And when we say “demand”, we mean DEMAND…
Standing stooped over his standard-issue detective’s desk, a crazy Dirk Dickerson flips back and forth through the pages of his handsome, cowhide-bound journal that doubles as a sort of confessionary diary.
His large apish ears (kind of like a chimpanzee’s), his caveman mind are shutting out the hum and ruckus of his fellow gumshoes traversing the hall just outside the agency’s main office, each changing the location of their person from room to room in a mindless slowly twirling fedora-topped ballet that betrays no discernable scheme, design, or pattern, exhibits no perceivable sense, logic, or reason.
Far below him, and just above his wingtip-shoed feet, there is another kind of clamoring and complaining. He looks down and notes – the deep and bucket-like bottom drawer of his desk is open; in it, what looks to be a sickly and wheezing rook lamely beating its head and wings against the drawer’s top and sides.
This provokes Dickerson to angrily kick the drawer to, metallically muffling the bird’s weak and nauseating clanking to now resemble buttons knocking against the drum of a coin-operated laundromat dryer, as the several shirts they’re attached to tumble laboriously around and around behind the machine’s locked porthole. Naturally, and by logical extension of the clever metaphor, sooner or later, they should stop – trustingly believes Dickerson. But the large, bucket-like drawer of Dickerson’s desk, as you and I know, is nothing like a clothing dryer.
Please understand, ladies and germs, we are well aware that eventually all metaphors break down. Why, in the whole history of the human world, there hasn’t been one that hasn’t (broken down), victoriously withstanding the relentless onslaught of time-savaging disassembly by the intellectual fare-forwarding of Man. Even the best symbols and conceits of Shakespeare can eventually be held up to ridicule if they are pushed far enough into the realm of the absurd. Therefore, conveniently, the relevant theorem having already been tested by our predecessors throughout all of recorded history, this one (metaphor) is no exception, clever though it be – or possibly not.
‘Here,’ Dickerson suddenly stops at a page of his journal, ‘What’s this?’
To himself Dickerson reads:
“Step repeatedly watches the so-called Zapruder Film, for no reason I can guess. Step keeps trying to hone in on the moment Kennedy’s limo driver, Secret Service Agent Bill Greer (Special Agent Roy Kellerman next to him in the front passenger seat), turns his head over his right shoulder to look at Kennedy after the president is shot in the trachea, his head down, both hands clutching his neck, just like a man choking, in great and panicked desperation. Step keeps doing this, like an insane man, as if he’s going to get a different result the 70th or 80th time he does it.
“Then Greer, according to the version of the film we have been allowed to have (following its first public airing only 12 years after the assassination (sarcasm intended)), appears to slow the car down (rather than speeding it up to try to get the president out of additional harm’s way), and then turns his head around a second time, same as before, and lifting a gun he’s holding in his left hand, blows Kennedy’s head off with it, shooting it over his right shoulder, immediately after which he turns back around to driving position, ducks or slouches down in his seat (to protect himself from incoming bullets), and only then speeds away.
“It took me a long time to finally convince, or, should I say, reconvince Step of something he and I both already knew – that the film had been doctored to make people trying to analyze the moment think and conclude that this is what happened.
“But that’s impossible, I keep telling Step, the stubborn fool, because that would have dramatically increased the chances of the president’s head whipping right and back, whereas it whipped left and back.
“I further remind him we both know the film had been additionally doctored to disguise the fact that Greer did not merely slow the vehicle down, but actually stopped it. We know this from other footage and photos that we’d seen taken from angles different from that of the Zapruder Film, as well as from the doctoring evidence in the Zapruder Film itself – plain to see, once it’s pointed out, and therefore impossible to unsee thereafter.
“This gives all the more credence to the fact that Kennedy was shot from just forward of him and from his right, rather than from his left, and that Greer stopped the car in the road at an exact, previously agreed-upon, and probably rehearsed point, precisely for the reason of giving any one of the many sharpshooting assassins strategically positioned out and up there, the chance to get the greatly desired and hoped-for shot off – the one that finally does the job.
“Because up until that moment, all the would-be assassins hadn’t justified their existence, all the preparation, all the planning, because things like this often turn out to be far harder to pull off in reality compared to all the notes taken, calculations made, and diagrams drawn beforehand in theory. The tremendous stress and tension of the moment, nerves strained, on end – in short, up to that point, they hadn’t managed very well at all.
“And that shot, the one that finally got him, thanks to Greer momentarily parking the car, in all likelihood came out of the sewer, just forward and lower right of the president, which is most consistent with the movement of the president’s head.
“In other words, I keep telling Step, it was a last-ditch effort on Greer’s part to help them murder the president, because every other shot had failed.
“Because by the time they finally managed to blow Kennedy’s head off, he’d already been shot, at the very least, in the back and in the neck, and possibly could have yet been saved, while Texas Governor John Connally had been shot in at least two or three different places by bullets that had most likely been meant for the president.”
Dickerson closes his journal and sits down at his desk to recall the very last interaction with Step, in that very office, regarding the Kennedy assassination and, more specifically, Step’s inexplicable and dumbfounding obsession with the agents Greer and Kellerman – the very interaction, in fact, which led to Step’s wild-eyed and total destruction of the Heavy Hebe’s top-of-the-line satellite spying equipment in the 2nd lower level of the city’s central synagogue, which equipment the Hebe had been leasing from Globalists, Inc., but somehow minus the insurance, which turned out too bad for the over-thrifty Hebe – thanks to that maniac, Step.
Dickerson angrily kicks his desk’s bottom drawer to shut the sickly and probably dying rook in there up, but to no avail – the plaintive masochism to which the abominable bird has, in its own bird world’s desperation, given itself over, continues slowly, dully, but persistently on…
And this, my friends, is where the much-hankered-after Prequel, for which we, here, of Kyiv Unedited’s Secret Editorial Board, have suffered so much, begins…
For as Dickerson sits there quietly at his desk, remembering, in his mind’s eye he now sees the obstinate fool, Jack Step, repeatedly watching the 26 or so seconds of his own pixeled-up copy of the ridiculous and – given the obvious tampering that it had been subjected to prior to its public release, one can confidently say – phony and fraudulent silent home movie purportedly showing the assassination of JFK and how it all went down.
The muffled bird below him giving no rest, in his mind, Dickerson is now looking into a briefly moving composite simulacrum image, which, being grainy, erratic, jumpy, and faded, is eerily reminiscent in certain of its qualities to the Zapruder Film itself, of Step watching, poring over that film, particularly two or three specific moments, over a period of many days, again and again and again…
And now, as Dickerson thinks, and remembers thinking, he places himself into the composite scene as it unfolds, and as he returns back into the office with a cup of coffee and chocolate brownie, he is unable to suppress, ‘Well, now this takes the fuckin’ cake!’
For while Dickerson was out, getting his hand wounds dressed by Ira the Nurse, and pouring himself another cup of coffee, Step had dimmed the room’s lights and thrown the dang-blasted moving picture aberration known as the Zapruder Film from his computer onto the big screen on the wall.
“Hey, Dickerson, you don’t believe me, but watch this! I just added some more pixels!”
‘He’s so excited about it,’ Dickerson thinks, ‘and so stupid,’ and Dickerson can’t believe he’s about to comply; about to sidle up closer to the big screen and try to see what Step is about to claim he sees himself.
“Come on, Step! That fucking thing’s been repeatedly discredited by now, as inauthentic, a phony, a scam, a fake, a fraud, targeted misdirection, a deep-state hoax… And you know it, and I know it, and we both fucking KNOW IT!!!”
“Oh, but Dickerson, that’s because there’s a reason it has… Now, watch…”
Yes, folks, we are sorry to say that our two American, Kyiv-based detectives are actually wasting their time – and all because of Jack Step and his stupid, incomprehensible and seemingly sudden obsession with the Kennedy assassination’s infamous and notorious Zapruder Film.
Of necessity, you gotta go to the next frame (that is, when it finally makes it to this website) to see how it went, as we can’t spend any more time here. But now that the Prequel’s here, it absolutely must go on!
Snoozers are losers!
Filed by Saint Stephan, December 2, 2025