My Library

You see, Shafia was to become one of my three major advisors regarding international affairs of the type that never get mentioned in the media, science, academe, or mentioned even by conspiracy enthusiasts. Here is the world of the Really Secret -- the world of stuff so ugly and/or so silly, or so slimebucket-like, that most people simply pretend by silent consent that it doesn’t exist. In order to get into this, I have to return back to the year of 1967 and take up a personal issue that might seem irrelevant to the book. But this issue was central to two developments. First, my knowledge of this issue served to create a unique link between my little self and the tremendous figure that was Shafica Karagulla. Second, the time was nearing when, of all, things I would have to decide whether to become attached to CIA sponsorship of the project at SRI -- the CIA being, in most people’s minds, somewhat of a scumbaggy affair liberally laced with stupid mistakes. And it was the following event in 1967 that tipped the scales. Readers of this memoir will remember that I came to New York in 1958 with visions of becoming an "artist." I managed to obtain work at the United Nations to support myself until I "arrived" in the New York Art Establishment. Thus, I painted away and worked in the great International Organization then seen as truly vital to world order. By 1967, it had become apparent to me that I could not gain ANY real access to the Art Establishment, not even by volunteering to fund my own exhibitions. My paintings were shown at a small gallery. But this was not THE art establishment.