Saturday, April 5, 2014


What if Fuddy’s Death Was A Homicide?

What if Ann Dunham got pregnant by an African student at age 17 and couldn’t have an abortion since they weren’t legal?

What if she sought to have her eventual baby adopted through the Salvation Army but there were no takers on the island of Hawaii?

What is she had to then return to her hometown of Seattle to seek an adoptive couple there, and yet there also were no middle-class, middle-aged childless African American couples who wanted a mulatto baby?

What if she resorted to contacting the adoption agency across the border in Vancouver and they found her a couple? What if she traveled there, delivered the baby that was not white like they were expecting, and so she was stuck with the little ball-&-chain?

What if she returned quickly to Hawaii without any birth certificate but was then unable to procure one from the Dept. of Health because she could prove a claimed home-birth?

What if her child never had a birth certificate from anywhere to show what his nationality was?

What if he had to rely on a passport from the nation of his future adoptive father for his identification?

What if he ascended through the ranks of social standing and politics and was even elected President of the United States?

What if as President he could not show a birth certificate (that he never had) to prove he was born in America and thus satisfy the misconception that mere native-birth makes anyone eligible to be President?

What if he arranged with his best bud the governor for someone to be appointed to the directorship of the Hawaiian Dept. of Health, someone pliable, and persuadable, -a team player, someone single and alone and was not the man who had just been appointed only three weeks earlier but who then mysteriously “retired” to his own surprise and befuddlement?

What if that person (Loretta Fuddy) felt connected to Obama as her President and champion of her party and fellow Hawaiian, as well as through his mother being a member of the same obscure cult that she was a leader of?

What if that new director facilitated access to the digital records of the department for someone to fabricate the birth certificate that had been denied his mother some four and a half decades earlier?

What if her finances were discovered to be unexplainably inflated with about $50-70,000 and that fact was entered in an affidavit submitted to a federal court, and which now is before the Supreme Court, and calls for a Grand Jury investigation that would compel testimony revealing her participation in the greatest case of fraud the world has ever known?

What if within weeks of the filing of that court petition her heart inexplicably stopped beating at the young age of only 65?

What if the coroner’s autopsy report was heavily blacked out in major sections and never reported by the coroner but by a mere public release of the Police Dept containing multiple falsehoods and elements of a death-rationalizing psychological analysis that would never be found in any autopsy ever conducted?

What if no one in the media reported on the situation, as if the Malaysian airplane had vanished and no one reported on that? Would something seem not right? Would something seem underhanded and deliberately and guiltily secretive? Would the reasons for such secretiveness be anything other than to hide criminality?

What if the agents behind her sudden death made insinuations about the health of the police and their families and convinced them if they knew what was good for them, they would go alone and thus get along?

What if tomorrow I were to wake up dead? Would there be no more connection to any of this than there is to any of the supposes that are actually all facts? I’ll let you decide. Murder? Conspiracy? Cover-up? Suppression of the truth? Answers are seen in the unavailability of the autopsy of a public official and the fantastic claims that were said to be found in an autopsy that the Medical Examiner would have never written.

They are also seen in the total silence as to the cause of the engine stall. What made that muffled bang just before the engine suddenly died outright? A bullet? A bomb? It sure wasn’t a bribe but one or more were probably made to keep anything from ever seeing the light of day.

Now I can slink off into the forest and forget about trying to awaken the drunk that is the American media and public, after all, why would anyone care about a few unanswered questions anyway?

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