Tag Archives: 9/11

Reckoning Day

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A Day of Infamy: 9/11 and the Erasure of Financial Crimes
By Pope Lenny Belardo

History is written by the victors, but it is often erased by the architects of catastrophe. September 11, 2001, is remembered as a day of terror, an assault on the free world, a moment that changed everything. But behind the flames, the falling towers, and the endless calls for war, there lies another narrative—one buried beneath the rubble, hidden in the fine print of vanished financial records, and silenced by the chaos that followed.

The Crime Before the Crime

In the weeks leading up to 9/11, strange financial movements were reported. Billions of dollars in suspicious transactions. Unusual short selling of airline stocks. And most damning of all—the missing trillions.

On September 10, 2001, Donald Rumsfeld stood before the press and made a shocking admission: the Pentagon could not account for $2.3 trillion in transactions. The news, under normal circumstances, should have sent shockwaves through the financial and political world. But within 24 hours, the world had a new crisis—one that would render any previous scandals irrelevant.

The Smoking Gun: Building 7

If 9/11 was simply a terrorist attack, how do we explain the fall of World Trade Center 7? A building untouched by the planes, yet collapsing in freefall, housing SEC records related to high-level financial crimes, including investigations into Enron and WorldCom—both massive scandals tied to corporate fraud.

Who benefited from its destruction? Who needed those records to disappear?

War as the Ultimate Diversion

In the wake of 9/11, a new doctrine was born—the War on Terror. America was no longer looking at its books, its financial crimes, or its missing trillions. It was looking to Afghanistan, Iraq, and beyond. The Patriot Act erased freedoms, while no one asked where the money went. War became the ultimate cover-up, with the defense industry reaping the benefits, and the masterminds behind financial fraud walking free.

Conclusion: Who Profits From Tragedy?

9/11 was more than a terrorist attack. It was a strategic event—one that served multiple interests beyond mere geopolitics. A new era of war, surveillance, and financial manipulation began. And as always, the ones who asked the real questions were dismissed as conspiracy theorists.

But history has a way of revealing the truth. The day of infamy was not just a day of terror—it was a reset, a smokescreen, and an erasure of financial crimes that remain buried to this day.

  • Pope Lenny Belardo
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Chant Down Babylon

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Bob Marley’s Ghost and the Fall of Babylon

The morning of September 11, 2001, begins with a bright sun rising over New York City. The bustling streets teem with life, unaware of the darkness looming on the horizon. In the spiritual realm, where time and space blur, the ghost of Bob Marley stands atop a rooftop overlooking Manhattan. His ethereal form shimmers in hues of green, gold, and red, his dreadlocks flowing like smoke in the breeze.

Bob’s spirit has roamed the earth, watching humanity struggle, fight, and sometimes rise. But today, he feels a heavy vibration in the air—a discordant note in the rhythm of life. His spectral guitar rests in his hands as he looks toward the Twin Towers, their gleaming silhouettes piercing the sky.

Bob Marley: (softly, to himself)
“Babylon strong, but Jah sees all. What dem build with wicked hands, Jah can tear down.”

The first plane strikes the North Tower. A deafening explosion shakes the air, and fire erupts from the building. Bob’s ghost doesn’t flinch, though sorrow floods his translucent face. He strums his guitar, a mournful chord that seems to resonate with the cries of the people below.

Bob Marley: (singing softly)
“Men see their dreams and aspiration-a
Crumble in front of their face…”

The second plane crashes into the South Tower, and the fireball illuminates the sky like a dark sunrise. Bob’s voice grows louder, carrying a mix of pain and defiance.

Bob Marley: (singing)
“And all of their wicked intention
To destroy the human race.”

Smoke and chaos fill the streets as people run, scream, and cry. Bob watches with tears in his eyes, his voice rising like a prayer.

Bob Marley: (chanting)
“Chant down Babylon, Jah people!
Babylon fallin’, and dem tink dey win. But Jah light shine eternal.”

As the South Tower collapses, a massive cloud of dust and debris engulfs the city. Bob’s spirit floats above the chaos, his guitar echoing a melody that soothes the unseen wounds of the earth. His voice cuts through the destruction, a beacon of hope amid despair.

Bob Marley: (singing powerfully)
“How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Some say it’s just a part of it—
We’ve got to fulfill the Book.

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Great Balls of Fire

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Jerry Lee Lewis’s Ghost and the Great Balls of Fire

September 11, 2001. A crisp morning turns into chaos as the unthinkable unfolds in the skies above New York City. In the ethereal plane just beyond human perception, a familiar figure watches the tragedy with a mix of disbelief and sorrow.

Jerry Lee Lewis’s ghost, clad in a shimmering suit of spectral gold, floats above the clouds. His slicked-back hair glows faintly in the sunlight, and his spirit guitar dangles from a strap on his back. Though his body still lives, his spirit has wandered here, drawn by the enormity of the event.

He sees the first plane hit the North Tower, the fiery explosion sending shockwaves through the city. His translucent jaw drops.

Jerry Lee: (to himself) “Well, I’ll be damned… What in the Sam Hill’s goin’ on down there?”

As the second plane strikes the South Tower, the ghostly musician recoils, his hands instinctively reaching for his guitar. Flames and smoke billow into the sky, creating a hellish scene that reminds him of his own wild performances—the piano ablaze, the crowds roaring. But this is no stage, and the fire is not for show.

Jerry Lee: (shaking his head, eyes wide) “Goodness gracious… great balls of fire.”

He strums a few mournful chords on his spectral guitar, the sound resonating through the heavens. The notes carry a mix of sorrow and disbelief, echoing the collective grief of a world in shock. Jerry Lee’s ghost watches as people leap from the towers, their desperation piercing even his untouchable soul.

Jerry Lee: (whispering) “Lord have mercy on ‘em. They didn’t deserve this.”

The ghostly figure drifts closer to the city, his golden boots barely skimming the smoke-filled air. Below, the streets are chaos—screams, sirens, and the unrelenting roar of destruction. Jerry Lee feels a pang of helplessness, an unfamiliar sensation for a man who once commanded stages with raw power.

Jerry Lee: (clenching his fists) “Ain’t no music in this madness… just pain.”

He turns his gaze to the sky, where the towers stand ablaze like twin torches of despair. The flames lick higher, consuming steel and glass. Jerry Lee’s ghost feels the weight of history pressing down, the enormity of what this day will mean for the living.

Jerry Lee: (softly, almost to himself) “The devil’s playin’ a hell of a tune today.”

As the South Tower collapses, the ghost watches in stunned silence. Dust and debris cloud the air, shrouding the city in a choking fog. He grips his guitar tightly, his fingers trembling on the strings.

Jerry Lee: (with a heavy sigh) “Great balls of fire… but where’s the redemption in this?”

For the first time in his wild, defiant existence—both living and spectral—Jerry Lee Lewis feels small. The world he once lit up with his music seems darker now, overshadowed by an act of unimaginable cruelty. He strums one final chord, a haunting echo of his famous song, before fading into the ether.

The city below continues to burn, and the world is forever changed. But somewhere in the great beyond, a ghostly voice lingers, whispering a refrain that captures the chaos and fire of that terrible day.

Jerry Lee: (fading) “Goodness gracious… great balls of fire.”

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