And
SYNOPSIS
of Gangster Nation:
Drugs, Murder, 9/11, Terrorism, and Other
CIA Responsibilities
According to another Birth Certificate that could well come
under scrutiny if a political life were chosen, William Charles Hughes was born
on the Fifteenth day of the Ninth month in 1955. Two Catholic grade schools
later, he graduated from Rosary High School, Saint Louis, Missouri in 1973.
Lazy he was in winning speech meet ribbons galore, constructing KRHS, the
school’s radio station, and working on three plays as the sound tech and
actress lust specialist. This would be the first clue regarding “Howard the
Aviator” genes. Hughes also ascended to the Student Council Presidency on a
dare by demolishing the football star candidate. Where the tape of the speech
went is a highly guarded Las Vegas secret.
When Lindenwood College offered a four-year scholarship, he
went there. High school buddies at the aforementioned Catholic institution had
conned Hughes into forming a partnership known as FBC Sound, which provided
sound reinforcement services for rock bands with day jobs and several almost
famous bands of various genres, but the real money was made on Blue~grass
festivals, and yes, we smoked some too. Hughes served as an International House
of Pancakes Cook and “Wheelman” [boss] from 1971-1978 after a distinguished
dishwashing career that found no plate too hot, no pot to burned to scrub
clean.
After college, back when a B.S. led to b.s. at a stock firm,
he worked at Edward D. Jones [now Jones & Co.] until he took a thrill ride
to Chicago on Delta Airlines, did not smoke pot with the mainframe computer
instructor, but Hughes did lust after his girlfriend. Following an extensive
de-icing at O’Hare and a promotion, he was fired over an ancient modem that did
not download 1977 stock trades quickly.
Accounting was the next gig, and rest assured, Hughes does
not speak of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and Monsanto Chemical
Company in the same sentence. Next, it was banking (confused?) at M&I Bank
of Madison and Commercial Marine. Tuition was then paid to the University of
Wisconsin, an institution that kicked Hughes out the door with a near 4.0. This
had nothing to do with Mr. John Hinckley not missing the previous year, but he
was spotted hanging around the Memorial Union.
Hughes puts grub on the table under the most adverse
conditions, like walking to Howard Johnsons to cook Republic, Northwest, and
Ozark Airlines flight crews breakfast when the temperature was minus thirty at
clock-in time. DNS Janitorial led to Hughes learning of bank failures not in
the news through papers left out on the desk at the Federal Deposit Insurance
Corporation (FDIC). Later, it would come to be known as the “Savings & Loan
Scandal.” Though Hughes did in fact swipe a cup of coffee at a First Wisconsin
Bank building legal office, he also sat and lollygagged while reading Barron’s. Thus, contrary to most
intelligence agencies, he was a stern capitalist all along.
New vistas were explored cleaning out some sort of mystery slime
contaminant at Cornell University’s Johnson Museum, and unfazed by the danger,
a black man in the Personnel Department was told, “I need a better job,” hence
drama at the Cornell Campus Store. Much of the Cornell story has been
classified, but suffice it to say when a huge black male hangs around listening
to Prince all day, he may be a “bodyguard.”
Back in St. Louis, Hughes kept the Heileman Brewing Company
in business, and actually shook hands with a not dead Howard Hughes in 1987.
[Fedora and London Fog in a Catholic Mass = giveaway]. Mr. Hughes was later
interviewed by the BBB for ninety minutes, and the AAA for ten minutes. After
several years of telling motorists, “The [towtruck] driver will not come to
your door. You must remain with your vehicle,” Hughes was dosed with an early
variant of methamphetamine and for a brief period looked quite wacky, but
encountered no legal troubles, save an arrest threat over pulling-up a local
politician’s yard sign.
See Mr. Billings’ St.
Louis Magazine article for details on serving as a “secret shopper” for the
Missouri Department of Mental Health, an agency that hired Hughes at a princely
sum of $17, 500 in January of 1992. Al Gore’s ill-advised fad of
“privatization” took Hughes to Barnes Jewish Hospital without leaving his desk
and thereby barely securing a vested pension. One pay cut later, he was back at
a state job with who? Michelle Obama was in the house working with two
redheads, whatever that meant. An inside joke from the late social work
director was, “Bill, what do the psychologists do here?” Mr. Hughes consistent
reply was, “Mary, I don’t know,” but when “L.X.” had both a leaky radiator hose
and “drop-dead legs” on display, it seemed perhaps their other job was supposed
to be secret, but not from The Great Hughes.
Mental Health Coordinator meant they would call on Friday,
when most lazy state workers are “sick” and say, “Joe Blow has threatened the
life of the President of the United States.” Back then {2000-2003], Hughes
would grab a pen, whereas now he finds himself among safely unarmed
malcontents. A layoff by a stinky Republican governor was not avenged, and
amazingly the State of Missouri took Hughes back to shoot baskets with the
worst schizophrenics in Missouri. Face time was logged with assorted hitmen as
well, though Mr. Bland and the Department’s General Counsel would not admit it.
The brilliant mind’s next idea? Run for President of the
United States as a lark; a perfectly reasonable plan that took on an ugly life
of its own and led to six years of psychological and physical torture, here
alleged to be directed by the government Hughes was honestly seeking to lead.
William Charles Hughes now resides in Limerick County
Ireland. He writes books.
Look for Hughes’ forthcoming book on how the United States
Secret Service long functioned as a “secret society” that killed presidents and
candidates not to their liking, and yes, he’s “got the goods on them.”
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