Mike Palecek
Terse & funny and dry as a dead Iowa
corn snake baking in the sun.
Palecek delivers a quick, deadpan slap to
reactionary, mindless post-9/11 America.
The sting is delightful.
— Mark Morford, San Francisco Chronicle,
talking about “Iowa Terror”
I’ve read JFK assassination fiction
by Don Delillo and Norman Mailer,
and can tell you that this new novel (Johnny Moon)
not only is Mike’s best book yet,
it’s much better than Delillo’s and Mailer’s efforts
to do justice to the most important event in U.S. history.
— Dr. Kevin Barrett
Mike Palecek writes with passion, wit, and always
with a strong social conscience.
— Howard Zinn
Mike Palecek reminds me of Socrates the gadfly who
asked unwelcome questions, Diogenes with his
lantern looking in vain for an honest man, Chekhov the man
with the hammer challenging the
complacent family to share their meal, Kerouac
the ever on the move,
somewhat hysterical searcher, and he reminds me of many
Americans who as children were so blasted with
propaganda that they’re devoting the rest of
their lives to challenging
the lies and all who tell them.
In this land where babies are brought by storks
and buildings collapse due to unpatriotic bricks,
we need the gadfly
because no leader, preacher, guru,
or saint will wake us up, though
the Doomsday Clock is ticking close to twelve.
— David Ray, American poet
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidences are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Any similarity to actual organizations and persons, living or
deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2025 Mike Palecek
All rights reserved.
Printed in the U.S.A.
Published by 7th Street Press
Some items come under Fair Use: “for purposes such as criticism, news reporting,
teaching.” Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976, allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Educational use tips the balance in favor of fair use.
Assorted portions excerpted from The American Dream, Crusher vs. The Empire, Terror Nation, Looking For Bigfoot
Also from The Commission, Camelot Park, The Resistance, Rebellion, Joe Coffee’s Revolution, The Truth, And I Suppose
Hall of Shame
These are your lone nuts, the wackos, the criminals, the terrorists, the long-haired weirdos in the greasy raincoats in the subway at midnight.
Please come out to your local county fair to see the traveling display, photos, memorabilia of The Bush Administration, Ronald Reagan, The Warren Commission, The 911 Commission, Paul Tibbets, Harry Truman, George Bush Sr., Bill Clinton, Janet Reno, Lon Horiuchi, the FBI sniper who shot and killed Vicki Weaver while she was holding her 10-month-old child behind the door of the family home at Ruby Ridge.
These are your lone nuts, the wackos, the criminals, the terrorists, the long-haired weirdos in the greasy raincoats in the subway at midnight.
America, where we produce monsters who appear as anyone, and yet through their actions and inactions kill the prophets, keep the poor in the gutter, and still continue to live out their lives in peace, in America … and long later, die, on television, with full honors … and still we say nothing about their crimes … but go home after the parade, shaking our heads, at least, finally … rid of them.
Oh, Happy Day!
by Mike Palecek
Eight years old with a flour sack cape
Tied all around his neck
He climbed up on the garage
Figurin’ what the heck
He screwed his courage up so tight
The whole thing came unwound
He got a runnin’ start and bless his heart
He headed for the ground
He’s one of those who knows that life
Is just a leap of faith
Spread your arms and hold your breath
Always trust your cape
— Guy Clark
Prologue
“Tonight I can report to the American people and to the world that the United States has conducted an operation that killed Osama bin Laden, the leader of al-Qaida, and a terrorist who is responsible for the murder of thousands of innocent men, women and children. Today, at my direction, the United States launched a targeted operation against that compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan. A small team of Americans carried out the operation with extraordinary courage and capability. No Americans were harmed. They took care to avoid civilian casualties. After a firefight, they killed Osama bin Laden and took custody of his body.”
— Barack Obama
George W. Bush Address
to a Joint Session of Congress
and the American People
United States Capitol
Washington, D.C.
9:00 P.M. EDT
THE PRESIDENT: Mr. Speaker, Mr. President Pro Tempore, members of Congress, and fellow Americans:
In the normal course of events, Presidents come to this chamber to report on the state of the Union. Tonight, no such report is needed. It has already been delivered by the American people.
We have seen it in the courage of passengers, who rushed terrorists to save others on the ground — passengers like an exceptional man named Todd Beamer. And would you please help me to welcome his wife, Lisa Beamer, here tonight. (Applause.)
We have seen the state of our Union in the endurance of rescuers, working past exhaustion. We have seen the unfurling of flags, the lighting of candles, the giving of blood, the saying of prayers — in English, Hebrew, and Arabic. We have seen the decency of a loving and giving people who have made the grief of strangers their own.
My fellow citizens, for the last nine days, the entire world has seen for itself the state of our Union — and it is strong. (Applause.)
Tonight we are a country awakened to danger and called to defend freedom. Our grief has turned to anger, and anger to resolution. Whether we bring our enemies to justice, or bring justice to our enemies, justice will be done.
(Applause.)
I thank the Congress for its leadership at such an important time. All of America was touched on the evening of the tragedy to see Republicans and Democrats joined together on the steps of this Capitol, singing “God Bless America.” And you did more than sing; you acted, by delivering $40 billion to rebuild our communities and meet the needs of our military.
Speaker Hastert, Minority Leader Gephardt, Majority Leader Daschle and Senator Lott, I thank you for your friendship, for your leadership and for your service to our country. (Applause.)
And on behalf of the American people, I thank the world for its outpouring of support. America will never forget the sounds of our National Anthem playing at Buckingham Palace, on the streets of Paris, and at Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate.
We will not forget South Korean children gathering to pray outside our embassy in Seoul, or the prayers of sympathy offered at a mosque in Cairo. We will not forget moments of silence and days of mourning in Australia and Africa and Latin America.
Nor will we forget the citizens of 80 other nations who died with our own: dozens of Pakistanis; more than 130 Israelis; more than 250 citizens of India; men and women from El Salvador, Iran, Mexico and Japan; and hundreds of British citizens. America has no truer friend than Great Britain. (Applause.) Once again, we are joined together in a great cause — so honored the British Prime Minister has crossed an ocean to show his unity of purpose with America. Thank you for coming, friend. (Applause.)
On September the 11th, enemies of freedom committed an act of war against our country. Americans have known wars — but for the past 136 years, they have been wars on foreign soil, except for one Sunday in 1941. Americans have known the casualties of war — but not at the center of a great city on a peaceful morning. Americans have known surprise attacks — but never before on thousands of civilians. All of this was brought upon us in a single day — and night fell on a different world, a world where freedom itself is under attack.
Americans have many questions tonight. Americans are asking: Who attacked our country? The evidence we have gathered all points to a collection of loosely affiliated terrorist organizations known as al Qaeda. …
“We are benefiting from one thing, and that is the attack on the Twin Towers and Pentagon, and the American struggle in Iraq,” Ma’ariv quoted the former prime minister as saying. He reportedly added that these events “swung American public opinion in our favor.”… Asked tonight what the attack meant for relations between the United States and Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu, the former prime minister, replied, “It’s very good.” Then he edited himself: “Well, not very good, but it will generate immediate sympathy.” He predicted that the attack would “strengthen the bond between our two peoples, because we’ve experienced terror over so many decades, but the United States has now experienced a massive hemorrhaging of terror.”
— Benjamin Netanyahu
We hold these truths to be self-evident, all men and women are created, by the, you know the, you know the thing.
— President Joseph Biden
You know, there’s a uh, during World War II, uh, you know, where Roosevelt came up with a thing, uh, that uh, you know, was totally different than a, than the, the it’s called, he called it the, you know, the World War II, he had the war, the War Production Board.
— President of the United States of America, Joseph Biden
Keep alive the truth and honor of the Holocaust.
— Joseph Biden, The President of the United States
Hillary Clinton, Secretary of State of the United States of America:
“We came, we saw, he died.”
President William Jefferson Clinton:
… [that there] is “no moral equivalency between the disgusting acts which took place inside that compound in Waco and the efforts that law enforcement officers made to enforce the law and protect innocent people.”
… Addressing the nation that evening, President Bill Clinton, described the attack as “an act of cowardice.” He vowed the federal government would find the terrorists and that “justice will be swift, certain and severe.”
… Martin Keating, brother of Frank Keating, former FBI agent and the governor of Oklahoma at the time of the Oklahoma City bombing, wrote the novel, The Final Jihad. It was written four years before the Murrah Building bombing. In the book a Tom McVay was a mastermind in the bombing of a federal building.
About the Author:
Martin Keating is a master storyteller with unique access to government intelligence agencies and clandestine terrorist groups. His brother Frank Keating, serving as Governor of Oklahoma until January 2003, is a former FBI agent and assistant secretary of the Treasury who supervised the Secret Service, U.S. Customs, and the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. Keating’s uncle, Barney Martin, was a career intelligence officer who headed the U.S. Navy’s worldwide foreign intelligence collection operations and counterintelligence activities. Introduced to the intelligence community through generations of family involvement, Martin Keating knows intimate details of what the rest of us can only imagine. Armed with firsthand knowledge of explosives and of chemical and biological weapons, Keating accurately reveals what the highest government officials have known, feared, and covered up for much too long.
President Donald Trump:
“That means big and it means fast. A massive scientific, industrial and logistical endeavor unlike anything our country has seen since the Manhattan Project.”
“ … Before Operation Warp Speed, the typical timeframe for development and approval, as you know, could be infinity. And we were very, very happy that we were able to get things done at a level that nobody has ever seen before. The gold standard vaccine has been done in less than nine months.”
… “You know who is in charge of it, honestly? I am,” President Donald Trump said during a meeting with New Jersey Gov. Phil Murphy at the White House.
… “finish the job.”
” … and moved my right hand to my ear, brought it down. My hand was covered with blood. Just absolutely blood all over the place.”
60 Minutes interview, Secretary of State Madelaine Albright [Clinton administration] with Leslie Stahl:
“We have heard that half a million [Iraqi] children have died. I mean, that is more children than died in Hiroshima,” Stahl said. “And, you know, is the price worth it?”
“I think that is a very hard choice,” Albright answered, “but the price, we think, the price is worth it.”
“One year ago, the people of Panama lived in fear, under the thumb of a dictator. Today democracy is restored; Panama is free. Operation Just Cause has achieved its objective. The number of military personnel in Panama is now very close to what it was before the operation began. And tonight I am announcing that well before the end of February, the additional numbers of American troops, the brave men and women of our Armed Forces who made this mission a success, will be back home.
President George H. W. Bush
Address Before a Joint Session of the Congress on the State of the Union
January 31, 1990
Chapter one
“Chancho, I need to borrow some sweats.”
— Nacho Libre
Thou Shall Not Kill.
— often attributed to The Creator, Elohim, Heavenly Father, God, The King
Life is precious. Do not take life.
You do not want to live the rest of your life having taken someone else’s. You do not want that. Nothing is worth this, that suffering, of you or your victim. They are a child of God. They have fears, virtues you cannot see from your limited vantage. They are sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandsons.
No matter what injustice you witness, hear about, or experience, refrain from murder. You must retain your soul, in the face of whatever is happening in the world, at least preserve your own goodness and sacred self. Be true to the child you once were. No matter what, that essence, of you, of God, of the universe, must survive.
It must.
Chapter two
… There are 33 bad words, forbidden in The United States of America, not only on broadcast or in print, but also in conversation at the Thanksgiving adult big table.
These words are Boston, 9/11, 7/7, 10/7, Jan. 6., fake elections, Covid Hoax, Sandy Hook, Aurora, Waco, Oklahoma City, Tucson, Paul Wellstone, San Bernardino, LAX, Fort Hood, JFK, RFK, MLK, Pearl Harbor, Orlando, Charlie Hebdo, Paul McCartney, The Moon, The Holocaust, The Shoe Bomber, The Underwear Bomber, The Unabomber, shit, cunt, fucknuts, motherfucker, and tits.
— Often attributed to Lester Holt
“FRAUD VITIATES EVERYTHING” (FVE) is the legal principle that, once it has been shown that one party has lied or committed a deliberate misrepresentation, their whole case is thereby compromised and no longer defensible in a court of law.
37 Am Jur 2d, Section 8, states, “Fraud vitiates every transaction and all contracts. Indeed, the principle is often stated, in broad and sweeping language, that fraud destroys the validity of everything into which it enters, and that it vitiates the most solemn contracts, documents, and even judgments.”
“World events do not occur by accident. They are made to happen, whether it is to do with national issues or commerce; and most of them are staged and managed by those who hold the purse strings.”
— Denis Healey, UK Secretary of State For Defence from 1964 to 1970 and Chancellor of the Exchequer from 1974 to 1979
That being said …
Have you no eyes to see, ears to hear, heart to feel what is everywhere around you?
The rich taking far more than their share, leaving the poor in the gutter.
The rich making war, to believe it or not — believe it — make money.
Everyone across the globe jockeying, strategizing, scheming night and day just in order to gain a larger slice of the pie for themselves.
Leaving the poor behind, to suffer.
Leaving everyone behind to believe in false narratives, accounts of what is happening, resulting for one thing in fictional history textbooks in our schools, and for another, with chaos, no one able to know what is true, what is really happening, which perhaps coincidentally, or conspiratorially, is the observable goal of the rich, the government, the political leaders, CIA, FBI, Mossad, to facilitate — the rich getting richer and the poor growing poorer.
If you can make it happen, don’t you want to make this stop, make things right?
Of course you do.
Anyone would.
But there really is no way.
We have no chance.
Unless …
What if the Weathermen had won the Sixties, along with the Black Panthers, the American Indian Movement, M.O.V.E. We probably would not talk about their guns and violence in such disparaging tones today, would we? Because, for one thing our sophomore history books would be written by Mario Savio, Mark Rudd, Bill Ayres, Huey Newton, Dennis Banks & Leonard Peltier, and John Africa rather than Tom Hanks, Ken Burns, Big Bird and Whoopi Goldberg.
What if George Washington had lost?
We might see General Cornwallis on Mount Rushmore, the Queen, Churchill, John Lennon.
Imagine.
The world is on the brink, as it has never been.
And it must be said, thanks to the efforts of the U.S. government, CIA, FBI, in concert with Israel, after a blink-of-an-eye one hundred and more year build-up of American power, deceit, monopoly, murder, theft, etc.
What if we really were a force for good as we perceive ourselves to be.
What if the events of Nov. 22, 1963 had not occurred as we know they did, leading into the Congressional-CIA-FBI-academia-military-media industrial complex manipulation of news and world events, which bring us right up to today, to the actual end of the world, sitting right outside, on our doorstep, out on the lawn, the sidewalk, on the roof, waiting for someone, anyone, to summon the courage to venture outside and fetch the morning paper.
What if when we walk out the door or down the hall or look across the kitchen table we did not already know that nothing of substance was going to be gleaned from this encounter.
What if …
“If a plane would have hit the Pentagon, we would have seen that short film one thousand times by now on Chevrolet commercials and Miller Beer commercials and on commercials somehow juxtaposing the Pentagon, puppy pellets, the Pittsburgh Pirates and the Pope-Mobile.
So. No plane hit the Pentagon.
And because we know that from the lack of Pope-Mobile prevarications, we can be sure that Bush, Rove, Rumsfeld, et. all are liars and murderers. And we can include a bunch more folks in there as well.
Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton.
The nice Obama family across the street.
They all know the truth and refuse.
Refuse.
To tell us.
And that’s the truth and I don’t care what happens to me, it’s just important that you know.
This has been a word from National Public Radio, Good ol’ Reverend Bob, Miss Thompson Your 5th Grade Teacher, The Tired Old Editor Strolling Down The Street After A Long Day At The Office, The Police, The Democratic Party, The American Legion, the Boy Scouts and Mom & Dad, all the people you trust to tell you the truth.
Chapter three
It’s all right, you can all sleep sound tonight.
I’m not crazy, or anything.
— Superman, Five For Fighting
There was this one guy.
Sitting alone in his house, far away from the city, with a dictionary in his lap, his finger on the word “manifest” while he stared out the big picture window on a cold scene.
You couldn’t tell by looking at me.
That I am a stranger in my hometown.
What’s it like to walk around my town and be a dissident?
Let me tell you.
Oh, you don’t agree with my terminology? You don’t like that I used “dissident.” You prefer I used unemployed or some other word that would say that I am different, out of touch, perhaps, because of my own fault.
You want me to feel bad about who I am, rather than tell you that you are the one in the wrong.
I won’t.
Dissident.
The word stays.
I stay.
I am a social deviant, perhaps, that’s what they might call me in a first-year psych course at the community college, someone not abiding by society’s norms, mores, customs.
But I am more than that. I am someone willing to fight, and for that I claim political status.
There is no embassy for me to run to. I sit along in my kitchen drinking re-heated coffee.
I stamp the cup down on the table and claim it.
I write a letter to the editor and my neighbor looks away even more deeply into his garden as I walk out my door toward the front walk.
The mailman is coming and I wait for him. He pulls his truck to a squeaky stop in front of my home. I prepare a quip about the brakes on his buggy.
He seems embarrassed to see me, then slips the mail into my hand with a hurried comment on the weather and scurries off, and I see that I will have time to refine my joke.
I leaf through the mail and stuff it under my arm, then walk down the street, looking at the driver of every car that passes. Maybe I know them. Each one stares intently ahead. They are all excellent drivers.
I walk downtown, into the cafe, looking for friendly eyes. My best friend from the high school basketball team — not that I played, but he did — gives me a kind of nod as he finds his way around me.
I decide I am not hungry and turn to go out.
I follow my own footprints to walk home. I don’t bother to check out who’s driving past. I don’t look to see who is out and about, sitting, standing, gabbing.
Staring straight ahead, I walk faster.
I pull up to my house just as my neighbor puts a full garbage bag over his shoulder to take to the alley. I don’t bother to try to catch his eye.
No over the shoulder “how you doing?’ wave. Not this time.
Not anymore.
I turn in at my house, push inside, drop my mail on the floor by the door, sit in my big chair.
I stare straight.
I sit there for a few minutes. It gets dark.
I’ve been sitting there for a long time.
And inside my head — inside the brain and heart that belong to me — I have either decided to die, or I am thinking of another letter to the editor
I don’t think you could tell by looking at me.
Wednesday afternoon
Dear Editor,
There is a church that I pass oftentimes when I go for drives in the country when the town gets to be too much.
For some reason I expect the country to be different.
It fools me every time.
There’s this church and a nice lawn and a flag and one of those glass enclosed signs — you know, it tells when the services are and gives a little quip for the week.
Some churches change them often and some leave the same one up all winter, maybe because it’s too cold to stand out there and try to get those magnetic letters to stick.
Maybe.
Anyway, they could say so much with those things, but they don’t.
They stay uber-patriotic and American, which is to say not very Christian, which is depressing, disheartening, defeating.
Disappointing.
I wonder if the people who go to church here feel the same.
I wonder if they drive to town, just to see if there’s anything different to be found, anywhere.
Chapter four
… The crimes of the United States have been systematic, constant, vicious, remorseless, but very few people have actually talked about them. You have to hand it to America. It has exercised a quite clinical manipulation of power worldwide while masquerading as a force for universal good. It’s a brilliant, even witty, highly successful act of hypnosis. I put to you that the United States is without doubt the greatest show on the road. Brutal, indifferent, scornful and ruthless it may be but it is also very clever.
As a salesman it is out on its own and its most saleable commodity is self-love. It’s a winner. Listen to all American presidents on television say the words, ‘the American people’, as in the sentence, ‘I say to the American people it is time to pray and to defend the rights of the American people and I ask the American people to trust their president in the action he is about to take on behalf of the American people.’ It’s a scintillating stratagem. Language is actually employed to keep thought at bay. The words ‘the American people’ provide a truly voluptuous cushion of reassurance. You don’t need to think. Just lie back on the cushion. The cushion may be suffocating your intelligence and your critical faculties but it’s very comfortable.
— Harold Pinter: Art, Truth & Politics Nobel Lecture December 7, 2005
There were two guys talking the other day.
On the street corner, in Minneapolis, the intersection of Lyndale and 40th Street, across from Sonny’s Ice Cream Cafe, Twin Towers Guitar, and Painter Park, with newly renovated skateboard and basketball dmz’s. They stood together, having just come from the Five Watt Cafe Coffee Shop right there.
“Hey! You know what I heard?
“The shooting of the health insurance CEO, you heard aboot it, right?”
Did he die?
“You know, that one guy, we don’t have health care for all, right? Why?”
Did he die?
“Yeah, I don’t think they know.”
They don’t know? How could they not know?
“You’d be surprised, at the number of ways, I believe … in any case …”
And these two guys, they didn’t want to speak bad of someone who might or might not be dead, but they did anyway, and they got a little into the weeds about how some thought it could be just another hoax for some reason or other that only Rachel Maddow and Eric Cartman knows for sure.
Yeah, one guy said with a sigh.
[One-thousand-one.]
[One-thousand-two.]
You know who else …
I think …
But before the one guy could finish his sentence, the other guy, apparently forgetting they were saying their goodbye’s, and maybe the other guy wanted to get going, but not really caring too much about that, launched into this story …
There’s a photo on the Internet that makes me laugh. A little brown boy holding a silent scream forever in four-color.
Ha.
The horrified little fellow now has no arms or legs, or brothers, sisters or parents, and I laugh out loud.
I laugh at the Marines, being all they could possibly be in God’s creation, at their tough-man commercials.
The Army of One. What a hoot.
The rough-guy coaches and players who let this boy die—what comedy watching them feel strong while letting the real battles be fought by little guys with sticks and bicycles.
The boy has a bandaged head. He looks so scared his hair might turn white, as in a Hitchcock film, and it sort of makes me chuckle.
I laugh at the ministers here in town and here on this TV saying bless our troops as they defend our freedom.
I laugh at the well-schooled and coifed newspaper columnists with their earnest close-cropped photos in four hundred papers read by forty million people in forty million cities.
And I laugh.
The boy is flat on his back on dirty cement, with his stubs hastily wrapped in Ace bandages, surrounded by the world trying to get a look, by photographers and people on their way to work and out to dinner.
We are nothing. Nothing. Nothing!
Because this boy now has no arms. No legs.
Nothing we do today will mean a thing because we have ripped the arms and legs from this boy as if he was a fly and we are us.
This boy who could be my boy, lying there at the feet of the world and the world looking the other way.
Goddamn us.
Please. Give us what we deserve. If you are a just God, rain down fire and hell upon our heads. Lighting bolts upon our backyard decks and rivers of excrement down our smooth, well-scrubbed streets.
Please, dear God we pray.
When I awoke this morning I thought it essential to the world order and being right, and a good person, that I shave, help out with the dishes, be on time, and drive on the right side of the road.
Do a good job. Be pleasant. Smile.
But now I just can’t stop laughing.
The world thinks it still matters, and that’s kind of funny in a way.
There, the flag flying over the Catholic elementary school and the yellow ribbons tied to the light poles on both sides of Main Street.
Stray cats wearing yellow ribbons around their necks, roaming the night, looking both ways before crossing the street, as if it mattered.
You are never so wrong as when you damage a young boy.
We sit down here like the Who’s in Whoville celebrating the coming of War Season while this boy lies on the cold floor.
Tee. Hee-hee.
The two guys had not noticed sitting behind them at a table, a young woman with tattoos and nose earring and bluish-purplish hair, wearing a Wonder Woman costume, holding her phone with both hands, staring at the screen, bored out of her freeking! mind.
She had listened to the story and now with wide Amazing Woman eyes and bluish-purplish hair that sparkled and glowed, sprang up and sprinted down the street, knees high, arms pumping, on a freeking! mission. …
About the author:
Mike Palecek has worked on newspapers in Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska and South Dakota. He also produced Penn Magazine, and was a co-founder of Moon Rock Books, along with Jim Fetzer, as well as co-hosting, along with Chuck Gregory, The New American Dream Radio Show. He has written several novels. Now retired after working for twenty years with the disabled, Palecek also served five terms in jail and prison for protests against U.S. military policy, and was the Iowa Democratic Party 5th District candidate for the U.S. House of Representatives in the 2000 election, receiving 65,500 votes
.(Banned from Canada)
https://mikepalecek.substack.com/p/oh-canada
(Palecek video presentations)
Freedom of the Press False Flags & Conspiracies Conference 2020
https://www.bitchute.com/video/PBDaf07tMm5K/
Freedom of the Press False Flags & Conspiracies Conference 2021
https://153news.net/watch_video.php?v=WGDSDUSWSM78
Radio interviews, KPFA, Pacifica Berkeley,
with Denny Smithson
https://mikepalecek.newdream.us/radio-interviews/
Archives for The New American Dream Radio Show
https://newdream.us
