Part 5

Keith Pearson’s death is in the category of being one of the “reactivity deaths”, my term for those deaths where the slightest mention of the dangerous word seems to have killers round at your door, maybe eventually, maybe very differently to the story appearing in the papers.
So reactivity death: Italian girl Alessandra Marconi, hmmm, problematic surname that – resident of 451 Calder Road, Sighthill, Edinburgh, had spent one week in Britain studying at Stevenson’s College of Further Education, (college/polytechnic, think back to Steve Kountis) in Edinburgh, mid-1990s, planning to enjoy a bit of Scottish education, aged 18, whereupon she walked out onto the outside main road to be smashed twenty feet into the air by a car, as if in a daze, hypno-programmed, more than hypnotised.
Tut tut. Careless 18-year-old lass. Should know better than to go about with a surname like that.

One can only imagine she must have been violently interrogated in Britain because of her surname, then because of that very abduction & interrogation enabling her to identify some of these fascist lunatics, they’ve had to kill her (via hypno-programming) rather than have her return home to Guglielmo Marconi’s homeland to tell people “There’s a helluva big thing going on about Marconi in Britain, Mum.”
Her mother, rather suspicious of the Scottish reports, made a special trip to Britain to look at the death site a few weeks later.
Somehow, a few years after Alessandra’s death, I mentioned that death to my friend Roy Isserliss, a slavish acolyte of Mark Thomas, I mean following him around Britain attending every show he can physically manage……because something else mysterious had occurred in Stevenson’s College….and Roy responded,
“Oh, you’re into all the mysterious deaths that’ve happened to people who had something to do with Stevenson’s College, are you?” Both workers for the College & students had died in mysterious circumstances over the decades, it seemed……I looked surprised and said,
“No, I didn’t know that many had happened.”

Another reactivity death, in the author’s humble opinion this is a reactivity death, is that of Fiona Brimble nee Mathieson, a BBC radio actress found dead in a hotel room in Tain in the north-west of Scotland. Have written down “police are not disclosing cause of death”, and written for the sake of English people, “inquests are not given in Scotland”. That’s a fourth reasonfordeath: undisclosed out of hundredsmaybethousands of deaths scoured in newspapers for this account. As many Marconi scientists’ strange deaths involve a lengthy journey before they reach their place of execution, driving something like 600 miles must be a record set for the genre. (Recently found out that Tain is very close to 600 miles away from London.)
She had a ten-month-old son at the time that she was reported missing (maybe we should introduce into English grammar ‘she was reported marconi’, it would feel like short-hand) by her husband Ian Brimble, the daughter of famous film music composer & conductor Muir Mathieson, who wrote the music for the second remake of “The Thirty-Nine Steps”, using Hitchcock’s version of John Buchan’s novel.
Fiona Brimble nee Mathieson had played the part of Clarnie Grundy for two years, in a very long running radio soap called “The Archers”, having taken over this role through the actor who previously played this radio role having always been arguing with the BBC authorities in 1985, she was called Heather Bell and I would like to meet that woman too.
“Fiona was very happy with the Archers role and took it because Ian and she wanted to start a family. This has come as a great shock to everyone.”
Actual date of death the 3rd of October, 1987.
As a Norwegian actress called Taina Elg, Tain-a you see, is in that second version of The 39 Steps, wonder if the fascists hypno-programmed Fiona to drive to Tain to create their little connection with the secret truth……that Buchan’s book intends to convey that the Western aristocracies cobbled together the 1st World War in their terror of proletarian sedition. If you are in on that secret you are called a “thirty-niner” in the “masons”……….

Hypno-programming.

Candy Jones was a film actress during the 1940s, and was to the 40s what Marilyn Monroe was to the sixties, really big stereotypical sex symbol…..Candy tried to get back into a normal life, left Hollywood film-making, and acquired a New York boutique during the 1950s…..and she then became the American intelligence network’s main focus for hypno-programming experimentation. They found that they could hypnotise her, programme her with a CIA task, such that her personality split…..Firstly, she’s the boutique shop owner called Candy Jones…..upon the turning of her keys to let her into her own flat, she suddenly became a CIA agent headed for espionage activities in Taiwan. She went there, was tortured by Taiwanese suspicious security agents, and she would not give under the torture because of the hypno-programming desensitisation. She returned to New York after two weeks, then upon the turning of her keys in the lock of her door letting her into her flat, suddenly became Candy Jones again. She went into the boutique and talked to her employees as if she had been on holiday in Buenos Aires, really believing she had been there on holiday thus accounting for her missing time from work.
American espionage agents repeatedly exploited Candy for this purpose.

Things like Thomas Hamilton shooting all those kids in Dunblane’s school,
Michael Ryan running riot in Hungerford shooting almost nothing but grandmothers, are likely to be hypno-programming incidents.
The American intelligence men had learned to generate great pain in someone’s body in order to generate a block-off of an area of memory…..

Hitman Shuts The Press Up

It’s obvious that this writing suggests a considerable amount of shutting up of the press. There is very little worth in a spiel of personal opinions, and/or reporting of facts which are reported almost everywhere else, there is greatest worth in reporting of stories informed of confidentially.
It counts as making historical use of the www.
So here’s an interview with a guy claiming he’d murdered someone, a hitjob for the local Mafia, then phoned up the press and told the police, “I don’t want that in there. Shut up or you’ll get the same.”

The method of exterminating this particular policeman had been to use a ninjutsu manoeuvre, which involves a violent swing of the hips into the side of the intended victim. Usually, depending on variations in height of respective antagonists, this is hip into hip, the attacker smashing the hip bone, however in this mafia hitjob the hitman brought his body-near left hand up behind the back of the policeman to clasp his neck at the precise moment that his hip smashed into the victim, the further away right hand being brought up towards the throat of the policeman, which he then ripped out releasing a massive gush of blood. He’d ripped the pig’s throat out with one hand, the speed of the hipsmash adding force. This will all have happened in less than a second.
“Women do that better than men.”
“The design of the hips of a woman?”
“Yeh, they’re better designed.”
“Is it really that easy to….er….”
“It’s easy to rip someone’s heart out. You just need to grab like this….it comes quite easily.”
“Did you get anything?”
“Ten thou.”
“Who wanted it done?”
“The head of the local Mafia.”
“Did he do the phoning?”
“No. I did. It went in as a heart attack, they didn’t not put it in.”
Part of this conversation involved him expressing his disgust at the extent to which this sort of thing is happening.
“I’ve tried to do something about some murders. I’ve been dead sure a crime was murder one and told the coroner, but he just flung it out the window. I’ve tried this quite a few times. There was a particular case where a teenage girl was found dead (writer deciding to omit details here) in her house, and I really tried hard to get this asserted as murder one by the coroner, but he just flings it out the window. He’s flung loads of murder ones out the window.”
“You’re saying you yourself became so disturbed by the amount of times the papers and authorities all seemed to be getting shut up you tried to do something about it?”
“Yeh. I’ve come to know quite a lot about dead bodies. I know which points on the body you can attach electrodes to, to make the corpse get up and walk about. But I’m absolutely not telling you those points.
“A corpse can get up and everything. I’ve seen a corpse get up off a slab in a mortuary, don’t think this is anything to do with me, but it got up, stood up, walked forward a few paces, raised one hand to its lips as if it was having a midnight tipple, then turned round and went back on the slab.”
“Definitely dead?”
“Yep. Definitely brain-dead. Flatlined.”
“You mean it was as if the body while alive, in doing something repetitious over many years, despite brain-death occurring, can carry out that repetitious act mindlessly? Like a programmed robot.”
“Yeh, it is very interesting.”

Morbid people find out morbid things. It is known over here in the west that soldiers in Afghanistan, the northern forces fighting the Taliban, began getting a laugh out of chopping off the head of a freshly-killed corpse and pouring petrol all over the decapitated cadaver. They then stand it upright, at which point they set the petrol alight, and the agitation of the nerves by the licking flames causes the corpse to walk around. Scientifically interesting, if you’ve got the head for it, like, if you’ve assisted in countless surgical operations, seen a surgeon press an area of an exposed area of brain making the penis erect for the amusement of the nurses, you can handle that.
The hitman mentioned he’d been in the Army during the late seventies/early 80s…..he began saying “After a certain amount of time in the Army….”
“How much time?”
“About three years. After three years you get asked if you want to practice just killing. They tell you you’ll go out in the street, pick someone and just kill them. A load of rubbish about who did it’ll get put in the papers for you. You get the choice, if you want to do it you do it, if you don’t you don’t. I refused and just left the Army. It was about three months after that two guys tried to mug me and I ripped them to bits.”
“You killed them?”
“Yeh. I totally ripped them to bits man. I appeared in court over it but got acquitted.”
The writer didn’t raise the question of whether they may have been sent out to destroy him because he knew too much about the Army. As a point of comparison, the former MI5 agent, mentioned occasionally in this treatise, expressed surprise at being attacked by three “muggers” more in terms of where than in terms of the act itself, which was close to the Edinburgh police station in Gayfield Square, and he defeated all three of them with Wing Chun manoeuvres.