC bank in the and on the British Consulate. (http://globalresearch.ca/articles/ANA311A.html)



The British Consul General Roger Short, was killed by the bomb as he was entering the consulate building. Press reports confirmed that he had cancelled an appointment at the last minute and "if he had gone to his appointment, he would have been alive"



"A Turkish daily close to the ruling justice and development party quoted Turkish intelligence sources as saying that the Mossad had established the organization that launched the two attacks on 15th November, 2003." (Turkey, terror bombs, the CIA and Mossad)

Website for this image



The CIA and NATO have been active in Turkey.



The CIA-NATO has had a 'stay behind' secret army in Turkey, of the sort associated with Operation Gladio in Italy.



This secret army in Turkey has used members of the fascist National Action Party and its youth wing, the Gray Wolves.

This secret army has gone in for "the type of right-wing terror program and destabilization effort" that was seen in Italy. (http://www.spitfirelist.com/f059.html)



On 19 July 2010, there was an attack "by the Kurdish PKK" in Hantepe in Turkey; a number of soldiers were killed.



It has been alleged that top people in the military did nothing to prevent the attack despite earlier being notified about the approaching terrorists by Heron unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).



Some of the top people in the Turkish military reportedly do the work of the CIA and its friends.(Slain soldiers' families frustrated, angry over military statement)

Louai Sakka, a Syrian, was interrogated by the authorities in Turkey.



By his own account, Sakka "is a senior Al-Qaeda operative who... helped train the 9/11 bombers.

"He has been jailed in connection with the bombing of the British consulate in Istanbul." - London Times



Louai al Sakka is also known as Sakra and Saqa



Sakka worked for the CIA?



Ercan Gun, on 15 August 2005 at zaman.com (Alleged Trainer Of 9/11 Hijackers a CIA Informant) reported that Sakka was caught by the Turkish authorities and then interrogated.



As a result, according to Ercan Gun, Turkish intelligence specialists now believe:



1. Al-Qaeda is the name of a secret service operation.



2. Al Qaeda is linked to the CIA-NATO's 'strategy of tension'. (Operation Gladio ; Turkey, terror bombs, the CIA and Mossad)



3. Sakka, the fifth most senior man in al-Qaeda, was offered employment by the CIA.



The CIA gave him a large sum of money.



The CIA claimed it eventually lost contact with him.



The Turkish security service MIT captured Sakka in Turkey.

Turkey's military, whose wiretapping equipment is reportedly used by Israel to spy on Turks. Website for this image



In 1974 there were rumours of Israeli aid to the Turkish military in its invasion of Cyprus. (The Ostrovsky Files.)



Reportedly, the Turkish military has been involved in 9 11 type false flag activities.



A 2003 Turkish military plot, codenamed "Sledgehammer", was to involve bombing two Istanbul mosques and forcing Greek jets to down a Turkish plane over the Aegean Sea.



The idea was to cause chaos and topple the Turkish government, which was not sufficiently friendly towards the USA and Israel. (Turkey coup plot)

Will Israel keep or lose its influence in Turkey?



The Turkish government (the moderate Moslem AKP party) has criticised Israel and has opposed an attack on Iran.



The Turkish military, said to contain crypto-Jews ('Moslems' of jewish origin), has had close ties to Israel.



'Israel uses wiretapping equipment it sold to Turkey on Turkish citizens'



According to Turkey's pro-government newspaper Taraf, the Turkish army's deputy chief of staff, Aslan Guner, bought wiretapping equipment in Israel in 2007.



Reportedly, Israel uses this equipment to listen in to the cell phone conversations of Turkish citizens.



Israel supplies the Turkish military with aerial drones and electronics.



The Turkish (AKP) government has accused Israel of being behind PKK (Kurdish) terrorist attacks. (aangirfan: ISRAEL LINKED TO TERRORIST ATTACKS IN TURKEY)

In 1980 there was a military coup in Turkey.



650,000 people were taken into custody.



Almost everyone was severely tortured.



According to official numbers 171 people died from torture.



A total of 49 people were executed. (coup plotters could and should be sent to jail! by ORHAN KEMAL CENGİZ)



The bad guys are still powerful.



A Turkish court has annulled the arrest warrants in the 'coup plot'



~~

1960 Turkish coup d'état

1971 Turkish coup d'état

1980 Turkish coup d'état

1997 military memorandum (Turkey)



KILLING KIDS ON A FIELD TRIP; ERGENEKON AND 9 11



aangirfan: Istanbul Bombs



~~

YEMEN TERROR EXPLAINED?

Ibrahim al-Asiri 'of the CIA'.

The CIA and the Pentagon want to do to Yemen what they are doing to Pakistan, and what they have already done to Iraq and Afghanistan.

After Yemen will eventually come Saudi Arabia.

(DID THE CIA USE NASSER AGAINST SAUDI ARABIA'S KING SAUD? / Saudi Arabia - You are next?)

"In February of 1975 the London Sunday Times revealed information from a leaked and classified US Department of Defense plan.

"The plan, drawn up by the Pentagon, was code named 'Dhahran Option Four' and provided for an invasion of the world's largest oil reserves, namely Saudi Arabia." - (Who Really Wants to Invade Saudi Arabia, and Why?) - Who can Saudi Arabia trust?

A plan to split Saudi Arabia gives the Saudis the holy sites and us the oil - New Statesman - The secret partition

Ibrahim Hassan al-Asiri (Aseery) is alleged to be the bomb maker in:

(1) the failed Yemen parcel bomb plot of October 2010

(2) the failed attempt to kill Saudi counter-terrorism chief Prince Mohammed bin Nayef in August 2009

(3) the failed Christmas bombing by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the Underpants Bomber.

(U.S. eyeing Saudi-born bombmaker in parcel bomb plot / Yemen parcel bombmaker believed to be al Qaeda terrorist Ibrahim ...)

UK journalist Con Coughlin, who is believed to be an asset of MI6 (Con Coughlin and MI6-Mossad propaganda), writes:

"Not since the 1988 Lockerbie bombing of Pan Am flight 103 (aangirfan: LOCKERBIE IS ABOUT HEROIN), which killed 270 people, has a terror group sought to smuggle primed explosive devices in the cargo holds of commercial aircraft...

"In February 2006 ... 23 suspected al-Qaeda members managed to escape from a prison in Sana'a, including the alleged mastermind of USS Cole attack.

"Nasser Abdul Karim al-Wuhayshi, a former personal assistant to bin Laden in Afghanistan, was another escaper ."

The boss of the Yemen al Qaeda militants is said to be AL-AWLAKI OF THE CIA?

~

Cosmetician Adrien / MON 11-1-10 / WW II admiral Chester / Nixon's Florida home / War chief Black Horse's tribe

Constructor: Holden Baker

Relative difficulty: Medium

THEME: various KAINEs — five theme answers end with "KAINE" sound


Word of the Day: PHLOX (24D: Showy flowers) —

Phlox (pronounced /ˈflɒks/ "flocks": Greek φλόξ "flame"; plural "phlox" or "phloxes", Greek φλόγες phlóges) is a genus of 67 species of perennial and annual plants found mostly in North America (one in Siberia) in diverse habitats from alpine tundra to open woodland and prairie. Some flower in spring, others in summer and autumn. (wikipedia)

• • •

Happy November (my birthday month, my favorite month). I think this one might skew slightly harder than the average Monday, if only for phreaky PHLOX and a host of proper nouns, at least one of which was likely to cause any given solver to seek help in the crosses. Was going to say I've never heard of PHLOX, but it was in a (Wednesday) puzzle two years ago, so I must have heard of it. Just didn't stick. This puzzle makes me miss Michael CAINE. COCAINE just seems like a cheap trick (and not the good kind, the kind that sang "Dream Police" — the other kind). So does KEY BISCAYNE, which I needed many crosses to get, not knowing as much Nixon trivia as perhaps I'm supposed to. One major omission, KAINE-wise: Virginia governor Tim KAINE. I realized that eight letters, there's really nowhere to put him, but if you're going to go with ALL the KAINEs, then get 'em all.

Theme answers:

• 17A: Aid for a person with a limp (WALKING CANE)
  
• 11D: Nixon's Florida home (KEY BISCAYNE)
  
• 36A: Drug from Colombia (COCAINE)
  
• 25D: Creating a ruckus (RAISING CAIN)
  
• 53A: 1941 Orson Welles classic ("CITIZEN KANE")
  

I have a lot of respect for a puzzle that gets this close but DOESN'T go for the pangram. Why force a "J" into this grid? Who benefits? (no one). Overall, I think the grid is pretty good. I mean, A CAT, A PIG, A LIE, a bit much, but otherwise, mostly good. Tripped at PHLOX, then COMANCHE (Black Horse?) (36D: War chief Black Horse's tribe), then NIMITZ (Chester?) (42A: W.W. II admiral Chester), then KEY BISCAYNE, but crosses took care of any problems I had pretty quickly, as is typical for a Monday.

Bullets:

• 31A: Cosmetician Adrien (ARPEL) — I know ... him? ... nope, her ... only from crosswords. Well, maybe I've heard the name, somewhere... strangely, she does not have a wikipedia page, at all.
  
• 40A: Long-armed ape, for short (ORANG) — another word I know just from xwords. Oh, and maybe from Poe.

• 51D: Latin jazz great Puente (TITO) — Here's a little something. Enjoy.

Signed, Rex Parker, King of CrossWorld

[Follow Rex Parker on Twitter]

THE SPOOKY TEA PARTY

"The aim of the Alice in Wonderland or confusion technique is to confound the expectations and conditioned reactions of the interrogatee." - CIA torture guide dated July 1963. (Cached ) "CIA programming themes include ... Alice in Wonderland." (Cached)



The Tea Party movement seems to be run by the CIA?



In the USA, the Tea Party movement got its name back in February 2009.



(Taking America back - Edward Luce, in the FT, 30 October 2010)



The Tea Party people are angry about the $700bn Wall Street bailout, about the 'socialist' idea of helping the 'undeserving' poor and about threats to the divinely inspired US Constitution, God's gift to the world.



According to Ronald Dworkin, 'a leading constitutional scholar' at New York University, "the Constitution was a product of the Enlightenment, which took society away from religion, not towards it."



Dworkin points out that George Washington, Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, owned slaves.



George Washington was a freemason.



According to some in the Tea Party, the USA was a wonderful place until about 1900.



The Tea Party people do not like Woodrow Wilson.



Wilson created the US Federal Reserve and passed an amendment to allow the central government in Washington to collect income taxes.



So, the Tea Party is good in parts.



Americans murder Philippinos



But, it does not seem to know the truth about what happened before 1900:



1. The slaughter by White Americans of American Indians.



By 1891, "through ruthless genocide carried out by the United States Government, the native population of the U.S. had been reduced to 2.5% of its original numbers and 98% of Indian land had already been stolen, almost all in violation of legally binding treaties." (MAKING THE WORLD SAFE FOR HYPOCRISY: The American History.)



2. The lynching by White Americans of innocent Black Americans.



3. The murder of up to one million Philippinos by US troops.



And the Tea Party keeps quiet about events after 1900:



Operation Northwoods,



Operation Gladio,



Operation Mockingbird,



Operation Cyclone,



Operation Paperclip,



Operation Chaos,



and 9 11.



The Koch family are the biggest financial backers of the Tea Party.



Fred Koch and his sons "are on lists of Jewish billionaires, and Fred "made his fortune building refineries... for Josef Stalin". (savethemales.ca - The Zionist Billionaires.)



The Tea Party has its own sex scandals:

A Tea Party U.S. Senate candidate stands accused of sex with a kid he met at church.

There is an anonymous article, entitled “I Had a One-Night Stand With Christine O’Donnell:”

And in South Carolina there is a Tea Party sex scandal -

And what about the war?

"Tea Party darling Sarah Palin has issued a major foreign policy statement on her Facebook page taking a generally hawkish neocon line.

"She wants, for example, to eliminate the withdrawal timetable for US troops in Afghanistan and presses for support of that war, along with other aggressive measures." (Cached)

~~

KIRCHNER KILLED? CIA SAID ARGENTINA COULD BE DESTABILISED.

Nestor Kirchner

Nestor Kirchner, President of Argentina from 2003 - 2007, is a hero.

He stood up to the USA. (South American Hero).

In October 2010, he died rather suddenly.

In February 2009, the CIA's Leon Panetta "said Argentina - and Ecuador and Venezuela - could be destabilised." (BBC - CIA comment / ecuador coup attempt: cia fingerprints, corruption)

Did the CIA assassinate Nestor Kirchner?



Nestor Kirchner was a popular president.

He defied the USA and the IMF, thus allowing Argentina to flourish.

He defied fascist generals and judges.

He sided with Hugo Chavez of Venezuela.

In May 2010, he became secretary-general of Unasur (Wikipedia) a new 'union' of 12 South American nations, which includes Venezuela.

He was a likely candidate for re-election as president of Argentina.

~~

New Zealand's former prime minister David Lange died in mysterious circumstances. (David Lange says US threatened to kill him.)

Victims of Operation Condor, carried out by the CIA generals

According to journalist Bob Woodward, "the (Buenos Aires Argentine) CIA station had extremely close relations with the Argentine generals." (Asad Ismi: Cry for Argentina)

Under the rule of the American-trained generals, from 1976-1983:

"Five hundred babies were stolen from their parents by the military junta...

"Only 66 of these children have been found.

"The armed forces were responsible for the genocide of over 30,000 people during the reign of terror they called the Dirty War.

"Many were tortured to death in 340 secret camps, shot and buried in mass graves, or thrown alive from airplanes into the Atlantic Ocean." (Asad Ismi: Cry for Argentina)

Notorious Argentinian Army Generals Roberto Viola and Leopoldo Galtieri were graduates of the US army School Of the Americas.

Argentina's Army Intelligence Battalion 601 was at the centre of the generals' fascist repression.

It "engaged in drug and arms trafficking, extortion, and money laundering.

"One of the Battalion's commanders, General Carlos Suarez Mason, head of the First Army Corps, ran an extortion/kidnapping ring that abducted businessmen and bankers.

"Suarez Mason was also a partner with major cocaine traffickers in the Bolivian army who overthrew their government in 1980 with the Argentine military's help.

"The Argentines received a portion of the drug profits from the Bolivian generals.

"The money was used for military operations in Central America.

"For this purpose, Battalion 601 set up a special intelligence unit, the Extraterritorial Task Force (GTE) in 1978 in Florida.

"Authorized by the CIA, the GTE helped train the Nicaraguan Contras for the U.S. and carried out drug and arms trafficking as well as money laundering." (Asad Ismi: Cry for Argentina)

Taming My Email Inbox

A friend of mine recently asked me to send him the system I use to keep my inbox empty and manage the huge number of emails I get every day. I get asked to share this every once in a while, so I thought I'd just post it here for everyone.

First off, I can't take credit for the foundation of this system – I adapted it from a fantastic book called Getting Things Done. Over the years I found myself streamlining the suggestions in that book, and the end result below is what I use every day.

Second caveat: I also use a task management application called Things to manage all of my work todos by project. The tricky bit I always seem to run into is, a lot of my todos come through email, but not all of them. I either needed to get my other todos into the email system, or at least some of the email todos out into Things. I ended up opting for the latter.



So here's the system. This may sound complicated at first, but once you get the hang of it, it's easy to use and can plow through a pile of email in not time at all.

Folders, Folders, Folders

First, I create some additional email folders:

Inbox
Now
Watch
Waiting
Archive

• Project 1
• Project2
• ...
• ProjectN

I also set up rules for automatically filing various AddThis related messages that I track separately, like translation submissions and product feedback. Check your favorite email application for more information.

Taming the Inbox

When it's time to sort through the messages in my inbox, here's how I use each folder:

• If a message can be immediately acted on, do so now; my rule of thumb is 10 secs to a minute tops.
• If it needs to be done today or very soon, move to Now. If it's something to be done much later on, I suggest moving it out of email and into your favorite todo application (mine is Things.) 
• If it's event-related, or something occurring for which there's no action but helpful to have the information handy, move to Watch (party, company meeting, offsite, holiday event, etc.)
• If the email is waiting on a response or an action from someone else, move to Waiting; I cc myself on messages so if I'm waiting for a response, I have a copy to put in this folder.
• If the message is project related and there is no action to be taken or pending, I Archive it into the appropriate Project folder.
• Otherwise, I delete it.

How often you sort through messages is up to you. You can do so frequently and keep your inbox empty most of the time, or set aside certain times of the day to plow through a longer list, avoiding the more frequent distractions.

Housekeeping

Here's the important part that keeps the system working:

• Each day go through Now for things that need to get done that day. Archive or delete items that are completed or no longer need to be addressed. Waiting on a followup? Move to Waiting.
• At least once a week go through Waiting. Done? Delete. Still waiting? Leave it. Should have heard by now? Send a followup email. Schedule time to do this, it doesn't take long.
• Every couple of weeks, go through Watch and Later, and either delete things or promote them to Now or Waiting.

There you go. Even if you get hundreds of emails a day, this or a system like it can help keep things manageable. I also suggest unsubscribing to emails aggressively, but that's a different post.

I hope this helps you as much as it has helped me. By the way, I'd highly recommend the Getting Things Done book above for other great ideas for managing the huge amount of information that swirls around us every day. Cheers!

News of the day for Sunday, October 31, 2010

In this Saturday, Sept. 9, 2006 file picture, U.S. soldiers adjust an American flag over the coffin carrying the body of Staff Sgt. Angel D. Mercado Velazquez, minutes after arriving from Iraq, inside a hangar at Muniz Air National Guard Base, in Carolina, Puerto Rico. The 24-year-old Velazquez had been a squad leader and paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne Division serving in Yusifiyah, Iraq, where he and two other members of his unit died last week from wounds sustained from mortar fire. Puerto Rico has been under U.S. jurisdiction since 1898, and its people citizens 1917. The island is home to 150,000 military veterans, and three-quarters of its National Guard troops have been deployed overseas since the Sept. 11 attacks. Yet Puerto Ricans can't vote for president, and their representative in Congress can't vote either. (AP Photo/Brennan Linsley) I have a personal connection to Puerto Rico, otherwise no particular occasion for this. -- C


Reported Security Incidents

Baghdad

Six police killed, 4 injured in bomb attack on a police garage.

A separate attack on a police patrol in southern Baghdad injures 3 police and 1 civilian.

And, another explosion in southern Baghdad injures 5 civilians.

Sahwa commander Adnan Atallah of al-Masrah village is killed by a bomb placed in his car. Three other people are injured.

Other News of the Day

King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia offers to facilitate talks to form a new Iraqi government following the Hajj. He states:

Dear proud Iraq,

For all of what I have said, I invite His Excellency President Jalal Talabani of the brotherly Republic of Iraq, all parties that participated in the elections, and political actors, to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to meet, after the holy Hajj period, in Riyadh under the umbrella of the Arab League, in order to seek a solution for every problem facing the formation of the government which has long remained unsolved, and in order to consult and decide which noble way you take and which honorable direction you choose. He who holds the reins to the resolution ought to possess the wisdom and its dictates. Destruction has so many smooth roads, but construction, after the blessing of Almighty, calls for a strong will.

However, Shiite bloc and Kurdish politicians appear to reject the offer, even as neighboring countries welcome it, including The UAE, Kuwait, and Lebanese PM Saad Hariri, (although I suspect Lebanon's Shiites may not agree. It seems clear that the Shiite and Kurdish coalitions are intending to form a government and expect that Saudi and Arab League participation would favor Iraqiya.) The AFP report seems to make this clear:

In Baghdad, an MP close to Prime Minister Nuri Al Maliki, who is seeking to keep his job, scorned the invitation. “This Saudi initiative is not positive, and that country does not have a role to play because it has not been neutral in recent years; it has always had a negative attitude toward (Maliki) and (his) State of Law” bloc, Sami al-Askari said.

Mahmoud Othman, an independent Kurdish MP, said Iraqis should sort out their own problems.

French airline Aigle Azur makes the first direct flight from western Europe to Baghdad since before the Gulf War. However, it's a symbolic gesture. Regularly scheduled flights have yet to begin. It's not that big of a deal anyway. You can fly to Baghdad, you just have to change planes in Turkey or Abu Dhabi.

The Arab League called on Friday for those behind the "crimes against humanity" contained in leaked Iraq war documents published by the whistleblowing website WikiLeaks to be brought to justice. This probably doesn't make Maliki feel any better about Arab League participation in formation of the government, if you know what I mean.

Afghanistan Update

Hamid Karzai denounces the joint U.S.-Russian raid on heroin labs, calling it a violation of Iraqi sovereignty. "Any repetition of such acts will prompt necessary reaction by our country," the presidential palace warned. Hmm. Would it be irresponsible to speculate on exactly why the president is so protective of heroin labs? Quoth Laura King of the LA Times, from the above link: "In the past, U.S. officials have suggested that the lucrative drug trade in Nangarhar, part of a complex web of organized crime, bears hallmarks of complicity by some local government figures."

Two German soldiers injured by roadside bombs in Kunduz, and 2 U.S. soldiers injured in a gun battle in Baghlan.

Office of the Governor of Helmand Province says 17 Taliban and 2 Afghan soldiers killed in fighting on Saturday. Taliban spokesman denies any Taliban deaths.

Quote of the Day

They behead – we do it with smart bombs. There is, of course, an ugly truth to this recently minted axiom: the horror of state terrorism is that the overwhelming machinery of death in the hands of all-powerful governments far outweighs individual atrocities by madmen, small groups and non-state entities. While, with their beheadings and murders of innocents, the heathen thugs and killers may indeed be barbarians, it is almost impossible to accomplish with their amateur methods the slaughter of half a million children, as did the Anglo-American/UN sanctions in Iraq.

Daniel Patrick Welch

The Sunday Salon and a little Ghost Story by Mark Twain for Halloween

It's Sunday! And Halloween! The ancient Celts thought that Halloween was the day when the dead can return to roam the earth, and they would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off the evils of the night... Are you lighting your bonfires tonight?! Maybe just a pumpkin or two? What better time of year for a ghost story... There have been many ghost stories written by famous authors including The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving and The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. Even Edith Wharton has written a collection of ghost stories, including Kerfol which is said to be her best, where a wealthy bachelor, urged by friends to purchase a home in Brittany, finds the estate of Kerfol devoid of human presence and populated instead by a pack of eerily silent dogs. Directed to a regional chronicle by a local resident, the narrator reads the 200-year-old account of a woman terrorized by her jealous husband, a mysterious and gruesome murder, and the sensational trial of the survivor. You can follow the links above to read all three tales online, and for today's Sunday Salon I thought I'd share a different kind of ghost story by literary favorite, Mark Twain... about the Cardiff Giant...

A Ghost Story

I TOOK a large room, far up Broadway, in a huge old building whose upper stories had been wholly unoccupied for years, until I came. The place had long been given up to dust and cobwebs, to solitude and silence. I seemed groping among the tombs and invading the privacy of the dead, that first night I climbed up to my quarters. For the first time in my life a superstitious dread came over me; and as I turned a dark angle of the stairway and an invisible cobweb swung its slazy woof in my face and clung there, I shuddered as one who had encountered a phantom.

I was glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mould and the darkness. A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down before it with a comforting sense of relief. For two hours I sat there, thinking of bygone times; recalling old scenes, and summoning half-forgotten faces out of the mists of the past; listening, in fancy, to voices that long ago grew silent for all time, and to once familiar songs that nobody sings now. And as my reverie softened down to a sadder and sadder pathos, the shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail, the angry beating of the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquil patter, and one by one the noises in the street subsided, until the hurrying foot-steps of the last belated straggler died away in the distance and left no sound behind.

The fire had burned low. A sense of loneliness crept over me. I arose and undressed, moving on tiptoe about the room, doing stealthily what I had to do, as if I were environed by sleeping enemies whose slumbers it would be fatal to break. I covered up in bed, and lay listening to the rain and wind and the faint creaking of distant shutters, till they lulled me to sleep.

I slept profoundly, but how long I do not know. All at once I found myself awake, and filled with a shuddering expectancy. All was still. All but my own heart -- I could hear it beat. Presently the bed- clothes began to slip away slowly toward the foot of the bed, as if some one were pulling them! I could not stir; I could not speak. Still the blankets slipped deliberately away, till my breast was un- covered. Then with a great effort I seized them and drew them over my head. I waited, listened, waited.

Once more that steady pull began, and once more I lay torpid a century of dragging seconds till my breast was naked again. At last I roused my energies and snatched the covers back to their place and held them with a strong grip. I waited. By and by I felt a faint tug, and took a fresh grip. The tug strengthened to a steady strain -- it grew stronger and stronger. My hold parted, and for the third time the blankets slid away. I groaned.

An answering groan came from the foot of the bed! Beaded drops of sweat stood upon my forehead. I was more dead than alive. Presently I heard a heavy footstep in my room -- the step of an elephant, it seemed to me -- it was not like anything human. But it was moving FROM me -- there was relief in that. I heard it approach the door -- pass out without moving bolt or lock -- and wander away among the dismal corridors, straining the floors and joists till they creaked again as it passed -- and then silence reigned once more.

When my excitement had calmed, I said to myself, "This is a dream -- simply a hideous dream." And so I lay thinking it over until I convinced myself that it WAS a dream, and then a comforting laugh relaxed my lips and I was happy again. I got up and struck a light; and when I found that the locks and bolts were just as I had left them, another soothing laugh welled in my heart and rippled from my lips. I took my pipe and lit it, and was just sitting down before the fire, when -- down went the pipe out of my nerveless fingers, the blood forsook my cheeks, and my placid breathing was cut short with a gasp! In the ashes on the hearth, side by side with my own bare footprint, was another, so vast that in comparison mine was but an infant's'! Then I had HAD a visitor, and the elephant tread was explained.

I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a long time, peering into the darkness, and listening. Then I heard a grating noise overhead, like the dragging of a heavy body across the floor; then the throwing down of the body, and the shaking of my windows in response to the concussion. In distant parts of the building I heard the muffled slamming of doors. I heard, at intervals, stealthy footsteps creeping in and out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. Sometimes these noises approached my door, hesitated, and went away again. I heard the clanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened while the clanking grew nearer -- while it wearily climbed the stairways, marking each move by the loose surplus of chain that fell with an accented rattle upon each succeeding step as the goblin that bore it advanced. I heard muttered sentences; half-uttered screams that seemed smothered violently; and the swish of invisible garments, the rush of invisible wings. Then I became conscious that my chamber was invaded -- that I was not alone. I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious whisperings. Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on the ceiling directly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and then dropped -- two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They spattered, liquidly, and felt warm.

Intuition told me they had turned to gouts of blood as they fell -- I needed no light to satisfy myself of that. Then I saw pallid faces, dimly luminous, and white uplifted hands, floating bodiless in the air -- floating a moment and then disappearing. The whispering ceased, and the voices and the sounds, and a solemn stillness followed. I waited and listened. I felt that I must have light or die. I was weak with fear. I slowly raised myself toward a sitting posture, and my face came in contact with a clammy hand! All strength went from me apparently, and I fell back like a stricken invalid. Then I heard the rustle of a garment -- it seemed to pass to the door and go out.

When everything was still once more, I crept out of bed, sick and feeble, and lit the gas with a hand that trembled as if it were aged with a hundred years. The light brought some little cheer to my spirits. I sat down and fell into a dreamy contemplation of that great footprint in the ashes. By and by its outlines began to waver and grow dim. I glanced up and the broad gas flame was slowly wilting away. In the same moment I heard that elephantine tread again. I noted its approach, nearer and nearer, along the musty halls, and dimmer and dimmer the light waned. The tread reached my very door and paused -- the light had dwindled to a sickly blue, and all things about me lay in a spectral twilight. The door did not open, and yet I felt a faint gust of air fan my cheek, and presently was conscious of a huge, cloudy presence before me. I watched it with fascinated eyes. A pale glow stole over the Thing; gradually its cloudy folds took shape -- an arm appeared, then legs, then a body, and last a great sad face looked out of the vapor. Stripped of its filmy housings, naked, muscular and comely, the majestic Cardiff Giant loomed above me!

All my misery vanished -- for a child might know that no harm could come with that benignant countenance. My cheerful spirits returned at once, and in sympathy with them the gas flamed up brightly again. Never a lonely outcast was so glad to welcome company as I was to greet the friendly giant. I said:

"Why, is it nobody but you? Do you know, I have been scared to death for the last two or three hours? I am most honestly glad to see you. I wish I had a chair -- Here, here, don't try to sit down in that thing!

But it was too late. He was in it before I could stop him, and down he went -- I never saw a chair shivered so in my life. "Stop, stop, You'll ruin ev--"

Too late again. There was another crash, and another chair was resolved into its original elements.

"Confound it, haven't you got any judgment at all? Do you want to ruin all the furniture on the place? Here, here, you petrified fool--"

But it was no use. Before I could arrest him he had sat down on the bed, and it was a melancholy ruin.

"Now what sort of a way is that to do? First you come lumbering about the place bringing a legion of vagabond goblins along with you to worry me to death, and then when I overlook an indelicacy of costume which would not be tolerated anywhere by cultivated people except in a respectable theater, and not even there if the nudity were of YOUR sex, you repay me by wrecking all the furniture you can find to sit down on. And why will you? You damage yourself as much as you do me. You have broken off the end of your spinal column, and littered up the floor with chips of your hams till the place looks like a marble yard. You ought to be ashamed of yourself -- you are big enough to know better."

"Well, I will not break any more furniture. But what am I to do? I have not had a chance to sit down for a century." And the tears came into his eyes.

"Poor devil," I said, "I should not have been so harsh with you. And you are an orphan, too, no doubt. But sit down on the floor here -- nothing else can stand your weight -- and besides, we cannot be sociable with you away up there above me; I want you down where I can perch on this high counting-house stool and gossip with you face to face."

So he sat down on the floor, and lit a pipe which I gave him, threw one of my red blankets over his shoulders, inverted my sitz-bath on his head, helmet fashion, and made himself picturesque and comfortable. Then he crossed his ankles, while I renewed the fire, and exposed the flat, honey-combed bottoms of his prodigious feet to the grateful warmth.

"What is the matter with the bottom of your feet and the back of your legs, that they are gouged up so?"

"Infernal chillblains -- I caught them clear up to the back of my head, roosting out there under Newell's farm. But I love the place; I love it as one loves his old home. There is no peace for me like the peace I feel when I am there."

We talked along for half an hour, and then I noticed that he looked tired, and spoke of it. "Tired?" he said. "Well, I should think so. And now I will tell you all about it, since you have treated me so well. I am the spirit of the Petrified Man that lies across the street there in the Museum. I am the ghost of the Cardiff Giant. I can have no rest, no peace, till they have given that poor body burial again. Now what was the most natural thing for me to do, to make men satisfy this wish? Terrify them into it! -- haunt the place where the body lay! So I haunted the museum night after night. I even got other spirits to help me. But it did no good, for nobody ever came to the museum at midnight. Then it occurred to me to come over the way and haunt this place a little. I felt that if I ever got a hearing I must succeed, for I had the most efficient company that perdition could furnish. Night after night we have shivered around through these mildewed halls, dragging chains, groaning, whispering, tramping up and down stairs, till, to tell you the truth, I am almost worn out. But when I saw a light in your room to-night I roused my energies again and went at it with a deal of the old freshness. But I am tired out -- entirely fagged out. Give me, I beseech you, give me some hope!"

I lit off my perch in a burst of excitement, and exclaimed:

"This transcends everything -- everything that ever did occur! Why you poor blundering old fossil, you have had all your trouble for nothing -- you have been haunting a PLASTER CAST of your- self -- the real Cardiff Giant is in Albany!

[Footnote by Twain: A fact. The original fraud was ingeniously and fraudfully duplicated, and exhibited in New York as the "only genuine" Cardiff Giant (to the unspeakable disgust of the owners of the real colossus) at the very same time that the latter was drawing crowds at a museum in Albany.]

Confound it, don't you know your own remains?"

I never saw such an eloquent look of shame, of pitiable humiliation, overspread a countenance before.

The Petrified Man rose slowly to his feet, and said:

"Honestly, IS that true?"

"As true as I am sitting here."

He took the pipe from his mouth and laid it on the mantel, then stood irresolute a moment (unconsciously, from old habit, thrusting his hands where his pantaloons pockets should have been, and meditatively dropping his chin on his breast), and finally said:

"Well -- I NEVER felt so absurd before. The Petrified Man has sold everybody else, and now the mean fraud has ended by selling its own ghost! My son, if there is any charity left in your heart for a poor friendless phantom like me, don't let this get out. Think how YOU would feel if you had made such an ass of yourself."

I heard his, stately tramp die away, step by step down the stairs and out into the deserted street, and felt sorry that he was gone, poor fellow -- and sorrier still that he had carried off my red blanket and my bath tub.

From "Sketches New and Old", Copyright 1903, Samuel Clemens

Happy Halloween Everyone! And Happy Reading... Suzanne

The Sunday Salon and a little Ghost Story by Mark Twain for Halloween

It's Sunday! And Halloween! The ancient Celts thought that Halloween was the day when the dead can return to roam the earth, and they would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off the evils of the night... Are you lighting your bonfires tonight?! Maybe just a pumpkin or two? What better time of year for a ghost story... There have been many ghost stories written by famous authors including The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving and The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. Even Edith Wharton has written a collection of ghost stories, including Kerfol which is said to be her best, where a wealthy bachelor, urged by friends to purchase a home in Brittany, finds the estate of Kerfol devoid of human presence and populated instead by a pack of eerily silent dogs. Directed to a regional chronicle by a local resident, the narrator reads the 200-year-old account of a woman terrorized by her jealous husband, a mysterious and gruesome murder, and the sensational trial of the survivor. You can follow the links above to read all three tales online, and for today's Sunday Salon I thought I'd share a different kind of ghost story by literary favorite, Mark Twain... about the Cardiff Giant...

A Ghost Story

I TOOK a large room, far up Broadway, in a huge old building whose upper stories had been wholly unoccupied for years, until I came. The place had long been given up to dust and cobwebs, to solitude and silence. I seemed groping among the tombs and invading the privacy of the dead, that first night I climbed up to my quarters. For the first time in my life a superstitious dread came over me; and as I turned a dark angle of the stairway and an invisible cobweb swung its slazy woof in my face and clung there, I shuddered as one who had encountered a phantom.

I was glad enough when I reached my room and locked out the mould and the darkness. A cheery fire was burning in the grate, and I sat down before it with a comforting sense of relief. For two hours I sat there, thinking of bygone times; recalling old scenes, and summoning half-forgotten faces out of the mists of the past; listening, in fancy, to voices that long ago grew silent for all time, and to once familiar songs that nobody sings now. And as my reverie softened down to a sadder and sadder pathos, the shrieking of the winds outside softened to a wail, the angry beating of the rain against the panes diminished to a tranquil patter, and one by one the noises in the street subsided, until the hurrying foot-steps of the last belated straggler died away in the distance and left no sound behind.

The fire had burned low. A sense of loneliness crept over me. I arose and undressed, moving on tiptoe about the room, doing stealthily what I had to do, as if I were environed by sleeping enemies whose slumbers it would be fatal to break. I covered up in bed, and lay listening to the rain and wind and the faint creaking of distant shutters, till they lulled me to sleep.

I slept profoundly, but how long I do not know. All at once I found myself awake, and filled with a shuddering expectancy. All was still. All but my own heart -- I could hear it beat. Presently the bed- clothes began to slip away slowly toward the foot of the bed, as if some one were pulling them! I could not stir; I could not speak. Still the blankets slipped deliberately away, till my breast was un- covered. Then with a great effort I seized them and drew them over my head. I waited, listened, waited.

Once more that steady pull began, and once more I lay torpid a century of dragging seconds till my breast was naked again. At last I roused my energies and snatched the covers back to their place and held them with a strong grip. I waited. By and by I felt a faint tug, and took a fresh grip. The tug strengthened to a steady strain -- it grew stronger and stronger. My hold parted, and for the third time the blankets slid away. I groaned.

An answering groan came from the foot of the bed! Beaded drops of sweat stood upon my forehead. I was more dead than alive. Presently I heard a heavy footstep in my room -- the step of an elephant, it seemed to me -- it was not like anything human. But it was moving FROM me -- there was relief in that. I heard it approach the door -- pass out without moving bolt or lock -- and wander away among the dismal corridors, straining the floors and joists till they creaked again as it passed -- and then silence reigned once more.

When my excitement had calmed, I said to myself, "This is a dream -- simply a hideous dream." And so I lay thinking it over until I convinced myself that it WAS a dream, and then a comforting laugh relaxed my lips and I was happy again. I got up and struck a light; and when I found that the locks and bolts were just as I had left them, another soothing laugh welled in my heart and rippled from my lips. I took my pipe and lit it, and was just sitting down before the fire, when -- down went the pipe out of my nerveless fingers, the blood forsook my cheeks, and my placid breathing was cut short with a gasp! In the ashes on the hearth, side by side with my own bare footprint, was another, so vast that in comparison mine was but an infant's'! Then I had HAD a visitor, and the elephant tread was explained.

I put out the light and returned to bed, palsied with fear. I lay a long time, peering into the darkness, and listening. Then I heard a grating noise overhead, like the dragging of a heavy body across the floor; then the throwing down of the body, and the shaking of my windows in response to the concussion. In distant parts of the building I heard the muffled slamming of doors. I heard, at intervals, stealthy footsteps creeping in and out among the corridors, and up and down the stairs. Sometimes these noises approached my door, hesitated, and went away again. I heard the clanking of chains faintly, in remote passages, and listened while the clanking grew nearer -- while it wearily climbed the stairways, marking each move by the loose surplus of chain that fell with an accented rattle upon each succeeding step as the goblin that bore it advanced. I heard muttered sentences; half-uttered screams that seemed smothered violently; and the swish of invisible garments, the rush of invisible wings. Then I became conscious that my chamber was invaded -- that I was not alone. I heard sighs and breathings about my bed, and mysterious whisperings. Three little spheres of soft phosphorescent light appeared on the ceiling directly over my head, clung and glowed there a moment, and then dropped -- two of them upon my face and one upon the pillow. They spattered, liquidly, and felt warm.

Intuition told me they had turned to gouts of blood as they fell -- I needed no light to satisfy myself of that. Then I saw pallid faces, dimly luminous, and white uplifted hands, floating bodiless in the air -- floating a moment and then disappearing. The whispering ceased, and the voices and the sounds, and a solemn stillness followed. I waited and listened. I felt that I must have light or die. I was weak with fear. I slowly raised myself toward a sitting posture, and my face came in contact with a clammy hand! All strength went from me apparently, and I fell back like a stricken invalid. Then I heard the rustle of a garment -- it seemed to pass to the door and go out.

When everything was still once more, I crept out of bed, sick and feeble, and lit the gas with a hand that trembled as if it were aged with a hundred years. The light brought some little cheer to my spirits. I sat down and fell into a dreamy contemplation of that great footprint in the ashes. By and by its outlines began to waver and grow dim. I glanced up and the broad gas flame was slowly wilting away. In the same moment I heard that elephantine tread again. I noted its approach, nearer and nearer, along the musty halls, and dimmer and dimmer the light waned. The tread reached my very door and paused -- the light had dwindled to a sickly blue, and all things about me lay in a spectral twilight. The door did not open, and yet I felt a faint gust of air fan my cheek, and presently was conscious of a huge, cloudy presence before me. I watched it with fascinated eyes. A pale glow stole over the Thing; gradually its cloudy folds took shape -- an arm appeared, then legs, then a body, and last a great sad face looked out of the vapor. Stripped of its filmy housings, naked, muscular and comely, the majestic Cardiff Giant loomed above me!

All my misery vanished -- for a child might know that no harm could come with that benignant countenance. My cheerful spirits returned at once, and in sympathy with them the gas flamed up brightly again. Never a lonely outcast was so glad to welcome company as I was to greet the friendly giant. I said:

"Why, is it nobody but you? Do you know, I have been scared to death for the last two or three hours? I am most honestly glad to see you. I wish I had a chair -- Here, here, don't try to sit down in that thing!

But it was too late. He was in it before I could stop him, and down he went -- I never saw a chair shivered so in my life. "Stop, stop, You'll ruin ev--"

Too late again. There was another crash, and another chair was resolved into its original elements.

"Confound it, haven't you got any judgment at all? Do you want to ruin all the furniture on the place? Here, here, you petrified fool--"

But it was no use. Before I could arrest him he had sat down on the bed, and it was a melancholy ruin.

"Now what sort of a way is that to do? First you come lumbering about the place bringing a legion of vagabond goblins along with you to worry me to death, and then when I overlook an indelicacy of costume which would not be tolerated anywhere by cultivated people except in a respectable theater, and not even there if the nudity were of YOUR sex, you repay me by wrecking all the furniture you can find to sit down on. And why will you? You damage yourself as much as you do me. You have broken off the end of your spinal column, and littered up the floor with chips of your hams till the place looks like a marble yard. You ought to be ashamed of yourself -- you are big enough to know better."

"Well, I will not break any more furniture. But what am I to do? I have not had a chance to sit down for a century." And the tears came into his eyes.

"Poor devil," I said, "I should not have been so harsh with you. And you are an orphan, too, no doubt. But sit down on the floor here -- nothing else can stand your weight -- and besides, we cannot be sociable with you away up there above me; I want you down where I can perch on this high counting-house stool and gossip with you face to face."

So he sat down on the floor, and lit a pipe which I gave him, threw one of my red blankets over his shoulders, inverted my sitz-bath on his head, helmet fashion, and made himself picturesque and comfortable. Then he crossed his ankles, while I renewed the fire, and exposed the flat, honey-combed bottoms of his prodigious feet to the grateful warmth.

"What is the matter with the bottom of your feet and the back of your legs, that they are gouged up so?"

"Infernal chillblains -- I caught them clear up to the back of my head, roosting out there under Newell's farm. But I love the place; I love it as one loves his old home. There is no peace for me like the peace I feel when I am there."

We talked along for half an hour, and then I noticed that he looked tired, and spoke of it. "Tired?" he said. "Well, I should think so. And now I will tell you all about it, since you have treated me so well. I am the spirit of the Petrified Man that lies across the street there in the Museum. I am the ghost of the Cardiff Giant. I can have no rest, no peace, till they have given that poor body burial again. Now what was the most natural thing for me to do, to make men satisfy this wish? Terrify them into it! -- haunt the place where the body lay! So I haunted the museum night after night. I even got other spirits to help me. But it did no good, for nobody ever came to the museum at midnight. Then it occurred to me to come over the way and haunt this place a little. I felt that if I ever got a hearing I must succeed, for I had the most efficient company that perdition could furnish. Night after night we have shivered around through these mildewed halls, dragging chains, groaning, whispering, tramping up and down stairs, till, to tell you the truth, I am almost worn out. But when I saw a light in your room to-night I roused my energies again and went at it with a deal of the old freshness. But I am tired out -- entirely fagged out. Give me, I beseech you, give me some hope!"

I lit off my perch in a burst of excitement, and exclaimed:

"This transcends everything -- everything that ever did occur! Why you poor blundering old fossil, you have had all your trouble for nothing -- you have been haunting a PLASTER CAST of your- self -- the real Cardiff Giant is in Albany!

[Footnote by Twain: A fact. The original fraud was ingeniously and fraudfully duplicated, and exhibited in New York as the "only genuine" Cardiff Giant (to the unspeakable disgust of the owners of the real colossus) at the very same time that the latter was drawing crowds at a museum in Albany.]

Confound it, don't you know your own remains?"

I never saw such an eloquent look of shame, of pitiable humiliation, overspread a countenance before.

The Petrified Man rose slowly to his feet, and said:

"Honestly, IS that true?"

"As true as I am sitting here."

He took the pipe from his mouth and laid it on the mantel, then stood irresolute a moment (unconsciously, from old habit, thrusting his hands where his pantaloons pockets should have been, and meditatively dropping his chin on his breast), and finally said:

"Well -- I NEVER felt so absurd before. The Petrified Man has sold everybody else, and now the mean fraud has ended by selling its own ghost! My son, if there is any charity left in your heart for a poor friendless phantom like me, don't let this get out. Think how YOU would feel if you had made such an ass of yourself."

I heard his, stately tramp die away, step by step down the stairs and out into the deserted street, and felt sorry that he was gone, poor fellow -- and sorrier still that he had carried off my red blanket and my bath tub.

From "Sketches New and Old", Copyright 1903, Samuel Clemens

Happy Halloween Everyone! And Happy Reading... Suzanne