The official legend is created and the media takes it from there. The glitter of official lies and the epic splendor of JFK's funeral confuse the eye and confound the understanding. Hitler said: "The bigger the lie, the more people will believe it." Lee Harvey Oswald, a crazed, lonely man who wanted attention and got it by killing a President was only the first in a long line of patsies. In later years, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, men whose commitment to change and peace made them dangerous to men committed to war, would follow also killed by such lonely crazed men. Men who remove all guilt by making murder a meaningless act of a loner. We've all become Hamlets in our country, children of a slain father-leader whose killers still possess the throne. The ghost of John F. Kennedy confronts us with the secret murder at the heart of the American Dream. He forces on us the appalling questions: Of what is our Constitution made? What are our lives worth? What is the future of a democracy where a President can be assassinated under suspicious cir****stances while the machinery of legal action scarcely trembles? How many more political murders disguised as heart attacks, suicides, cancers, drug overdoses? How many plane and car crashes will occur before they are exposed for what they are? "Treason doth never prosper," wrote an English poet, "What's the reason? For if it prosper, none dare call it treason."
The official legend is created and the media takes it from there. The glitter of official lies and the epic splendor of JFK's funeral confuse the eye and confound the understanding. Hitler said: "The bigger the lie, the more people will believe it." Lee Harvey Oswald, a crazed, lonely man who wanted attention and got it by killing a President was only the first in a long line of patsies. In later years, Bobby Kennedy, Martin Luther King, men whose commitment to change and peace made them dangerous to men committed to war, would follow also killed by such lonely crazed men. Men who remove all guilt by making murder a meaningless act of a loner. We've all become Hamlets in our country, children of a slain father-leader whose killers still possess the throne. The ghost of John F. Kennedy confronts us with the secret murder at the heart of the American Dream. He forces on us the appalling questions: Of what is our Constitution made? What are our lives worth? What is the future of a democracy where a President can be assassinated under suspicious cir****stances while the machinery of legal action scarcely trembles? How many more political murders disguised as heart attacks, suicides, cancers, drug overdoses? How many plane and car crashes will occur before they are exposed for what they are? "Treason doth never prosper," wrote an English poet, "What's the reason? For if it prosper, none dare call it treason."
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