#john marks

[chuckbbirdsjunk]

[cebra-gris]

I have a lot of books to share that I'm behind on, so please allow me to post two almost back-to-back today. I have this one in paperback, published in Spain, and second-hand. Do you remember when I told you about the Valdemar publishing house in its early days? I mentioned that before dedicating itself almost exclusively to horror and fantasy (it's the key publisher for period Gothic novels and those that inspired Lovecraft), they published peculiar books whose copies are now highly sought after by the few who know what they are, such as Parfrey's Apocalypse Culture.

But what is this "Manchurian Candidate" thing? Well, it's a big deal, both in recent US history and in pop culture. A long, impromptu post is coming up, and remember that at the end there's a download link to get the book from the Internet Archive, just so you know…

During the Cold War and economic boom, money was poured into weapons and espionage. Regarding the latter, the CIA had stumbled almost by chance upon LSD-25 from Sandoz Laboratories and began studying its potential applications. They considered the possibility of contaminating the water supply with it to disarm entire populations in case of an invasion of the USSR (it's a hallucinogen), but their experiments required human guinea pigs, so they tested it with the punch in one of their offices. Another possibility was to discover if it would soften the will during interrogations, so they trained prostitutes to obtain sensitive information from their clients. However, since they wanted a controlled environment and to record the experiments, they had to create their own brothel using public funds.

All these unethical investigations were carried out in secret under the codename MK-ULTRA, which might sound familiar because of how it made the leap into pop culture and from there to conspiracy theories. Although my favorite inhumane project is the cyborg cat trained for espionage, others have become famous, like the one the title refers to. Let's see if it rings a bell: diplomats who are spies, but they don't even know it themselves because they've been mentally programmed with hypnotism and/or drugs. This was relegated to the spy movies my father enjoyed, but tracing the trope back to pulp stories from the early 20th century, only the scandal in the USA caused by this investigative journalism book that exposed everything was like throwing gasoline on a fire. So much so that there are hints of this in the fiction that the CCRU includes in its writings in the late 90s, and a decade ago a certain Rafapal became famous in Spain for claiming that David Bowie is an MKULTRA robot.

I've previously discussed pop culture myths and even shared serious, research-based material on conspiracies, but if you want to learn about the real foundations of all this in a book that, I insist, stems from journalistic investigation, THIS ONE by John Marks is the one you should check out because it started it all. You owe it to @spaceintruderdetector and their blog, which gives us such pleasant surprises like this one.

[auroras-blend]

First Day of School

Summary: AU one-shot of what would have happened if the Marks had won the custody battle. Told in Marilyn's POV

Sunlight peeked through the curtains and cast onto an empty bed, unusual since its occupant rarely woke up before then. No, instead little Miss Marilyn Winslow woke up with the birds who were singing joyfully outside and for once, she didn’t hiss at their loudness. Her mood reflected their demeanor as she whistled and sang along with them.

Marilyn clasped the white buckle to her mary-janes, before straightening in front of her mirror. Perfect! Her outfit was the most important thing that morning. It took her mind off of her nerves because she had a very big task in front of her: the first day of school. It was her first, first day of school since her Mama had passed and while the ache was there, she refused to go in sad. I have to make a good impression!

If there was one thing her Mama at least always tried to do, it was to make sure she looked good on the first day of school. Of course on their budget, most of the time it had been from the thrift store but once in first grade, she got a new dress. This year, Mrs. Marks offered to let her pick out her own and buy it new, but Marilyn insisted on going to the thrift store for a new dress or “slightly used” because that’s what she and Mama did. The old lady who ran the shop was happy to see her once again.

Marilyn, in a way to pay tribute to her mother, wore a green gingham dress because the color always looked so wonderful with her eyes. It was slightly tailored to fix a rip, but it was barely noticeable now. Pleased with her outfit, Marilyn fluffed her blonde curls and tightly set a white headband on her head before nodding in satisfaction and left her room. The smell of sweet maple syrup wafted from the kitchen, leading her like a moth to the flame. The minute her heels clicked on the tile, her parents smiled. “Look at you!” Daddy exclaimed, putting down his paper, “Look at how beautiful you are!”

Mrs. Marks smiled, “You’re a dream!”

Her mommy briefly abandoned plating the pancakes in exchange for coming to see her daughter’s first day of school outfit. “Thank you,” Marilyn blushed.

“You’re going to have such a good day, I know it,” Mommy said surely as she kissed Marilyn on the forehead.

It was rough for a long time, it still was, after her Mama died. Marilyn still longed for her real daddy, not that she’d ever tell Mr. Marks that, but the ache in her heart and mind started to dull. The small family sat around their table and said their prayers. “And Lord, please give Marilyn a wonderful first day of school,” Daddy said lastly, “Amen.”

“Amen,” she and Mommy finished before they began eating.

As they had their breakfast, Mommy went over the pick-up and drop-off routine. Marilyn knew it, they had been doing it since she started living with them. “We’ll both take you today, we don’t want to miss your first day,” cooed Mommy, “But Daddy will pick you up and take you with him to the church where you’ll be with me in the daycare for the last hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she said pleasantly, her mouth full of sticky, sweet, fluffy pancakes.

Her nerves were high, wondering if she’d be in the same class as Rodney Lord again or if she’d spend another year friendless, but she always felt that way on the first day. Mama, please help me have a good time. She wiped her stinging nose before anyone could notice, I don’t wanna be the class crier this year. She’d been on a pretty good no crying streak this summer, of course, there were days where she did, but it hadn’t been as often as before.

In all honesty, she would have preferred her summer to last a little longer with the Marks because she had truly been happy. Marilyn felt like she was finally part of a normal family, nourished in warmth and affection that she hadn’t ever received before. And she was so excited to share that when people asked her what she did that summer because she finally had a fun and exciting answer! They had been to the county fair, the fireworks show, went to Baltimore for some conference Mr. Marks had to go to, but it had been a real family vacation!

It had been a relaxing time as she got to know her new parents and their daily routines. She loved waking up early some mornings, yes I know, I liked it and sneaking to sit with her daddy and color as he read through his Bible before helping her Mommy make breakfast. Breakfast used to be a meal she had to forgo, but now every day started at the table. Life was structured and comfortable, and as if to prove it, the clock struck right when she swallowed her last piece of pancake to fill her belly before school.

“Oh, finish your milk, we’ve gotta go!” Mrs. Marks said as she got up, clearing the plates as Mr. Marks went to get their coats, keys, and Marilyn’s backpack.

Cupping her glass with both hands, she guzzled it down as she watched her parents scurry to get ready before she let out a refreshing “ah” and handed it over to Mrs. Marks. “Kay peanut, ready?” Mr. Marks asked as he helped her out of her seat and into her dark green coat and new leather satchel.

That’s right, it’s new! They let her pick out her own backpack that year and she swore to keep it clean and safe at all costs. You’re on a mission, Miss Marilyn! “Hey,” Mr. Marks leaned down, “Still on for ice cream?”

She grinned and nodded, “Uh-huh!”

He gave her an agreeing nod. Mr. Marks said it would be their “thing”, every year at the end of the first day of school and last day of school, they’d get ice cream and talk about her day. They did it the previous year on her last day and it was one of her favorite memories, one that she tucked away and pulled out whenever she was feeling particularly sad. Mr. Marks gently reached for her hand and his wife for the other and walked out to the car together, ready to start her on her next adventure.

The ride was too short and too long all at once. They chatted but when they parked, amid the flurry of walking children and their parents, she frowned. When they noticed she’d become silent, they turned around, “You’re going to have a great day!”

“I-I’m gonna miss you…I don’t want to go,” she said, sounding like a frog was caught in her throat.

“Oh peanut, you’re gonna have so much fun though. You’ll make new friends, have a new teacher, and you’ve been practicing your reading all summer so you’re all caught up!” Mr. Marks reassured her.

“What if people make fun of me?”

“They won’t,” Mrs. Marks said firmly, “And if they do, they’re not worth being around.”

Since the adoption, people had been nicer to her but she was still nervous. “I-I’ve never not had...my Mama,” she said.

It was starting to hurt again. “Your Mama is still here, watching over you. You’ve got me, Daddy, and your mom up in heaven. Three adults who love you, that’s a lot.”

“God too,” Daddy added.

He has to say that. He’s a pastor. With a little more confidence knowing she had more people in her corner, she was able to step out of the car when the pastor opened it for her. Hand in hand, matching all of the other families with their children, they walked her to the front of the third-grade doors. “This is it,” Mrs. Marks said, “You’re going to do so well!”

Her adults kneeled down and gave her a big hug and wet kisses on her cheek, though her Mommy gave her more. “I love you so much,” she whispered into her ear.

“I love you too Mommy,” Marilyn said, hugging her tightly.

“And your other Mama loves you too,” Mrs. Marks added.

“Thank you,” Marilyn whispered.

The fact that Mrs. Marks never tried to bury her Mama’s memory, meant the world to her. After another proper minute, the bell rang and the students congregated to their assigned lines. Marilyn bravely and confidently walked to her own, head held up high. I can do this! Have a growth mindset.

Her head did turn to see her parents waving goodbye to her before she was forced to move forward in line to the doors. When she passed the threshold, she became an official third-grader at Summerfield Elementary. Showtime.

The first few moments were chaotic as her teacher, a woman with dark black hair styled in a flick-up, directed students to put their items away on the coat rack. Marilyn was already in awe, the woman was incredibly beautiful with warm hazel almond-shaped eyes that made her feel comfortable. And the way her teacher was looking at her, she knew she’d already become a favorite of hers. Marilyn gave her a shy smile and wave before turning to find her desk, looking for her name tag: Marilyn Marks.

Part of her was thrilled that her last name was Marks, but she didn't know how to cope with not being Winslow. She already knew it was naughty, but she resolved to lightly trace the name Winslow underneath it later. To honor Mama. “Boys and girls, take your seats!” her teacher instructed, clapping her hands together.

Marilyn slid into the hard wooden seat and squirmed for a bit, before looking around. No Rodney Lord! Yesss! “I like your dress,” whispered a girl next to her.

She had dark red hair tied back into pigtail braids. Marilyn glanced at her name, Sara Barnes. “Thank you, I like your sweater,” she said sweetly as her eyes appreciated the blue cardigan.

“I’m new, wanna play with me at recess?”

Marilyn’s heart uplifted! “Okay!”

A friend! I can go and tell daddy I have a new friend after school! “I’m Sara.”

“I’m Marilyn,” she said as they quickly shook hands.

“Alright, settle down! Give me zero voices in 3,2,1!” her teacher said as a hush fell upon the classroom.

Marilyn’s soft green eyes landed on her beautiful teacher. Her teacher was a glamorous woman who wore a dark blue dress, as sharp as her cheekbones.

“I am so happy to see you all here today!” she cooed, clapping her hands together before picking up a piece of chalk, “I am your new teacher! You may call me...”

She began to spell out the letters: M-i-s-s. Miss. S-a-g-e-s-s-e. Sagesse.

“Miss Sagesse,” she said, making brief direct eye contact with Marilyn, “Welcome to 3rd grade.”

She knew it was too early, but Marilyn allowed herself to smile at the promising start of her first day back at school.

[seanhowe]

Danny Schechter reviews CIA-related books by Victor Marchetti and John Marks, Miles Copeland, John Le Carre, Frederick Forsyth, R. Harris Smith, and Gerard de Villiers University Review, 1974

[unwelcome-ozian]

In a memo to the DCI, the CIA Security Office reports on the “successful” use of ARTICHOKE interrogation methods on “Russian agents suspected of being doubled.” Using the cover of a “psychiatric-medical” evaluation, officials from the Security Office and the CIA Medical Office combined the use of “narcosis” and “hypnosis” to induce regression and, in one case, “a subsequent total amnesia produced by post-hypnotic suggestion.” In the second case, CIA handlers used “heavy dosages of sodium pentothal,” a barbiturate, “coupled with the stimulant Desoxyn,” a methamphetamine, “with outstanding success.” The officers involved believed “that the ARTICHOKE operations were entirely successful” and “that the tests demonstrated conclusively the effectiveness of the combined chemical-hypnotic technique in such cases.”

Source John Marks Collection, Box 6

[lynx90]

💥 Jon Marks 🇺🇲 2.26.24

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🤘💀🤘

[juliannesnow]

A REVIEW FROM MY COMMUTE: Fangland by John Marks | #Vampires #TelevisionJournalism

It was the cover that drew me into this audiobook at first. That and the title. Fangland…

An acclaimed novelist and former 60 Minutes producer grandly reinvents the Dracula epic in the halls of a certain television newsmagazine In the annals of business trips gone horribly wrong, Evangeline Harker’s journey to Romania on behalf of her employer, the popular television newsmagazine The Hour,…

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