While in Oceanside, we learned that on the following weekend, a massive antiwar march and rally was to take place there. Not to be a missed opportunity, Mark and I returned to incorporate the returning Messiah into a historical event. We worked the situation to perfection. Using only a hand held camera, I filmed Mark directing the Police and march organizers and he led the thousands of protesters in a magnificent procession. I even met one of my news cameramen friends there and he put Mark on the 6 o'clock news.

As returning veterans, minus a few body parts, spoke on a large outdoor stage condemning what was now Nixon's war against the young, Marines from nearby Camp Pendelton lewdly screamed and gestured in retort. I couldn't help but wonder if any of them would make it back someday to limp up to a similar stage in Somewhere U.S.A. At least, with hundreds of Peace Officers, in full combat gear, lining the perimeters, freedom of speech would live forever, or at least until the full scale riot erupted.

Wow! Was this heaven or what, here I am right in the middle of history in the making and I have a mission, to film it. Extra! Extra! "New improved Jesus Christ gets his ass kicked by United States Marines." Sorry, there won't be any film at eleven. Things got so bad that Mark and I ran for our lives.

Until now, I had only seen demonstrations and riots on TV and then I wondered if they were for real or just another Madison Avenue gimmick. I should back track for a moment to explain the existence of the new President (Nixon). You see, the other guy, LBJ, the one who created and started franchising War Inc. could no longer endure the insensitive jokes made about him on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, so he quit. Because things had escalated to SO BAD under LBJ, no semi-intelligent person would even consider the job. So, in order to fill a void, a one time loser named Richard Millhouse Nixon stepped barefoot right into the middle of the pile of political excrement.

When Nixon took over in January of 69, the antiwar people didn't even make up new protest signs. Instead, they simply drew a line or an X through LBJ and wrote in Nixon. That little gesture, that he did not even merit a new personalized cardboard sign, would make the term of his first four years entirely predictable.

By the end of October 1969, though Nixon had promised to withdraw some troops, he and his VP had managed to completely alienate (piss-off) the young generation. The demonstrations throughout America were becoming larger and more frequent. Universities were being physically taken over by student groups. There were more than thirty American involved airplane hijackings just since January. The Saturday Evening Post, that for over a century had assured Mom that her home made apple pie was the only glue necessary to hold America together, died. Chemical weapons were discovered in the States and U.S. troops finally took the notorious "Hamburger Hill" in one of the bloodiest battles of the Vietnam War. Actually, it wasn't a war, officially after over five years and over 33,000 GIs dead, it was only a conflict. Even today, I think only Oliver Stone, myself and the victims have officially declared the many years of Hell, a War.

I know many readers will think that I have exaggerated the state of the Union in 1969, so let me quote William Zinsser from the August 22nd issue of Life Magazine, "I remember back in May seeing a picture of a tank and some infantrymen on the front page of the morning paper. I didn't bother to read the caption because it was the same combat picture of Vietnam that I've seen every other morning. But it wasn't Vietnam - it was a college in North Carolina. A few days later I saw a photograph of several hundred soldiers standing guard in gas masks. They were in gas masks because a helicopter was poised overhead to spray chemicals. It was the University of California at Berkeley."

So, just what the Hells going on here! No one has any answers, certainly not the politicians whose game it was, nor the school teachers who must wait fifty years so it can be explained in historical terms and definitely not the clergy for obvious reasons..Oprah and Geraldo haven't even been invented yet.

But there was one guy with a lot of answers and his name was "Charlie." "It's coming down fast" became his battle cry. Though a bit simplistic, nevertheless, it was simply effective. Not since the Civil War had this country seen such a rain of horror and it just seemed to be coming down harder and faster all the time.

With "Well Here I am" off to a great start, on November 6 of 1969 Mark dropped a small bomb shell. He informed me by telephone that there were some problems and that he might not be able to finish the film. Understandably, I panicked and rushed over the Santa Monica hills to his house in Venice Beach. This night soon began to unlock some of the mysteries that I had unwittingly stashed in the furthest corners of my mind.

As I entered Mark's living room, it became obvious that he had not been alone. Though only two physical bodies were present, mine and his, evidence of other beings were scattered throughout. I spotted a strange old doll in a corner and was immediately drawn to it. Decorated like a gypsy doll with naturally haunting eyes, Mark revealed that it belonged to his friends. As I touched that antique plaster figure, I actually began to sense an evilness about, to the extent that I quickly abandoned my curiosity.

With great showmanship, Mark undramatically paraded me by his bed, which was splattered with blood. Apparently, one of his friends failed to resist a bullet to the head. Though the body had been removed, I could visualize the scene as Mark tried to describe what had happened. But Mark wasn't there when Christopher Jesus, aka "zero," was literally fucking with Mark's gun and I could hear in Mark's voice a faint plea for help.