Posts Tagged ‘Saudi Arabia’

The State Department has theorized a mighty fine conspiracy, that Iran is responsible for a half-witted plot to blow-up a Saudi diplomat on American soil. Should Iran be tied to this conspiracy there will be consequences, but please can we get beyond-a-reasonable-doubt proof before we go off to war again? It is my quasi-professional opinion that while the conspirators can certainly be proven guilty of planning to assassinate the Saudi ambassador to the United States, it is their ties to Iran and the Quds Force I do not believe can sustain the burden of proof. Before we begin swarming Tehran with our fleet of killer drones, can we please ensure Iran is guilty of initiating this masterful blunder of a cluster fuck?

Obama, who has amped-up American military involvement across the globe, has largely followed the same policies (advised by the same voices) as the previous administration. Those who remember “Weapons of Mass Destruction” will understand it falls without our capacity to overreach when theorizing conspiracies involving our perceived enemies. Should we not pause long enough to qualify the information we are receiving before our Air Force virtual jockeys grab the joysticks to their respective Predator drones and start lighting up the desert?

If it seems like I, Vic Neverman, am a bit fired up it is because I am…

Last month, Lloyd’s of London had enough proof Saudi Arabia was indirectly responsible for the financing of 9/11 that they took their findings to court to collect on damages for insurance policies they had to pay out. Saudi Royalty promptly settled out of court with Lloyd’s (or in some other way convinced LoL to drop the suit), which means the case and their findings will never see the light of my underground bunker’s fluorescent bulb. But is anyone reporting on the information Lloyd’s learned and then threatened to reveal to the public (via court), thus garnering them their (assumed) payday?

No.

No, instead we’re experiencing the media’s weapon of mass distraction as everyone’s ire is now focused on Iran and this surreal plot of Iranian Special Forces commanding an Iranian-American used car salesman to hire a Mexican drug thug to bomb the Saudi ambassador to the United States. If true, the Iranian plot deserves front page and perhaps a movie deal, but shouldn’t the implications of the Saudis funding al Qaeda get some press time too?

I, Vic Neverman, am not saying this is an American-sponsored plot to recruit unlikely suspects into a scheme designed to fail in order to shift focus away from the Saudi princes and onto a rival of Saudi Arabia, Iran, who we happen to want to drone the hell out of anyway. I am not saying that. All I am asking for is a trial that will prove whether Iran truly is involved before we bomb the shit out of them. Is this too much to ask?

See the following link for good insight into Iran’s Qud Force and the high strangeness of this plot from the magazine Foreign Policy:
http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2011/10/13/worst_plot_ever

You have to admire Iranian business savvy. Iran is attempting to sue Russia into selling them a defensive missile collectors court (case was filed with the International Court of Justice), but legal fees are expensive. With all of the economic sanctions upon Iran, where will they get money to fight the good fight? Where else, but Saudi Arabia?

Why would the Saudis be interested in paying Iran? The same reason they are paying off al Qaeda.

Iran looks towards their Islamic rivals (Sunni Saudis versus the Shiite majority of Iran) and find a great economic opportunity. The Saudis, it seems, will pay for peace on their own dusty shores. This was evidenced in the case recently brought, and subsequently dropped, by the infamous insurer Lloyd’s of London. LoL brought a lawsuit against the Saudi royalty to the tune of $215 million dollars for damages incurred during 9/11.

I will let this sink in…

Lloyd’s of London was suing Saudi princes for 9/11 damages. These royals must have quickly settled as the case was barely filed before LoL dropped the suit a few weeks ago. This conversation turns to what Lloyd’s could prove – that the Saudi princes financed 9/11. The only question is what were the Saudis paying for? Vegas odds say it was a racketeering scam. The Saudis were paying for protection. Saudi royalty was paying al Qaeda to not blow-up Saudi royalty. The Saudis insured their own safety by indirectly financing 9/11.

Which is where the Iranian idea of using extortion to pay their own legal bills came from.

The elite Iranian Quds Force decided to assassinate the Saudi ambassador to the United States. You can even see the hamsters work the wheel in Ahmadinejad’s skull… blow-up this diplomat on American soil and you will scare the golden flakes of shit out of the King of the House of Saud. Bling-bling.

Where Quds Force went wrong was seeking out just the right professional for the job. Remember how I mentioned Iranian business savvy? Well, they did what any international operation in America should do – they outsourced to Mexico. They found the meanest, scariest, Mexican drug lord henchman they could find and offered $1.5 million to kill Adel al-Jubeir, the Saudi diplomat. Fortunately for Adel, the Mexican assassin Quds Force was talking to just happened to work for the DEA. Oops…

So that backfired a bit and now Obama and the United States of Killer Drones has justification to screw the vise even tighter with Iranian sanctions. In fact, this conspiracy plot seems so hare-brained, it almost begets a counter-conspiracy plot. Are the Iranians this clueless, to try to assassinate a Saudi diplomat on American turf via Mexican dynamiter? Or is this plot farfetched because it was scripted by Hollywood to justify the overthrow of Ahmadinejad and the Islamic extremist regime?

I was back in hiding, living in the NeverSister’s attic, much to the delight of the NeverNiece and the chagrin of my government spook of a brother-in-law. It is a long story, this scenario that led me into my paranoia-induced turtle shell and it is a story I shall paraphrase in due time (should my wits ever be swept up and funneled back into the NeverSkull). In short, the coming paraphrased account will likely spend adequate time describing the Jet-Pack Girl, her potential involvement with Saudi royalty and their scheme to unearth the identity of Vic Neverman. All in good time…

For now, you need only know that Vic had sought shelter amongst Floridian suburbia. The NeverSister, having buried her paranoia in a shallow unmarked grave in the back yard, happens to be an active member of society. The government contracted goon she married accompanies her on high-society shindigs, likely to just suck up dirt on his gossiping country-clubish neighbors (any coincidence there is a vacuum cleaner named after J Edgar?). As I temporarily inhabited this extended-family abode, one such event emerged that demanded the attention of these social darlings, yet their was a snag… their daughter was without a watcher. Gracious guest that I, Uncle Vic Neverman, am, I volunteered my surveillance skills in playing overlord to this suddenly bipedal creature of kin.

The brother-in-law thought this a rather poor idea. I inquired him of his reasoning. The NeverSister quickly insisted “because… because, you should come with us.”

Vic with a wide brimmed hat... somewhere off the coast of South America


The NeverSister, bastion for conformity that she is (and I say this endearingly), has always dreamt of having a Brother Vic she could take into public. It is true, I, Vic Neverman, do not get out much. I never ride elevators. I avoid banks and government buildings. I don’t like open spaces. Yes, I am agoraphobic, but only because ignorance is bliss and I am not ignorant to the fact that high above us spy blimps and drones fly around studying our features and using Facebook facial recognition software to look at the picture some random associated “friend” may have posted, comparing these postings with the red-flagged profile held within the fascist No Such Agency mainframe stored abyssally-deep beneath Chesapeake Bay. So I don’t like open spaces. I wear a lot of wide-brimmed hats.

Needless to say, you can see where this story is headed. The NeverSister picked out a suitable outfit and I accompanied the couple to their suburban brouhaha. My sibling, understanding how I might be more comfortable with a cover-story than with presenting my own story, provided me with the material.

“Tonight you are undercover. I want you to investigate the women at this party to see if any of them would sleep with you.”

“Without directly asking them.” Brother-in-Law added.

“Right!” NeverSister agreed. “I need you to be subtle in your mission, yet charming. I will pay you handsomely for any intel you can provide to me about these women and their weaknesses.” It was a ruse, but a well-intended one. Still, I, Vic Neverman, had an ethical dilemma with such a mission. “You’re not paid to have ethics.” NeverSister insisted. “You are paid to gather information.” I asked what my cover-story is. “You are a normal guy who doesn’t say things that make people uncomfortable. Tonight, you are Vic Normalman. Pretend that you want these people to like you so that you can infiltrate their next party by getting an invitation.”

At the party, I followed the NeverSister around like a secret serviceman at Jackie’s elbow on November 23rd. My sister began evasive maneuvers, bobbing and weaving amongst party patrons, leaving me adrift like flotsam amidst a sea of humanity.

“What’s flotsam?” asked a friend of the NeverSister, who I clung to (figuratively) for my dear social life. I explained it was like jetsam, just more likely buoyant. Enlightened, she informed her husband, “We’re all float, Sam.” I didn’t hear his response, but if he asked who Sam was, I would have been pleased.

Ganesha: remover of obstacles, patron of arts and sciences, deva of intellect and wisdom


I sought refuge in the bar area of the expansive house. There was much booze to be consumed, but I brought my own tequila. Call me paranoid, or don’t call me at all, but I don’t take chances with other people working my drinks. As the bar surged with an influx of drinkers, I departed, finding my way to the outdoor patio where people were worshipping a life-sized ice sculpture of an elephant head, complete with tusks. I watched as these cultish figures poured some elixir into the back of the crystal elephant skull, around where the pineal gland would be, and then slurp the beverage as it flowed through the elephantine ice cube and out the phallic trunk. I figured them to be members of some Tantric sect. I slipped away before they noticed my presence and sacrificed me to Ganesh.

I did take the opportunity to network a bit and hand out Vic Neverman business cards. Certain questions came up, such as, “Why would I need a conspiracy theorist?” or “What is a hierophant?” Of course, the simple answer to these inquiries is that if you do not already know, you will likely never need to know. My response was met quizzically and perhaps even with disapproval. “Save the card.” I insisted. “When you need it, you will know.”

As the waves of alcohol rocked my stance amidst the tidal pools of consciousness, I sought out the NeverSister, finding her yawning at the bar. Before I could approach, an unsuspecting frat boy delivered her a simple, perchance imbecilic, greeting. “What?” my sibling inquired of him. He repeated his greeting. She shook her head, “What? You will have to speak louder, this is my deaf ear.” The frat boy yelled louder. She shook again, “I have no idea what you are telling me.” I arrived at my sister’s side. She turned towards me and began performing hand signals. This was not American Sign Language, rather drunken gesturing at best. Fortunately or not, my sister’s courter was none the wiser. I signed back to my sister an equally obscure combination of gestures. She nodded approvingly.

Exposed to Society: Neverman, the NeverSister and her Friends


“What did you tell her?” the wide-eyed frat boy inquired.

“That you were complimentary and liked her shoes.”

“Oh, I didn’t even notice her shoes.” He suddenly looked to the floor. “Yeah, tell her I like her shoes.”

“I already did.” My sister looked at me with alarmed confusion, so I made hand gestures. In response, she dramatically rolled her eyes, Lady MacBeth she is.

“Tell her, tell her…” the fraternity dude stammered, searching for words. “Tell her they match her clothes.”

I performed a quick series of hand slaps. My sister’s eyes widened as I went on before she gave a look of absolute appall. She signed back angrily.

“What did she say?” the poor sap inquired.

“Thank you.”

“Tell her… I think she’s awesome.” He then leaned in closer to her ear, “You’re awesome!”

My sister turned to me, confused. I gave her a couple baseball signs, then made the motioning of a billowing cloud. My sister shook her head.

“No, man…” the dude was frustrated. “I don’t think… You’re not telling her what I am telling you to tell her.” Huh? “Just… tell her exactly what I say. She is awesome.”

I turn to the NeverSister and repeat my mushroom cloud demonstration. She yawned…

“No, man!” the dude cries out before he is graciously removed by his friends and taken to a waiting cab.

A devilish grin upon her face, the NeverSister pranced with complete satisfaction, off to brag to her husband. Deception comes easy to the NeverFamily. Fortunately, some of us use it for good rather than evil. Others do not.

A week has passed since the ten year anniversary of 9/11. I, Vic Neverman, peered out of my bunker and was not frightened by my own shadow. So I return to civilization, storing away my gas mask, iodine tablets, and archives of comic books until the next threat of catastrophe.

I had no reason to think there would be some sort of terrorist attack on 9/11/2011 beyond my own paranoia, but I did believe it was best to be prepared. Since my spook of a brother-in-law wouldn’t allow me to ferret away the rest of my family in to the Neverman bunker, I was forced to forgo returning to my Oregon hiding place in favor of remaining in proximity of the NeverSister, somewhere close enough for me to hack my way through the debris of chaos via machete to reach my family should the worst case scenario play out. Fortunately, my machete currently shines from polish and disuse.

Without any clear threat, I expected anything. Certainly, the theme park mecca of Central Florida was an obvious candidate for attack – even when you discount the presence of “The Holy Land”, something of a biblical playground under the threat of jihadist attack since its very inception. As a current resident in a central Floridian retirement villa that shall go unnamed, the various amusement centers were to be avoided.

And so too airports. I am not referring just to the chance of hijacking, something that is rather unlikely given the Homeland Security lockdown. I recommend staying away from any cluster of airborne vessels just in case there is an EMP detonated high up in our atmosphere. The EMP scenario could be pulled off by setting off a nuclear weapon far above our heads. The fiery blast itself may have no impact on us, but the resulting electromagnetic pulse (EMP) would disable any electrically wired device. Imagine, briefly, Chicago with hundreds of O’Hare and Midway planes overhead and suddenly all engines are cut-off. Okay, now stop imagining as this is damned scary.

At this point, you dear reader, may be rather dismissive and perchance peeved at me, Vic Neverman, for fostering paranoid thoughts about events al Qaeda would never be able to pull off. Certainly Russia and China could detonate an EMP, North Korea might have the range to pull it off over the Northwestern states, and our own government could even do a false flag EMP over Houston and blame a Venezuela/Cuba evil axis in order to justify an “Operation Cock and Bull” invasion of the Caribbean.

That is right – you heard it here first! Vic thinks its only a matter of time before our military industrial complex returns its sights to our side of the world, resurrecting long dead memories of Teddy Roosevelt and his Big Stick policies to undermine the oil rich countries south of here. Why not use a false flag EMP to get things started?

Of course, this is the type of talk one would suspect of a 9/11 Truther. Let me remind you, I do not believe 9/11 was an inside job. I do believe we used 9/11 as an excuse to station our military in central Asia in order to have a spring board to China and the final showdown that will exist there. I do not believe, though, that the USG was instrumental in arranging the attacks on 9/11/2001. I believe 9/11 should be accredited to al Qaeda and their Saudi financiers.

“Saudi financiers!?!?”

Yup. I said it. Allow me to elaborate on the Saudi princes and businesses by first turning to Bosnia. Those that follow Vic Neverman will know I have an intimate connection to the Balkan Wars of the last generation. Given that I am also co-writing a complete authority on the Fourth Crusade, a blundering campaign of Christians murdering Christians which is greatly tied to the ethnic chaos of the modern Balkans, one might even call Vic Neverman an academic expert on the situation. Given these self-imposed credits, let me talk about my briefest foray into Bosnia this last Spring in search of information about the mythical “Golden Chain”.

Stay with me here, folks…

In the Bosnian War, there were many atrocities, but let us focus on the combatants: the militant Eastern Orthodox Serbs and the ethnic majority Muslim Bosnians. In order to protect their religious brethren, jihadists from around the world came to Bosnia, creating a sheer hell of terrorist defenders versus genocidal invaders. Al Qaeda was certainly a prominent player in this Jihad defense. Years after the fighting died down, in 2002, Bosnian police raided a compound in Sarajevo that belonged to a Saudi charitable organization and found what is called “the Golden Chain”, a list of the top 20 financiers of al Qaeda circa 1988. It was basically a “whose who” of Saudi Arabia.

The 9/11 Joint Inquiry into 9/11 produced their findings which included twenty-something pages on the Saudi involvement, but these pages were all censored by the Bush Administration. When Obama took over, he promised a change in policy and said he would release the information about Saudi involvement financing al Qaeda prior to 9/11, yet he has never done so. Without seeing these pages, how do we know what they actually say? Because the Joint Inquiry was headed by my pal and longtime Florida statesman, Bob Graham, who has said as much.

Bob Graham cannot comment on the content of the missing pages, but he does not back down from his belief they should be released and that they do spell out Saudi involvement in the financing of the terrorist organization. At the close of the Inquiry and the start of the 9/11 Commission’s investigation, Graham suggested the new team start where the old team left off – the Saudi influence. Yet this never happened.

Obviously, our government is protecting our Saudi “friends”. But why, when those friends were involved with 9/11? Or perhaps the question is why would the Saudi princes and businessmen want to help al Qaeda when the United States and western demand for oil has made them all ridiculously rich?

Seymour Hersch in The New Yorker and a Vanity Fair article “The Kingdom and the Towers” both suggest the Saudi royalty and businesses have paid enormous sums to al Qaeda and Osama bin Laden as protection money. The Saudi people, a powerless base, are very much in favor of al Qaeda and are very agitated by American influence in the Middle East, which puts the princes and businessmen at constant risk. Unless, of course, they payoff al Qaeda for their cooperation. And in doing so, the Saudi power elite put al Qaeda in a position to stage the 9/11 attacks.

Bob Graham also suggests Saudi Arabia might have their own secret nuclear program. The EMP terrorist attack high above our skies doesn’t seem so far-fetched anymore, does it?

For more Neverman on 9/11 Theories, see the following blog:
https://vicneverman.wordpress.com/2011/07/16/a-neverman-is-born-911-and-the-conspiracy-cluster-re-examined/