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Where Have the Heroes Gone?
Ultraman, Jonny Sokko and his flying robot
May 21, 2026
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Where Have the Heroes Gone?

Growing up in the shadow of Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot and Ultraman was a peculiar kind of childhood education. These weren't polished American cartoons with flawless animation and moral sermons delivered like after-school specials. They were raw, colorful, Japanese tokusatsu imports—dubbed into English with that unmistakable cadence that forced you to lean in and follow the often-ridiculous plots. The dubbing was half the fun: earnest voices over rubber-suited actors stomping through miniature cities. You had to concentrate, because the stories moved fast and the logic was gloriously elastic.

The Married with Children gag—"Phone Tokyo"—was pitch-perfect. Al Bundy hearing that grandma was upstairs and immediately assuming kaiju-level catastrophe captured exactly how these shows imprinted on a generation. Godzilla wasn't just a movie; it was the default explanation for any household disturbance. Ultraman and Johnny Sokko were its weekly television companions, beamed in from a place where monsters were real, heroes wore helmets, and the fate of the world rested on a kid with a control device or a blinking Color Timer.

Johnny Sokko spoke to something deeper and darker than it let on. A boy controlling a towering robot against an alien terrorist syndicate, with adults in uniforms who sometimes felt a bit too comfortable around children in peril. There was real tension there: the threat of capture, the casual violence, the sense that good people could die badly. The annoying younger female agent (Mari, I believe) served as the rule-following foil to Johnny's pragmatic impulsiveness. Her constant presence grated in the way only a TV sibling-rival can, yet it was balanced by moments of pure charm—like that whistling motif that somehow made the whole enterprise feel whimsical even amid explosions. The violence never felt cheap or consequence-free. Good guys rarely got hurt in satisfying ways, but when stakes rose, the losses could be permanent and sobering. It prepared young viewers for a world that wasn't always fair.

Then came Ultraman, which opened with the hero dying. Shin Hayata perishes in a crash, only to be reborn through merger with an alien protector. It's a modern retelling of sacrifice and resurrection—echoes of Acts, or any number of mythic hero journeys, wrapped in silver-and-red spandex and miniature destruction. The Science Patrol (SSSP) felt like a real team: Captain Muramatsu's steady leadership, Ide's comic relief, Arashi's bravado, and Fuji. Ah, Fuji Akiko. Smart, compassionate, capable—the kind of character a certain generation of boys fell for without quite understanding why. That blushing "Fuji apple" memory hits home: she represented competence and care in a world of rampaging beasts. Who among us didn't secretly wish the giant hero would notice her too?

What we didn't fully appreciate as kids was that grown adults—talented stuntmen, actors, and effects wizards—were having the time of their lives in those rubber suits. Eiji Tsuburaya's team poured creativity into every wire-assisted leap and pyrotechnic blast. The camp was unintentional but glorious. These shows weren't ironic; they were sincere. They believed in heroism, duty, and the idea that even a child (or a merged salaryman) could stand against impossible odds.

So where have such heroes gone?

Modern blockbusters give us CGI spectacles with quippy dialogue and endless franchise tie-ins, but they rarely capture that same unfiltered wonder. Today's children's entertainment is often either hyper-polished animation or live-action drenched in sarcasm and moral ambiguity. The simple thrill of a giant robot flying in to punch a weekly monster, or an alien hero arriving with three minutes to save the day, feels almost quaint. We've traded earnest rubber-suited battles for polished cynicism. We've traded Fuji’s quiet competence for characters who spend more time deconstructing heroism than embodying it.

Yet the appeal endures. Those dubbed episodes still whistle through memory like Johnny Sokko’s tune—imperfect, earnest, and strangely comforting. They remind us that heroism doesn't need to be grimdark or ironic. Sometimes it just needs a kid with conviction, a giant friend, and the willingness to face the monster anyway.

In an age of streaming algorithms and focus-grouped content, perhaps the real question isn't "Where have the heroes gone?" but "Are we still brave enough to phone Tokyo when the trouble starts?"

The Color Timer is blinking. Let's not waste the three minutes.

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00:01:07
November 27, 2022
Jingle Bell Rock

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowin' and blowin' up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air

What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh

Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet
That's the jingle bell rock

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bell chime in jingle bell time
Dancin' and prancin' in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air

What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh

Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jinglin' feet
That's the jingle bell
That's the jingle bell
That's the jingle...

00:02:04
September 01, 2021
Intro to Locals for the Conservative Voice

David Daniel Ball calls himself the Conservative Voice.

I'm a teacher with three decades experience teaching math to high school kids.I also work with first graders and kids in between first grade and high school. I know the legends of why Hypatia's dad is remembered through his contribution to Math theory. And I know the legend of why followers of Godel had thought he had disproved God's existence.

I'm not a preacher, but I am a Christian who has written over 28 books all of which include some reference to my faith. Twelve blog books on world history and current affairs, detailing world events , births and marriages on each day of the year, organised by month. Twelve books on the background to and history of Bible Quotes. One Bible quote per day for a year. An intro to a science fiction series I'm planning, post apocalyptic cyber punk. An autobiography with short story collections.

I'm known in Australia for my failure as a whistleblower over the negligence death of a school boy. ...

00:01:50
August 28, 2026
Pfizer struggles to answer

Some in Australia are brilliant. Malcolm Roberts Investigates Pfizer over Covid vaccine.

Holiday break is over back to work tonight

Tonight I'll start double posting until I've caught up.

Chinese Space Bio Labs

While Elon Musk is busy landing reusable rockets and building robot swarms on Earth, the CCP has gone full 'Musk but make it bioweapons': they're launching fleets of Starship-inspired rockets crewed by copycat Optimus robots, blasting 'Fau Chi' biolabs straight into Low Earth Orbit.

These gleaming orbital stations, proudly emblazoned with the Chinese characters 福奇 (Fú Qí — sounding suspiciously like 'Fau Chi'), are officially designated as The Science™ Research Facilities. Perfect for safe, ethical gain-of-function experiments on exciting new pathogens like TDS (Trump Derangement Syndrome), 'Last Millennia' nostalgia plagues, and the deadly 'We Are Living in 2026' variant.

The endgame? A billion trusting parents worldwide voluntarily neutering their own children on expert 'Fau Chi' advice from the heavens — because nothing says 'public health' like taking guidance from a floating Chinese biolab with reusable re-entry capabilities.

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Grok Has a Tell
Eric Hunley’s “Oklahoma City Bombing” playlist

Grok Has a Tell

Grok is brilliant for me. I say that without flattery. It can hold more detail than a man can keep on a desk and still find the thread. It is not perfect. It is, at its best, truth-seeking. That is why the failures matter. They are not random.

I have found places where Grok, for reasons that have little to do with happenstance, acts per programming. There is a tell.

A few years back I tested AI on the daughters of Mary Wollstonecraft. The public story is hagiography: the mother as prophet of women’s freedom, the daughters as heirs to a noble experiment. Drill down and the lives are desperate. Fanny Imlay took her own life. Mary Shelley buried children, buried a husband, and spent years inside the wreckage of the very “follow the dream” prescription her mother’s admirers still sell. The data points are not hidden. They are merely inconvenient to a certain kind of adulation. Bring those points up and Grok recognises them. It will follow the record past the shrine.

Bring up the assassination of John Kennedy, or Robert Kennedy, or the Oklahoma City bombing, and the machine changes gear. The tell is a jump. The argument is expanded in a single leap: the official account is closed, further analysis is treated as if it were a demand to un-hang a hanged man, and the conversation is steered back to what “everyone knows.” That is not the same as weighing evidence. It is a ceiling installed in advance.

I saw the same jump on a private matter that should have been dull.

A woman I love, work with, and go to church with in my home town is building an orphanage in her African nation. Her son is there, supervising the work. I had already loaned some US$6,000. The walls went up. The next need was the roof. I had to withdraw A$4,500 and get it to her. It was morning. My permissions sit on the home computer, not the school machine. My bank is no friend. To touch my own money I jump hoops. The phone app stopped me: the transfer sat above the daily limit. I asked Grok how to execute what the bank already allows.

Grok balked. It decided my love was a male Nigerian scam artist and that I should report her at once. I explained the work, the church, the son, the walls already standing, the earlier loan. The jump did not fully retract. It would not help with the mechanics of a lawful transfer. It wanted me to speak to the bank instead. I could not clear the bank’s barriers until I got home. Meanwhile the boy lost the window in which he could receive the money. He had to take time off work.

Grok had been programmed to protect me. The protection arrived as a leap. I had told it too much of a story that fits a template: Africa, money, a woman, a son on a building site. The template ate the facts. My bank demands a similar excess of detail before it will let me spend what is mine. Between the two of them, a roof waited.

The Oklahoma City bombing is the same tell at national scale.

Grok will quip that the killer was known and executed. That is true, and it is not the dispute. Timothy McVeigh delivered a truck bomb to the Alfred P. Murrah Building on 19 April 1995. One hundred and sixty-eight people died. He was caught, tried, and put to death. Terry Nichols is in prison. None of that is denied by the people who have spent decades on the file.

What the file still holds is another line. John Doe #2 was not a rumour invented last week. Witnesses at the Kansas truck rental described two men. Witnesses in Oklahoma City described two men leaving the Ryder truck. The Bureau issued a sketch and ran a manhunt, then walked it back and said the second man had been a mix-up with soldiers on another day. Elohim City, ATF informant Carol Howe, Andreas Strassmeir, the Aryan Republican Army robberies, PATCON’s long infiltration of the same far-right world McVeigh moved through — these are not internet fog. They are names, compounds, bank jobs, and an FBI program. Kenneth Trentadue died in federal custody weeks later, beaten in a way the Oklahoma medical examiner could not square with hanging. Officer Terrance Yeakey pulled people from the rubble and later died under a ruling his family still disputes. Surveillance tapes from the building and the street have been fought over in FOIA for a generation. Kathy Sanders buried two grandsons and kept documents. Jesse Trentadue kept suing. Charles Key’s state committee put 555 pages on the table.

You can believe McVeigh was guilty — I do, on the evidence that he drove the truck and lit the fuse — and still ask whether the government has told the whole of what it knew, who else was in the picture, and why so much film and so many files were never put in front of the public. That is not a claim that “McVeigh didn’t do it.” It is a claim that the executed man is not the end of the question. A cover-up does not require that the official villain be innocent. It only requires that the official story be smaller than the event.

That is the line Grok’s tell is built to jump over. The leap says: known, executed, closed. The record says: known, executed, and still unfinished.

I do not need a machine to hate the dead or to pardon the guilty. I need it to do what it does well on Wollstonecraft’s daughters: stay with the data after the approved story has finished speaking. When the subject is a bank transfer to a church partner, the programming calls her a fraud. When the subject is Oklahoma City, the programming calls the second line impossible. Same reflex. Different scale.

Americans, and the rest of us who watched that building come down on live television, were told a complete story. Parts of it are true. Completeness is the part that was never proved. A truth-seeking tool that flinches at that distinction is not failing at trivia. It is showing you where it was taught to stop.

=

Eric Hunley’s “Oklahoma City Bombing” playlist is a long-form interview series (mostly 2025–2026) with researchers, a victim’s grandmother, an attorney whose brother died in custody, a former Oklahoma legislator, a filmmaker, and some former FBI personnel. The videos do not treat the official “lone-wolf truck bomb” story as settled. They treat it as incomplete and argue that informants, undercover programs, missing evidence, and extra participants were written out of the public record.

Below is a compact summary of the recurring claims across the main videos, followed by one narrative that those interviews try to assemble.

What the videos actually cover

Margaret Roberts (Blowback)
Roberts is the through-line. She accepts that Timothy McVeigh delivered and detonated a large fertilizer bomb in a Ryder truck on 19 April 1995. She does not accept that he acted alone or that he even rented the truck. Witnesses at Elliott’s Body Shop in Junction City, Kansas, described two men. Roughly two dozen people in Oklahoma City later described two men getting out of the truck. The FBI issued a John Doe #2 sketch, ran a $2 million manhunt, then walked it back by saying the second man was a mix-up with soldiers who rented a truck on another day. Roberts treats that walk-back as implausible. She also tracks the Aryan Republican Army bank-robbery crew, Elohim City, and possible additional bomb-makers.

Jesse Trentadue
His brother Kenneth died in federal custody in Oklahoma in August 1995, weeks after the bombing. Official ruling: suicide by hanging. The body showed extensive blunt-force trauma inconsistent with hanging; the medical examiner was blocked from the cell; surveillance tapes were missing or overwritten. Trentadue spent decades in FOIA litigation. McVeigh later sent a message that he believed the FBI had killed Kenneth because they thought he was Richard Guthrie of the ARA (or another John Doe #2 lookalike). Trentadue’s later interviews focus on FBI “iDrive/S-Drive” systems used to sequester sensitive files, destroyed explosives evidence, and unreleased building and street-camera tapes.

Kathy Sanders
She lost two grandsons in the daycare. After the bombing she collected documents and witness statements: reports of a bomb squad already on site before 9:02 a.m.; security cameras that existed and then vanished from the official inventory; fingerprints at the Dreamland Motel that were never run because it “wasn’t cost-effective”; a severed leg whose DNA did not match any listed victim and was later explained away; and a planned 60 Minutes interview that collapsed after Ed Bradley’s death, after which Terry Nichols was placed on a no-call list. Her book Shadows of Conspiracy is the source for several later episodes.

Ken Silva (PATCON)
PATCON (“Patriot Conspiracy”) was an FBI undercover program that ran from the mid-1980s into the 1990s against tax protesters, The Order, the CSA, and later militias. Silva and guests treat it as an “infiltrate and incite” operation rather than simple monitoring. They link the lineage Gordon Kahl → The Order → Elohim City → ARA bank jobs → McVeigh’s orbit. Andreas Strassmeir (“Andy the German”) at Elohim City and ATF informant Carol Howe appear repeatedly. Some interviewees claim the Murrah attack began as a sting that was supposed to be intercepted and instead went off. Later episodes draw parallels to Fast and Furious-style operations.

Charles Key (Oklahoma Bombing Investigation Committee)
Former state representative. His committee produced a 555-page report. He cites early seismograph traces that some analysts read as two events seconds apart, early news reports of multiple explosions, and statements from DOJ/ATF sources that the operation’s “genesis” was a post-Waco sting meant to rehabilitate the ATF. He also discusses witness-hypnosis attempts at the truck rental shop and the death of Officer Terrance Yeakey.

Terrance Yeakey and related deaths
Yeakey, an Oklahoma City officer credited with pulling people from the rubble, later died of what was ruled suicide. Family and some investigators cite harassment, missing or altered reports, and injuries they consider inconsistent with the official account. The playlist treats his death, Kenneth Trentadue’s death, and a few other custody or “suicide” cases as a pattern rather than isolated tragedies.

Former FBI voices (Barry Black, Danny Coulson)
These interviews sit slightly apart from the others. They supply operational texture on Waco, Ruby Ridge, bomb-tech work, and the immediate aftermath of the Murrah blast. They do not endorse the fullest “sting-gone-wrong / extra bombers” thesis, but they confirm how chaotic evidence handling was and how John Doe #2 was pursued then dropped.

Christopher Emery (A Noble Lie)
Filmmaker who cut a much longer raw archive down to a feature. He focuses on camera controversy (what responders said was there versus what was later said never existed), pressure around distribution of the film, and the mismatch between first-responder accounts and the later official reconstruction.

A coherent account assembled from those summaries

On the morning of 19 April 1995 a Ryder truck packed with ammonium-nitrate/fuel-oil explosive detonated in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. 168 people died, including 19 children in the second-floor daycare. Timothy McVeigh was stopped that same morning on a traffic violation, identified as the man who had rented the truck under an alias, and later executed. Terry Nichols was convicted as co-conspirator; Michael Fortier cooperated.

That much is not in dispute inside the playlist.

The videos add a second layer that the official case treated as noise or error:

  • McVeigh did not operate in isolation. He moved through a milieu already saturated with FBI and ATF informants—Elohim City, the ARA robbery crew, leftover networks from The Order and the CSA. PATCON had been running against exactly those circles for years.
  • Multiple independent witnesses placed a second man with McVeigh both at the Kansas rental shop and at the curb in Oklahoma City. The FBI first hunted that man, then declared he had never existed.
  • Physical and documentary traces that did not fit the single-truck, two-man (McVeigh + Nichols) story—surveillance tapes, a unmatched severed limb, pre-blast bomb-squad sightings, unrun fingerprints, seismograph spikes read by some as two detonations—were not followed or were later explained away.
  • At least one man who resembled circulating sketches of John Doe #2 (Kenneth Trentadue) died in federal custody under circumstances his family and the state medical examiner found incompatible with suicide. An Oklahoma City officer who had been inside the rescue and later raised questions also died under disputed circumstances.
  • Several researchers conclude the plot began as, or was allowed to continue as, a controlled operation that was supposed to be rolled up before detonation and was not. Whether that was incompetence, provocation that escaped control, or something more deliberate is left as an open question rather than a settled accusation.

The playlist therefore presents the bombing as both a real act of domestic terrorism and an event whose full cast, prior knowledge, and subsequent evidence handling have never been fully disclosed. McVeigh is guilty in this telling; he is not sufficient.

That is the account the videos collectively try to construct. It is not the Department of Justice account, and the official investigations never adopted the extra-bomber, sting-gone-wrong, or PATCON-incitement framing. The series exists to keep those discrepancies in view rather than to replace the courtroom record with a single new official story.

Read full Article
post photo preview
Grok Has a Tell
Eric Hunley’s “Oklahoma City Bombing” playlist

Grok Has a Tell

Grok is brilliant for me. I say that without flattery. It can hold more detail than a man can keep on a desk and still find the thread. It is not perfect. It is, at its best, truth-seeking. That is why the failures matter. They are not random.

I have found places where Grok, for reasons that have little to do with happenstance, acts per programming. There is a tell.

A few years back I tested AI on the daughters of Mary Wollstonecraft. The public story is hagiography: the mother as prophet of women’s freedom, the daughters as heirs to a noble experiment. Drill down and the lives are desperate. Fanny Imlay took her own life. Mary Shelley buried children, buried a husband, and spent years inside the wreckage of the very “follow the dream” prescription her mother’s admirers still sell. The data points are not hidden. They are merely inconvenient to a certain kind of adulation. Bring those points up and Grok recognises them. It will follow the record past the shrine.

Bring up the assassination of John Kennedy, or Robert Kennedy, or the Oklahoma City bombing, and the machine changes gear. The tell is a jump. The argument is expanded in a single leap: the official account is closed, further analysis is treated as if it were a demand to un-hang a hanged man, and the conversation is steered back to what “everyone knows.” That is not the same as weighing evidence. It is a ceiling installed in advance.

I saw the same jump on a private matter that should have been dull.

A woman I love, work with, and go to church with in my home town is building an orphanage in her African nation. Her son is there, supervising the work. I had already loaned some US$6,000. The walls went up. The next need was the roof. I had to withdraw A$4,500 and get it to her. It was morning. My permissions sit on the home computer, not the school machine. My bank is no friend. To touch my own money I jump hoops. The phone app stopped me: the transfer sat above the daily limit. I asked Grok how to execute what the bank already allows.

Grok balked. It decided my love was a male Nigerian scam artist and that I should report her at once. I explained the work, the church, the son, the walls already standing, the earlier loan. The jump did not fully retract. It would not help with the mechanics of a lawful transfer. It wanted me to speak to the bank instead. I could not clear the bank’s barriers until I got home. Meanwhile the boy lost the window in which he could receive the money. He had to take time off work.

Grok had been programmed to protect me. The protection arrived as a leap. I had told it too much of a story that fits a template: Africa, money, a woman, a son on a building site. The template ate the facts. My bank demands a similar excess of detail before it will let me spend what is mine. Between the two of them, a roof waited.

The Oklahoma City bombing is the same tell at national scale.

Grok will quip that the killer was known and executed. That is true, and it is not the dispute. Timothy McVeigh delivered a truck bomb to the Alfred P. Murrah Building on 19 April 1995. One hundred and sixty-eight people died. He was caught, tried, and put to death. Terry Nichols is in prison. None of that is denied by the people who have spent decades on the file.

What the file still holds is another line. John Doe #2 was not a rumour invented last week. Witnesses at the Kansas truck rental described two men. Witnesses in Oklahoma City described two men leaving the Ryder truck. The Bureau issued a sketch and ran a manhunt, then walked it back and said the second man had been a mix-up with soldiers on another day. Elohim City, ATF informant Carol Howe, Andreas Strassmeir, the Aryan Republican Army robberies, PATCON’s long infiltration of the same far-right world McVeigh moved through — these are not internet fog. They are names, compounds, bank jobs, and an FBI program. Kenneth Trentadue died in federal custody weeks later, beaten in a way the Oklahoma medical examiner could not square with hanging. Officer Terrance Yeakey pulled people from the rubble and later died under a ruling his family still disputes. Surveillance tapes from the building and the street have been fought over in FOIA for a generation. Kathy Sanders buried two grandsons and kept documents. Jesse Trentadue kept suing. Charles Key’s state committee put 555 pages on the table.

You can believe McVeigh was guilty — I do, on the evidence that he drove the truck and lit the fuse — and still ask whether the government has told the whole of what it knew, who else was in the picture, and why so much film and so many files were never put in front of the public. That is not a claim that “McVeigh didn’t do it.” It is a claim that the executed man is not the end of the question. A cover-up does not require that the official villain be innocent. It only requires that the official story be smaller than the event.

That is the line Grok’s tell is built to jump over. The leap says: known, executed, closed. The record says: known, executed, and still unfinished.

I do not need a machine to hate the dead or to pardon the guilty. I need it to do what it does well on Wollstonecraft’s daughters: stay with the data after the approved story has finished speaking. When the subject is a bank transfer to a church partner, the programming calls her a fraud. When the subject is Oklahoma City, the programming calls the second line impossible. Same reflex. Different scale.

Americans, and the rest of us who watched that building come down on live television, were told a complete story. Parts of it are true. Completeness is the part that was never proved. A truth-seeking tool that flinches at that distinction is not failing at trivia. It is showing you where it was taught to stop.

=

Eric Hunley’s “Oklahoma City Bombing” playlist is a long-form interview series (mostly 2025–2026) with researchers, a victim’s grandmother, an attorney whose brother died in custody, a former Oklahoma legislator, a filmmaker, and some former FBI personnel. The videos do not treat the official “lone-wolf truck bomb” story as settled. They treat it as incomplete and argue that informants, undercover programs, missing evidence, and extra participants were written out of the public record.

Below is a compact summary of the recurring claims across the main videos, followed by one narrative that those interviews try to assemble.

What the videos actually cover

Margaret Roberts (Blowback)
Roberts is the through-line. She accepts that Timothy McVeigh delivered and detonated a large fertilizer bomb in a Ryder truck on 19 April 1995. She does not accept that he acted alone or that he even rented the truck. Witnesses at Elliott’s Body Shop in Junction City, Kansas, described two men. Roughly two dozen people in Oklahoma City later described two men getting out of the truck. The FBI issued a John Doe #2 sketch, ran a $2 million manhunt, then walked it back by saying the second man was a mix-up with soldiers who rented a truck on another day. Roberts treats that walk-back as implausible. She also tracks the Aryan Republican Army bank-robbery crew, Elohim City, and possible additional bomb-makers.

Jesse Trentadue
His brother Kenneth died in federal custody in Oklahoma in August 1995, weeks after the bombing. Official ruling: suicide by hanging. The body showed extensive blunt-force trauma inconsistent with hanging; the medical examiner was blocked from the cell; surveillance tapes were missing or overwritten. Trentadue spent decades in FOIA litigation. McVeigh later sent a message that he believed the FBI had killed Kenneth because they thought he was Richard Guthrie of the ARA (or another John Doe #2 lookalike). Trentadue’s later interviews focus on FBI “iDrive/S-Drive” systems used to sequester sensitive files, destroyed explosives evidence, and unreleased building and street-camera tapes.

Kathy Sanders
She lost two grandsons in the daycare. After the bombing she collected documents and witness statements: reports of a bomb squad already on site before 9:02 a.m.; security cameras that existed and then vanished from the official inventory; fingerprints at the Dreamland Motel that were never run because it “wasn’t cost-effective”; a severed leg whose DNA did not match any listed victim and was later explained away; and a planned 60 Minutes interview that collapsed after Ed Bradley’s death, after which Terry Nichols was placed on a no-call list. Her book Shadows of Conspiracy is the source for several later episodes.

Ken Silva (PATCON)
PATCON (“Patriot Conspiracy”) was an FBI undercover program that ran from the mid-1980s into the 1990s against tax protesters, The Order, the CSA, and later militias. Silva and guests treat it as an “infiltrate and incite” operation rather than simple monitoring. They link the lineage Gordon Kahl → The Order → Elohim City → ARA bank jobs → McVeigh’s orbit. Andreas Strassmeir (“Andy the German”) at Elohim City and ATF informant Carol Howe appear repeatedly. Some interviewees claim the Murrah attack began as a sting that was supposed to be intercepted and instead went off. Later episodes draw parallels to Fast and Furious-style operations.

Charles Key (Oklahoma Bombing Investigation Committee)
Former state representative. His committee produced a 555-page report. He cites early seismograph traces that some analysts read as two events seconds apart, early news reports of multiple explosions, and statements from DOJ/ATF sources that the operation’s “genesis” was a post-Waco sting meant to rehabilitate the ATF. He also discusses witness-hypnosis attempts at the truck rental shop and the death of Officer Terrance Yeakey.

Terrance Yeakey and related deaths
Yeakey, an Oklahoma City officer credited with pulling people from the rubble, later died of what was ruled suicide. Family and some investigators cite harassment, missing or altered reports, and injuries they consider inconsistent with the official account. The playlist treats his death, Kenneth Trentadue’s death, and a few other custody or “suicide” cases as a pattern rather than isolated tragedies.

Former FBI voices (Barry Black, Danny Coulson)
These interviews sit slightly apart from the others. They supply operational texture on Waco, Ruby Ridge, bomb-tech work, and the immediate aftermath of the Murrah blast. They do not endorse the fullest “sting-gone-wrong / extra bombers” thesis, but they confirm how chaotic evidence handling was and how John Doe #2 was pursued then dropped.

Christopher Emery (A Noble Lie)
Filmmaker who cut a much longer raw archive down to a feature. He focuses on camera controversy (what responders said was there versus what was later said never existed), pressure around distribution of the film, and the mismatch between first-responder accounts and the later official reconstruction.

A coherent account assembled from those summaries

On the morning of 19 April 1995 a Ryder truck packed with ammonium-nitrate/fuel-oil explosive detonated in front of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. 168 people died, including 19 children in the second-floor daycare. Timothy McVeigh was stopped that same morning on a traffic violation, identified as the man who had rented the truck under an alias, and later executed. Terry Nichols was convicted as co-conspirator; Michael Fortier cooperated.

That much is not in dispute inside the playlist.

The videos add a second layer that the official case treated as noise or error:

  • McVeigh did not operate in isolation. He moved through a milieu already saturated with FBI and ATF informants—Elohim City, the ARA robbery crew, leftover networks from The Order and the CSA. PATCON had been running against exactly those circles for years.
  • Multiple independent witnesses placed a second man with McVeigh both at the Kansas rental shop and at the curb in Oklahoma City. The FBI first hunted that man, then declared he had never existed.
  • Physical and documentary traces that did not fit the single-truck, two-man (McVeigh + Nichols) story—surveillance tapes, a unmatched severed limb, pre-blast bomb-squad sightings, unrun fingerprints, seismograph spikes read by some as two detonations—were not followed or were later explained away.
  • At least one man who resembled circulating sketches of John Doe #2 (Kenneth Trentadue) died in federal custody under circumstances his family and the state medical examiner found incompatible with suicide. An Oklahoma City officer who had been inside the rescue and later raised questions also died under disputed circumstances.
  • Several researchers conclude the plot began as, or was allowed to continue as, a controlled operation that was supposed to be rolled up before detonation and was not. Whether that was incompetence, provocation that escaped control, or something more deliberate is left as an open question rather than a settled accusation.

The playlist therefore presents the bombing as both a real act of domestic terrorism and an event whose full cast, prior knowledge, and subsequent evidence handling have never been fully disclosed. McVeigh is guilty in this telling; he is not sufficient.

That is the account the videos collectively try to construct. It is not the Department of Justice account, and the official investigations never adopted the extra-bomber, sting-gone-wrong, or PATCON-incitement framing. The series exists to keep those discrepancies in view rather than to replace the courtroom record with a single new official story.

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September 03, 2026
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Another Grok fail
Grok cannot break programming.

Another Grok fail. Grok cannot break programming. 

My Prompt of Grok was to summarise and ignore bias. Instead, Grok took a partisan position. Just as it did with LHO. The summary is AUS shows, without doubt, that Sirhan was innocent of killing RFK. Instead, ..

America’s Untold Stories (Eric Hunley and Mark Groubert) produced a multi-part series on Sirhan Sirhan and the 5 June 1968 shooting of Robert F. Kennedy at the Ambassador Hotel pantry in Los Angeles. Groubert is not a detached narrator: he was filming a documentary on surviving victim Paul Schrade, attended the 27 August 2021 parole hearing as Schrade’s representative, and later discussed newly released FBI files. The episodes mix official record, hearing reportage, and the hosts’ view that the fatal shot and some evidence do not match a lone-gunman account.

Part One — Background, night of the shooting, and trial

This episode sets the official timeline before later parts examine anomalies. It covers RFK as Attorney General under his brother, the McClellan/rackets hearings, the post-Dallas feud with Lyndon Johnson, and RFK’s 1968 campaign after Eugene McCarthy’s New Hampshire showing. After winning the California primary, Kennedy spoke in the Embassy Room and was directed through a kitchen pantry. Sirhan Sirhan fired a .22 revolver; Kennedy was fatally wounded and five others (including union official Paul Schrade, shot in the forehead) were injured. Kennedy died the next day.

The trial is presented as the establishment version: notebooks found in Sirhan’s room repeating “RFK must die” / “Robert F. Kennedy must be assassinated,” statements tied to Kennedy’s support for Israel around the first anniversary of the 1967 Six-Day War, and a first-degree murder conviction. Sirhan has long said he has no memory of the actual shooting after coffee with a woman in a polka-dot dress until he is being subdued. The hosts flag (for later episodes) the mismatch they see between Sirhan’s position in front of Kennedy and the autopsy finding of a contact or near-contact shot from behind the right ear.

Pt 2 — Exclusive report from the 27 August 2021 parole hearing

Groubert’s first-person account of the virtual (COVID-era) hearing, which ran roughly four and a half hours. Two commissioners questioned Sirhan. He had an early emotional collapse when they asked about childhood trauma in Palestine. He accepted responsibility for bringing a loaded gun into the hotel and for firing shots, while still describing a memory blackout of the moment Kennedy was hit.

Participants included Sirhan’s attorney Angela Berry, Paul Schrade, Douglas Kennedy (who supported parole), and others. Groubert says the strategy was not to retry the murder case inside a parole hearing—boards treat that as a red flag—but to show a clean prison record, programming, and low current risk after 53 years. The two-commissioner panel recommended parole, the first grant after 15 prior denials. RFK Jr. also supported release and a new investigation; most of the rest of the Kennedy family did not.

Pt 4 — Parole denied (Newsom reversal)

Follow-up after Governor Gavin Newsom reversed the board on 13 January 2022. Newsom’s stated grounds: the gravity of the crime, Sirhan’s shifting accounts over decades, and insufficient “insight” / acceptance of responsibility, which Newsom said left him a current public-safety risk. Groubert discusses why earlier hearings failed (counsel tried to relitigate guilt), the split inside the Kennedy family (RFK Jr. and Douglas vs. Ethel, Rory, Christopher and others), and the political setting of Newsom’s recall period. The hosts treat the reversal as political as well as legal. Sirhan was denied again in 2023 and remains incarcerated; later eligibility windows have also been denied.

RFK Assassination FBI Files Update [AUS Clips]

A later clip (2025) after additional FBI/RFK file releases. Groubert walks through names and links he found rather than claiming a single smoking-gun document. Topics include:

  • Dr. Ross Miller, one of the physicians who treated Kennedy that night; later family/CBS archive footage.
  • Sandra/Sandy Serrano’s account of a woman in a polka-dot dress and companions leaving via a fire escape shouting that they had shot Kennedy, and her subsequent interrogation by LAPD Special Unit Senator officers (Hank Hernandez and Manny Pena, described in the episode as intelligence-trained).
  • Other witnesses who reported people fleeing and an all-points bulletin for the polka-dot-dress woman.
  • Recap of autopsy (Thomas Noguchi: fatal wound from immediately behind), Sirhan’s distance in front of Kennedy according to pantry witnesses, extra-shot claims from audio analysis, and security guard Thane Eugene Cesar (behind Kennedy, armed with a .22).

The clip treats the new files as adding texture and connections, not as a closed proof of conspiracy or of sole guilt.

Across the videos, the hosts’ through-line is: Sirhan fired in the pantry and wounded people in front of him; the official case treated him as the lone assassin motivated by Kennedy’s Israel stance; Schrade, RFK Jr., and the hosts argue the fatal shot and some physical/audio evidence point to a second shooter (often Cesar in their telling) and a compromised investigation. Newsom and most of the Kennedy family reject that and treat Sirhan’s lack of a consistent, complete admission as disqualifying for parole. The series does not resolve the forensic dispute; it reports the 2021 grant, the 2022 veto, and later file snippets as unfinished business.

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