Guy Banister is claimed by another researcher, as I previously mentioned, to have been undercover for Division Five of the FBI at the time he ran the detective agency in New Orleans. As Turner goes on to note, 531 Lafayette and 544 Camp are two entrances to the same building. Located next to Waterbury's Drugs, at the corner of Camp and Canal, it stands at the other end of a very short block at Camp and Lafayette.
As for David Ferrie who, according to Jerry Brooks, frequented Banister's office, I met him very briefly and casually once at a party and, as I've mentioned already, I met Guy Banister one evening in the Bourbon House.
What of Maurice Brooks Gatlin, though? Notice that Jerry Brooks claimed this man trusted him and also seemed unaware of his death four years earlier in Panama. Going with my assumption that Jerry Milton Brooks could have been Slim Brooks, and with my further assumption would be that Gary Kirstein, Slim's alleged Brother-in-law, was actually E. Howard Hunt using another man's name, a fascinating hypothesis suggests itself.
According to Torrbit's thesis, the CIA's Double-Check Corporation of Miami was on loan to Division Five for anti-Castro activities, and both were involved in the Cuban Revolutionary Council headquartered in Banister's office. In that case, Banister almost certainly would have known and could have been working with E. Howard Hunt.
Suppose that with Brooks, Hunt was using a false identity, that of Maurice Brooks Gatlin. Then it is easy to imagine how Slim could have become involved in the assassination plot. Moreover, Slim continued to meet with Brother-in-law in the years that followed, which would explain why Jerry Milton Brooks seemed unaware of the death of Gatlin.
Either the real Gatlin, whose name Hunt was using, or another individual on assignment with the Gatlin ID, could have been murdered in Panama shortly after the John Kennedy murder in order to dispose of an identity Hunt no longer needed.
Banister is dead. Ward, whoever he was, is dead. And Maurice Gatlin is dead or never existed and is presumed dead. E. Howard Hunt's tracks are covered perfectly. There is almost no way to connect him with the crime of Kennedy's assassination.
As for the real Gary Kirstein, Tom Lutz of The National Tattler discovered his name connected with the Minutemen. Phillip Emmons Isaac Bonewits, a Berkeley occultist, wrote me that he found it repeatedly in his investigations of "snuff films" and other illegal Satanist activities.
Could Gary Kirstein have been someone Hunt was attempting to set up in advance for the crime of murdering John Kennedy? Obviously, this theory makes a number of assumptions that are possibly unwarranted.
But then again, multiple levels of cover are standard for intelligence agents, and Brother-in-law warned me that the simplest solution was not always the correct one.
Appendix: Diced
Kerry Thornley sent many thousands of pages of letters to OVO. The following essays are from that collection. Consider this appendix to be partially a dialog between Kerry and the conspiracy that controlled his life, partially a satire of what paranoid people sound like. - Editor
I
Certain translations of the Upanishads tell us that when the Rishis of old lost an argument their heads fell off. This meant to say they bowed and their heads touched (fell to) the ground. English-language occultism is full of similar errors everywhere you look. That is why Eris Discordia gave Joshua Norton a Chaosopher's Stone, instead of an ordinary confusing old apple like she gave all the rest.
Now had Norton shirked his responsibility to use this hidden knowledge (however accidentally it was hidden) honestly, they probably would've issued a postage stamp with his likeness by this time. (As it is, King Kong even beat him to the cover of Time). This is in spite of his taking what was later to become Drew Pearson's advice about making people laugh if you didn't want them to kill you for telling them the truth.
Gentlemen, I ask you: if as much is true of Norton what will they forget to say about me? (Actually, I'm past registration age and honorably discharged with an unearned Good Conduct Medal from the Marines, so I don't worry about it.) Besides that, this notebook must go through the US Postal Service before it reaches the Selective Service Board anyway, and I'd be bored anyway myself. As I can tell you from personal experience, quite literally, making history isn't always all that exciting, eh? In any case, both Honorably Discharged and not having calculated my earnings yet for this year, I'm sending this message to you instead of the IRS.
Cool Hand Luke was first mentioned in a letter from Robert Anton Wilson in connection with what he and Grace always called Tampax, Florida, in keeping with Drew Pearson's advice. (Just after I went to see Robert about getting the assassinations investigated, speaking of Pearsons, Eve decided she needed a deadbolt to keep burglars out of her house.)
The reason I'm writing you is that, although this may make me sound like a nut, flying saucers keep messing up my sex life, not to mention my probe of the JFK murder. Could you please draft someone to solve this problem?
It is a national problem. According to the intelligence community scuttlebutt my sex life is more a national problem than the JFK murder, as a matter of fact. This all began, if I'm to believe what is just weird enough to be true, when I was going with a woman in Yokohama named Peggy-san, who was allegedly an agent for Jesuits at Sophia University in Tokyo.
Although I enlisted voluntarily in the Marines it was to avoid being drafted into the Army, and it wouldn't do any good to write the CIA, either, since they must surely already know about it. (When I approached the FBI in Tampa, Florida, in 1981 with the original draft of my confession to the JFK murder they advise me that they weren't authorized to accept my personal property, the scrupulous bastards.) I've gone through various channels. I guess they all figure this is what I deserve for telling the Warren Commission Oswald was a loner and a paranoid.
There is also a Colin Wilson novel called Station K.
Don't get me wrong. I think conscription is slavery. Since this information is already known to the public, I figure there is no harm in alerting you gentlemen, although I have it on credible authority that the Joint Chiefs of Staff were also involved, save the Commandant of the Marines, in John Kennedy's murder. The old Smedley Butler Tradition, I guess.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I met a man in a bar in Tujunga, just before the last Pope was summoned into the beyond, who assured me he was the Original Cool Hand Luke. He was the last person ever so foolish to discuss with me in plain language (more or less) this problem about the flying saucers that are communicating with U.S. Navy or Coast Guard ships off the beaches of Florida (although at that time the problem was in California, since that's where I was residing). I'll spare you my theories about cattle mutilation, although I'm sure Mildred Loomis of Deep Run Farm in York, Pennsylvania, will be all too happy to talk about it with anyone, in case you are interested. Me, I was just trying to figure out how to get her into bed with me the night I was there so I didn't pay that much attention.
In other words, though, obviously the assassins premeditated a vast number of contingency programs, UFOs are almost the least of my problems.
You gentlemen are hired by the government to enslave people in order to preserve liberty, so I figure your minds must be adept at coping with convolutions in logic.
Me, I'm a simple soul. I've never been very Jesuitical or Machiavellian. Oswald was not the only person who committed spelling errors, which, for some reason, I think of: The Warren Commission accused him of acquiring "fictitious" identities. (Had Hugh Hefner been allowed to proofread that material such an embarrassment never would've occurred.)