It goes without saying that everything you have been told is a lie. Well, everything except what I am telling you. Because if I were really lying I wouldn’t tell you that everything you hear is a lie, as this would make you suspect that I am lying. Then you would be all like, “Hey, are you lying?” And I’d be like, “No man, I mean that other people are lying to you.” And you’d be like, “But how can I be sure?” And I’d say something like, “Dude, LOOK at my face, I am TOTALLY not lying to you right now!” And then…Okay hold on a second. This is getting off to a bad start.
Alright let’s start this over again. Sometimes in a nation’s history there are tragedies so painful that we accept them at face value and refuse to hear any uncomfortable questions which threaten to re-open old wounds. What is more important, knowing the truth, or suppressing the pain? Well the answer to this is obvious. We must know the truth, or if not the real truth, a version of the truth which helps us to believe we are enlightened independent thinkers as opposed to mindless sheep, also known as everyone else. What truth am I speaking of here? What truth separates we independent minds, who do our own research, from the mindless sheep who suck down Big Macs and drive their cars to Wal-Mart where they buy “products” and listen to pop music on their factory radios? I am of course speaking of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
LAKE OF LIES: THE TRUTH ABOUT THE WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgI8bta-7aw (The evidence is right in front of your eyes)
Let us begin with the official story, if only for the laughs. HA HA HA! I am laughing at how ridiculous and absurd the official story is! HA HA HA! The idiotic, totally unbelievable, official story would have us believe that the Emund Fitzgerald, an ore freighter with a deadweight tonnage of 26,000, sank during a storm on 10 November 1975 in Lake Superior. The event was made famous by the folk-singer Gordon Lightfoot in a song appropriately named “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” As it turns out, this is no coincidence. The shocking, horrifying truth which will be revealed shortly is that the Edmund Fitzgerald was in fact sunk by none other than Gordon Lightfoot himself. Some people, or shall I say “sheeple”, react to this with incredulity. But I am merely asking questions.
When considering any historical event, it is important to ask the question, “qui bono?” Or if you aren’t Catholic, “who benefits?” In the case of the Edmund Fitzgerald the answer is obvious- Gordon Lightfoot. But to understand his motives, we must look back into the past, specifically to the American folk music revival of the 1960’s.
In the late 50’s and 60’s, folk music made a short-lived comeback. By the late 60’s it started to peter out as the popularity of rock and other styles grew. It stands to reason that some of those who found themselves with great popularity during this phase expected it to last. But with folk music waning on the musical scene, especially by the beginning of the 70’, some artists were driven to desperation. One of them would be Gordon Lightfoot. In an attempt to save his career and preserve the popularity of folk music, he sank the Edmund Fitzgerald so that he could write a hit song about it in 1976. Up until now, the plan worked. The song was a hit, and Gordon Lightfoot would forever be associated with the Edmund Fitzgerald. But now the truth has caught up with the musical terrorist.
THE OFFICIAL STORY IS FULL OF HOLES
Obviously anyone who is not a sheep can see that the official story of the Edmund Fitzgerald is full of holes. First of all, we’re supposed to believe that this massive ore freighter sank, in a lake. Right. How many freighters do you know of which sank in a lake? I’m guessing zero. Seriously, name one. Can you do it? I didn’t think so.
This is Lake Maracaibo, in Venezuela. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Maracaibo As you can see, it’s very big. Oil tankers go in and out of Lake Maracaibo all the time. Have any of them sank? No. Well, maybe some did. But I submit to you, dear reader, that none of the ships which sank in Lake Maracaibo were the Edmund Fitzgerald.
So we’re supposed to believe that this huge freighter was rocked by a storm on a lake so strong that not only did it sink, but it could not make for the shore and ground itself. Right. Perhaps this kind of thing happened in the 19th century, but in 1975? Sorry, but I don’t believe in fairy tales.
THE SMOKING GUN
Of course the most damning evidence against the musical folk-terrorist Gordon Lightfoot lies in the lyrics of his famous, or shall I say, infamous song. Let us look at a few clues from the song itself.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down of the big lake they called “Gitche Gumee.” The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead when the skies of November turn gloomy.
Here we see two important facts. The first important fact, which will come up several times later in this expose, is that Lightfoot had intimate knowledge of not only Lake Superior itself, but also of the surrounding areas and the other lakes. This would prove crucial in his mission to sink the freighter. Second, note how he mentions that the lake ‘never gives up her dead’, in other words, he was counting on the fact that nobody would find the bodies. No bodies, no autopsies, no signs of foul play.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
when the “Gales of November” came early.
Here we see that just as Lightfoot knew the territory, he also knew the target. He had intimate knowledge of the ship, its cargo, and most importantly, how vulnerable it would be to attack. The only lie here is the accusation regarding the “gales of November.” Gales, Mr. Lightfoot? Is that what you call naval mines? Never mind that for now, we’ll get to it later.
The ship was the pride of the American side
coming back from some mill in Wisconsin.
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
with a crew and good captain well seasoned,
concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
when they left fully loaded for Cleveland.
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang,
could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?
Note how Lightfoot points out that the ship was “the pride of the American side.” In other words, the ship was an important asset in the Cold War, and obviously sinking it would garner much attention and sadness. He also knew the ship’s destination.
At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
Here we might have the biggest smoking gun; Lightfoot actually knew the time that the main hatch caved in. How could he have known that had he not been involved in the “accident?”
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
They “might have split up or capsized”? Yes, Mr. Lightfoot, they might have had they been struck by an explosive device like a naval mine.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.
There is little of value in this verse, save for the fact that we once again see that Lightfoot had intimate knowledge of the territory.
HOW DID HE DO IT?
This is an article about naval mines: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naval_mine
Note this sentence: Mines can be laid in many ways: by purpose-built minelayers, refitted ships, submarines, or aircraft—and even by dropping them into a harbour by hand. They can be inexpensive: some variants can cost as little as US$1000, though more sophisticated mines can cost millions of dollars, be equipped with several kinds of sensors, and deliver a warhead by rocket or torpedo.
Note that they can be inexpensive. In any case, it is clear that in 1975, Gordon Lightfoot could have easily afforded a few mines at $1000 each.
There is also one more crucial detail, perhaps the most damning of all. On the night of 10 November 1975, where exactly was Gordon Lightfoot? Nobody knows, but I know where he wasn’t. He wasn’t aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Gordon Lightfoot sank the Edmund Fitzgerald in a callous attempt to preserve his career and the folk music genre. It may seem unlikely, but nobody can say without a doubt that it is impossible. Spread this story to your friends so that you can wake them up and demand a new investigation into the events of 10 November 1975.