Say what you want about *crazy* John Ford. Say that he's addled and daffy. Say that he's gone off the deep end, of course. Say that his brains are like taffy. Say he's a mental case, say he's a dope -- say that he's outside a reasonable scope. Say that he's gooney -- all loony-toony, not deserving your concern, and unworthy of your note.

…Compelled to serial murder? He's a bumbling Manson clone? He's eating funny mushrooms -- spends his off time getting stoned? He's a frothing, raving nut case, surely better behind bars?

I really think it's rather that his mind was on the stars.

He started asking questions that would likely bode us well; got mad when he was stonewalled, got strident, then, as hell <g>! He got right up some noses -- again and, then, again, to the point some felt his boot heels on their slick and smarmy chins. He made some calls, and he raked some muck, he wrote some dangerous letters. He only did what I'd do with the courage of my betters…

Consider the details, and the facts of his case! The plot is so bizarre my friend. It goes off in your face! It reads like a movie done cheap -- on the fly. It can't hold together -- it's pie in the sky! Radium toothpaste's beyond my belief, and "outside in his pickup" is less than concrete! An informant inside leads his words by the nose… -- is there more to this story, do you think or suppose?


My last sentence fragment drips with the most cloying and derisive sarcasm!

We should ALL be asking questions about this! John Ford was functioning well within the law in an ethical pursuit allegedly guaranteed by our *constitution*. Here's hoping YOU never feel compelled to speak up about something YOU feel is important, albeit inconvenient for the man. If so, YOU are next! Be afraid! Then get mad.

Turn the heat up, slow, on a frog, and it will sit complacently in its pot of water until it cooks. Feel the heat coming up, little froggies?


"There is plenty of reason to think the Suffolk Police were 'out to get' John Ford. And no member of the UFO community can be confident they understand the arrest of John Ford if their only source of information is the sensational media reports orchestrated by the Suffolk DA. That is why John's colleagues, including myself in Washington, DC, LIUFON vice president Steve Iavarone, and Tony West, Richard Jones, Preston Nichols, and Joe Zuppardo in New York, Don Jernigan of Ohio, and Kelly Freeman of Florida, have organized the John Ford Defense Committee. Our purpose is (1) to give people true information on the arrest of John Ford, and (2) collect funds and other resources essential for John's defense." -- Elaine M. Douglass (elaine26@juno.com).

The Committee needs funds for John's legal defense and donations of several kinds: a psychiatrist expert witness; professional audiotape analysis; and a Long Island-based legal investigator. Please also write personal letters to: John Ford (8-29-48), Suffolk County Jail, 100 Center Dr, Riverhead NY 11901.


I don't mean to obsess, and won't _call_ it obsession, I have few regrets, and I make no concession, but I'm scared of the man unconstrained and contrary that hides in a blind that defines arbitrary. He's the guy that's a name that you don't often hear. His life is a secret-- he has what's held dear. He has keys to the kingdom, and admissions of guilt; he's the man, understand, and he owns what you've built.

He vilifies due process, he has justice on the run, he knows the code's invented as the means to keep his fun. He's a traffic cop for bad guys, tells them when to go/slow up. He has written all the laws that make us wonder why -- give up? He writes the laws to _favor_ any way he makes his call, so we find them written plainly saying nothing much at all. Jurisprudence is illusion for the mass's rank and file -- sends a patronizing message that fair drips with smiling guile.

John Ford now sits sedated in a washed out, pink walled room. A victim of indifference, he is tucked into their womb. He's living in a hell on Earth for those that wish him quiet. They say that he's a killer, but you can't believe or buy it!

It's true John Ford asks questions. It's true that he can write. It's true that he gets up your nose, and it's true he'll fight the fight. He makes the toughest queries, and he'll check the story close, and facts aren't _clear_ on why the 'man' has got him presupposed.

He's incommunicado, if he spoke I hadn't heard; this man is in a silenced cage like a hamster or a bird. It's true he may be guilty of this thing they've said he's done, but I'd lay you odds it's bullshit, and go _up_ from ten to one!


Maybe someone in our honorable community can explain why that selfsame community is so ominously quiet on the subject of John Ford.

Do you think he's guilty? Really? And the facts of the case do not strike you as mysteriously contrived, and smolderingly convenient? You _don't_ think he got so far up someone's nose that they surgically removed him to a place where they could casually but inevitably, and then thoroughly -- discredit him?

You're next, pal, or pal-ette!

Don't start to wonder if I suddenly become quiet. Know this: I love life, I'm having a ball, depression and suicide as reasons for my suicide are _completely_ ludicrous. The same applies if I am accused of putting radium in an enemy's enema bag! If I become quiet begin to wonder, begin to be afraid. But, get mad -- now. Write some letters, make some noise -- stay within the confines of our *laws* and *constitution*, as useless as that advise appears to be. It didn't seen to provide John Ford any protection. Nothing is safe from the powerful arbitrary when he perceives a need to reach out and crush you like a bit of soiled tissue.

Oh -- by the way, I noticed a peculiar light low on the eastern horizon of this predawn morning. It traversed a soundless single line flying due north, jet fast, off the usual airway (I was a military aviator for 23 years). It flashed like a bright white strobe light, but in a random manner, though I saw it flash, _once_, a bright RED strobe, then back to random frequency white. It appeared to jerk back and forth in a thumb thickness as it traversed this single line, _accounting_ then for false autokenetic movements. After traversing this single line for about forty-five degrees in my field of view, the light, inexplicably, blinked out. Yeah. On my honor as a deacon in my own church of "It Ain't What You Think…", the same as any president, trusted friend, honored relative, or holy person -- Yeah!

So -- how about those contestants favored in the current Super-Bowl distraction?

Free John Ford!


What kind of joy filled season has our old friend John Ford had? Did he sit around with friends and smoke and joke? Did he unwrap all the presents that they deigned to let him have; did he hear from any family or folk? Did he eat a ham or turkey? Did he pound some pumpkin pie, or did he sit, a placid heap, his heartfelt wish that he would die?

You know he feels forgotten through the haze of drugs he's forced. And you know they keep him doped "for his own good." You know he's feeling pressure from the darkest pits of hell, but the reasons are not clear, nor are they _even_ understood! Suffolk county says he's dirty -- that he tried to kill some folks, but the story smells of guppies and sardines. It's all contrived to misdirect attention from what's real? It's the man at crushing best, and it's obscene.

Call on ABC or CBS or NBC. Drop a line to C-Span -- CNN. Ask them what the deal is, and can't attention please be given to this man, all but forgotten, I portend. _Why_ is Ford forsaken, and _where's_ his spot on Sixty Minutes, and _why_ is he in trouble making bail? …Plenty worse than him released from prison every day, but they hold him in a nut ward of a jail.

"He should be in a nut ward -- as he dared to question why! He'd be ripping off our blinders! We'd be free to see the sky! He's wants to put a light on what we'd sooner keep in darkness, so let's lie him in a hole we've made to keep him safe and harmless."

What _was_ he so involved in, and _what_ had he found out? Where was all the evidence that 'the man' can do without? Where'd he get the *hot stuff* that was found outside his pickup, and what of jurisprudence, then, as wholesome as a spit cup?

Why is he _ignored_, and left to rot in wrongful dungeons? Why can't he get a hearing; why's he getting culture's truncheon? What is in his heart when he can see that he's alone, for a crime gone uncommitted, then, for which he must atone?


Ironic -- that at this seasonal juncture another man suffers a crucifixion for, likely, what he thought, said, and did within the law.

I've always said it -- but where there is actual threat there is no paranoia -- your fear is justified. We are all set precariously close to an edge of something that we _could_ be preparing for. This thing has a beneficial potential, like a hard driving rain for a parched pond. It may be that the rain has a bit of hail in it, but it _is_ all water -- besides, I feel I know where the hail is going … the hail you say!

Free John Ford!


Write it off as wallowing in my own naiveté. I was hoping that the righteous motes were here. But there's none of what I'm looking for I'd really likely find; what's real's likely way beyond what's queer. Likely way beyond experience, and shot from different guns, the weave of things addresses what we're not. And it shows up in the actions of the ones that stake their claim on this puzzle they're not seeing we've all got.

It's everybody's puzzle and we all should get an answer to the mystery that lies, and cheats and teases. The ones that do research are the ones so often hurt by the 'one' that's always done just what he pleases. Remember, please, John Ford, and consider his confinement as a black mark on the labor some perform.

"…Into UFO research? Then you might be like that jerk, the 'flying saucer killer' ol' John Ford."

Let the 'man' grind down on _him_ without a single peep from you, and the deed is quicker done on you and me! If they cap off Johnny Ford they have drawn a stealthy sword and they slash at any chance that we'd be free.

Some of us are wolves that prowl a land we think we own, and are pissing on its corners, stems, and twigs. It is vaulting over tick turds and distracting from the search, as attractive as a swine farm full of pigs.

The *glee* that we're displaying when we're catching people human is a game the meanest children always play. And it's children we're revealing when engaged in doubtful dealing that the field's been evolved to, hard to say!

But suffer single take downs, at your peril, with indifference. It won't be long they've made their way to you. Where's salvation coming from, when you're the one that needs it! John Ford is going down, dear list, obscene, unjust -- but true.


Why should Ufologists be any better than, say, lawyers? And the answer is I'm loath to associate myself with lawyers, and would prefer the company of those that _might_ see beyond our conspiring cultural pale -- past the tiny fractions of perception offered up by shallow inadequate senses … a more efficacious appreciation for what many of us presently perceive as unjustly applied and conveniently interpreted reality. I would prefer the company of Ufologists even if I knew most of them were lying to me, as I know ALL the lawyers are lying to me. Christ! That sounded an awful lot like I said ufologists are ethically and morally superior to lawyers! Somebody STOP me!

Come on! Brothers and sisters, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls -- fellow motes -- come together on this thing!

Bug the networks! Write some E-mail; send a letter. There are _many_ in this community that could step on a short fused truth somewhere and be the subject of these same *special* attentions suffered by John Ford. John Ford may be wrong; John Ford may be obsessed -- John Ford may get up yer butt so far you can feel his boot toes burrowing into the insteps of your knees -- but that doesn't make him a murderer!

Additionally, there is a handful of people close to John Ford (people who know the particulars) who will stand right up for him. Is it not more logical to fall in with them, whatever the outcome, than take the _word_ of the institution (the Suffolk county machine) that Ford was so stridently critical of? John Ford, an individual, was publicly AFTER the *machine* that brought him down -- now that STINKS, friends and neighbors, stinks like a moldy latrine door on a tuna boat!

And not to single anyone out, but where is a similar (however petulant) outrage (recently displayed) for even more outrageous and unethical behaviors committed by (un-admitted) enemies of an honest truth you profess an interest in uncovering? One of your own's buried alive in an arbitrary hole, the victim of very questionable and bizarre circumstances, while you argue tired signatures, and absolutist ethical ideals -- ideals conveniently applied many times, I observe, or most here don't stretch their position (however slightly) by omission of non supporting data. No one holds the high ground more ethical than the other, and then is able to sneer from those imagined battlements refined criticisms that enrage, impugn, and inflame the obstinate, even wrong, retort. Nothing gained there!

It seems to me there are bigger fish to fry. It also seems to me that one of the chakra (sp?) junctures of ufological significance might be right at the point that keeps John Ford from the light of day! Getting to the bottom of the John Ford imbroglio, whatever the outcome, could be a watershed of illuminating information!

But, maybe we don't want any answers! Maybe we're just interested in pissing in the corners of something we pretend to own, and making feathered displays at those that transgress our imagined borders. *Inconveniently*, while we spout, strut and preen, there are those that languish, likely unjustly. Finally, freeing John Ford may be a prodigious step taken in the direction of freeing ourselves from this worrying irresponsibility of doing nothing at all to relieve a threat on our _own_ persons. Consider _that_!

Free John Ford.


For a moment the clouds were an unsullied white, the shadows lessor brightness, and a scent to the Earth promised one more rebirth, a scent much too early to suit former rightness. The ebb and the flow of the smells of the colors, speak to an arduous time, we discover. The physical's mystical, impeachable -- statistical; it moves with a talent, its own, egotistical. The birds fly in twos all a' squabble, involved -- What's real for them is the *stuff*. On the strength of mere genes they don't find it obscene to play with their feelings enough.

The sky wears a veil, the deepest of blues, and the clouds in the air are like harp strings. They sound the deep chords that the whales have heard, and they're hearing it now as it shrieks and it sings. A song of the earth that has watched come and go all the races of life truly more than we know. A song with its treble so deep in your bass it's as over your head as it's up in your face!

This is the world we believe *understood*. This is the world that we're told is not *good*. This is the planet we sully in ignorance, this is a planet we treat with belligerence. This is a planet infested with parasite; ignorant beasts with an odorous might. Short in its memory, even shorter in mind, it's made to pervade all the life it can find.

Call me crazy, lacking relevance -- but there's weird stuff in our skies that the man would tear your eye from. He distracts, I wonder why? Whenever this has happened, from our dimmest hoary past, then there's something that he's hiding; we always find out at the last. Like it's fossil fuels that keeps him with your neck beneath his soot, so forget about *new* batteries, he'd rather keep you in under foot. If the corporate boys at burger king, in need of fresh dwellings (to live like old kings) … millions will starve, then, to feed all the beef that are burgers and fries for your Friday night's *treat*.

These are the guys who clutter the temples they've built from the sweat of your brow. These are the guys who've hid away secrets uncovered at last, about now. These are the guys that can look in their skies and *know* that they're God's favorite. These are the guys that are living their lives real grand 'cause they don't have to pay for it. These are the guys, I entreat, I implore, … these are those threatened by our own Johnny Ford.

And the veiled sky gives no warning of a coming time of strife for those that think him rabble, bet your money, bet your life. John Ford is not a charlatan; he's a straight up man instead, and in truth he's lost most everything … likely wishing he was dead.


"Heat a frog in water…" (#185)

They miscalculated with John -- John started to hop before the water got hot -- they _had_ to spank him. It's what you can do when you have no conscience, are conflicted by a misunderstood Machiavelli, and at the receiving end of largesse you become accustomed to as a _right_.

But it ain't _right_ -- bunky!

You just don't get to live in a manner enjoyed by the *nobility* when there is just one person you have to destroy to maintain your *life-style*. Who pays so _you_ can play?

Living a lie takes its toll. Unappreciated tolls include driving away those that are suggested by Dr. Drake's shocking, but illuminating equation. It makes us suspect and repellant, unworthy of the tiniest elevation by "those that are suggested." Finally, it will lead to an eventual despair as we are reviled and left alone to stew in our own toxic and self inflicted juices. We won't be ALLOWED off planet! Hell on Earth <sarcastic circuitry meltdown narrowly averted> at last! Bother said Pooh … they may even steer a big asteroid down the throat of our greedy gravity well just to put out our misery…

Free John Ford!


I know the man that produced the man that's nearest to my soul. He's psychopathic, unclean living, people hating -- cold. He's stealing from his credit cards, he leans on Walton's store. He owes on bills he'll never yield, so he's stealing from the poor. His motto is to make us pay, before we do to him -- what he in fact does see some do on arbitrary whim. He calls himself a patriot -- that refuge of a scoundrel, he brought his kids up on abuse, he gave all three bad counsel. One's a paid assassin; one murdered three then self; the last is quite the opposite. He's a saint who knows himself.

Self actualized and learned he puts his finger where it hurts and shows us where we're bleeding when we stumble in the murk. He has a strong compassion for a fair play dream ideal that would move us into space right now in a million living wheels. The riches would be dreamlike and we'd lose most all our pain, if we got the hell off mother Earth and gave her some refrain.

He pointed up that laws are writ with big men in control; it's simpler then to work ill will while the opposite's extolled. The 'man' can MAKE you crazy; the 'man' can work his will; the 'man' can treat your rights like so much sludge or garden fill. Institutions are their prisons and contrived to obfuscate the rights of one to speedy trials; they make the facts, then, late. Labeled *crazy* one's *unfit* to list the facts/defense to free them. This is why they get no trial, so YOU won't get to see them!

Remember this when *shadows* gather up, and take _your_ stuff. Remember this when right's are trampled, like they are -- enough's enough! Shadows set the scene with money that is spent to paint you crazy so a few can work ill will on YOU, beware! Stop being lazy!

Compared to our antagonist, the old man at the top, John Ford's a knighted saint (way high), and his ethics are untopped. But we suffer the old psychopath that's lessor than the kid that sells some crack to school chums -- we will, and have, and did. John Ford was getting noisy with reports of "water heating" so they stuffed him deep into a hole for status quo safe keeping? And it may be that he's crazy -- but was _driven_ to it, friend! He called attention to their *stuff* … it was _that_ that locked him in!


Court TV! -- Let's add THEM to our short list of those to get our attention! It's a natural! It's topical and sure to increase ratings! (sheesh -- talk about serpents for bedfellows. Let's throw in a car salesman and a loan officer, and run _off_ the honest hooker <g>)

Yeah! Yeah! What if he really _is_ unbalanced, or a few chops short of a mixed grill? On the other hand, what if he _is_ being persecuted for honest, sincere, and _justified_ PASSIONS that _all_ of us would feel if _any_ of us had gotten near to the bottom of his strident (and ironic!) uphill investigation! The conditions, occurrences, and events surrounding the confinement of John Ford begs a SECOND or even THIRD (forth!) look at his plight. A look he will _not_ get if we accept the word of the "Ford hounded", and likely, unethical machine that's confined him.

Him now … you later. And probably soon.

If I was there you could free him to MY custody. I'd take a chance! At least I would be willing to make up my own mind! Hound the networks!

Free John Ford, hell! …_RESTORE_ John Ford!!


Oh, I know that I'm obnoxious <g>. Conscience usually is. I read and see conclusions the elitist would dismiss. I'm not a bleeding liberal but I'm inclusive as the devil and I know our game's unfairly played -- it's canted, shaped, and beveled! I accept that there are criminals. I accept they should be blamed for a lack of real innocence that they've lied about and claimed. But, that's a sword that cuts two ways, and just as well for both. Who IS the real criminal, and then we see the joke!

The system goes beyond _just_ pale and trifles with the lives of those that *inconvenience* men I've learned we should despise. These men don't walk among us. They don't live like you and me. They do not fly the same blue sky that's free for them, you see. They tally up their ill got gain that's stolen from your children; they're never late to obfuscate enigma that's been building. Thirty Thousand starve a day to lube the lives of these. They are the length and breadth and depth -- the very substance, our disease. Point them out as you can find them, they're the ones you should deplore, and risk the fate of one who asked -- You guessed it! Johnny Ford <g>.

You want to hear some foolishness you're expected to believe? The strangest thing that anyone could think of, or conceive! Bad enough for _one man's_ madness (hot atomic toothpaste!?!) but we're to eat that _three_ conspired; that's madness gone too far, too great!

THREE men were that crazy? Three men saw that way? Three men left their brains at home, then thought they'd get away? Nonsense is my proffer! Nonsense I decry! Three engaged this foolishness? Then pigs and monkeys fly!

I've said it before and I'll say it yet again: the whole of this mess -- incredulity distends! It _looks_ all put up -- elitist skullduggery, the facts of this case are contrived, its check's rubbery! It's a dog that won't hunt! It's a brick shy a load. It’s a mire of "old boys" and political toads! Who are these doctors who claimed him unfit? Where is their consult, did they make it up quick? Let's ALL hear the TAPE of their *STING* operation. Let's ALL hear John laugh at the show they were taping!

John -- keep your head as you value your soul. You'll soon be released from their cruel, unjust hole. You'll once again walk on your canvass of streets (!), stitching tattered evidence into cloth from their deceit? You'll campaign, the truest warrior, to banish your night once again my good friend; it's your honor -- your right!


Shit -- we celebrate Miguel de Cervantes. John Ford, you are a grand bastard!

I would prefer to believe that these machines of county government always act in ethical, inclusive, and even handed ways -- but too often they do not. Many individuals have been ground up in the gears of these cruel mechanizations to fuel short term goals that readily detract from the ethical behavior of all concerned.

But who does what to whom, first?

We've all heard the stories of cold fusion, zero point energy capture -- even Newman engines. We hear rumors of miraculous cures from endangered plants, or simple paints that stop _all_ electromagnetic radiation. These enigmas are never adequately discredited, and reappear from time to time with tantalizing and teasing regularity. All of these anomalies we hear about, but never quite realize, share a characteristic, perhaps, that dooms them. They all point back to an actualization of more individual autonomy. Let me say that again; they all point back to an actualization of more individual autonomy. That's the key point.

Individual autonomy is, and always has been, dangerous to the man who must keep you on his meter to keep you in control. An autonomous person is not a controlled person. You say it can't happen in America? I don't think it likely it can happen efficiently anywhere else. Washington, Hamilton, and Jefferson et. al. wrote the rules like that from the very beginning. Take a turn through Jefferson's Federalist Papers #10, if you don't believe me. Find out the _real_ reasons for Shay's Rebellion.

"America has _always_ been about protecting the haves from the have not's," says Dr. Michael Parenti of Harvard University.

John Ford would _have_ what he does not now _have_ -- freedom, a government of fidelity, straight answers ("though heavens fall") to the intriguing questions of our time, and the restoration of his good and honorable name. The 'man' will work hard to keep these things from him, _and_ us.

And any one of our number that points a finger at John Ford in desultory, insulting, and titillating criticism points THREE fingers back at themselves. John's politics, manner, priority, or appearance are not the issue in this matter. His circumstances (he's cleaner than ANY of the Bushes, I'm betting), and extremely _suspect_ incarceration, ARE.

RESTORE John Ford!



Rhyming, still I try, with a finger in the eye of those that I decry without a conscience. I protect myself from them with this meter kept in trim to hide in fact from him t'would put me under.

"He's a *wacko* like John Ford. But he can safely be ignored. A minor poet … aren't you bored -- his constant tapping"? But this tapping I can hear could have you crying in your beer -- and not so far from here; I'm not just rapping.

Is our future writ in stone? Could we go it all alone, and _can_ we all atone our common madness? Think of Aztecs looking east, "a bearded savior? [begin the feast!]", but it's Cortezed Catholic priests that burn our answer.

We hear of Ford the 'Gun Nut', implied he's got a 'wide butt', and how he hangs with scuts, and wacko losers. But he finished up his college, and then he used his newfound knowledge, to rifle in the foliage of the system's hidden sewers! That's what _I_ could plan to do, our constitution through and through -- you would tear that from my view, you scabrous bunky! The stuff that you report wouldn't stand in any court, and though you call yourself a sport you're just a flunky. You write what you think sells, the fairest play can go to hell; you've got yours so *it's* just swell; you're so unharmless. But you're the one to go down first, you're the first to feel the thirst, you're the one to be immersed in sad despair.

Retired from the courts, he was a cop of sorts, republican in quarts, and seeing commies.

Hell, he sounds just like my dad, and it kind of makes me sad, perhaps a trifling mad at the injustice.

It seems they call him crazy 'cause he's not the least bit hazy on the subject of your 'phasing flying saucer'. He thinks that some touch down, he thinks they're under ground, he thinks they're making sounds we should be hearing. Well the Suffolk county boys should gather up their bully toys -- and make a similar noise to label _me_. I hold the same beliefs, and I'm getting no relief, as the 'man' laughs up his sleeve; I would be free.


Think about it! Have the Suffolk county boys established the beginnings of legal precedent for a flying saucer murder defense? Believe in flying saucers, and be unfit to stand trial -- for attempted murder -- later, murder full blown?

Where did he get the radium?

What if John -- "lik[ing] to talk about what he would do to [even imagined enemies?]", and not KNOWING about PLANTED radium in his pickup, was encouraged, by the 'wire', to _fantasize_ about it in the same manner you could with _me_ if you told me _I_ could press a little red button in your outstretched palm and watch Pat Robertson's head explode on network television <even now I scramble for that button in my mind <sardonic grin>>. Or perhaps it is not acceptable for me to make such an expression even when _he_ makes every indication that _I_ should be *dispatched* in an even crueler fashion! That I should die to feed the God of HIS imagination and interpretation … or yours -- even mine, but especially Suffolk county's! That is the REAL madness!

Restore John Ford!


Your silence, as always, is ominous and harsh, and perhaps I am uncomfortable on this road that I must march. But the point is lost in dissonance, _John Ford_ is dissed -- forgotten. His plight's ignored, dismissed and damned -- concern is misbegotten. And it really could be one of you, and you'd wish that you were missed. The measure I'm correct is made to match how much you're pissed.

You miss the point forgetting John as easy as you do. Not as pretty as Whit Streiber, lived with Mom, so what's construed? He picked up homeless strays, could shed a tear if they should suffer. We shan't demand John gain surcease from Suffolk county's bluffers?

What is it with Ford the 'whole rest … the world' knows? Does he play with his feces? Does he suck dirty toes? Is it 'cause he's republican (equally odiferous)? It's his guns! Or his friends, or perhaps he's carnivorous! Maybe just unpretty -- an embarrassment to some? You turn your back because he's nerdy, somewhat cluttered and unfun? He wears his cammies like Glen Campbell … had (and used!) decoder rings? He fell at last to keystone cops in the stupidest of stings? It's his tin foil saucer beanie? It's an image thing, you think? Perhaps he's plagued with body odor, and he reeks a stench, or stinks?

… Then it's you not thinking clearly, and it's you won't watch dissolve, the fabric of the tyranny from which you _think_ you are absolved! He's one of us that's gotten nailed for asking bigger questions! A casualty in war for truth, though fought with Law's suggestion! He fought our battle, now lies wounded in a dungeon of his enemy, while we stand by, our eyes askance, pretentious, and unfriendly. What's gravy for the goose (and it's John Ford's goose that's steamed) will be gravy for the gander, and it's THEN I'll hear your scream!


…like outraged, and insulted, newly minted Castrati.

Restore John Ford!


Take a break from John Ford when the wheels are grinding, his memory fading and injustice is blinding? Forget he exists in pursuit of *new* toys, like signs, and Cydonia, or the words of old boys? Ignore his distress, and misplace his woes, forget that he's wearing 'those' *hospital* clothes? Would that I could but before I forget I think of the watchers -- them previously met. _They_ will record, for the future's sad memory, the regret that we'll feel; and they'll make it compulsory.

~~Before the sun rose up this morning -- the first time in many days, the pre dawn air was crystal clear; the kind of sky that pays. I only saw one aircraft, no peculiar points of light, distracted by more thoughts of John -- his god forsaken plight. Dark overhead 'twas moon besotted, it hung there with a leer; gibbous and then mocking of reminded madness -- fear. And I thought of threat that's hanging, like a sword of Damocles, and I know the proudest of us could be brought to fearful knees.

A siren in the distance wasn't shooting harmless blanks. Its piercing wail sought blood in chase -- I shuddered, I'll be frank. With all our systems suspect, (what's in the mainstream news) the cops and courts and black shop sports should give us ALL the blues.

The sun came up at last for me, and I was there to see, a *golden dawn* forgotten by the ones that see it free. The simplest thing for granted, a sip of water from the tap … where _you_ control the water flow -- or smell a puppy on your lap. To walk outside in _your_ back yard (they'd have to take it _from_ you) to hear the trees, the frozen ground -- see squirrels run around you. A cloudless sky, your vision flies … off _in_ the grand forever, and you think it's right that this not stop -- that nothing hurts you -- never! The cold air nips your nose, your breath is frozen misted smoke, a chuckle made remembering something clever, or a joke. Something to feel good about -- "No worries!", aussies say! A promise in infinity to begin again, exciting days. Feeling good with honor is that heaven here on Earth that we scrabble and compete for from every squalid human birth.

All John has is the honor, as I'm sure he feels like shit. I would be _beyond_ depression in their *disinfected* pit. The sun not on my face, drugs and orders from nurse Ratched; I think I really would go nuts; and then I _know_ I'd *really* catch it … .

I hope I'm spared attention from the psychopathic lord that engineered a prison for the gad fly Johnny Ford. Because *noticed* by this psychopath, and plagued with his devises, you'd let me rot his unjust clutches, ignore my unfair crisis. I'd speak for you (it doesn't matter!), but you wouldn't lift a finger; you'd let me go to sad confinement; you'd let me suffer as I lingered.

See, it's not completely altruistic. You even do it for yourself. I'd want someone to speak for me as I languish on your shelf . So I'll bleed a bit for Johnny, cause I'd want it done for me. He that stopped a *bullet* so's to drop his scales and _see_.


This is the last of this series -- until we hear something new; but every apology will end with a reminder until John Ford IS restored.

If you told me a year ago that I would be stridently defending one conservative republican, and _thinking_ about throwing support to another ( Ms. Barwood), I would almost certainly have been piqued, and irritated. So you see, anything CAN happen <g>.

Some of you have told me that I detract from myself with this series. Christ on crutches people, how could you so completely miss the point? This is not about me; that I cheapen myself, indicate a similar madness, or even supply the reader a reason not to read -- is simply not the issue. This is not about me being read, or taken seriously. This is not about me one whit or particle. This is about you -- you the individual. This is about _your_ freedom to think, learn, and love in a universe that _you_ take responsibility for. This is about _your_ personal efficacy and _your_ freedom to belong, constructively achieve, and ethically influence a REAL world you build out of the chaos around you. This is about _your_ freedom to demand that the greatest are held to the same standards of accountability that _you_ are. This is about a level playing field where everyone pays their fair share in a search to discover that "truth that's out there."

Early this century, Nazi Germany started to round up the trouble makers, it started slow as the Nazis tested the ethical waters. They were emboldened when an ignorant population chose to believe the skillful propaganda, turned their eyes away, and let it slide. As a consequence, the world slid as close to the lip of hell as it probably ever has…

In a growing population there is a diminishing _respect_ to parse out to each bothersome individual. That's the reason nothing is seriously done, for all the terrifying warnings of educated people, about our well recognized overpopulation problem. The man does not want to have to respect the _individual_, the man want to have a choice of individuals, and manipulate those individuals with that choice! Individuals have to be … the *right kind* of individuals …

It's ok to be kooky new age, channeling the spirits of boojum, or whatever blows the individual's spiritual dress up, just as long as you don't ask real questions and then get STRIDENT as hell if you think you're getting "shined on". Did our John Ford test the outer edge of the un-elected Suffolk county envelope? Most likely, yes, and showed us something in the bargain. When you seriously start looking for the *real deal* the 'man' starts bringing out his hammers and his nails. There is no amount of due process, or equality under the law that can save you from those who command the houses where those laws are codified. John Ford became a distraction, a lawfully stinging gad fly in their ointment, and he's being unjustly hammered for it. Lastly, there, but for the grace of God, go _you_.

As post script, to qualify as a TRUE psychopath, one must be, by definition, NOT crazy. Bet you thought it was the inverse …consider the implications of THAT! Who's the psychopath? Look in a mirror.

Restore John Ford.


The summer sees a flurry of an interest in John Ford. Not the kind that matters, mind, nor the kind that changes score. He was hardly even mentioned -- in fact forsaken, and derided; his manner so abrasive (?) that his censure seemed entitled! There was *distance* put around him; you saw people turning backs. You heard a *qualified* support, and vague distortions of the facts. You hear about betrayal when his lawyer left the ship. Where ARE his friends supported quotes that "John's a good guy," Chip <g>?

Ms. Douglas washed her hands (damned spot!) in a fit of wounded pique? Sensation peddling journalists were senseless, dumb, and thick? Accusation _flew_ like rain in lacerating torrents, while John is drugged indifference, without peer review, or warrant. Pitiless he sits alone while we posture and we bicker; our system and our world view is twisted -- getting sicker. Forgotten, _he's_ the victim! His only crime: he's unattractive. He _*knew*_ that they were lying, and it _made_ him maladaptive. But he stayed within the law, I'd bet, the machine went OUT to _get_ him. Entrapment, and a wire man, plus a bogus stash -- forget it! John was doomed, the case contrived, or I'll eat Phil Klass's crow. Lastly -- John's been _driven_ crazy -- if he's sane we'd never know.

It eats at me it _could_ be me; I'd be in John Ford's hell. Or you or he or she, you see, and buying what they sell. Reminded when it's bed time, and told to sweep the floor, and this while stripped of everything you'd made -- it's out the door! Whacked out on medication for a blunted even strain; forgetting to remember what it was you'd said, again. Your thoughts are then discounted, and your points amount to shit. You lose your good ambition, and you wither bit by bit. Your expressions are unvalued by the least that's in your crowd. Bonaparte, and holy Jesus . . . share your cells -- so be not proud. UFO's have flown right down _inside_ your fellow inmates. Some of it perhaps in truth -- but to mainstreams you’re a primate. Beneath its unconcern, contempt, or crass consideration you are neutralized and hull breached -- rescue hopeless, sad ablation.


Like an entropy you can watch happen to you. A slow rot, bad enough when it's justified, intolerable when it is not, and serving the convenient ends of those that ultimately disrespect you. I picture John looking past the bars to the free outside, remembering what it felt like to be in hot pursuit -- on the trail of his investigation -- remembering, with difficulty, what it felt like to be useful. . . or happy.

Oddly, Ms. Douglass was cool on me from the very beginning, dismissing my support with a curt, unfriendly E-mail. Perhaps I failed to meet a standard she has before she is respectfully appreciative of a response to her outcry. I've learned that I should _start_ there . A person must lose _my_ respectful appreciation. "With friends like that," I've said before -- and how _was_ John Ford provided any support with front people so charmless, standoffish, and picky?

I think I could have used me were I the respected, but distant, Ms. Douglass. She could have had a philosophical ally at her back at any rate, but all I got was authoritarian rebuff that lacked all ceremony. I was told to stop what I was doing -- ironically, the same demand John Ford endures.

Now it certainly could be that I'm a lot more unpleasant, intellectually odious, and obnoxious than even John Ford was supposed to be <g>, <I'm thinking, stodgy unbending Republicanism?> -- but I don't believe that completely explains the icy shoulder I got from a member of John Ford's defense team, and lately a rather clear implication that I'm a hothead with a short fuse. What I _am_ is an interested person asking for <demanding> resolution on the issue regarding an alleged criminal mistreatment of John Ford.

From where come the strange convictions that Ford DESERVES to be in an institution for the criminally insane as a clear and present danger to his fellow fat cat Republicans? And from where came the obliging convictions of Ms. Douglass at the genesis of this John Ford affair?


. . . She was passionate about John Ford once, though; she sure rang true with me -- she got me started . . . fired me up! Now -- it's a fire that makes its own oxygen! John Ford's apparent, and very possible unconstitutional abuse fills me with insulted rage, and in as much as this _kind of thing_ goes on all the time, it should you, too! If for no other reason than it could _be_ you, certainly, and much, much easier than you would think!

John Ford was a running (but lawful) embarrassment to Suffolk county, and the Suffolk county political machine took him down for it! If that's true, it can't be allowed! Every suspicion of political behavior like that should be ripped out by the roots everywhere it's found _forgetting_ the very real and personal suffering of John Ford!

Moreover, as I have said before -- the John Ford Affair could be one of those points where everything just _wants_ to fall out in disclosure of its own accord, and should be pursued for _that_ reason. Getting to the bottom of the John Ford Affair could be getting to the bottom of the full ufological monty <g>.

Restore John Ford! Put him back the way he was -- breathing free, financially independent, and so far up the nose of the man, boot heels are felt on non-disclosing chins!

Restore John Ford!



"All things in moderation" covers _even_ moderation! So -- to flip out, now and then, is _best_ allowed. And keep your eyes wide open, friend -- and hear, this time, my soap box 'cause the reasons for it build, and _won't_ be cowed. I'll play the tune I see -- standing fast to watch _you_ flee those drooling jaws that are the fear you've just imagined, but the fear's in _other_ places far _beyond_ your sense's graces, and you run afoul its claws in hapless fashion!!

Remember _one_ that's run afoul -- for fit of wounded pique! Remember John Ford's _silly_ crime that foams, or squirts, and leaks? Remember he's in gulag now for _years_ without a trial? Can't you see him sitting quietly with his face that never smiles? Don't you wonder what the deal was? Its premise badly fashioned . . . the truth, perhaps if known to you -- just _slow_ assassination!!! . . . We'd have an answer, at the last -- we'd be refreshed, refueled and gassed if Johnny Ford's restored, and re-impassioned!

Not mentioned since our summer of abnormal discontent, still, Johnny Ford's committed minus bail. This is _not_ incarceration, it is _likely_ obfuscation, and it's _so_ much more than prison, or a jail. A *threat* to dangerous shadows, he is locked up in their hole; he is incommunicado; he is totally controlled. He is fed his spice-less meals lacking interest or confection, and he's led around in routine's mindless grunge, less expectation. He is made to follow orders from the folks he'd disrespect, but he's drugged to an indifference -- indistinct and he forgets. And I'm sure they've had occasion, and I'll bet it's off the books . . . there've been 'lectrodes on his temples, and they've zapped him -- brain cells cooked! . . .Bet the piss ran down his pants leg, and he fouled his issue shorts. I'll bet he trembled in convulsion, shallow breathing -- gasping snorts. His jaws were sore for days, I'll bet, for clenched electrocution. He wondered what the hell -- he wept -- he wallowed his confusion.

And that was just the _high_ point. It's a pay back, day by day. He challenged *their* authority -- you can bet *they* make him pay. He had the gall to stand up straight, and ask the tougher questions. He questioned the hypocrisy, so he suffers their correction. What he did -- I have _no_ courage. . .and neither, friend, have you. We're paralyzed by Ford's example, as the facts of it are true.

Go too _hard_ against a current even though you have the right -- it won't MATTER it's America if the *man* _abuses_ might. It won't MATTER, then, your facts are straight, you studied hard -- you stayed up late. It matters _not_ your conscience screams for other people's nightmare dreams. It _shall_ not matter ground you hold is higher held, and brave, or bold -- Culture can . . . _will_ grind you down to wilt you brown, and hurt profound. . .

Cool Hand Luke was just a movie, so it's likely John _was_ broken. Beyond repair, he breaths some spit, and coughs -- and I'm not jokin'. It's unlikely we _can_ bring him back; he is likely so far gone. He's in the gut of culture where it grinds you twixt harsh stones. It has swallowed up his message, and it’s neutralized his effort; it has cancelled, at the last, his contribution, mind, and spirit. It has buried very deeply what it truly fears -- his synergy. To serve its ends? The same for you! It's _fearful_ of your energy.

And that's a point! First him, then _you_ -- and finally down to me <g>! And this _despite_ good service, or an honor bright, you see! Expect them to be living with the rules they make for you, and be sadly disappointed, friend, or boiled in their stew! Bottom line? It's double standard. It's a tilted playing field. The rich get rich; the poor get poor; the weakest have no shield. The best lack all conviction, and are neutralized by fear; the worst (?) _intense_ with passion, and they _take_ you from the rear! Get in their way -- you're in the grinder, and you're subject to their sword. _Without_ regard to righteousness . . . brought down like Johnny Ford!


Restore John Ford!



John has _stones_ to beat the drum, his plaintive entrée's weighed in _all_ of your indifference, and all that you shall pay! Your silence costs you _dearly_, and the tally quickly mounts when you _failed_ to be counted, and the terror sneered and pounced!!

He even SPEAKS and is ignored as he cries out, stabbed and gored, for the succor of his fellows -- and I laugh! These the same, assumed NO blame, as Jews and Moslem bore their shame as _victims_ burned to genocidal ash!

He lost it all (they stole it all!) they aced him for a final fall, and likely _lied_ and _cheated_ to that end. Justice may be rancid, Johnny's low on grace and chances, and the vultures circle low and close on in! His house is gone, he stands alone; he's waiting for that first cast stone, the grinning Suffolk shysters bunch their muscles. Jurisprudence and fair play will go to hell and lose their say as it's likely Johnny loses in this tussle.

And YOU! You'll let him slide, and take a ride there's no return from. You'll _let_ him fade away and fall from view. Just _remember_ you said nothing when the storm is _closer_ building, as they set you in their sites and come for you! And rest assured they're coming, friend, your history books are filled! You're helping with his burning, while it's you who's being grilled! The tears will fall from sorry eyes, and stars blink out in darkened skies as justice is perverted for their way. You _could_ have made the difference, kid! You could have mattered -- made your bid, but chose to give him up, and glance away.

And WHY when it's so obvious this trumped up piece of foolishness contrives to bring the LAWFUL to their heel! Why, when it is ludicrous! Impossible!! Incredulous!!! You know that Suffolk county _must_ conspire to cheat and steal! You _know_ the charge is bogus; you can sense that it shan't float! Their case won't float a paperclip! HE WAS SET UP! It's a joke! A joke except that John awaits the pleasure of the beast! And where is his protector? Where's his fan club, at the least! Johnny Ford was only lawful when he _pissed_ the man's post toasties . . . it's just not fair he end up spitted, slowly turning -- roasted.

You gonna let them do it? I'll shame you if I can! I'll slap you with a brick bat -- I'll rip your lips off, Stan! I'll fester in your kill file. I'll rot your disk with shame. I'll teach you your complicity! I'll wrap you in your blame! I'll show _you_ sullen disrespect! I'll chasten _you_ with spite! I'll use a verbal onslaught. I'll _show_ you it's not right!



I'm gonna give a hundred bucks -- money _I_ could use, but shucks, at least I counted -- I shall dream when bully boys around ME team. I tried to stop them, I'll think back (the bullies circle, slack jaws slack) -- I gave a hand to Johnny _Ford_ when storms colluded like dark lords to sully what we all hold dear -- some _truth_ that we might wrest from fear!



So you consider what I've said -- remember that you earned it, Fred! Johnny Ford has my regard! He stood up _tall_ -- asked questions, Pard! He got so far up *noses* they felt knee bones on their septums; they were pissed off homicidal -- took a SWAT team to his residence! They've amassed the mighty energies of the craven Suffolk BEAST. Let's send the honest dollar -- GIVE JOHN A _CHANCE_ AT LEAST!!!


I am shocked, appalled, and disgusted at the silence and indifference of the ufological community regarding the plight of John Ford.

OK, you don't agree, you thought he was a crackpot, or you nurse some pathetic high school thing regarding his appearance, demeanor, or politics -- these _distract_ from the issue!

The issue? That in a LAWFUL pursuit of goals we all pay lip service to, John Ford has fallen afoul of an obfuscating and prevaricating machine perhaps near the root of a teasing, ubiquitous, and _obvious_ conspiracy! John Ford is unfairly wiped out -- stripped of any armor, and at the mercy of that which has worked _passionately_ to amass a _steaming pile_ of patently ridiculous and specious *proofs* to the affect that John Ford is capable of serial murder!

Stuff and nonsense!

As soon as Elaine M. Douglass sends a clean address (via this list) where the donations can go, my Hundred Bucks are _off_! I so pledge! The check will be made out to John Ford, and I don't CARE how he spends the money. Hookers and cheeseburgers would be FINE! You send something, too!

As you value your _own_ hide, _you_ send something too!



Hear again, I make some toasts to he who waits or rots and roasts. One we've left to willful predators . . . lawyers, doctors -- bad faith creditors. Those that smile and take your home; those that label -- shove you prone. Those that, even, drive you crazy, terrify, and scare you lazy. Masters of their obfuscation, lying with foul osculation, the darkest of the glad dark lords -- those that torment Johnny Ford!

They say that he's a _monster_, like some uni-bomber *fiend*. They paint him psychopathic like a twisted, shadowed dream. They make him out a killer (likely _them_ with bloody hands), and they keep John in the lockup as if HE'S the guilty man. They say that John's a terror that's been brought to lawful heel. They say (and do) a lot of things -- like lie and cheat or steal.

John is real, and a metaphor laid out low and on the floor, awash in water to his nose -- stripped of all but prison clothes. He'll lay awake for hearing screams of those relieved of cherished dreams. His own desires muted -- dulled, wishes washed away. . . annulled. Honored goals concede potential, give up on supposed credentials; very lost and all alone -- he stays awake . . . his cell mate groans.

Perhaps the inmates slap him down and treat him like a snitch. Perhaps a few go all the way, and use him like their bitch! Perhaps his life's in danger from assassins in the shadows -- John Ford must live a hell on earth, you're thinking, but you _shan't_ know. Unless, of course, _YOU_ fall afoul to ask the 'man' a question, and the answers inconvenient so he persecutes suggestion! Then it's YOU would wear John Ford's sad shoes, and walk his tortured mile. Then it's _You_ that shall not matter, without substance, worth, or style. Then it's _you_ the one forgotten, or betrayed and misbegotten -- held apart to suffer like a chain gang picking cotton!

A toast to hapless innocence . . . A toast to those who fall! A toast to Ford and others who are WRONGED by those who stall. I toast the persecuted. I toast them one and all -- the one's who have the strength to spit, brought to their knees . . . acrawl. I toast this brave man Johnny Ford, I curse again the dark realm lords. I toast the light his trial brings, and toast he _wins_ -- evades their sting.

I toast with ardent fervor, as John slips beneath their waves, that his plight is heard by those who have the _power_ -- hear my rave! I toast the few supporting him; I toast that there'll be more! I toast that Johnny Ford will stride triumphant <I implore>! I toast to lost indifference; I toast the truth be told; I toast a trial revealing the injustice _we_ control. I toast the dissolution of corrupt machines and boards; I toast a grand new future that would see John Ford restored!


I am still waiting, Ms. Douglass, for advice on where to send John my hard earned bucks <g>. When that information comes -- fellow motes (!), SEND WHAT YOU CAN (try to get a few more to go along with you!) -- You can even imagine you're sending the money to save _yourself_ . . . you are -- in _FACT_, you are.

Restore John Ford!



Johnny Ford -- still locked away? Still _wrenched_ from freedom's dawn, you say. Still eating tasteless gruel he's served with hapless ladles crusted, lurid. Bullied by a cell block thug he's driven down with slaps and slugs. Remember he's a _cop_ to them, a target for the fix they're in. Sleeping on his fetid mattress, he lays awake and hears the madness; bad enough if he deserved it -- unbearable, he didn't earn it. Crimped and weak his fingers curl around the bars that cage this hero -- damn that sullen, unjust steel that takes him from the free and real.

What's he doing, how's he hanging (?), listening to that cup that's banging in a distance he can't get to -- he's restricted, tied -- denied you. You won't hear what he might say that questions ways you've learned to pray. You got tired, and with _no_ emotion (based it on a foolish notion) locked a *saint* inside thick walls while mayhem, _outside_, howls and crawls! Still and all, and not a _peep_ of John Ford's status -- what _vast_ conceit! You think that it's forgotten, lost, that he has yet to bear the cost of what it was that he got close to -- fanning flames that shame and roast you? You think that it is unremembered, you called him *crazy*, then _reconsidered_? He's well enough for trial, you say? Well -- *when's* he going to have his day? And there's the rub, you covert bastard. You won't hear his harmful answer! His trial might embarrass you, and worse than that -- might prove you're _through_.

It's gone on now for years and _years_. That gadfly Ford you've tried to steer? Quiet now within his cell, but bet he has a tale to tell. You'd argue that I _feed_ his madness when it's _you_ produced his sadness -- slandered him and took his name; I hope that, soon, _you're_ made to blame. Every _one_ is most surprised that he would try what you've described! All that know him, friend or foe, all know that he was framed as _though_ a mad man walked inside his clothes -- because he _looked_ for UFO's. Your case is _stupid_, uninspired -- a contrivance you have _made_ -- conspired! And getting older by the minute, hard to prove the way you spin it. Maybe, hoping soon he'll die! Maybe help him make his try!?! If he dies in _jail_ friend, I'll know _you_ did it -- don't pretend!!! That he's _there_ is your disgrace; I'll hope to see you take his place among those inmates of contrition -- those _deserving_ their positions.

Months, and we have had no news that's news about John Ford in view. Our reason for our silence glares, and challenges with steady stares reluctance to speak up _one_ word where freedom is, in fact, deferred. But is that freedom you can cherish? So quickly lost, so quick to perish -- evaporating like a _dew_ on desert flowers. Yes, it's true. But you are at, as much, a risk if you speak out, then, sharp and quick, to bellows of these arbitrary -- these tyrannous, or dark contrary. Let them bring just _one_ down low, and they're emboldened -- don't you know? Then it's you they finally get, _your_ freedom is a sucker's bet at the whim of one's convenience to make _you_ live in inconvenience.

You don't get it, that's your error! John is _you_; he lives _your_ terror. _You're_ the one interred alive. You're the one in _jail_, Clyde! It's you that's eating awful food. It's you forsaken, betrayed -- abused! It's you without a _spark_ of hope! It's you that _lives_ this tragic joke! It's you that lives a life despised as harmful vermin -- all contrived! It's you that shuffles for the man from cell to yard, to hall -- all planned. It's you without a moment's peace, it's you that's driven to your knees! It's you that suffers needlessly. It's _you_ in torment -- YOU not free!



Special thanks to T.B. from GA. The fund total now stands at 150 dollars! Such is the _power_ of individual will <total absence of little smiley face>! This cash gift to John Ford is, in the long view, a gift to yourself T.B. . . . a gift to _yourself_. Thanks again!

Restore John!



What's new with John Ford? Is he closer to trial? So, when's he allowed to express his denial? What are his chances; does he pretend (?) that freedom can happen for him, once again? Is he despondent? Is he depressed? What does he miss as his freedom's oppressed?

Is he despairing? Is he tormented -- writhing and chafing his unearned internment? What does he think of while buried in prison? How does he manage this hell of derision? How does he govern the feelings he has for folks that betrayed him, or treated him bad? What are his thoughts on the lack of concern of his own damned community that's shunned him in turn? What are his options? What's his prerogative? His _right_ to a TRIAL is a sad interrogative!

Walking the _streets_ are those far worse than him! Released, and at large, they are MONSTERS, my friend! But John is locked up like a serial fiend, when, in TRUTH, he's done _nothing_ but question and dream! He's scorned for his courage of strident conviction! He's jailed for reasons concocted from fiction! He lives a perdition of slow rot to please all the ones that make out if he's brought to his knees! He lives his debasement to further the ends of the demons that profit from what _they_ pretend. He's tied up and muffled to further the cause of political ambitions that should give us _all_ pause. Forgotten and lonely he sits in his cell, thinking (quite rightly) he's gone straight to hell.

What's the damn hold up? What was his crime? Who was it _injured_ for John doing time? What are the reasons he's suffered these years? Why don't they try him?

Isn't it _queer_?

How do they figure to hold him in jail, or NOT have a trial, and NOT hear his tale? What of John's lawyer? What was his take? How much of John's property paid bills that were faked? _Where_ are John's assets, what of his pension, how long should he suffer the man's foul detention? _Where_ is the justice? _Where's_ the fair play; where has the *fairness* departed I say? Why can't he speak; why can't he talk -- why can't he tell us his crime is a crock? What is so secret they lock him away with the key gone misplaced as is done every day? When will he get all the rights that he *has* for being _American_, I hasten to add!

<recovering from righteous sneer>

I'm thinking of you, John; I'm in my back yard. I'm looking at Venus, and stars that shine, hard. The wind's in my face, but my freedom's a fake; with you in your jail, my freedom's at stake. It's all washed away by the whim of a man who handles our lives with the heaviest hands. Step on his toes in a search for some equity, and suffer the slings and his arrow's inequity. Make a demand for respect you be shown, and be thrown to the foot of the man's jealous throne! Ask for just treatment -- to be kept well informed, and be found _surely_ outcast, shunned, and then scorned!

When is your trial? Shall you be heard? Or will they just mock you, and keep you interred? May you, fates willing, secure a release, and slip from their bonds -- free at last, and at peace.


How much longer, people. Remember -- it's _you_ in there . . . Without a trial? I thought this was America? < sneering out the door . . . >

Restore John Ford!



Has J. D. Ford at last resolved the tribulations Powell evolved? Is the battle over -- lost? Is he bullied, cowed, and bossed? Did three men, in TRUTH, contrive to murder Powell as it's described? _Has_ John pleaded mental health, admitting he, in fact, used stealth to plot a killing with some others he had met -- some stupid brothers? Did he get the isotope and try to kill (like one fine dope!) with cancer as a murder weapon? Can he be that daft? It happens. Suffolk county says he's guilty, forgetting _Suffolk_ may be filthy -- lost in their own wicked schemes beyond the scope of John Ford's dreams.

John is ONE against the many. People, quick, condemned him plenty. To this day he's ridiculed as a futile, phony fool! Short and portly, described as Fudd-like, he's disgraced because he looked like every fat kid *earning* torment in this world that LOVES conformists. He was strident, and litigious -- in your face . . . perhaps obnoxious. He could _make_ an enemy, and that's a fact that's plain to see. What he's not, by MOST account, was a danger to himself (you louts!), or any other living thing that slinks or crawls -- SOME human beings!!!

I can't believe these smirking cretins, noses running, dripping -- leaking . . . sneering up their soggy sleeves their judgements (so like farts) they sneeze. Quick to simply go along with ROT that Suffolk County's grown, they'd *wish* away anomaly, so bogus their *reality*. Suffolk county's FAR from righteous! I argue that it's SPITEFUL -- BLIGHTED, _too_ quick down a shady road, and filled with thugs that lurk like toads. His critics, somewhat less than balanced, offer unjust SCORN on balance. They would caper at the fire as they burned him -- sick desire. Taking glee in his misfortune, laughing that he's lost a fortune, they're delighted as they crow their litanies that suck and blow.

What can cause such fulsome hatred? What's he threatened that's so sacred? What worshiped cow will quake in fear as Johnny Ford comes snooping near? Powell's involved in kick back schemes that filled his pocket, so it seems. Perhaps he couldn't bear inspection; perhaps too much foretold detection; perhaps, in FACT, a UFO came down inside that park. Who knows? Who's to say in times like these that wrench us to our bleeding knees, and make us pray in mossy cloisters, sans our sense and smarts, or choices!!!

I would live in belts we'd made of asteroids; we'd work and play. I would have my livelihood depend on drops my pen makes good. I would live a real deal beyond what some will say is *real*, finding all my satisfaction minus harmful, harsh distraction, knowing all the secrets there, and sweeping all the corners bare! I would have the prisons emptied -- promptly filled with cops and preachers. All the cops performing graft, plus those who know it -- ALL the rest! All the preachers saving souls, but lining pockets (don't you know), plus the ones who witnessed this (but dummied up), yes, ON that list! Pardon this hyperbole, poetic license sets me free! Unconfined to raw tradition, I can trace with some precision that which jerks your chain the best. I slap the paint -- it STICKS? You bet!

I don't know if Ford was wronged, but I suspect it clear and strong. I don't know if he is crazy -- some that ARE have INTEREST, plainly. I don't CARE that he was forward, or talked like Daffy Duck -- was awkward. I don't CARE he stepped on toes, or bothered Powell -- was up his nose! I don't CARE that I'M derided for positions I've decided are more moral THAN those held by nymwits (that can go to hell)! Those that wish poor John Ford ill are filled with malice, ire and swill. They can chew the bitter root; their ample asses bear my boot. Shove it where the sun won't see (!), if John Ford lost (?) than we're not free!


Heavy freaking sigh!

Restore John Ford!



Johnny Ford is MUCH maligned, and I cannot (how?) seem to find a shred of info on his plight and wonder on his uphill fight. Does *someone* know the current news (?), has strained the "crap" for simple truths. What I *have* is so bizarre! It passed for facts but goes too far! Gaping doubt, indeed, the case -- that he grew UP to know disgrace -- be locked inside some hole afraid, considering his curse they've made. And he was always such a citizen. Politically? Conservatism! He served the bench, an honored officer, where would come his new philosopher *DOING* crimes he would have SEEN must fail and become obscene. Are you crazy Johnny Ford? Is this all of YOUR discord? Are you guilty as it's *said* -- that you three boneheads went ahead and planned a scheme so damned retarded I'd dismiss and disregard it?

I can't see it; from the FIRST when our Paul Harvey's *data burst* remarked on tooth paste used as poison laced with "hot" stuff (?) -- I was voiceless! Something even then was *said*, and UFO's were raised in dread. Said between his lines, he read, in solemn Harvey tones (well bred), were pointing fingers at the one who'd look beneath the rocks for fun. Like it figured, "right as rain", that UFO's had made *insane* some schnook from Suffolk, loser-boy -- who planned to kill for thrills and joy.

Time went on and I heard more, and found I couldn't SHUT this door! Folks that knew him knew a man that, kind and gentle, took *some* stand. He had time and inclination, knew the law and loved his nation. NOT a nut -- enthusiastic! Focused, aimed and democratic. Organized (if quite Republican), he thought he saw what was insulting him, so spit the bit betwixt his teeth and hotly chased what he thought teased: proof of some acute conspiracy, evidence of graft and tyranny, and rank illegal wounding secrecy, criminal beyond ALL decency. He would pay for his impertinence, dearly -- linked with flying saucers queerly, set-up like a fattened lamb for those with scruples black and damned.

On a search for more on John, it's precious little I have found, and there is ever NAUGHT to say on present status, day to day. News (we all get) won't be found -- it's up to ME to snoop around (AND be set up <<like he WAS?>> for heinous crimes that flash and buzz? I'm a teacher, and risk my stand -- be false accused like any man. At the whim of my society, that could reach out undeniably -- snatch me from my useful spot . . . and crush me like a rag of snot.

Quite a spot to put me in, sensing something wrong that's been (?) -- poking MY nose into spots that garnered Ford HIS cooking pot? And I RESENT that imposition I would earn with my decision I'm compelled to make FOR John (betrayed, accused, and woebegone), and must (then) make some kind of ~*noise*~ to keep from shame *they* must enjoy.

Bears and eagles feast on *fish* that swim the waters of THIS ditch! John is ALL alone it seems, without a lawyer, friend -- in need. Most peculiar, with a look, one can see the holes and hooks that festoon all the evil plans that drip from Suffolk's monstrous hands. The county's dirty, it's no secret, it's ground up more than John -- believe it! Yes, fighting city hall's a bitch, and never goes without a hitch, but these are *warlords* doing WHAT they've done for EONS! It must stop! John is caught in a machine, and DRIVEN crazy it would seem . . . there before God's grace, go you. Take a breath -- feel truth!

I hope Joe Firmage stays alert to *ways* and *means* that maim and hurt. I Hope he's got some kind of hand, and folks he trusts to help him plan. I can see him picked like fruit; one more down who'd know the truth -- found at last to be incompetent, belief in UFO's respondent. What of HIS temerity -- to spend his cash so he might see! He surely does what I'd have done, but I'm without his lawyer's guns, so must content my fevered brow to write these missives then and now. But I digress and must get cracking, as common sense with John is lacking, and likely, IS it, he was rooked -- so, sure, deserves another look.


This kind of thing has happened too often in the past to allow now. Verily, it CREATES it's opposite, all that a rabid CSICOPian would decry. This is where a notion for *grand conspiracy* comes from, forgetting for a moment that the evidences of these conspiracies unravel around us as we speak (or what was that latest breaking bit of news on the FBI/JFK connection, again?).

Restore John Ford! Now!

RESTORE JOHN FORD - ...first him, then me, and finally you...?

JOHN FORD Background - as balanced as it ever got... which was not very...

Selected Coverage on the John Ford Affair - Only the credulous believe him to be guilty!

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