The Dread Four Sticks Curse Leads Me Down The Insanity Road

OF COURSE I'M INSANE. THE NUMBERS KEEP COMING UP AND NOW THEY ARE GROWING. If I start getting emails from "The Lincolnshire Poacher" (one of the few identified numbers station receivers), I'm getting out of town, brother.


Subject: Re: Numbers Stations
Date: 6/30/2008 11:11:11 P.M. Central Daylight Time
From: milesbennell@yahoo.com
Reply To:
To: Jonalgiers@aol.com
Sent from the Internet (Details)

Curse Of The Four Sticks, Redux

I've posted the shot of my royalty check before. I had scanned the time card from my old job a few months back, waiting for the eventual Four Sticks Curse to rear up again. At this point, though, not being at that particular job, I thought it might be a cool idea to include a bottle of 11-11 Malt Liquor. Yin and yang, good karma and bad. The reason I finally found a reason to post on the curse, the origin of which can be found by clicking my previous links below, is because, yes, the numbers have shown up again. This isn't a Hurley on LOST/numbers station listening post kinda thing going. In short, once someone is told about the Four Sticks, they will appear in your life when least expected. For no reason. Case in point, the following excerpt from an article I was using for research:



Grand jury lifting veil on unsolved mob hits
By Rick Jervis and Liam Ford, Tribune staff reporters. Tribune staff reporters Ray Gibson and Art Barnum contributed to this report

January 23, 2005

Joseph "the Clown" Lombardo was at a workbench in his small Near West Side shop, where masonry saws and tools are sharpened, when 10 federal agents swarmed in.

One agent waved a grand jury warrant, another carried a cotton swab. The agents dabbed the inside of Lombardo's mouth with the swab--gathering DNA--and were gone in less than two minutes.

Lombardo, a longtime Chicago Outfit leader who publicly swore off his mob ties after being released from prison in 1992, is one of more than a dozen mob bosses and associates who are subjects of a new federal probe into long-dormant mob murders, some dating as far back as three decades.

A federal grand jury is investigating at least 16 unsolved killings, making it one of the biggest law-enforcement strikes against organized crime in Chicago history. Sources close to the investigation--dubbed Operation Family Secrets--and attorneys for some of the alleged mob members say they expect the grand jury to hand up indictments as early as next month.

Convictions on this scale would be unprecedented. The Chicago Crime Commission counts 1,111 Chicago-area gangland slayings since 1919, but only 14 have ended in murder convictions and three cases were cleared when the suspected killers were murdered before being arrested, according to the commission.

Why not just say over a thousand? Why not round it off to Eleven hundred? ts because complete strangers are trying to drive me mad in the past, present, and very likely in the future, coming up with ways for the damnable sequence of ones to show up again and again...Wayne

Numbers Stations AKA What's The Frequency, Kenneth?

Well, I have been promising a post about Number Stations. The melodrama about my face falling onto a George Pelecanos novel I received from Steve Malley in New Zealand will have to wait. My postings have been erratic of late because of my book project for that publisher in New Delhi. Well, that and reading a crapload of Martian Manhunter comics. Anyways. On the television show LOST, mentioned in the last post because of my niece commenting on how I resemble the character of John Locke--as much as I resemble Colin Mochrie on WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAYS?, if you really want to take it that far--there were/are several allusions to a series of numbers and listening posts in the Pacific. I've often gone back to the numbers, as many viewers do, and I've tried to do thought experiments dealing with each individual number as a specific person on the show, like that. My thought experiments are usually directed towards my writings, i.e., the masochistic vampire who is pissed because he can't feel pain, the bulemic zombie, the hentai penguins (don't ask, don't tell), the list goes on. But back to the numbers. I was fascinated by the numbers being broadcast to listening stations and so I looked up rainbow codes, the NATO phonetic alphabet, acrophony codes, and then discovered the Conet Project. You can look this up on the Internet, but I printed out a copy at the plant and had bindery slap it together. There are hundreds of listening posts or "Shortwave Numbers Stations" around the world, but only ONE has been identified by point of origin, it's in the Czech Republic. Random examples: from Romania, 0101001010 POZOR POZOR 986, repeated in a loop. From German: Delta Foxtrot Charlie Drei Seben DFC37 repeat loop. Some numbers stations pick up music, such as a popular Hungarian song in the 60s called "Prisoner of Love." According to the book, one of the newer Numbers Stations (as of 1997) is a Magnetic Fields Station from a suspected CIA location in England or Scotland. It is related to the Hungarian station, and plays on frequencies 11290 and 6645khz. The interval signal is Jeanne Michelle Jarre's "Les Chants Magnetiques." Some numbers stations are used primarily for blocking other stations, i.e., Iran and Iraq being their usual wacky selves. Years ago, Dan Rather was bitch-slapped by a couple of guys who kept asking him what the frequency was and calling him Kenneth. Sounds like a scene out of John Keel's THE MOTHMAN PROPHECIES. And there's my posting. I suspicion that many of those looped transmissions had their posts abandoned at the end of the Cold War, though I'm pretty sure that the wall radio in my bathroom is a direct feed to Donald Rumsfeld's secret hideway in the Amazon rainforest. I drive him nuts by singing "Candy Bars For Elvis" while I brush my teeth at 6 AM just to disrupt his day, particularly when I recite a string of numbers and then say spit, repeat, and continue brushing. Gotta do something to get the day going wghile the coffee is still brewing, am I right?....Wayne