#Hasidic mafias

[awesomecooperlove]

THE DEMONIC W.H.O. EXPOSED

🔥🔥🔥

[michael6618]

Every Republican that is far right, every MAGA Republican and The Fringe right Republicans know this as fact:

That Democrats are actually a lizard people and that the pizza parlor in Washington DC actually has a dungeon were Democratic lizard people eat babies. It's a fact look it up it's on the internet.

For brevity I shall refer to these people as 'far right'.

The far right people also know and understand that Majorie Taylor Green was correct that there are probably Hasidic Jews in flying saucers that lit California's forest fires because after all California is a liberal state. And that these flying saucers with Hasidic Jews did his service to the country.

Tampa-based "Bubba the Love Sponge" radio show and the alleged witch? What? Okay folks just Google it.

And now we come to why everybody and far right hated Nancy Pelosi. I have a theory, it wasn't because she was a Democrat it wasn't because she was a woman. It was because she could whip her caucus in line and vote in unison.

To all of you Republican donors, what do you think of your new House of Representatives who could not even get the votes to elect a speaker of the house three times? Money will spend?

To all of you Republican voters who put your hopes and dreams and tears and sweat and money phone banking to get these Republican Representatives elected, how is that working out for you?

Meanwhile in the Senate they had pomp and circumstance with little problems unlike the house.

So this is the way the Republicans are going to govern in the lower house. Okay.

Let's take a look at some of these things shall we. We have had the worst meltdown of an airline happening then what is the first thing the Republicans want to do? Defund the IRS.

We have had the worst storms in California in a long time we recently had tornadoes in the Midwest and mother nature is not through with us so instead of let's say taking a look at how to improve FEMA and making it easier but as we all trust in God we need to verify perhaps by putting in modern computing capability to serve those people that are devastated by nature? Instead what is likely to happen oh yeah Hunter biden's computer that will really really help people in Alabama Mississippi Arkansas you know the states that take more money from California and New York then they deliver.

Let's keep going shall we.

Why would people want to move out to Nevada Arizona and New Mexico? Anybody got any ideas? How about climate temperature.

temperature (equal to 95°F at 100% humidity or 115°F at 50% humidity) was the maximum a human could endure before they could no longer adequately regulate their body temperature, which would potentially cause heat stroke or death over a prolonged exposure.

I don't think that's going to be on the far rights agenda in the house. However if you look at demographics you will see the problem. A five letter word, water.

What happens when the Colorado River is unable to supply water to the various states that depend upon it? What happens when the water in the underground reservoirs dropped to nothing? There are at least five states in play for Colorado River water.

There is one particular City that is really dependent on water, Las Vegas. For those new freshmen Republican congressman who are unfamiliar, Las Vegas was born out of the mafia and before that Las Vegas was nothing but desert. Why? Because of water

So let's see what the next thing the Republican house does oh yeah impeach Joe Biden.

That will really help the states who are in danger of Colorado River drying up.

So there you have it folks you voted Republicans for the house. House Republicans who tried three times to elect a speaker of the House. On the other side of the aisle you have the house Democrats who are totally united.

So to those Republican voters and to those Republican donors good luck

[aaronsmithtumbler]

Completed Chapter 14 Rewrite

I was awake and something was horribly wrong.

I was in a jail cell, but that wasn't what was horribly wrong. That was just a sort of encrustation of legible wrongness on top of a deeper wrongness still unplumbed, like a tiny black spot that reveals a man dying of melanoma. The wrongness was deeper and more spiritual. It surrounded and confounded me.

Hasidic legend describes a time Rabbis Zusya and Elimelech were thrown in jail. There was a disgusting bucket full of waste, and the whole cell stank. Rabbi Elimelech started crying. Rabbi Zusya asked what was wrong. Rabbi Elimelech explained that Jewish law prohibits prayer in a disgusting place, and so he could not follow the commandment to pray every morning. Rabbi Zusya pointed out that he was still following the commandment not to pray in a disgusting place, so overall he was coming out even in number-of-commandments-followed. In fact he was getting to follow a new commandment he had never followed before, and surely this brought him even closer to God. Rabbi Elimelech was delighted, and began singing and dancing in joy. Rabbi Zusya joined in, and soon all the prisoners were singing and dancing. The warden came and asked what was going on, and the inmates weren't totally sure except that the rabbis seemed very happy about the bucket of disgusting waste. The spiteful warden said that fine, then they couldn't have the wastebucket, and took it away.

"There!" Zusya told Elimelech. "Now you can pray!"

There was something terribly wrong, worse than the stench the rabbis dealt with. I didn't feel like it was inappropriate to pray; I felt like prayer <i>wouldn't work</i>, like God was somehow very far away and beyond my reach and neither praying or not-praying would bring me closer to Him. I felt hopeless, not because I was without hope, but because something was actively pumping hopelessness into me.

I was dressed in my normal clothes, but I was wearing a ball gag. A reasonable precaution; otherwise I would have spoken the Vanishing Name and been out of there. I lay on a bare cot. My cell had no bars. It had a door, locked, with a small window in it. I went to the window, looked out, saw a hallway. Turned the knob, not expecting anything, didn't get anything, lay back down.

[Ana, are you there? Where are you?]

There was nothing. Either Ana was far away, or distracted, or asleep, or – I couldn’t make myself think “dead”. I would have felt it if she died. That, I told myself, is definitely how kabbalistic marriages work.

So I knocked on the door to my cell. A few seconds later, the doorknob turned and an armed guard looked me over.

"Mr. Smith-Teller," said one of them. I winced internally. I mean, I suppose if they didn’t know my name now it wouldn’t have taken them too much longer to find it out, but it still hurt. Kabbalists are notoriously fussy about who knows their true name, it's a sort of placebomantic disadvantage, a vague way of letting someone else have power over you. "We're sorry about the gag, but we're sure you understand."

I made some hand motions. I was trying to convey something like "WHY IS EVERYTHING HORRIBLY WRONG?", but I was used to dealing with Ana, where I have telepathy to help me. In this case, I had nothing but context. Luckily, it seemed like context was enough.

"Director Bentham wants to speak to you," he finally said. "His presence...makes people uncomfortable."

Even if you're nowhere near him? Uncomfortable like you're surrounded by an impenetrable field of hopelessness? The moment this gag was off, I was going to have so many questions.

The guard cuffed me and escorted me down the corridor. I didn't know where I was, but it seemed big. Hard to hide. I knew UNSONG arrested people, I knew that they put you in prison for a long time if you used Names without a license, but I’d always heard they used the normal federal prisons. The idea of a secret UNSONG black site somewhere sounded like it was out of Valerie’s paranoid anti-government screeds. If no one had ever revealed the existence of this place before, that meant either that they were very good with the Amnestic Name, or else no one had ever gotten out of here before. I tried to remember exactly how effective the Amnestic Name was and ironically came up blank. And what about the Confounding Name? I couldn’t remember.

The facility wasn’t small, either. We walked through poorly-lit corridor after poorly-lit corridor. I tried to look for other prisoners, references to the location, even doors with signs on them, but all I spotted were a couple of locked rooms with the UNSONG seal on the front. An aleph superimposed on the United Nations globe, and around it, the name “United Nations Subcommittee On Names of God” and the motto “I TEGO ARCANA DEI”. Begone, I hide the secrets of God. There were deep kabbalistic depths in that phrase, but I didn’t have the energy to think about them, because something was horribly wrong.

We came to a room. A conference room, it looked like. The guard motioned me to sit down, then cuffed me to the chair. The sense that something was horribly wrong got stronger. The guard could feel it too. I could tell. The dissonance reached a crescendo, like some sort of reverse symphony.

The door swung open.

How can I describe Asher Bentham?

He was both very beautiful and very ugly. Every detail of his face was perfectly sculpted and the gestalt still looked hideous. His voice had a bizarre effect like a thirty-foot-tall ogre trying to speak reassuringly without realizing that this conflicted with his choice to be a thirty-foot-tall ogre. I am a master of several languages, renowned for my skill with words. The only one I can cough up to accurately describe Asher Bentham is "bad". The most reassuring thought I could muster was that my hands were cuffed to the chair so there was no way for him to offer me a handshake and I wasn't going to have to touch him.

When the President, Secretary-General, and Comet King had come together to found UNSONG, leadership of the fledgling bureaucracy had gone to a elderly Brazilian politician with a hands-off approach. He’d gone after the biggest gangs and most blatant serial abusers of Names, talking about “decapitation strikes” against networks of large-scale pirates. The policy was very popular – everyone agreed that having the Mafia in on the Name business was a bad idea – and very worthless, because most unauthorized Name use was by ordinary non-Mafia people who talked to each other online.

He had died in 2002; Bentham had succeeded him. After the fall of the Presidency, Bentham had somehow manipulated the warring states' committments to abide by UNSONG regulations into a de facto replacement of the executive branch of the Untied States. A thousand conspiracy theories about the United Nations taking over the US had been suddenly vindicated.

Since the sky cracked, we have lived in a world of inhuman powers. The Lady of Los Angeles is a Watcher. The Comet King was the Messiah. The Other King is a necromancer. Various angels and demons have intruded into our history, left their mark, and returned beyond the veil. Now I had learned that the arch-manipulative head of UNSONG was something other than human. I was less surprised by the revelation than dumbfounded at the sheer magnitude of the non-humanity confronting me.

"Mr. Smith-Teller," he said. Fuck people knowing my true name, fuck it so much. Any hope that they were just annoyed at Valerie’s secret meetings was gone. This was the Director-General. The head of UNSONG. If he was involved, they thought this was the most important thing happening in the world at this moment. Which of course it was. They knew all about the Vital Name and everything it could do, and it had gone straight to the top. Okay. So I was really, really doomed.

“I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” He really did sound sorry. I changed my assessment of Bentham from "trying to intimidate me" to "trying as hard as he could not to intimidate me, and it just wasn't enough", and shuddered. “I understand you are associated with Singer groups who have a dim view of UNSONG. You’re probably laboring under the misapprehension that I am here to hurt you. As difficult as this may be to believe, we’re on the same side. I’m going to take your gag out. If you start speaking a Name, I’m afraid we’ll have you unconscious before you finish the second syllable, and the gag will go back in. I’m sure you can imagine the reasons we have these precautions. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded.

His face, I decided, was actually quite beautiful, except for the eyes. The eyes looked like they came from one of those weird nightjar birds whose eyes are in the wrong place and don’t even look real.

"As you can tell," he said, "we're taking this situation very seriously. The Keller-Stern Act of 1988 states that anyone who discovers a Divine Name of potential military value is legally obligated to report it to UNSONG in exchange for fair monetary compensation. Most people aren’t aware of the Act, and we have no interest in punishing them for refusing to follow a law they never heard of. But now you know. So, Mr. Smith-Teller, and please tell me the truth, do you know any Names that might be covered under the law?"

Jewish law permits lying for the greater good. According to the Talmud, even Heaven is not always truthful. Rabbi Gamliel kept his classes small. Later Rabbi Elazar took over the academy and expanded classes; hundreds of new students flooded in. Rabbi Gamliel felt guilty that he had kept out so many bright scholars, but God sent him a vision of beautiful barrels full of ashes, indicating that the new students were no good anyway. The Talmud explains that the new students were actually fine; God was just trying to cheer up Rabbi Gamliel. I had no moral qualms about lying to Asher Bentham. I just wasn't sure it was possible.

“No,” I said. “I don’t know any such Name.”

And it was the honest truth. Because I had forgotten the Name. Because I was a moron. I could have told him more, but he terrified me, and the truth – that I’d known the Vital Name and forgotten it – would be neither believable nor welcome. And part of me was desperately hoping that if I said nothing, he would go away, the wrongness would end, and I would just be in a perfectly normal government black site and everything would be fine.

“Did you speak a Name that allowed you to find the location of the Moon?”

“I did,” I said.

“How did you learn that Name?”

Every fiber of my body tensed at her oppressive closeness. It was a fair question. I had no way out this time. Either tell her what had happened, or lie like a rug and see exactly what those nightjar eyes could do.

I ran through a host of scenarios. I tell the Director-General that I knew the Name and forgot it. He doesn’t believe me and tries to torture it out of me. He doesn’t believe me and tries to torture the Name out of Ana. He does believe me and tries to dissect my brain to get it. He goes to an error correction specialist, fixes the Name, and takes over the world, and I’m still alive to see it.

I am not a hero. I’ve been in one fight, but only because I was drunk, and I ended up with two black eyes. The only thing I’ve ever been good at is studying things and comparing them and trying to understand them.

But the sages of old weren’t typical heroes either, and they were constantly breaking out of prison by one miracle or another. Rabbi Meir convinced a Roman prison guard to free his friend by reassuring him that if anyone tried to punish his disobedience, he could say “God of Meir, help me!” and God would keep him from harm; when his commander tried to hang him for his role in the escape, the guard cried “God of Meir, help me!”, the rope broke, and he managed to run away to safety. When a whole Roman legion arrived to arrest the great translator Onkelos, he preached to them in Latin about the symbolism of the mezuzah, and the whole legion converted to Judaism on the spot. And when the Romans arrested Rabbi Eleazar ben Perata on five charges, God helped him craft a plausible alibi for each; when the plausible alibis didn’t work, the prophet Elijah appeared at the end of the trial, lifted up the prosecutor, and threw him out of the courtroom so hard that he landed five hundred miles away. I think I mentioned that the Talmud is kind of crazy.

So miraculously breaking out of prison is the sort of thing kabbalists are expected to be able to do, and I daydream a lot, and a long time ago I had come up with a fantasy about the sort of thing I would do if I were ever trapped in a prison, and this was by far the stupidest thing I had ever done, but something was terribly wrong and I needed to get out of here.

"I was on drugs and I had a prophetic vision," I said.

Ever since the sky cracked, drugs had gotten really weird. The ones whose names were also Hebrew words were the weirdest. MDA and its cousin MDMA gave mystical knowledge, probably because mem-dalet-ayin was madda, "knowledge", (see 2 Chronicles 1:10). The effects of LSD were more blatantly divine, since lamed-shin-dalet was leshadi, "strength" (see Psalms 32:4), and the pronounced consonants in El Shaddai ("God Almighty") to boot. The ones without three letter names were less predictable, with peyote being a demonic conduit and the rest having variable effects. I decided to go with LSD as the most likely source of divine revelation.

"Drugs always attracted me," I said. I thought for a second, and continued. "So I got some LSD from a friend and tried it out. That was a bad idea, I admit."

I suspected Asher knew I was lying. I was banking on him waiting to see exactly what lie I was going to tell, hoping that I would slip up somewhere in my story. If he would just let me keep going for twenty-seven more sentences, I was in the clear.

"Zelda was the name of the friend who sold it to me," I said, awkwardly, because I couldn't think of any other way to start a sentence with Z. "My hope was we would do it together, but she bailed out at the last second."

That was DST and ZM. Twenty-five consonants to go. I was afraid, which was good, because it let me pretend that my fear was making it hard to talk, whereas in fact I was working out how to start my sentences with the right letter.

"Regular LSD is supposed to just give you a taste of divinity. She gave me something else, I'm not sure. She didn't tell me, but it must be true. No way to know now."

DASAT-ZAM-RUSH-SHAN.

"So I had taken the drug, when I started feeling weird. Very weird. Regular LSD doesn't do that. LSD is supposed to be gentle. Some kind of angelic entity was standing in front of me. Questionably angelic. Not human. Deep-voiced. Like you would expect an angel to be."

Asher Bentham must have thought I was the least fluent, worst storyteller in the country. I couldn't read his face at all. Was he confused? Was he suspicious. No time to think about that. I'd gotten DASAT-ZAM-RUSH-SHAN-SEVER-LAS-KYON-DAL. Next letter was aleph.

"All of the things you hear about angels, the beautiful wings and the golden eyes. They don't prepare you. Not a bit. To see something like that. Right away I knew it had a message for me. You couldn't imagine what it was like."

DASAT-ZAM-RUSH-SHAN-SEVER-LAS-KYON-DAL-ATHEN-TRY. All I needed was KOPHU-LI-MAR-TAG. How was I going to bring a K in?

"Kind of quietly, it spoke to me. Phenomenal voice. 'Listen', it told me. Revealed secret names. To grant me power over the heavens and earth."

Bentham was getting impatient. "What names?" he asked. "The one you used to find the moon?"

I didn't know how to answer, but it didn't matter. He thought I had been telling him a story, but I hadn't been. I'd been forging a notarikon. The same way the kabbalists had expanded AGLA into "atah gibor le'olam A-----". Any notarikon for a divine Name is itself equivalent to that Name. A sentence-by-sentence notarikon was completely valid. There was even one in Proverbs 31:10-31, for the Hebrew alphabet as a whole. But nobody had taken the obvious next step and used it to speak a Name covertly. Well, I was going to do it. I only had one letter left: a gimel.

I realized that God had delivered Asher into my hands. The rest had been my artifice; this part was pure divine inspiration.

"Goodbye, Asher Bentham," I said, and finished the notarikon.

Don’t use the Vanishing Name, I had said during choir practice, unless you are in a situation where it is absolutely vital to your well-being and continued survival that you be accosted by a different band of hooligans than the ones who are currently accosting you. Right now, being accosted by a different band of hooligans was my heart’s fondest and most desperate desire.

As Director-General Asher Bentham strained to make sense of my poorly-narrated story, I disappeared from right in front of his face.

[kiryasjoelvillage]

undefined

About Kiryas Joel Village

Kiryas Joel Village and allied religious groups violate the Constitution and take control of federal and state courts.

This site was opened to expose the corrupted and fraudulent actions of the religiously controlled Kiryas Joel Village, NY. Together with other religious groups, the leaders of the KJ Village control in a mafia-like manner, often under color of law, how community constituents must behave and block the freedoms of whomever they deem problematic and a threat to their mafia-control system.

The KJ Village has a history of harassing people in the community and abusing its political power to get what they want—regardless of whose rights they trample on—in a way that no other city in this country has ever done. The village and allied religious groups are involved in orchestrated powerful and systemic church and state violations, civil rights violations, violating free speech and freedom of religion, taking control of state and federal courts, and systemic terror against those deemed a problem.

https://web.facebook.com/Adult-Protective-Services-104393718822061

This site and blog is open to anyone, and as the Village and other religious groups continue in the corrupt manner, this site will serve to expose their fraud. Join the fight to stop this abuse of political power.

This federal action was brought by a resident in this Hasidic, ultra-Orthodox, close-knit community of KJ Village, who became a terror victim once he spoke out against criminal actions done under false religious pretenses.

In 2010, he got involved in a campaign to stop forced divorces that have been taking place through the use of criminal kidnappings within the community. Threatened by the campaign, some people aligned with the mafia religious groups in the community tried to silence him by constantly terrorizing and intimidating him. Officials from Orange County and others outside the community where then joined in their campaign to stop him.

After protracted terror and civil rights violations, in which county officials had played along to fraudulently facilitate these violations under color of law, he filed a lawsuit in federal court against his terrorizers, including the KJ Village and Orange County seeking protection and justice.

Subsequently the harassment and intimidation picked up with increased fervor and he soon found himself extremely terrorized, expelled from the Village, and homeless. His family was broken up and his children were taken from him—all in a plot to block his access to courts and stop his involvement in the religious campaign.

The religious groups and the mafia behind this terror in conjunction with the KJ Village then decided to use their powerful connections and political influence to conspire with the County Attorney as well as the other attorneys involved to contact the federal judge presiding over the case, Judge Briccetti, and convince him to back off and turn a blind eye, in the same manner they did with the State Judge.

Not only did Judge Briccetti stop performing his role as a neutral judge, but, acting under the influence of the KJ Village, he also became a participant in furthering the object of the conspiracy. The victim has now brought another lawsuit in federal court to set aside Judge Briccetti’s actions as it was induced by fraud.

https://web.facebook.com/Adult-Protective-Services-104393718822061

https://kjmafia.com/

https://www.facebook.com/754703724546194/posts/5177848448898344/?sfnsn=mo

[aion-rsa]

The Many Saints of Newark: Undercover Cop Talks About Infiltrating The Real Sopranos

https://ift.tt/3D7KVn1

The Many Saints of Newark has once again brought the crime family at the center of The Sopranos into the spotlight. But Giovanni Rocco had eyes on them for years. Under the alias of “Giovanni Gatto,” the New Jersey police officer was at the center of Operation Charlie Horse, a federal undercover task force that busted a boss and nine crewmembers of New Jersey’s DeCavalcante family, which The Sopranos’ DiMeo family is based on. Giovanni’s Ring: My Life Inside the Real Sopranos, co-written with Douglas Schofield, tells the inside story.

The DeCavalcante family is much more historically embedded in the mob than most people know, going back to the earliest days of the Black Hand and Mafia in America. Giovanni spent nearly three years undercover working his way into the hierarchy. The assignment ended when he was ordered by capo Charlie “the Hat” Stango to hit Luigi “the Dog” Oliveri, a made man, in March 2015.

Giovani turned his house into a fortress for months after the mob takedown. He still lives under the assumed name “Giovanni Rocco” for fear of reprisals against him or his family. Giovanni surfaced to speak with Den of Geek about the crimes, misdemeanors, and the latter-day saints of Newark.

Den of Geek: What years were you in Operation Charlie Horse?

Giovanni Rocco: That was 2012 to 2015.

What was the mob climate like at the time?

Active, it was as active as it’s ever been in New Jersey, and especially with the DeCavalcante, they were as active as they’ve ever been.

On The Sopranos, Carmine Lupertazzi says “Dons don’t wear shorts.” But you have capos having meetings at a pool in Vegas. What’s happening with this thing?

Charlie [Stango, a DeCavalcante family caporegime] had left me a message early on, when I first was introduced to him, and he decided he was going to start talking to me. And abruptly that ended. He had a nightmare, and that nightmare sparked him to turn around and leave me a voicemail saying, “Hey, don’t ever call me back, whatever you’re doing, if it’s illegal, if you’re doing something with my nephew, I want nothing to do with it.”

Knowing Charlie’s criminal history, he was a murderer, he was on parole for murder at the time, he was a gangster’s gangster. That was a very clear message he sent. So, maybe a month, I didn’t have any conversations with him, and I just maintained my criminal activity in the street. He kept his finger on my pulse by asking the Gambinos and people within the DeCavs to check on me, see what I was still doing.

Once he found out that I was still making money in the street, and everybody else was profiting from my actions and our actions together, he wanted back in, because a gangster’s thing is greed, right? Greed drives the underworld. So, he called me out to Vegas, and he wanted me to fly out to his house in Nevada, and he lived right outside the Strip, maybe 20 minutes. That’s why we were in the pool, because he was so suspicious of me at the time. We took off our shirts, we went swimming in the pool, and then once he saw, I guess he was comfortable thinking, “Okay, he can’t possibly be wearing a wire.”

You brought up the nightmare, is there a lot of superstition in the families?

It’s more intuition than superstition, I think. Superstition doesn’t play too many parts, but a guy has his intuition and he usually trusts his gut. And in that world, in the mafia world, that can get you killed in a minute. If I meet you, Tony, and we go out, things are great, then all of a sudden I get this bad feeling about you, now I got this gut feeling you’re not kosher, I can’t shake it. I’ve convinced myself that I don’t like you. And then that really drives the train.

Old school gangsters like Charlie, if they decide that you’re no good to them anymore, you know what I mean, “I’d rather cut my investment, I don’t feel right about this, just get rid of them.” Later on in the book, when I tell the story about the murder, originally it was two people that they wanted me to kill, Luigi at the end. I grew up in this life, I didn’t grow up in a gangster’s life but I was around gangsters enough in my neighborhood that I knew how it worked, and I knew how these guys were a hair trigger. I realized once they gave me the deed to kill Louie, if I didn’t do it fast enough, maybe they’ll look at me as weak, and maybe they’d decide not to do it.

Now, if they changed their mind and they pull the hit, well, what would you do? You’d get rid of me. The administration doesn’t want it getting out there that they’re trying to walk their guys. Because Louie was a made guy in the family at that time. And you get rid of all the evidence. And I was part of that evidence.

If you had done Louie, would that have been your button?

That would have been my button. It was explained to me later on. I even called Charlie out, a few times, I had said to Charlie, for evidentiary purposes, “Well, listen, if I do this, I kill this guy, yeah, that’s a good thing for the family, you all want this, this is what you want, but how does that leave me? I’m a nobody.” At that point in our relationship, he became offended, “What do you mean you’re a nobody? Don’t talk about yourself like that.” “Well, I don’t mean that, Charlie, where does this leave me with everybody? They’re going to come gunning for me, I’m killing a made guy in this family. I’m not a made guy.”

Read more

TV

The Sopranos Didn’t Terminate Robert Patrick, They Busted Him Out

By Tony Sokol

Movies

How The Many Saints of Newark Almost Brought Carmela Soprano Back

By Alec Bojalad and 1 other

And he would get mad, he’d start yelling, “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re with me. You be the man you were born to be, you do what I tell you to do, and don’t worry about it. There’s going to be 50 guys waiting in line to pin medals on your chest.” 

Eventually, he explained to me that the administration was changing hands, a new boss was coming in. It was most likely going to be Charlie “Big Ears” Majuri, who was a longtime member of the family, and he was going to take the seat from John Riggi, who was an elder gentleman, he was a longtime boss for the DeCavs. In November of that year, Charlie was going to get up from capo, possibly, to underboss, and that’s when he explained to me, he pointed to me in his house and said, “You’ll get up and you’ll get made as well” in November, when he was off parole.

I would have been the first to do that, wear that hat. So many came before me, Joe Pistone and Jack Garcia, we all tried to get that. But you can’t let your emotions get into it.

Getting to that point, almost being made, is there a temptation to go to the other side?

For me? No, there was never a temptation for me to go to the other side, because I knew how I lived, I lived a good life. My mother and father worked very hard to provide for us as kids, and they provided me with great morals, and that’s why I went as far as I did in my law enforcement career, that’s why I picked to be a good guy, I didn’t want to be a bad guy.

But it’s tough, when these guys are telling you that they love you, in the Italian culture, which was very familiar to me, and the bond of family is what they portray themselves to be, the gangsters. I identified with that side of it, I identified with their family, that’s why I clicked with their family so much, that’s why they found me, because I was just like one of them. But at this point in my career, I was a mature undercover. So, I was never drawn to their life or their money.

Where do you get 3,000 pills of ecstasy?

You can get them anywhere. I mean, in my career, who have I bought them from as an undercover? We’ve gotten them from Mexico, we’ve gotten them from China, we’ve gotten them from Hasidic Jews in New York. I mean, back in the day, in the 90s, they controlled a lot of the ecstasy coming in. Like any other narcotics industry, it’s out there, you just got to find it.

What are some of the scams that are working today?

Well, the scam changes, but the way they do it doesn’t change. In my neighborhood, everybody, today, it’s still the joke, “Oh, it fell off the back of a truck.” Well, those things still happen. Right? You look at it, and again, we’re talking union sites or construction sites. Now, Louie, I was giving him Timberland boots, and he might’ve been selling those Timberlands and North Face jackets, or whatever it is, materials that I’ve given him, he might be bringing them to a construction site, selling them, and he’s making his piece on it.

You look at everything. Even Bitcoin, they’ll always have a way to make money. Cell phones, technology, technology changes. Back in the day it was penny stock investments. Now it’s Bitcoin. They’ll figure out a way. They’ll massage it and they’ll figure out a way to make money on it, somehow, some way, that never dies.

When I was coming home from The Many Saints of Newark screening, there was a guy selling swag between subway cars.

That doesn’t change. And that guy gets a piece, and the next guy gets a piece, whoever he got it from. You’re dealing with the guy on the street level, where his piece is so small, but he’s just trying to survive, right? But the guys like me who brought it in by the truckload, or if we hijack something, if I brought a container of something in, or they brought a container, you make a bigger piece. If I get it right out of the container, I’m making a little bit more money on the guy that’s on a subway trying to sell it, you know?

You headed a street crew, is doing something like that easier because you had the police and bureau information coming at you?

No, I think it was a little bit harder. We never intended it to go that far into the family. Charlie put me in a specific construction company in New Jersey, because the guy needed help. Charlie put me there as protection. That’s how Charlie tested me. And then as word got back that I was doing a good job representing him, he got to the point where one day he called me up, and he was like, “Well, my son, Anthony could use a job, so get him driving a dump truck for the construction company.” And I did. And then eventually Charlie was like, “You know what? I’m going to put Anthony under you.” And I was taken aback by it. “Well, what do you mean? Number one, what do you mean by putting him under me?” You know?

And I made him explain those things. Because I never came into this saying that I was an expert on organized crime or I knew that life. I might’ve been familiar with some things from watching TV and what I heard as a kid, but I always made it known, I grew up in an outlaw biker culture. I didn’t grow up in an Italian culture like these guys did. So, there were a lot of questions I had from Charlie along the way. What do you mean you’re putting him under me? “Well, what do you think I’m doing here, Giovanni, I’m building a crew with you. I’m building a crew for you. You’re going to lead these guys. You’re driving this ship. You’re steering the ship.”

When I was young, I was a laborer and some jobs were mobbed up. Do you think those jobs were on the radar, could there be one of you sitting outside the carpenters’ shanty?

Could there have been somebody in my family?

No, a cop.

Sure. I mean, yeah. I worked construction on the side as a young cop when I was working narcotics in the beginning of my career. I would work job sites, if I wanted to infiltrate as an undercover, if anybody thought to infiltrate a union. But I don’t think they want to infiltrate the union. They want to infiltrate the crimes that are being committed in the unions. Yeah, that could have been easily done. If we had the cooperation of, let’s say your job site, if I knew there was a guy, we were looking for him, he might ask your job site, “Hey, can I put an undercover in there to look for this guy who’s wanted?” Not in your crew, but in the general area. You could easily infiltrate them. What goes on in the unions still goes on today. The docks in New Jersey and New York, and the ports, anywhere there’s a port job, there’s so much money involved there that the Mafia still has a stronghold on those places.

The Colombo family just got taken down on unions, two weeks ago, I think.

Yeah. And it’s funny, right? They say that the mob has died. The mob’s a dying breed, the mob is this, the mob is that. The mob has never gone away. The mob will never go away, because where there’s moments of social discord like there is today, that’s what the Mafia and the underworld in general feed on. That’s when they become their strongest.

Do you still look over your shoulder, and what precautions do you have to take?

I always look over my shoulder. I’ve always been hypervigilant from the minute I came on the job anyway. I was taught to do that. I take every precaution, even calling you and contacting you, all we had to go through to do that. Yeah. I’m always hypervigilant. My head is always on a swivel. I’m always aware of my surroundings. Things that I did operationally, situational awareness. I try to stay three steps ahead. Because you never know.

What did The Sopranos get right, and what does Donnie Brasco get wrong?

What I wish people would see is, now that I’m in the field of helping first responders and mental health, the message behind The Sopranos was: if you really look at what Tony does every episode, he went and saw his therapist, right? It was so about mental health and him growing up in organized crime. But at the same time, what did organized crime mean to him? How was he dealing with it? His background and how he was forced to grow up. And if you look at it from the mental health point, the two mirror each other, really.

You’re looking at law enforcement, you look at the underworld, all these guys have that persona of a man’s man. “I don’t ask for help, only weak people ask for help,” which is not the case. The Sopranos got that right. I think more people, after watching The Sopranos, if they were struggling with mental health, Tony brought that to the surface, with the Dr. Melfi episodes, the battles of delusion he had and all those things.

I know David Chase says that, and I’ll speak to what he says, The Sopranos is not based on the DeCavalcante family, but there’s so many similarities. Even the day I went on record, as I’m meeting the underboss in the meat market that we were in, it was just like Satriale’s in The Sopranos. And I couldn’t help but think, “I feel like I’m in a Sopranos episode, I feel like I’m going to get dragged into the basement.” I didn’t like the way The Sopranos portrayed Italian culture. They’re not that aggressive.

Joe Pistone, I can’t say there’s much he got wrong. I think in the end, Joe and I, and all of us undercovers, the one thing they got wrong was we didn’t get the thanks and the praise that we needed to get from our FBI counterparts. Joe got a check. I don’t know what Jack Garcia got. And then I got relocated. I’m grateful for the protection that they give me and provide to me.

But in the end, it’s almost as if you feel you did something wrong, because you got unplugged and you had to retire. A lot of people think there’s a lot of glory in it, but there’s not.

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Giovanni’s Ring: My Life Inside the Real Sopranos is available now. The Many Saints of Newark premieres in theaters and on HBO Max on Friday, Oct. 1.

The post The Many Saints of Newark: Undercover Cop Talks About Infiltrating The Real Sopranos appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3FfjEkt

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Are Hasidic Jews The New Mafia In The Hudson Valley Of New York?

Hasidic Jews In New York Have Developed A Mafia Thug Mentality And They’re Not Afraid To Flaunt It

I defended Hasidic Jews in New York several years ago against what I perceived as anti-Semitism. As a result, I became a victim of a smear campaign by the cryptic Nazi group, United Monroe. The smear campaign only ended when I successfully sued one of their members for defamation. 

Since…

[davidfostercomedyblog]

Can my Dad & my Wife Become Friends in Heaven?

Before Jillian I’d never dated a white girl. I’d dated half white girls and Asian girls, plenty of blacks or Hispanics, but I just never so much dug “my own kind.” I don’t think I had a fetish, as fetishes tend to be more specific in preference, which apparently didn’t describe me. If anything, I suppose I had an anti-fetish.

Fools indiscriminately assign pathological etiologies to personal choices: All comedians must be on stage doing the (arguably) bravest and most difficult thing in the world because of their desperate need for attention, their weakness, ironically. And those who date outside their race are guilty of a fetish indicative of some unresolved issues. Instead, I always thought my preference was more superficial, in the honorable way. I like dark hair and dark skin. Even in elementary school (before I had many black/Hispanic classmates) my first crush was a darker Italian and Jewish girl. Surely it’s no coincidence that this also describes my final crush, Jillian.

My taste in girls never bothered my parents. Mom’s Jewish, and of course would have loved nothing more than a Jewish daughter in law, but this was not mutually exclusive to her being not a racist asshole. Mom was cool, as was Dad, who was surely more interested in cup size than skin color. Still, when Jillian and I first started dating I felt compelled to keep it a secret, ironically.

Jillian’s mostly Italian but her last name is Cohen and she is… wait for it… a doctor.A Jewish doctor! One night after our third date, I met my friend Ferrian, a fellow non-practicing Semite, for dinner. I told her about Jillian and how I was smitten, and without missing a beat Ferrian blurted out: “You can’t tell your mom!”

She understood what I did, that I couldn’t possibly get Mom’s hopes up to the height of all heights – a Jewish doctor – and risk them being shot down if it didn’t work out. It had to remain a secret, at least until we were official (my brother and I jokingly wondered if I could keep it a secret until the wedding, then reveal Jillian’s race and profession at the reception, at which point Mom’s body would blast off into outer space).

About a month after Jillian and I exchanged “I love you’s” my father requested a lunch date before his upcoming trip to (visit my sister in) Arizona. Throughout our meal it was on the tip of my tongue! I wanted to tell him, especially because Dad wasn’t even the one who would be so heart broken if the relationship hypothetically ended. But Dad was associated with Mom, and as a former juvenile criminal I’m self-conditioned to err on the side of secrecy, even when it seems excessive. Plus, the Yankees were in the thick of the ALCS versus Houston so we had plenty else to talk about. After lunch we hugged and kissed goodbye, but even as I walked down the block to the train I shook my head. Something didn’t feel right about it.

The next week I confessed my secret to Mom and realized I’d underestimated just how cool she is. “I’m dating someone I met at the doctor’s office,” I told her.

“Oh, really?” she asked. “One of the nurses?”

“No. One of the doctors,” I said.  

Mom’s lips pursed together and sprayed saliva in laughter. “Really?! Good, honey. That’s good.” It was as if she was mocking me.

“Next you’re gonna tell me she’s Jewish,” she joked.

“She’s Jewish.”

Mom’s body thrusted forward and back as she practically fell over. She wasn’t impressed. She didn’t have her hopes up. Of course she was happy, but mostly she figured it was adorable, possibly frivolous and insignificant. Because I was so in love I forgot that I was 39 and my mother had had a front row seat to my dating life that had been so fickle and mutable for 25 years. Jewish doctor or not, Mom wasn’t attached to any results. She was the Buddha.

The following weekend Dad returned from Arizona and suddenly had to go to the hospital. After several similar episodes his heart finally gave out, and on October 15, 2017 he passed away. A few days later the Yankees lost the ALCS.

Jillian had to meet my mom and my sister, cousins and aunts, uncles, and the many extended Corleone families of Mom’s New Jersey Jewish mafia all for the first time at Dad’s funeral in Brooklyn. How well she handled it was a testament to her character. She would see many of them all again at our wedding, also in Brooklyn.

I still cry all the time when I talk about my dad. I was so sorry he didn’t get to meet Jillian, sorry that he didn’t get to know her, nor she him. They’re both such wonderful people, and my sadness around this missed opportunity has more than once been the impetus to new tears.  He would have loved her, and not just for her cup size.

More than once I’ve been thinking about Dad while sitting with my now bride, enjoying her angelic energy and easy going nature and felt compelled to blurt out: “My dad would have loved you.”

“Aww, I would have loved him too,” she always says, followed by: “I feel like I do love him – even though I never met him… it doesn’t feel that way.”

I know what she means and maybe girls are just generally better at this than guys, as my mind insists on it being untrue. “You don’t know him,” I think. “You didn’t know him,” and it isn’t out of anger, but just disappointment with reality. Sometimes – often times – there’s no oneto blame.

At our wedding my older brother pulled me aside and commented: “Dude… Dad would’ve loved her. She’s great. He really would have loved her.”

A few hours later came the only impromptu speech of our (small) reception. The best man and bride’s maid had finished theirs’, and my (Leo) older sister refused to be silenced. She stood up and brilliantly delivered an off-book, short and sweet welcoming of Jillian to the family, citing as her main point how much our father would have loved her. Were it not for the wine, my Y chromosome and the crowded party I definitely would have lost it. I knew she hadn’t overheard my brother and I talking earlier. We just all had the same thought.

I don’t know if I believe in Heaven or an afterlife or reincarnation, though I suppose I do err on that side. I know I’m as far from being Atheist as I am from Hasidic Jew. If there is a Heaven I imagine Jillian and Dad will one day become friends, and that makes me happy, for both of them. Dad’s sense of humor will be back to what it was before his last decade and he’ll make her belly laugh the way I’m able to on most of my good days. His sentimental, sensitive side will be so warmed my Jillian’s sweetness and softness. He’ll be affectionate with her, as he always was with all of us, rubbing the top of our heads, screwing up our hair and occasionally squeezing our shoulders or slapping our thighs until it hurt. Slap your own thigh, old man, get the hell outta here! He’ll do the same to her and she’ll probably be too nice to scold him for it… until they become really close, at which point she will. Trust me.

Dad was a great conversationalist before life got too difficult, and he’ll be fascinated to pick the brain of an integrative medicine doctor. He knew how to inquire. He asked great questions because they came from a place of genuine curiosity. Dad was a Manhattan ad executive in the 1960’s and 70’s. He was a player in a multi-layered business with lots of energy and moving parts. He understood how dynamic environments operated and in turn got excited to learn about professionals in other endeavors. He’ll be that much more excited to learn about the one inhabited by his amazing daughter in law.

For our wedding Jillian and I scouted venues in Jersey, Westchester and all five boroughs, but I suppose it wasn’t a coincidence that we ended up getting married in Brooklyn, the same borough where Dad is buried. I can surely put aside any of my own agnosticism to know for sure that Dad was there with us watching that day (would he have made the commute to Westchester?). Maybe he helped give us the beautiful weather to facilitate our dream of a ceremony in the park (the day before was a wash-out shit show). Maybe it was him speaking through my brother and sister, respectively, just letting me/us know of his presence and approval. Maybe there is a Heaven or something like it somewhere, and there’s no maybe as to whether Dad and Jillian will be friends. They will.

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THE 1ST VHS ONLY SHORT FILM I DIRECT,PRODUCE AND CREATE STARRING ME WHERE I PORTRAY A HALF MEXICAN HALF IRISH HASIDIC JEWISH GOD PRAISER SENT BY THE RUSSIAN MAFIA TO ASSASSINATE PEOPLE WHICH IRONICALLY LIVE IN THE SAME APARTMENT BUILDING AS ME IN RUSSIA,MY CHARACTER IS NAMED ‘AT LEAST 110′,THE SHORT FILM IS NAMED:ADMISSION TO SLOWING DOWN.

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‼️‼️‼️WHO CREATED, FINANCED AND ENCOURAGED SLAVERY ??

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Head of FBI for decades and Islam Masonic connection!

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🚨HIDDEN HISTORY: On February 20, 1939, a Nazi rally took place at the largest stage in America, the Madison Square Garden, organized by the German American Bund.

This video speaks volumes on the amount of history that has been hidden from the American people. Our nation has been notorious for playing both sides. 🇺🇸

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