In the glory year 1972 (and before he was shot) President Nixon had started NASA space shuttle program. The shuttle was to launch satellites and Hughes Corp. was a major builder of communication satellites. NASA officials were pretty stunned when Howard Hughes himself stepped in, with Jack Real arranging the meeting - a phone discussion. The NASa manager spent three hours discussing aerospace matter with Hughes, which mind was still sharp.
Except that sharp mind was hostage of a failing body marred by intractable pain. Hughes life was excruciating hell, every second of every minute was pain.
NERVA, space telescopes, Grand Tour, Viking, shuttle, Skylab, Apollo. NASA and government rules over the world of aerospace – but back in the day I was the king of aerospace, I flew the largest aircraft in the world Spruce Goose, only to screw Congress and Kaiser, and XF-11 was best reconnaissance aircraft in the world and back then I personally knew Lindbergh that was a crypto-nazi just like Joe Kennedy, fuck the Kennedys, and my H-1 racer got copied by the Japs which turned it into the Zeroes that wrecked our fleet in Pearl Harbor so I'm indirectly responsible of the death of 3000 of our boys and then as the war was over in '46 I crashed on Beverly Hill and was utterly crushed - third degree burn of abdomen and chest wall, fractures of chin, jaw, left knee, and left elbow, multiple burns of left ear, left chest, left abdominal wall, little finger left hand, left buttocks, third degree burns in some areas. one large burn extended from left shoulder to left hip, displacement of 6th cervical vertebrae onto the body of the 7th fracture through lateral articular facets of 5, 6, 7th cervical vertebrae fractures of ribs 1, 2, 3, and 4 on right. fractures of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 on left, fracture of left clavicle, hemorrhage into left chest cavity with displacement of heart into right chest, hemorrhage into mediastinum, blood loss requiring transfusions.
In Las Vegas Marylin Monroe got screwed by all three Kennedy's brothers, plus the complete rat pack here in Las Vegas - Sinatra, Davis, Lawford and Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis and then I corrupted Nixon failed brother Donald and Tricky Dick shitted his pants about it fearing Johnson or Humphrey or McGovern used it against him so he awaited the death of cocksucker John Edgar Hoover and broke out the Watergate with its plumbers and Jimmy Hoffa vanished without a trace while negroes killed each others in Newark and Detroit, MalcolmX got murdered, and Martin Luther King got a bullet in his throat and dropped dead, and RFK dropped dead, too, like his brother that lost most his brain if he ever used it, meanwhile I under-priced OH-6 helicopters to win the contract with McNamara's Pentagon, losing a small fortune but turning Vietnam into a parking lot infested by Agent orange and dioxine and then there all those killers on the run - Oswald, Sihran Sirhan, Manson, Earl Ray, Bremmer, Fromme, Moore, Chapmann, and Hinckley, and Ted Kennedy car sunk with that unfortunate girl, fuck those Kennedys.
Codeine, intractable pain, valium, germs, Ice Station Zebra, Jane Russell breasts, germs, underground nuclear explosions 100 miles from Las Vegas are shaking the hotel where I live as a recluse - radiation scare the shit out of me as much as germs so I'll corrupt any President in office to make nuclear testing in Nevada to stop, needs more Valium to sleep 48 hours in a row and forget that excruciating pain, damn it, can't even wear shoes or cut my nails, Ice station zebra the U.S government has a super secret agency with spy satellites that can see details as small as four inches on the ground from an altitude 100 miles high and sometimes a satellite malfunction and the Soviets try to grab it but here I am with my Glomar Explorer picking up a Soviet nuclear sub from the deep end with everyone dead onboard manganese nodules from the ocean floor - my ass this is only a cover story from the CIA and Las Vegas has been infested by the Mob after Cuba fell to fucking Castro and Chicago was not good enough for the mafia which prefered my sunny Nevada so Giancana and Santo Trafficante, Jr. were contacted by Johnny Roselli, Giancana's number-two man in Las Vegas about the possibility of an assassination attempt by a go-between from CIA, Robert Maheu who offered $150,000 for the "removal" of Castro and Giancana suggested using poison pills that could be used to doctor Castro's food and drink. but the entire program was canceled shortly thereafter due to the launching of the Bay of Pigs Invasion giant clusterfuck and the same nuclear bombs that shake my hotel room nearly blew up the world over Castro in 62, all 20 000 nukes, and then Doctor Strangelove and Fail Safe and Goldsborough, Palomares and Thulé were fucked up by B-52s falling from the sky, and they recovered a H-bomb from the depth with a submarine, thank you McNamara and if they tried to poison Castro maybe they will try to poison me, Nixon can't be trusted, paranoid jerk, I hate germs, valium, more pain, codeine...
