Mysterious Murder of Marilyn Monroe Read online

  There are so many lies out there that the truth itself seems a bit like a piece of theater, a soap opera and a work of fiction. But as many films and soaps and other literary works had already portrayed, it´s not art that imitates life, or that reality is reflected upon fictional events. Instead what´s real in fact always seems to overwhelm even the most imaginative and ingenious minds. And so it was the case with the wannabe starlet Anna Nicole.

  She was born Vickie Lynn Hogan, and if you are the least concerned about mind control programs you know that the first thing to take someone out of one's reality and make a fictional characters out of someone own life is to change the original name. Because that´s what they did with Marilyn Monroe, to whom they first changed her original name to Mona (or Monarch, like saying “My Ark”, as an analogy to the ark of covenant, or convenience, an allusion to all the treasure and the money that they could make out of her. A Monarch is what they call those who are hypnotized to make good service. And there are still so many more of other personalities who serve them as well that it´s hard to keep track of them all.

  After a slip as a stripper in Houston, Texas, she finally ended up being in Playboy magazine and became Hugh Hefner´s protégée. And it was then that she became so brainwashed to wanting to become the next Marilyn Monroe.

  The director Stanley Kubrick tried many times to open up people´s minds with his films. And what would turn out to be his last movie, Eyes Wide Shut, I rather say Open, based upon Arthur Schnitzler 1926´s fiction Dream Story (really?) he showed more in the cutting scenes than from anything else portrayed in the final cut. In the end he died six days after screening his final cut and being miserable by the editing result. Or was he killed to not screen his film fully the way that he had planned to show the underworld and denounce people in his own metier meter by meter?

  The Strange Case of Brittany Murphy

  Back in the year 2009, another starlet, “dumb” or also playing as such, a blond bombshell was found dead in her house´s bathroom. Again they accused her on being a drug addicted, and she accused them on this foul play, vindicated case of fabricating such lies just to have her dead and never be convicted of her murder.

  Her husband told a friend about his worries of the couple having been under surveillance, and had her phone bugged. And in the same way that it came to his acknowledging about this, actually, soon after that he was found dead on the same mysterious way as his endearing wife Brittany. And such as it was the case for Marilyn Monroe when she told about the threats that she had been through, confining her fears to her doctors and her close friends, and even to the press and other people thinking they were crazy and on drugs to speak about those paranoid events. A few months later, on December 21, Brittany was found dead. She was only 32. Even their ages were so close together. Marilyn died at age 36.

  That would open another can of worms saying that those two deaths were too coincidental and too close to each other where she was allegedly under the lenses of the US Home Security watch list. And that would only make the case even more mysterious; only if she was still alive to tell the facts.

  I guess she was not even able to defend herself when she tried to support her friend Julia Davis. That she wouldn´t be capable of knowing what or who actually killed her. I cannot hear her voicing about it, that´s such an eerie way to say that. As crazy as it sounds, I´m not the least able to channel her thoughts here.

  “Hello, Brittany... Earth calling!”

  Nope. No answer.

  Wherever she might be now, so that she and her husband who died just a few months later in the strange same way, they both could not rest in peace. Or just to quote her faithful friend Julia Davis, “Brittany wasn´t a junkie, she wasn’t a party girl. She was a sweet, innocent young woman... She didn´t deserve to die at such a young age.” And so it goes for Marilyn Monroe.

  All these stories have some points in common: bombshells bursting out of their lives by drug abuses. But let's face it: Are they really responsible for that? Apart from being murdered... even Anna Nicole who had homicide, suicide and natural causes abolished from her medical file) still could be seen as a case of murder.

  If you don´t take the many conspiracy theories like revolving doors, running around so many facts and disturbances hovering over those amazingly beautiful and astonishing, intelligent women, so smart that they disguised their high IQ to play dumb, although both genuinely ingenious AND ingenuous, you cannot discard the passivity of a foul play. No, I do not think Anna Nicole was being vigilant (maybe only on her weight) and she was under surveillance even though she became protagonist of her own reality show. But if you believe in mind control program and that Marilyn Monroe was a Beta program, the first mind controlled bombshell in the entertainment industry, she who actually was very controlled by her own doctors, would have being a success unless she didn´t start to become paranoid (or not) to believe that she was being followed in each and every step that she would make. And she did indeed state that she would be a whistle-blower of some of the actions where she was the pivotal target.

  And then a curse takes its course and we can only concord and indorse it in homeopathic doses...

  Another star, although from the Martial Arts, also had some martial laws running through his brain. He apparently suffered a course, which went back to his own father being killed in a strange way.

  Bruce Lee also had the same prognostic: his taking pills to distract a current headache lead to his death after a mix up of other medications. But even after so many years, things are not conclusive in his case. Was he murdered by the Chinese Mafia which was enraged by his teachings of Kung Fu to the Western World?

  Lee was working in the studio on his new film Enter the Dragon. His head was hot, he felt like it would explode with all the aches and pains and breaks he had gone through to the final synchronizations of the film. Plus they had turned off the fan in the studio for the noise was too loud and that it would eventually distract the playing of the action. He then went to a break to go wash his face in the toilet.

  When he went down on his knees to try finding his contact lenses that he had allegedly said to have dropped after almost collapsing, a colleague came abruptly towards him to check if he was feeling all right. He was a strong man, hard to die and he would never convince himself that he was sick. He got up saying that he was fine and ready to go back to work.

  It was then that a few minutes later, back on the studio he did feel a cold electric current flowing through his system and reaching out to his brain. He shivered and later on he collapsed and they took him to the hospital. He became unconscious. He was not responding to any words. He had convulsions.

  Was that part of that Chinese curse that ran through his family? Or did someone just give him some substance, the way they did to Jayne in that crazy ritualistic party that they had her collapsing in the bathroom floor? It was then that Bruce knew about the dangers that his own family was to be part of did he not take matters to his hands.

  Still at the hospital bed, Linda came beside him, and after one hour and half he woke up from the trance and it was then that she heard him speaking which was apparently pure gibberish. He decided to tell his wife about the vision he had while convulsing and said that he had seen two tombs: one was written his name and just beside that there was the name of his son, Brandon Lee.

  “Are you sure you saw the dates right?” Linda then asked him, believing in him one hundred percent. She always respected and never took for granted his suppositions and some would even question if they were only superstitions.

  “Yes, I´m definitely positive I will die sooner, but I still can change this. Let there be only a tomb for Brandon Bruce Lee, not his body. The date was 1993. They shall take his name, but not take his soul; I am sure I will die soon. But please don´t let them take our son from you. Please make sure you will leave his tomb next to mine. But only a black stone.”

  Later on, doctors diagnosed him of having convulsions though due to unknown ca
uses for he had a perfect health.

  After feeling really sick, a friend offered Bruce Lee a medication that she often took while feeling headaches. This seemed to be fatal in the end.

  I´m not here to speculate on the causes of his death, but only to realize about his entire legacy, his films, his Martial Art, his methods of fighting, his moves and movies and his life. But one thing that I feel it is true, and is that he's very much alive in spirit, after visiting his grave four months ago, that being on September, 7 2014. And right when I passed through his grave and seated on the cement bench before it I was feeling a warmth in my hand while meditating in front of his tomb: His soul is still so much alive, and full of colors, as much as his own son.

  When I was walking towards his grave two men were descending their way out, going down towards the main gate of the place where Lee was buried, at the Lakeview Cemetery in Seattle. One of them looked at me as I went up and he went down his way and we came to cross paths. He was a chatain clair, which in French means that he had a light brownish hair. And he wore glasses. I sensed that he had some Martial Arts training, being myself a Kung Fu golden belt trained by an accomplished and important, recognized master sifu in America. We didn´t speak but I knew that he was somehow related to the Lee´s legacy.

  Now people so fanatic for the conspiracy theories are just recently investigating the similarities of traces saying that Christopher Greene (The AM reporter and activist, the king of conspiracy theories break down) is actually Brandon Lee who faked his own death. Maybe it was all planned by his own father prior to his death, and her wife having promised him that she would take such a good care of him, as to not allowing his son to die the date that Bruce saw in his vision. So, it was all played out to distract him from the public view. Or was that a foul play to make the movie where the supposedly fatal shooting happened in “The Raven” sells more? (It was actually called The Crow, but this is still fiction based upon facts, so let´s keep it like that).

  All those are intriguing questions like unsolved mysterious and they would keep distracting and puzzle their fans maybe for the rest of their lives.

  During the Independence Day in Brazil, and there I was, paying tribute to The Greatest Movie Fighter Ever.

  As I seated before his grave I felt my hands very warm, and then I bowed in respect for what he represented to me since I was a little girl when I watched his films and tried to imitate his moves.

  Later on I became a martial artist myself, practicing Tai Chi and Chi Kung, and then obtaining my degree in Kung Fu when I went to study with a sifu (High Master) at the US Martial Arts Academy in Gaithersburg, Maryland where I got my golden belt. All that started with a star that had influenced me beyond his imagination.

  I took two pictures of his grave and a multicolored light appeared to be coming from the stone which bears his name and the rays almost touched the soil coming towards me.

  I took that as a token for his appreciation of me going there.

  For me it was just a sign saying that he was really grateful for my effort of coming all the way up there to make a reverence towards him. And then I asked him to give me an advice. And when I asked if I should follow his steps, already leaving his grave's spot, I felt a creative energy embodying me and then I had a certainty touching right through the core and in my entire soul.

  “Keep doing what you are doing. You are fine. Keep walking in your own way.” Those are the words I heard from him.

  A ray of light travels through the whole picture and lies down on earth as a blessing coming from the sky. The touch of the sun makes a trail and surrounds the statue of Christ the Redeemer in the Corcovado Mountain in Rio.

  The Sugar Loaf embraces the Copacabana Beach with her sweet arms covering the eternal blue sky. The desert made of sand and erosion from the deforestation of the mountain by people who surround the “Rocinha”, the most famous “favela” or slum located in Rio de Janeiro, which plans to wake up late in the laziness of the slow-motion days, could easily be explained by the latest incidents.

  Two more policemen were killed while trying to penetrate its intricate drug dealer’s fighting gang jungle.

  There she lives, Christy, like crucified in another cross, but this being the diminutive of her name which is Christina.

  She lives alone, her mother died of cancer when she was fifteen. And her father, according to her mother, he never existed. It was as simple as that.

  Pointless to ask about more, only that her mother was a Latina, yet American woman as well, since America includes both North and South Hemisphere. “We are all Americans!”

  Christina is a mulatta, with her gray and greenish eyes and curly blond hair that drops like silky stars in the ocean and falls over her shoulders, so abundant it covers half of her chest, a cascade that stops only by touching the middle of her back.

  She looked like a Yemanja figure portrayed by many covered with a blue cape filled with stars and a half moon over her forehead.

  Christina works at the factory in the Ipanema Beach, near the street called upon the name of the famous composer Vinicius de Moraes.

  Vinicius, though not as famous as his companion, co-wrote the song “Girl from Ipanema” with Mr. Tom Jobim, who died few years ago in the city that he adopted as his home: New York.

  She also has a boyfriend. But his character is so full of complexity and misty desires that it can be easily matched up with the whole Copacabana scenario. He indeed presents himself as a “not a nice person” or a bad boy just like the designs in his shorts. And that gives him a mystique, flair, also to frighten people around.

  He goes by the motto: “If you mess with me, you are playing with fire!” And he enjoys this frightening atmosphere, this scaring aura that he mathematically creates around himself.

  His mother seemed to have created a monster out of her own child. And Christina knows that.

  Although all the missives by the police department and people around telling her to stay away from him, she wants to change that Karma.

  She wants to make him the perfect guy, her prince charming, and she believes she can do that. Like all dreamers she believes in a perfect future where she will be able to surpass all obstacles and live in serenity.

  She really believes that. She knows that he is not that bad guy after all. She also knows that he gives her money to go to school, although she knows very well where this money come from, she never speculates or talk about this.

  And she is happy that she can complete her studies. Otherwise, she would be doomed to live forever earning less and spending more than her money could afford.

  When those two souls, the girl from the Ipanema Beach and the girl from the “Quaker’s Preach”, would finally encounter each other? When those parallel lives would find a crossroad? If they live in parallel that would mean that they never will.

  But they’ve got a connection. And here is where all lives can be the same, all lived, although not exactly “lived” or delivered, as in Latin “libertas” as a liberated state. And I wonder if there is something to do with “Lieber” from German, and I guess that's for Liberty, as if all love is free. But at least, they are the same characters in exactly the same plot.

  Christina has a famous friend, considered a celebrity in her own country. And this friend of hers works for GBO Network, an enterprise in Brazil that owns many companies including the most famous TV Station in Brazil.

  Her friend works as an actress, and she works in a Soap Opera that is about to finish in a week. She meets her friend, Christina, at night, after both go out of their work time. They talk about trivial things. They go out to dance, and “have fun”, as they both say to each other. And they are both nineteen years old. They have so much in common...

  Christina also wants to become an actress and she had just started at the University of Rio de Janeiro, the “URJ”, since her boyfriend decided to help her to invest on her dream.

  “Oh, it is so urgent that you finish the ‘URJ’, girl!”

>   “Yes, I know, the URJ so urge me to do that too!” She replied to her famous friend.

  That is the advice of Cindy to her friend. Cynthia’s mother is a writer and she is the one writing the story for the Soap Opera where her daughter participates as one of the principal characters.

  Although Christina has a boyfriend who gives her his support, he is a violent man, a “mucho” macho type of guy.

  She talks so little about him, although never belittles him, not so much for the lack of opportunity but more as an embarrassment by the way that he treats her.

  Cindy has the most marvelous man in the world. He is rich. He is famous and has the most wonderful smile someone would ever desire to look at when feeling sad. He would lighten up the most miserable of souls. He had also a superb personality and he could be easily described as the man of any girl’s dream. He was indeed a dream. Sometimes Cindy seemed to be so fragile, so vulnerable, that she looked more like a pigeon crying as she spoke about her dreamy life.

  “You know, Chris, I love this man,” she says to her friend, feeling so insecure and sobbing throughout the whole sentence. “Sometimes I am afraid to lose him. He is so gorgeous and there are just too many women running around him, and drilling their way towards him, drooling all over his body!”

  “Imagine, you, afraid of losing him?”

  “Yeah, sometimes I just start to wonder if that is not too much for me...you know, like that saying: it is too good to be true...”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, girl! He loves you so much that nothing would ever separate you two, nothing would make you apart f4rom each other. Nothing! I could not imagine Roy leaving you, never!”

  “...Till death shall do apart...” she said, with a sad regard.

  She kissed her friend good-bye, and she disappeared between the crowds at the Copacabana Avenue. She looked down and she got dizzy by the stripes that make the way with little pieces of tiles that decorate the sidewalk of the famous beach.