|| hacked by black.cap
As you can see from the above message left by the individual(s) someone has hacked my
About Author page. (Late August, 2012)
I doubt it was Black Capped Iranians but, rather, another group who would like me to hold a
grudge against Iranians, instead. Who? Israel? Our government? I don't know.
I will re type About Author page soon.
This marks the second time it has been deleted (hacked).
I will leave that message up to emphasize the fact that my life is in danger and not just
the integrity of my world changing website. I want you all to know just how powerful some
people know I really am. That the future of our lives and this world hinge on the conse-
quences of this expose. According to Paul McCartney John described his assassination as
"The Event" as if John knew that he would be killed and that that would usher in a new age
of understanding after his real killers were caught and whatever lie told was exposed.
The day of John's murder Paul remarked; "Well, that was John's thing ; "The Event" he called it."
So, this expose must be "The Event" John talked to Paul about before he was killed.
(By the way, my e-mail address is; firstname.lastname@example.org. Please drop a line if you wit-
nessed the black pickup who body slammed my van on I 5 N. near Del Mar, Ca. last Fri, the 28th
of Sept.,2012 at about 8:35 am.
It so happens it was done by a uniformed member of our military and the officers I summoned
seemed to be on the assailants side, putting words in my mouth, while questioning me about him
slamming into my van at 70 mph on the freeway right into my website address leaving about
$1,000. in damages. I was obeying all laws, minding my own business in the center of my lane,
not changing lanes or anything but driving, when he hit me, hard enough to cause an accident.
He had a cell phone in his hand getting out of his undamaged truck and even said his "truck
wasn't even damaged" and mine "only needed the paint rubbed out." when I was calling police.
He may have even tried to flee the scene at one point. He even said, while waiting for the
police;"We can settle this, you and me." His name is Roni Sonza and he was wearing blue camo-
flage military issue and never apologized for his actions, whether accidental or deliberate.
His real last name may be Buenaflor.
Until this matter is promtly settled, and in case it really IS the government behind this
"terror tactic" against my website embalzened van, I will leave the damage intact and add a slogan
to its side; "UNIFORMED MILITARY DID THIS"
This, after my website was hacked last month and after a year of phony tickets to paint me
as reckless so the government can later kill me in traffic and make it look like it was my
fault when it was really the government assasssinating me, instead. Much like they did
when a semi ran Karen Silkwood into a fatal crash for exposing a nuclear plant's toxins.
In June of 2007 I was almost killed when a driver ran a red light and she was never cited. That
intersection was paved over two days later, too. Bush Jr. may have been behind that "accident"
but Obama must be behind all this weird behavior around me over the last year. After all, like
I've said, all along; The military runs the politics and the media. It would seem that the
same military that killed John Lennon over his peace-nic-ism is now trying to kill me before
you all find out what they did to John Lennon. New president...same military.
(You can read more about this in my Footnotes and New Developments page. If the officers
twist their report I will let you know their names, too.)(They have, dramatically, maligned
the facts, either out of favoritism towards the military or an outright government conspiracy.)
It was officer Andrade's absolutely corrupt, misleading, even false report that cinched it,
with me, that all this was PROBABLY planned out, in advance of the "accident", designed to
terrorize me, cost me money and my driving record as the officer is trying to blame me for
the accident, like a movie about corrupt government stalking the messenger, whistleblower.
I have reason to believe, indeed, that the two agencies were working as a team in a government
sting. Sounds paranoid? Not really. Not really, people.
I recall a strange sense of forboding for a week before the attck, as if I could feel the
negative energy plotting against me. I am not often in that state of mind for a week like
that and then I got attacked, twice, now with the false police report designed to victimize me.
There's little chance that Andrade would, not only twist the report to further victimize me,
but would also display this deceitful behavior during the actual roadside interview when he
tried to put words in my mouth I didn't say. Now this whole thing stinks of the cowardly
U.S. government vs. the hero they are afraid of, me, who can bring their corrupt house
down for America's good, and all with one expose. I hope the rest of the watching world can
be a witness to this police state terrorism that is being levied against me for excercising
my right to live under the truth and not under a hideous lie. I hope you all can see what
fools America's people are, for sitting on their timid hands all this time, for licking
the government's evil boot and resolve you all do a better job of keeping me alive if
they lack the backbone.
So what DO you say, my fellow Americans... brave and free or phony and scared?
But other than that, who is Steve Lightfoot? Who is this guy claiming to have evidence that
proves, not only that our government assasssinated John Lennon, not only that Richard Nixon
and Ronald Reagan are to blame, but that horror writer; Stephen King, actually pulled the
trigger and that Mark David Chapman is but an actor/ look-alike/stand in who is merely
misleading us off of the truth? Who is Steve Lightfoot? Who IS this guy that even claims
that Yoko Ono is the governments "Ace in the hole" co-conspirator?
Well, first of all, let me say that I could not imagine such a story if the evidence didn't
actually prove it all. All except the part about Yoko Ono being part of the plot.
(I happen to know Yoko is guilty even without hard evidence based on the time she ordered
her security thugs to kidnap and pistolwhip me unconscious while handcuffed in October of
1987. See my other chapter in Footnotes and New Devpts.; "Yoko's No Good" for the rest of
the eye opening details about her role.)
I could not concoct or conceive of such an outrageous truth if the evidence didn't
actually prove it all. I truly wish it WAS Mark Chapman getting John's last autograph. My
expose would have been embraced decades ago. That it IS Stephen King makes the truth
sound incomprehensible. Nixon was an evil genius, indeed.
The media wants all of you to think of me as a crazy person and has slandered me in a
false light on national television news. I am not a crazy person, though many of you
want to think of me as one, just to wash your hands of your duty to help me come forward.
The media is not your friend. They are the government. All of it, if it's mainstream.
I am "The messenger" society always talks about. I am the real McCoy, the REAL mes-
senger. The most profound messenger of our lifetimes, bar none. What I have to say will
forever change the way we all think, generally, about ourselves and government and, of course,
what we think about John Lennon's political assassination.
Am I a hero to have found the truth and to have disseminated it over all this time and for
not having resorted to a crime, so far, to break the story? I am a hero for sticking my neck
out for all of you and for daring our government to kill me if they don't like it.
Unlike the rest of America I really AM brave.
Other than that I just can't believe how phony and weak all of YOU are NOT to give a God Damn
in the first place. Was I the only one who kept his sanity and didn't get brainwashed?
On one level I am just a normal, moral person doing what should be expected of any one of us
who might just as easily have stumbled onto the evidence and yet, as time rolls on, I under-
stand that I must really be a hero NOT to be a coward in the face of it all like the rest
of all of you, apparently, are.
That I have sacrificed, even martyred, much of my life to break this news speaks of true
heroism and, perhaps, I'm a hero, after all, yet, I think it's as much a case of all of you
being anti-heroes as well. That my story is more about all of YOU and your phoniness and
boot-licking cowardice than it is about me or my find or my heroism. This is about mankind.
It's as if Satan has your collective tongues and has silenced you and you are a victim of
the evil of the ages that has marked mankinds unkind history. That humanity is, itself, evil.
Somehow, I avoided being brainwashed and fooled and victimized like the rest of you.
I never had a tv from 1972 to 1985 and I only listened to music when I listened to radio.
I was not a victim of media mind control like all of you, apparently, were.
I was different in that I wanted to become the worlds best professional golfer and not just
hold down a common job like most of you do. I had dreams of glory, myself, of being
like John Lennon, only in golf spikes, and so, when he was killed, I sat up and took notice.
If I ever DID get my dream of being famous and influential I'D be killed, TOO, just for
wearing a peace sign on my golf visor on national television and participating in politics
as an influential celebrity.
But that personal angle aside, I just knew that the government had killed John Lennon the
moment I heard he had been shot, and I knew that our world had just fallen from grace and
into a new level of low down and miserable and that something had to be done. Anyone who
bought that story about a lone nut, Chapman was, indeed, dense as concrete in light of Nixon's
illegal attempts to deport John in the 70's due to his huge profile and lyrics about peace.
After the Kennedy murders and the similar lone nut theory used then one would have to be
a complete phony to, again, buy that lie.
Prior to my astonishing discovery of government codes about Lennon's murder in the headlines
of Time and Newsweek issues surrounding the crime, including the killer's face and true
identity and alleged name and attached letter linking himself to Reagan, all printed before the
crime, I was just a common, everyday citizen like most of you. I was born March, 01, 1954 in
Helena, Montana and raised in Healdsburg, a small town, in northern California.
I was a doctor's son, the oldest of four children, and did well in school and put myself
through two years of junior college, wanting to be either an advertising idea man or a golf
course architect. Eventually I decided to go for my real dream of becoming a professional golfer
in 1977 and nearly made it to the U.S. Amateur tournement my first try. It was also in 1977
that I met and fell in love with a troubled and traumatized young woman who, emotionally,
up ended my life and made me a less phony and shallow person than I otherwise would have be-
come. I had just gotten over that heartbreak when John Lennon was murdered and I found myself
losing faith with this world and society and I sold my car, stored my belongings, and took
off to San Diego on a 12 speed bike and, basically, just rode around enjoying The Beatles music
on my Sony Walkman for almost a year. It was one of the best and most magical years of my life.
A year and a half after the murder when I noticed that a tiny, back page clipping had
summed up the murder of the century with a one day quip about Chapman pleading guilty, two
days before trial and behind closed doors, I knew that we were being lied to. That was
quite a departure from his 60 day psychiatric evaluation, his plea being over a year too late
to be real. Like a criminal caught in a lie, the media's storyline was changing.
Just a week or two later, following a profound dream about that girl I used to know, I found myself
being directed to my local library by some unseen force, as if history was about to be made
or something. How right that premonition turned out to be. One minute I was hastilly locking
up my bike and the next I was being showered with governmnet codes hidden in the headlines of
Time and Newsweek magazines that surrounded the night of the murder. Codes about John Len-
non's murder, before, during and after the crime, and not just the more obvious intent
of the articles these headlines adorned. I will detail the experience here, later.
This event, that day at the library, is what made me different from the rest of you. It
was there that my life changed and became worthy of the worlds attention. That I had the
common sense to investigate the murky circumstances of that murder doesn't make me a hero,
just a normal human being asking intelligent questions. Having the balls to go public is
what I think makes me a hero.
I didn't know, at the time, that society hates real life heroes and doesn't know what to do
with one when one shows up. Other than sports heroes I can't think of another real life
hero in all the world. Can any of you? Not small time, thrust in the moment of it all
hero, but a hero who changes the world and makes life better for all mankind. Not the kind
the media and Hollywood portray; guns blazing, violent, action variety, make believe heroes,
but a real hero. Ther are none. There is only me and you're all conspiring to murder me
for being one, the truth be known about each of you.
The last hero the world had, John Lennon, you all assassinated. That's right, ALL of you.
Your behavior, your record of turning your backs and tucking your tails whenever the govern-
ment struck down one of our influential heroes gave Nixon and Reagan the green light to
go ahead and, not only kill John Lennon, but to let a little known horror writer at the time,
Stephen King, commit the crime while a King look-alike named Mark Chapman would mislead
all of you with a rehearsed, bald faced lie backed up with wardens, judges, police, media
and other corrupt officials.
It was you collective BEHAVIOR that killed John Lennon. King pulled the trigger, however,
Ever since you called for the release of Barabas and the crucifixion of Jesus you have been
one sick organism, in my opinion. Jesus, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, et al, paid the price of
mankinds boot-licking, cowardly BEHAVIOR.
So, this is a story about all of you. I am just the messenger.
As Stephen King said in his Playboy interview when asked what he'd like written on his tomb-
stone; "'It is the tale, not he who tells it.' Just that and no name."
In fact, I used to be a LOT like all of you as a young man and it took extraordinary events
to arm wrestle me into changing into a more evolved and advanced human being than I was.
I recall the night of the murder how I thought; "Wow! I'm better off than John Lennon."
just like millions of all of you did at the time. It was such a sick thought and emotion that
I, immediately, started to do a little, no, a lot of soul searching.
Had I not been exposed to that young, troubled woman just three years earlier and had my
soul re-arranged by the experience I might have remained too arrogant and too timid to
even try to get to the bottom of John's murder. She told a lot of lies, including her
real name, and I learned about liars and how to spot one quicker than all of you.
I know how fine a line it was that I DID become the worlds most eligible truth finder.
Now, in spite of the acquired bitterness you may detect in my personality since going pub-
lic, I was always the nicest, most pleasant person you'd ever meet. I still am, deep in-
side. But I'd be lying if I didn't let you all know that I have been educated to beware
of all of you and your wickedness, since.
I watched and listened to the students at U.C. Berkeley squeal with jealous glee at my
misery when I announced that my father had just been killed in a suspicious plane crash that
occured on the tenth anniversary of Nixon's resignation and two weeks after a horror
writer sent me a letter warning me of "Phase Three" since I "..won't stop (my) investigation."
I could almost hear all of them collectively screaming: "Goody, goody Mr. Bigshot. That'll
teach you to be better than the rest of us. Ha!, Ha!. They killed your dad!"
So blame your wicked, jealous, boot-licking, cowardly selves that I have a residue of bitter-
ness about me, now. I know how good and evil all of you really are.
Even my family and close friends all scattered from me like exploding grenade fragments once
I became radioactive with the truth.
It's everybody. Beware of yourselves. Unless you all get braver, soon, and help me come forward,
you'll all kill me, too. As if you didn't know.
As for my father's death, that horror writer turned out to be Stephen King (Go see the web-
site reference "King's letters to me" and compare the handwriting.) And, two weeks before
my father was killed, his dog was found hanged in a drapecord, like a mob threat.
If I ever DID have to commit a crime to break my story it would be, technically, legal in
order to prevent any attempt on my life so long as it was confined to that purpose. So
don't rely on your hopes of never having to deal with this issue in your timid lifetimes.
Paul McCartney actually did endorse me, live, at the 1990 Berkeley, California concert April
first, April Fools Day, during the instrumental of Fool On The Hill when he yelled out;
"Yeah, Steeeeeeve! That right! I don't know what YOU think, Berkeley, but I want you to
know that we LIKE it and we need you, as a PEOPLE, to GET to the promised land..."
Then he continued with his song. If I didn't have it on tape I would have missed it.
I met his brother, Michael, a year earlier in San Francisco and asked him to tell Paul
I needed his help. Perhaps if I had actually tried to physically MEET Paul that week and
organized a better way of getting the word out I might have already broken this story
decades ago. I guess I didn't think that I, a simple citizen, would get access to him, then.
Too bad that's all Paul has done for us since. The world is suffering every day it waits.
On the other side, the national tv news portrayed me as a stalker of Stephen King in 1994
in Santa Cruz for holding a huge billboard outside a booksigning event King attended that
read; "STEPHEN KING IS A MURDERER; IT'S TRUE OR HE'D SUE" I was arrested, in hand-
cuffs on national tv, held for two days and released, without charges, after the media had
its way with all of you.
In the mid 80's I managed to get about five people to help me carry signs and protest
after thousands of posters and weeks of furious, hard work. This truth business is not easy.
I really do believe that death is worse than the kind of lives we will all inherit if the
story doesn't break. Be grateful that I have the wisdom and vision and philosophical perspective
to see that, for your sake.
In all this time, the stakes of what lies in store for mankind if this story doesn't break
is what has motivated me more than anything else. Virtual hell on earth. You're already
half cooked in that banal stew, now, and I mourn for you all for being so blind and, dare I say it,
My children don't deserve to be born into a world with people as blind and unkind as all of
you are, now. I can't wait to be part of this story that WILL SAVE YOU. In spite of all
the danger and isolation I cherish this lot of mine as the magnificent lot it is. Perhaps
no one knows what I know about our world and it is quite a high, indeed.
What will my life be like after the story breaks? Pretty wonderful, I'll bet.
I am also motivated by a world I can't even imagine, fully, yet, of what life will be like
after the story breaks, after King is tried and jailed, after Time and Newsweek and U.S.
News magazines find other work and the C.I.A. gets out of our mass media, for a change.
I wonder what life will be like when a common man is heard as loudly as any politician and
that man's opinion takes hold and actual change occurs in our global society. I wonder if
you people will be able to handle the responsibilities that come with keeping your heroes
alive so their message can help you change before they are cut down. I wonder if you
people are strong and good enough to keep the government off my back by displaying your
backbone if they try to harm me. I wonder what kind of better world this expose will usher in.
Meanwhile I don't really mind living in the doghouse of society, with no real possessions, my
eyes on the horizon. It's the lot of the messenger, the pioneer, the adventurer.
Don't pity me as I pity all of you. Pray that you take advantage of my courage and
evidence while it is in front of you. Pity yourselves if you choose to do nothing.
As I write these words north Africa is reacting to our anti-Mohammed video and America is
hanging on by its fingernails, financially and morally. You all have a lot to be wary of.
If you have the guts to stand up for yourselves I'll lead the charge and grab the wheel of
this magnificent revolution that this expose promises. But you must take a stand and help
me jail murderer Stephen King and accomplice Mark Chapman and whoever else can be
"One minute I was locking up my bike and the next minute I was being showered with bold
print codes about Lennon's murder..."
I promised you I'd walk you through that eye opening day at the library that changed my
life and gave America a second chance. I will begin with the beginning, all the way back
to when I first heard The Beatles and all the subtle events that contributed to that
huge find of government codes in magazines.
A week before the Ed Sullivan Show that introduced The Beatles to America my friend from
across the street let us hear them play a song on the radio. Suddenly, just the day be-
fore the show, it was as if every American went from not even knowing about The Beatles to
knowing that they's be on tv tomorrow night. It was a crazy, invisible, universal mass aware-
ness and, suddenly, there they were; hair flying, Ringo strutting his sticks and the
group just blowing minds all across the country. Girls fainted, en mass, in the stands.
The hits just kept on coming, and coming and I remember when I had to stop my bike and
cry when I first heard "If I Fell". It was such a profound, touching song. I knew that
they were something really special and good for our world and our Kennedy assassinated souls.
They lead the whole world, swept up in their musical brilliance, to places we'd never been
There were no shortage of other good bands; The Rolling Stones, The Doors, dozons of very,
very good bands, but The Beatles seemed to defy everything. How could lads so young be as
musically virtuous as they were. Absolutely brilliant with every stroke, strum and beat
of a stick, their music truly unique and unable to pin down. Brand new music for everybody.
With "Nowhere man" John struck out with politics and asked us all to clean up our mirror,
to examine ourselves and our lives. He could be so vulnerable and naked and human, at times
and , yet, be the single most compelling human being on the planet, even ahead of Paul. He
was everyman's friend and hero and the fact that he wasn't perfect didn't slow him down.
By the time Viet Nam and Richard Nixon and the other assasssinations of Robert and Martin
damaged our lives John was right out front being a voice of the people and their frustration.
The Beatles, and especially John Lennon, got Nixon's attention and he ordered the F.B.I to fol-
low him. Soon Yoko Ono, an avante garde artist of sorts, came on the scene swearing she had no
idea who John Lennon and The Beatles were in 1968 when she became a stoic faced, grim fix-
ture in the band and the chemistry started to suffer and, soon, The Beatles broke up.
I had a half Japanese, half anglo girlfriend then, even before Yoko met John, and I was a little
ashamed of everyones instinctive, negative reaction to Yoko. Meanwhile, other rock icons were
dying around Nixon and J.Edgar Hoover, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix and others and the flower
power, peace movement was starting to crumble and right after real hope of people making a
real change felt possible. It was hellish times looking back on those Viet Nam days.
Students were getting shot to death on campuses by our own soldiers and nobody was coming
along to pick up where The Beatles left off. Assassination was ruling the day, suddenly.
Years went on and Yoko got John in trouble with a marijuana roach she left in an ashtray
resulting in seven years of deportation efforts by Nixon to get John out of America.
No apology from her. Under all the stress, in between brilliant gems like Imagine, Love, Oh
My Love, Across the Universe and others, John was keeping a low profile in the basement of
fame while Yoko took over his money affairs and kept him out of sight baking bread. Oh,
yes, she played the supporting wife and soul mate, accompanying John in his "Bed In" for
"Peace" and other bold gestures John was making but wore that bored, distant look, all the
while, perhaps deliberately signaling the public not to care. Looking back she really
seems like the consumate, sociopathic actress stripping us from our hero, then.
Yoko had multiple miscarriages and John had been sidelined for quite some time, in between
public shows of true leadership against the war when he would go front and center to lead
the charge, believing the public would respond and turn everything around.
I recall, before John was driven underground, what a lucky time I lived in that one such as
John was around to stand up to the machine and the bastards of politics, for all of us,
and I relished in watching his influence become a powerful force for change. I was secret-
ly rooting for him from the sidelines to keep stretching the envelope and see what one man
could do in our world.
(to be continued....)