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See the consequences of what concocted by Emperor Constantine!

The Roman Dwarf who cannot rule the world by the sword
(testo in italiano)

- Melchiorre Gerbino
- the director of Mondo Beat magazine

I published an essay on the Vatican on the site of the Asefi-Terziaria, a publishing house based in Milan, in the second half of September 2003. This essay was published in English and Italian, entitled, respectively, Baby Jesus wants me Terrone and Il Bambino Gesù mi vuole terrone.
The publisher, Gianfranco Monti, sent emails of this essay to 2,500 subscribers of his House. At that, heated debates have arisen and the daily contacts of the site tripled from 40 to 120. The debates centered on the policy pursued by Pope Pius XII in post-fascist Italy and on the death of Pope John Paul I, presumably poisoned by the General of the Jesuits, Pedro Arrupe, when, suddenly, Gianfranco Monti was found dead on the stairs of a house in Via Volta, in Milan, where he owned an apartment. This unexpected death occurred on December 8, 2003, that is, less than three months after he had published my essay on the Vatican. Upon hearing this sad news, I left Calatafimi, my hometown in Sicily, and went to Milan. On the morning of December 11 I was in a morgue in Milan, where about forty people gathered to pay their last farewell to Gianfranco Monti. But, as a shocking surprise, Gianfranco Monti's body was not resting in rigor mortis, but the features of his face were upset and a bandage had been stretched over his mouth to cover a tormented expression of pain. Breaking the silence, the widow, Donatella, addressing me said: - "Do you see how he turned purple?".
Nevertheless, the widow, perhaps advised by someone, consented to the cremation of her husband's body, even though the autopsy had not been performed and the cremation was not in their family tradition. The cremation took place on December 17.
Being Asefi-Terziaria a family-run publishing house, Gianfranco's death reduced its activity and nobody would take care anymore of my essay "Baby Jesus wants me terrone". If Gianfranco Monti was assassinated, as I suspected, it was to put an end to the arguments about the Vatican raised by my essay.
Two months after Gianfranco Monti's death, I travelled to Mombasa and converted to Islam. I stayed in Kenya from February 21 to March 20, 2004.
Back to Italy, I remained in Milan until the end of April, then I returned to my hometown Calatafimi, where I owned a house on a plot of land.

I was in Calatafimi on May 14 and the evening of that day I went to the municipal museum to greet Anita Garibaldi, a great-granddaughter of Giuseppe Garibaldi. She had been invited by the mayor Nicola Cristaldi to preside over the commemorations of the Battle of Calatafimi (15 May 1860). But, after going to hug her, I felt puzzled, because I had felt that she was very cold with me. Her behavior was strange, since we were very familiar. I had been introduced to her and her cohabitant, Professor Salvatore Spinello, in a discotheque in Rome a few years earlier, on the occasion of other commemorations of Giuseppe Garibaldi and on that occasion Professor Spinello had handed me his business card and said: "I am a grand master of Freemasonry, please, call me". Since I was curious about Freemasonry, I called him a few days later and I was promptly invited at Anita Garibaldi's house, where I was introduced to several other people.
Now, telling a little about my relationship with Professor Spinello and Anita Garibaldi, on the occasion of that first meeting in her house, since we were discussing the kind of policy that the Vatican pursued in those countries where there was a large Italian community, I said: "As a first step, the Pope will send a nuncio with plans on how to introduce the mafia there". But at that point Professor Spinello had interrupted me with a brusque gesture, much to my surprise, as I had noticed, from my reading on the Freemasons, how fiercely anti-papist they are, as they claim to see the Antichrist in the Pope and want to crush his ring under their feet three times!
A day later, in the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge of the A.L.A.M., where I went to meet him, Professor Spinello explained me how a group of Freemasons left the "Confessione di Palazzo Giustiniani" (those who crush the ring) in the year 1912, for giving birth to our "Confessione di Piazza del Gesù", and this with the intention of bringing the Light to Italian Catholics, until then neglected.
I began to attend the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge, intrigued by the figure of the Professor. In my life I had never met anyone as inscrutable and paradoxical as Salvatore Spinello. During the Second World War, he had fought like a Rambo and had been decorated with a silver medal, but due to his paradoxical nature he had never learned to swim and was terrified of water masses... At the time when I frequented him, he was the great master of a lodge where no one came, except the owner of the premises, who came almost every day, threatening with eviction if not promptly paid for seven months of unpaid rent. At this, Professor Spinello would tell the most incredible explanations to justify the unpaid rent. But, as soon the owner left, the Professor was seized by feelings of liberation and euphoria, and began vigorously leafing through a list of brothers, presumably in sleep, if not dead. He calculated then how many of these brothers he could find again and how much money he could get from them, to pay the owner of the premises, and finally he would prepare a memorandum for a secretary, who was imaginary, but whose advent was awaited... But then, while the Lodge was in this state of neglect, suddenly the head of a branch of the Italian secret services would appear there, a gentleman who had previously introduced the Professor to the head of a branch of the American secret services in Italy, who had tested the Professor for the assignment of the job as the CIA referent in Italy (but the Professor complained that eventually this job was entrusted not to him but to Antonio Di Pietro). Or a high-ranking police superintendent would arrive at the Lodge, who would tell the Professor about all recent murders among police officers, and among carabinieri as well, and between police officers and carabinieri (I was not allowed to attend such meetings, the Professor would later have told about all this vaguely)... Or suddenly the Professor, as taken by an inspiration, would have dialed a number: "Professor Spinello speaking, please, get me in touch with Cardinal Oddi" - who was a cardinal very close to Pope John Paul II, and Professor Spinello had Cardinal Oddi on the phone... Finally, great was his knowledge of the Italian Constitution, of whose articles he would have liked to modify a part, and a part would have liked to bettering, some delete, while his misunderstanding of national and international politics was astonishing.
After some months of attendance, I got tired of the Lodge, and as I was also tired of living in Rome, I went to Milan. I looked for the Professor when I returned from Milan to Rome, a few years later, but it was not easy to find him, since during my absence the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge of the A.L.A.M. had dislodged several times, from one place to another, always because of unpaid rents. Finally I succeeded to meet the Professor and I found him more discredited and more alone than before, but stubbornly persisting to go nowhere. Then I understood how he suffered from senile narcissism. But I was in solidarity with him and I attended him until he was placed under house arrest because of an alleged plot to assassinate Senator Umberto Bossi, which was most probably a judicial plot against him, concocted by the others Freemasons, those who crush the ring of the Pope.
Finally, what I understood about Salvatore Spinello was that, under the cover of a grand master of Freemasonry, he was acting on behalf of the Vatican, but I had no idea to what extent, since he never told me. For my part, I never made a secret of my negative evaluations concerning the Vatican.

As for Professor Spinello's cohabitant, Anita Garibaldi, I had had no difficulty in understanding who she was, since she was a person of common intelligence and little culture, who believed she had charisma because she was a descendant of Giuseppe Garibaldi. At every public event she attended, she received cues from Professor Spinello on what to say and how to say, but then she acted so poorly that she made Professor Spinello despair. Hence I felt disoriented by her behavior on the evening of May 14, as, for the first time, I could not understand her. Nor could the explanation of her attitude towards me be justified by the fact that I politically opposed the mayor of Calatafimi, Nicola Cristaldi, who had invited her to preside over the commemoration of the Battle of Calatafimi.
And, at this point, it is worth saying about the mayor Nicola Cristaldi, because he is another actor in the story that I am describing. He had been criticized by me because he was trying to be elected for a second term as mayor of Calatafimi by changing his political line from fervent secular positions to servility towards the Church. Cristaldi's servility was grotesque, since he planned the erection of three large Catholic statues in the archaeological area of ​​Segesta, a place where, if three statues were to be erected, they would be those of Aeneas, Alcibiades and Cicero. Furthermore, the suspicion had arisen that Cristaldi was involved in the arson of the structures where the elders of Calatafimi met. There, after the fire, the structures had not been rebuilt but instead a statue of a Catholic idol, Padre Pio, had been erected at the expense of the Municipality.

Following now the chronological reconstruction of the events, on May 15, that is the day after meeting Anita Garibaldi at the municipal museum, I participated in the commemorations of the Battle of Calatafimi on the Hill of Pianto Romano. There Anita Garibaldi gave a speech, with which she insisted on the Christian roots of Europe, while Nicola Cristaldi, strutting in his band of mayor, repeatedly kissed the hand of a Catholic bishop. The atmosphere was surreal, it seemed that Giuseppe Garibaldi had won the Battle of Calatafimi thanks to the intercession of the Virgin Mary.

From mid-May I had worked in my land at the restoration of my house, when, on September 13, I was informed that they wanted to poison me. This happened in the late afternoon, when I was in Calatafimi town. I was staying in Piazzetta Beato Arcangelo Placenza, in the outside of a bar where I had drunk a coffee, when a person came towards me and speaking aloud: "Oh, Signor Gerbino! -he said- Can I ask you for an autograph?". I was used to people who asked for autographs, since I was well known because of many participations in the "Maurizio Costanzo Show", the most famous Italian talk show, where, speaking of my travels around the world, I had recorded high tv ratings.
I could see that this gentleman was not from Calatafimi, since in Calatafimi, which is a small town, we all know each other. He was in his forties, about 1.80 tall, stout, dark hair, wore lightly tinted lenses, a brown summer suit and brown Timberland loafers. He spoke without dialect accent. In one hand he held a wallet, on top of which there was a business card, with the other hand he was offering me a pen for signing. While I was signing, he whispered to me: "They will try to poison you". Then he gave me a nice pat on one shoulder and walked away with the same theatricality he had arrived with.
The first thought who came up to my mind was that the publisher Gianfranco Monti had been poisoned. I went inside the bar for a second coffee, and then I decided to go back to my farm and lie down in a hammock to ponder. It was not the first time that I found myself in such a situation, as the Vatican had already tried twice to have me killed.

The first attempt against my life was in April 1968, nine months after the dissolution of the Mondo Beat Movement, when Gianni De Martino, a Vatican spy who had infiltrated the movement, joined me and my Swedish companion Gunilla Unger on a trip to Morocco. Once in Morocco, Gianni De Martino coordinated with such De Mattia, a secret agent who worked under diplomatic cover at the Italian Embassy in Casablanca. The two together conceived the plan to have me killed with an overdose of morphine in a house of hippies in Marrakech and to reduce Gunilla Unger to an addict, so that from the Vatican they would have shouted See how that drug addict Melchiorre Gerbino and his wife ended up!
Thus Gianni De Martino took us to that house, where secret agents were hiding among the hippies. We were held in captivity for three days in that house, but they were unable to force me to have a morphine injection. We were allowed to leave that house as many people who frequented it became suspicious that something strangely unusual was happening there. Then Gunilla Unger and I made a run by taxi from Marrakech to Casablanca, where I first went to the police to report, then to the Italian embassy to tell De Mattia that I was aware of his plan to kill me. On leaving the Italian embassy we were arrested and locked up in a Moroccan prison, where we were subjected to psychotropic drugs for three days. We weren't killed because we had made too much noise to be killed on the sly. But after this experience it took me a couple of years to recover my balance.
Gianni De Martino was awarded by the Vatican, which promoted him to the rank of liaison agent between the Holy See and the Zionists (1). Gianni De Martino himself gives testimony of this on his official website (2). Those who want to know more about Gianni De Martino can find here the whole story of his life (3).

The second time the Vatican tried to have me killed was in September 1988. The reason, because I promoted a civil rights campaign in my hometown Calatafimi. During the period of ten months I had held public speechs and put up wall posters, consequently a fraudulent priest, named Michelangelo Bruccoleri, had fled back to Ecuador, where he used to be assigned, while two Christian Democratic mayors had resigned, one after the other, both belonging to the political area of the Mattarella Family. I had promoted all this on my own, given the freedom of political expression guaranteed by the Italian Constitution. But nothing could bore Sergio Mattarella more than the Italian Constitution! We owe to Sergio Mattarella the "Mattarellum", an unconstitutional electoral law aimed at increasing the Vatican's control over Italian politics, and we owe to Sergio Mattarella the creation of the Caramafia, that is, the coordination of Carabinieri and Mafiosi, that he concocted when he was the supervisor of the Italian intelligence services in the government of Romano Prodi and when he was the Minister of Defense in the following governments of Ciriaco De Mita and Giuliano Amato. Imagine then if in a Vatican protectorate like post-fascist Italy they do not try to kill someone like me, who made a priest flee and forced two mayors of Sergio Mattarella's political area to resign!
So they decided to kill me during the chain of murders which took place, with the frequency of one a week, in September 1988. The attempt to kill me occurred on September 20, that is, between the murders of retired magistrate Alberto Giacomelli (September 14, 1988) and sociologist Mauro Rostagno (September 26, 1988). I do not write the whole story here, but I will explain why the Jesuits wanted Mauro Rostagno, Melchiorre Gerbino and Alberto Giacomelli to be killed.
We were in the year 1988, that is, two years after the Chernobyl atomic disaster, which in fact marked the defeat of the Soviet Union in the Cold War. The Italian Communist Party, which was the largest political party in Italy, was adrift. Therefore the Jesuits created a new political party, to capture the votes of the Communists. This party, called "La Rete" (The Net), was founded in Sicily, destined to later expand throughout Italy, its direction being assigned to Leoluca Orlando, a former student of the Jesuits. But the Jesuits plans were opposed by the "PSI", which was the political party of Prime Minister Bettino Craxi, which attracted the communists from socialist positions.
The murder of Rostagno and Giacomelli and the attempt to kill Melchiorre Gerbino occurred due to this political confrontation between Jesuits and socialists. In fact Mauro Rostagno and Melchiorre Gerbino were both actively involved in favor of the Socialist Party, and both in the same constituency of the Province of Trapani. What the Jesuits feared was that Rostagno and Gerbino could attract Communists in such numbers that one more Socialist candidate (and one less from the Vatican area) could be elected in the Trapani constituency. So, they decided to kill them. Having to mobilize the Italian secret services to kill Rostagno and Gerbino, they also decided to kill Alberto Giacomelli, since during his career he had refused to be an accomplice of the Jesuits in the manipulation of judicial cases and was well acquainted with their machinations. Alberto Giacomelli was a retired magistrate, the former president of a criminal section of the Court of Trapani.
Since the Jesuits are very sophisticated in conceiving political assassinations (even more refined than the Elders of Sion!) they commissioned my assassination to the Secretary of the Italian Liberal Party (PLI) of the Province of Trapani, that is Rosario De Gaetano, who was originally from my town Calatafimi. To kill me, Rosario De Gaetano had formed a fire team with his brothers Francesco, Filippo, Gianfranco, with the surveyor Salvatore Lucido and a certain Nucciu Pilaturi. The question that may arise is: why did a provincial secretary of a political party expose himself to commit murder? Because his political party was very small and he could have made the climb if he had obeyed the Jesuits, since the Jesuits would have helped him, to have him available in other circumstances. Rosario De Gaetano was an exalted poor devil, who had attempted suicide when he was a teenager, shooting himself.
To make a long story short, after having eluded a long lasting encirclement of carabinieri and Mafiosi coordinated with each others, I reached Milan. There I sought refuge in the headquarters of the socialist newspaper "Avanti!". The lawyer Alessandro Garlatti, who had been Mondo Beat's lawyer, prepared my complaint. I accused the Jesuits Bartolomeo Sorge and Ennio Pintacuda of being the minds, and the politicians Sergio Mattarella and Leoluca Orlando of being the coordinators of the murders of magistrate Alberto Giacomelli, sociologist Mauro Rostagno and of the attempt to kill me. Of course, my complaint was archived. But the Italian Liberal Party, which until then had orbited in the political area controlled by the Vatican, was forced, to cover the scandal, to become a satellite of the Italian Socialist Party of Bettino Craxi.
I stayed in Milan for two and a half months, then I went back to Calatafimi, where I gave one more political speech, which was attended by a huge crowd of people from Calatafimi and other towns nearby. On that occasion I shot point-blank against the primate of Sicily, Cardinal Salvatore Pappalardo, the Jesuits and their politicians. So I ended my civil rights campaign. Then I was interviewed by a local TV, the same where the sociologist Mauro Rostagno had carried out his political activity before being killed. My interview had a high audience, it was replicated, finally it took me to the "Maurizio Costanzo Show", which made me very popular, and not so much because of my political activity, but because people were interested about my travels around the world. But this did not change my life, since I remained in my trench. From there I still could see the four De Gaetano brothers in the opposite trench, but now in big troubles. Rosario, the provincial secretary of the Italian Liberal Party, had had his political career truncated and the four brothers did not receive any more State subsidies for fraudulent projects. But, however, their lives would have been spared, since they were protected by Don Giovannino Malerba, who controlled a consistent number of votes on the occasion of the elections and was a devotee of the Mattarella Family. Due to his devotion to the Mattarella Family, Don Giovannino Malerba had continuously received subsidies from the Italian State and the European Community. Indeed, he had bought much land, built two cinemas and a wine producer cooperative, in short, he had created a potentate from almost nothing of his own. Don Giovannino Malerba protected the four De Gaetano brothers because he was an uncle of them, their mother being a Malerba. Indeed, Don Giovannino himself had suggested their candidacy to perform the dirty works to be done in Calatafimi. On the other hand the priest Diego Taranto, who was the moral authority of the town, had also favored the four De Gaetano for the dirty works to be done in Calatafimi for the good of the Church. And this because their mother was an apostate of the Catholic faith, converted to Jehovah's Witnesses. If the four De Gaetano ended in a storm, then Don Diego, in a sermon, would have made it understandable that he was referring to them when speaking of the punishments that God inflicts on the children of those who leave the path of the true faith. But Don Diego's work would have ended there, he would not have interfered in mobsters affairs. So, thanks Don Giovannino Malerba, the four De Gaetano were not eliminated because of their inefficiency, but were kept in a state of terror, to the extent that Rosario, the former secretary of the PLI, walked the streets side by side with his ten-year-old son, fearing to be shot. Nor the surveyor Salvatore Lucido was eliminated, who was in the squad of those who failed to kill Melchiorre Gerbino, but he remained on tiptoe to prepare applications for the approval of fraudulent projects. Neither Nucciu Pilaturi was killed. The poor, first had lost his girlfriend because of that dishonest priest, Michelangelo Bruccoleri, who had taken her away from him, then, instead of thanking me, who had sent away that priest from Calatafimi, he had taken on the task of shooting me (see the nuances of the mafia code of honor!). All these people were traumatized in seeing me in flesh and blood in Calatafimi and humiliated in seeing me on TV. Meanwhile, the Jesuits sighed in resignation, as their pupils Sergio Mattarella and Leoluca Orlando had to postpone the moment of introducing the protection money system in Calatafimi. Serene were the carabinieri, who hadn't heard anything alarming nor seen anything suspicious.

And so, now was the third time the Vatican tried to get me killed. It was September 2004. I had just turned 65.
Taking for granted that the secret services would collaborate with the local Mafiosi, I had to consider whose characters, who had power in Calatafimi, could somehow involve in this affair.
The priest Diego Taranto was still there. He was more than eighty years old, but he was still able to produce mayors of Calatafimi to be placed at the service of the Church. For sure, he knew they wanted to kill me.
Even Don Giovannino Malerba was still there. He was more than ninety years old and was still scrounging Italian and European subsidies for himself and for the people of his organization. Of course, not only did he know, but somehow he was also the local reference for both, the secret services and the mobsters.
And what about his nephews, the four De Gaetano brothers? As I have already mentioned, not having been able to kill me in 1988, but having raised a nest of hornets, they were forced to remain silent and were placed in a sort of social isolation, except the youngest of the brothers, Gianfranco, who was assigned to the Italian school in Istanbul, as a mathematics teacher. The question I asked myself was whether it was possible that a person with his record could be assigned to an international activity, if not for doing some particular job... Indeed, after some years in Istanbul, Gianfranco De Gaetano was transferred for a few years to Asmara, Eritrea, with the same assignment of a mathematics teacher, and then he returned to Calatafimi, where he got a State subsidy for the realization of a project the kind "farm holidays". Thus, on a land of his, he built a structure which he called "Villa del Bosco" (Villa in the Woods)... When a person is born under a lucky star! He was also fortunate that, beside the State subsidy, the road which leads from Calatafimi to Villa del Bosco was redone and an electric piling implanted for the first time in that rural area! And the all was so well done that you couldn't believe you were in Sicily. Like when traveling through the chaotic railway system in Rome, you arrive at Stazione San Pietro, in the territory of the Vatican, and it seems to you being in Switzerland... So, Villa del Bosco, where a tourist guest could be seen once in a blue moon, was a facade. Most likely, Gianfranco De Gaetano worked in a branch of the secret services.
Then, I considered that such Salvatore Giurintano, nicknamed Orso (Bear), with whom I had cut relations in 1988, recently had acted with me in order to reestablish contacts. There was no doubt that Orso belonged to the organized crime, since he had received a State subsidy for growing oregano (!) with which subsidy instead he had built a stone house on the top of a hill.
And, at this point, taking a cue from Orso, it is appropriate that I explain why in Sicily and in southern Italy in general, the money that the Italian State and the European Community first, and then the European Union, have assigned for projects intended to develop the territory, would be collected, almost entirely, by people who submitted bogus projects, while almost all non-false projects were rejected by the various commitions and, at the end of the terms, mountains of unallocated money were returned back to the European Union. Well, the explanation is that in Southern Italy, especially in Sicily, nothing had to grow which was not blessed by the Church, and the Church blessed only scams, since did not wanted Sicily and Southern Italy to develop, because when you no longer bring two candles to St. Blaise, the Protector of the throat, but you go to an otolaryngologist, undeniably, the Church loses a certain power. On the other hand, if the contributions were awarded to bogus projects presented by people of the underworld, the Church could then count on their services, whatever sorts of crimes it would have requested. This is the reason why Sicily and Southern Italy are today the poorest and most outlawed area of the European Union. And this is the reason why one day the Contestation will make of the Vatican City a heap of smouldering ruins.
Returning to Orso, he, to reestablish relations with me, had tried until he had succeeded. Now, having a good relationship with someone to kill is a mafia trick, since it will be easier for you to commit murder and to ward off suspicions from yourself. I knew about this kind of tricks since 1600 years, since when, as a Vandal, I arrived from Djerba to Sicily and I destroyed Segesta, in whose territory I still live... So, I began to see the affair more clearly, considering that Orso had monitored my car in the last weeks. In fact, every time I came from my land to Calatafimi, when driving through Via Alcide De Gasperi I could see Orso coming out from the pizzeria he owns and looking in direction of my car, or I could see him leaning against a railing, but always looking in direction of my car. If I had not seen Orso, I would inevitably have seen his brother Rocco doing the same. So it was logical to assume that my car was electronically monitored. The brothers De Gaetano and their team were equipped with electronic devices already sixteen years earlier, at the time of that other attempt against my life, imagine how they were equipped now, after the giant steps taken by electronic technology!
Furthermore, I remembered that I had recently seen Alberto Provenzano at the wheel of his car, and he had made a vengeful face at me. Provenzano was the municipal secretary. About him, without mentioning his name, I had written in "Baby Jesus wants me terrone" that during the Presidency of the Socialist Pertini, when Craxi was the Socialist Prime Minister, there was a political engagement at providing computers to municipalities who had not yet. In municipalities subjected to Vatican control, which was the case of Calatafimi, a plan was put in motion to buy obsolete computers, to sabotage progress, and those responsible for this kind of sabotage were rewarded by promotion from Municipal to Provincial jobs. Now, to tell the story fully, the obsolete computers for Calatafimi's Municipality were bought in Castellammare del Golfo, Sergio Mattarella's hometown, in the local Olivetti agency, being the Olivetti Company owned by Carlo De Benedetti, a Zionist who carries out the dirtiest jobs for the Vatican. As a reward, Alberto Provenzano, who intentionally purchased the obsolete computers, was promoted from the rank of town clerk in Calatafimi to the rank of administrative secretary of the Province of Trapani, sponsored by Sergio Mattarella, of course, who throws his weight on that province... So, finally, I understood the reason why Provenzano made that vengeful grimace at me, he did because he knew that they were preparing an attempt against my life. At this point, I got up from the hammock and went back to Calatafimi.
I arrived in the Acquanova district and looked for Orso, who used to spend his free time there. As I met him, I told him: "I have to give you a bad news" - at that, Orso had a kind of heart attack, as he believed something fatal had occurred to his wife or one of his children. I gave him time to suffer. Then I said: "I know about what is happening, I mean I know there is a plan against my life. You tell Alberto Provenzano right away"- and I left him at a loss for words.

I stayed at my house on September 14, when I prepared an inscription on a flag, "Melchiorre Gerbino announces his conversion to Islam". The flag was the national flag of Kenya. I didn't have a real Muslim flag with Arabic transcription on hand, but that flag still reminded me of my conversion to Islam, as it had taken place in Kenya. By chance that flag was the perfect size to decorate a balcony in my mother's house, which was in line with a balcony of the City Hall.
The next day I displayed the flag from my mother's balcony. Since my mother lived alone, she was the only person who could object. My mother, in fact, worried about the reaction that the priest Diego Taranto might have. But Diego Taranto was traumatized at the sight of the flag. He wandered aimlessly through the streets of Calatafimi for days, dragging himself heavily, until he fell to the ground and died.
To reach the cemetery, Diego Taranto's coffin inevitably had to pass under my flag, so the authorities did not attend the funeral. Otherwise there would have been the bishops of Trapani and Mazara del Vallo with a swarm of priests and a group of deputies and senators led by Sergio Mattarella. None of them stood behind the coffin, each had adduced an excuse. They requisitioned the school children, who paraded in the funeral procession. So departed Diego Taranto from the scene, a cynical and obstinate malefactor. His mind was never crossed by the doubt that it could be a crime to promote someone to the career of magistrate in order to put that person in cahoots with the devious secret services and the Mafiosi; nor that it could be a crime to manipulate the ballots in the Chiesa Nuova electoral section for reelecting Nicola Cristaldi mayor of Calatafimi; nor could it be a crime to participate in the murder of Melchiorre Gerbino, since it would all be for the good of the Church.

Going back to the chronological order of events, I felt that everything was normal on September 16, 17 and 18, so at that time I worked intensely on the restoration of my house. On my land, I can sense if everything is normal from the birdsong, because something changes in their general song if someone moves there.

On Sunday the 19th I arrived at Bar Grazia in the Sasi district at 7 am to watch a Moto GP race, the Japanese Grand Prix. I don't have a television at home, because I don't want to waste time, but I used to watch MotoGP races as I liked to see what Valentino Rossi is able to do with a motorcycle.
It was about 7:30 am when Maurizio Saccaro, dressed in an elegant uniform of the Forestry Corps, arrived at the Bar Grazia and came straight to my table and asked me: "Do you want a coffee?" - I replied - "Yes, thanks". So he walked towards another room, where the coffee machine was installed, but then I noticed that he was searching something in a pocket of his dress (the pocket over the heart).
If I had not been warned that they wanted to poison me, I would not have been suspicious (and besides, suspicious of Maurizio Saccaro!? We were great friends, to the point that I had lent him money and hadn't solicited him for my money back).
So, I got up and followed him into the other room, where I asked the bartender to make me a light coffee. After what, I took the cup and went back to my table, followed by Maurizio Saccaro with his cup, and we sat together.
After a short while, two uniformed marshals of the Carabinieri entered the bar. One of them was Marshal Maiorana, the other, whom I didn't know, was in his forties, had a fleshy face and a prominent nose. Almost at the same time, the surveyor Salvatore Lucido entered the bar, that one who, if you remember, prepared applications for Italian and European subsidies for fraudulent projects (given that he has some homonyms in Calatafimi, I want to to give the telephone number of his office: 0924951358). The three men were looking in my direction. When they understood that Maurizio Saccaro had failed to poison me, since I was drinking my coffee quietly, they left. After a while also Maurizio Saccaro left. I must say that the face of Marshal Maiorana was tense and somehow sorry, the face of the other marshal was professional, while that of the surveyor Salvatore Lucido was sardonic, as he expected to se me die in convulsions.
What would have happened if I had been poisoned? Certainly the two marshals, who were accidentally in the bar Grazia, would have testified that I was taken by a sudden illness, while someone else would have taken me to the Alcamo hospital, which was the nearest hospital, where a doctor, a friend of the friends, would have certificated that I had died of a heart attack. Then, promptly, someone would have produced a false will in which I stated that I wanted to be cremated in the event of death (to contestate the Vatican!). Since they could not hold a funeral in a church, given that I had converted to Islam, they would have held a ceremony in the town hall, where the mayor Nicola Cristaldi would have said: "Yes, there were some disagreement between this municipal administration and Melchiorre Gerbino, but isn't normal that in a democratic system there can be disagreements? Melchiorre Gerbino was a famous citizen of this town, so the councilors unanimously have decreed that all expenses related to his death will be borne by this municipal administration"- and the crematorium to pulverize me would have been ready.

On the morning of the 20th I drove to the Tre Croci district, where the Franciscan friar Bernardo Critti owned a country house. We were friends, so I told him about what was going on since the publication of my writing Baby Jesus wants me Terrone. As Father Bernardo was a clergyman close to the cardinal primate of Sicily, I asked him if he could help me in some way.

From September 20 to 22, I worked on the restoration of my home. In those days I often went to Calatafimi to buy materials for the restoration. Any time I passed in front of the carabinieri barracks, I noticed three or four cars, with civil plates, which had never been parked there before. Furthermore, I noticed that in Calatafimi I was stalked by people holding a hand in a pocket of their jackets, as if they were manipulating something. All those who stalked me were in relationship with the De Gaetano brothers, namely, Giuseppe Scandariato, called Pippineddu, who worked at Villa del Bosco; Gaetano Pampalone, nicknamed Scarafaggio (Cockroach), who was a cousin of the De Gaetano brothers and others. In addition, I was stalked by the municipal librarian Giovanni Bruccoleri, a brother of that fraudulent priest Michelangelo Bruccoleri, whom I had forced to escape from Calatafimi.
I also wondered who Nathan really was, the only tourist in Villa del Bosco, with whom I had spent some time in the evening in a kiosk in the public garden. He had come twice to my land, where, enraptured by nature, he got lost for a good amount of time. He had told me he was an American scholar, who spent time between the towns of Calatafimi and Modica for historical research. I did not ask him if he was a Jew, since I could see it by myself, but, strangely, he did not mention it, while Jews usually do.
I also considered that Camillo Rizzo had returned to Calatafimi, after a month of absence. He was responsible for the municipal website and a man close to Mayor Nicola Cristaldi. Now he had a powerful car and I also suspected a Taser devise disguised as a cigarette lighter, with which, I suspected, he had already tried to hit me once since his return.
In addition, I had noticed that also the lawyer Gaspare Denaro involved in the affair. It happened that I temporarily changed my car with a car of one of my brothers, who had a bigger trunk, to went to Alcamo to buy some material for the restoration of my house. Since they controlled my car electronically, when they saw another person at the wheel of my car and considered that I could have escaped, they quickly arranged observation points at the junction of every road which connected the town with the surrounding territory. On my return from Alcamo, I saw Calatafimi manned by the Mafiosi, and among them there was the lawyer Gaspare Denaro. This person had received a state grant for the creation of a cooperative of wine producers, but this cooperative, which had already endured forty years, hadn't produced yet a single bottle of wine! I don't know what has been done during 40 years on the premises of this cooperative, certainly a chain of crimes.
Finally, having considered that I might have escaped, the mobsters also mobilized the ranchers, whose lands were at the road junctions in the territory of Calatafimi.

On the morning of the 23rd, Maurizio Saccaro, the one who had already tried to poison me, joined me as I was entering the Bar Mazara. With the warmth of friendship he told me: "Let's drink a coffee!". Then I realized that Friar Bernardo Critti, to whom I had asked to stop the course of events, had failed. So I shouted to Saccaro: "I do not want a cup of coffee from you and I do not want you to come to my land for any reason!" - At that, Saccaro became clearly embarrassed.
From that moment on I have played cards face up. From my mother's phone, which was obviously controlled by the secret services, I called Marco Philopat Galliani, together with whom I had to publish a book on Mondo Beat and my life and I told him that they were trying to kill me in Calatafimi.
To alarm even more the secret services, I asked Galliani to print 100 copies of a mural poster with which I explained to the people of Calatafimi the reason for my conversion to Islam and with which I asked people to follow my example. Of course, Galliani was upset. He told me that director Francesco Galli would soon come to see me in Calatafimi, for a tv interview.
After this telephone call, I went with my car to Alcamo, to get money from a lady who had bought some of my paintings, and then I went to Vita, where I bought material for the restoration of my house.

In the following days, the number of secret agents, who pretended to be tourists, increased and one more car of the carabinieri arrived in Calatafimi. But I felt as there was no more urgency to kill me. They were forced to readjust their strategy, since I had made it clear that I knew they wanted to kill me and I had informed other people about this. So I had time to dedicate myself to the restoration of the house. While I was working, I reflected intensely.

On the morning of the 25th, I received a phone call from Anna Maria Ballarati, from Rome. It was the second time she called me. I had received a first call from her at the beginning of September, when I did not know that they wanted to kill me. On that occasion, Mrs. Ballarati asked me if I was traveling to Rome, because she was organizing cultural events and would have appreciated my participation. I must say that I received several calls from people who wanted my participation, as I was famous because of my participation in the Maurizio Costanzo Show. And because at that time I drank a little too much and gave my phone number to anyone who asked for, I received calls from people I had forgotten who they were and, to be kind, I simulated as I remembered them. Mrs. Ballarati was one of them. During her first call she had asked - "Do you remember who I am?" - and, to be kind, I had replied - "Of course, I remember you well and as soon as I arrive in Rome I will contact you". Now, Anna Maria Ballarati called me again, trying to push me to go to Rome without delay. At one point, she said- "Come soon, Anita organizes interesting events, she wants you here". And so I have remembered that Anna Maria Ballarati was a friend of Anita Garibaldi! - I told her - "I am sorry, but now I have to leave you. I will call you later" - and I went to throw myself into an armchair. Finally, I had realized that the attempts to kill me were directed by that senile Narcissus the Great Master of the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge of the A.L.A.M.!
By this, I realized that Salvatore Spinello first had tried to have me in Rome, for kill me there (this was the reason of the first call of Ms Ballarati, when she invited me for the first time). Then, since I delayed to go to Rome, Salvatore Spinello had tried to have me killed in Calatafimi and Anita Garibaldi had come there to define with mayor Nicola Cristaldi the details of my murder. But since I had understood that they wanted to kill me in Calatafimi, Salvatore Spinello was trying, for the second time, to have me in Rome, for kill me there, and this was the reason why Ms Ballarati had called me again.
I decided to play cards face up also with Salvatore Spinello and I left this message on the phone of Ms Ballarati: "My greetings to Turiddu". Turiddu was the nickname I had given to Salvatore Spinello and by this nickname he was known and called by people intimate with him.
Two hours later I received one my phone this message from Anna Maria Ballarati: "Who is Turiddu? I do not know any Turiddu. I know Anita Garibaldi, Caterina Caselli... You are mistaking me for another person".
After this exchange of messages between me and Ms Ballarati, there were two weeks of stalemate, during which Salvatore Spinello had to reorganize his plan to kill me, while I was able to finish the restoration of my house.

On the morning of October 8, as I was driving to my mother house, I had the feeling that something fatal could happen to me, because of the many plainclothes agents who were presiding over the streets. As soon as I parked in Piazza Plebiscito, to go to my mother house, Maurizio Saccaro, the one who had the task to poison me, ran over to me and with a resentful air he asked "Why are you angry with me?". I went back to my car at once and drove quickly to my land. I promptly phoned a friend of mine, Ms Pinuccia Bartolini, in Milan, and asked her to write on a piece of paper: "The Vatican is trying to kill Melchiorre Gerbino in Calatafimi. The operation is led by Salvatore Spinello, with the carabinieri which are giving support to local mobsters". I asked her to send email or fax of this text to newspapers.
My friend was scared and confused. In fact, I did not expect any help from her, but I talked to her with the purpose of being heard by those who monitored my phone. Therefore, I played a card I had up my sleeve. I said to Pinuccia: "Don’t write anything of what I am telling now, as I do it just because I want to be heard by those who are monitoring my phone. So, I ask you, do you know about the Turks?" - My friend asked: "Which Turks?" - I said : "Those Turks who are playing on four tables, with the Americans, the Europeans, the Israelis and the Saudis. Would you confide some secret to those Turks? Well, Gianfranco De Gaetano does it, the Turkish secret services have captured him in Istanbul, when under the cover of a math teacher he worked for the Italian secret services. The traces of his current collaboration with the Turks are on the Internet. Gianfranco De Gaetano is a card from the deck we are playing with now, a card that I now pass to Salvatore Spinello"- and Salvatore Spinello went haywire again, since he could not proceed with the attempt to kill me if he had not previously checked on the relationship of Gianfranco De Gaetano with the Turks.

Mr. Undersecretary of the Interior, Dr. Antonio D’Alì, did you not have any information about the events which I have mentioned so far? You live in Trapani, that is, a stone's throw from the place where I live. It would be very worrying if you had not been aware of the presence of so many secret agents in Calatafimi. And it would be even more worrying if you were aware of it.

On October 9 and 10 I worked on the land of my farm. In those two days I left messages on the phones of many people, mentioning names and facts about what was occurring to me, to leave memory in case I was killed.
Of those who have received a message, the most cowardly of them, who, by irony of his fate was called Libero (Free), reacted by leaving this message on my phone "How do you dare to take this liberty with me?".
On the phone of Anna Maria Ballarati, who had invited me twice to go to Rome to be killed by Salvatore Spinello, I left this message "Stay away from that couple of murderers! Repent! Convert to Islam!".
Anna Maria Ballarati sent the text of my message back, adding to it "You’ve got the wrong person!"

At the beginning of the afternoon of October 11, while I was relaxing in a hammock under an olive tree, Nathan arrived at my farm, if you remember, that American tourist who lodged at Villa del Bosco, the one who looked as a Jew but didn't tell he was. Along with him there was another person. I said them that I could not receive anyone because I was busy. Nathan insisted on introducing me to his American friend, but I reiterated that I could not receive them. So they're gone. I then considered that they were both Jews, but they did not look like American Jews, as they pretended to be. Especially Nathan's friend didn't look American at all. So I realized they were Israelis... And I realized that the Zionist Carlo De Benedetti, who did the dirtiest jobs for the Vatican (I have already mentioned the sale of obsolete computers to delay development in Southern Italy) had called these guys from Israel to bring sophisticated monitoring equipment, to test it on my skin and show how well it worked. In fact, those who were stalking me in Calatafimi had something in a pocket of their jacket, which they manipulated. If this sophisticated equipment had then been adopted by the organized crime of Southern Italy, Carlo De Benedetti and the Mossad would have made a good deal.

I worked hard on the farm between October 11 and 14. When I went to Calatafimi in those days, I had the feeling that the pressure on me had eased, since Salvatore Spinello had to check about Gianfranco De Gaetano's connection with the Turks, and because he knew that a movie director would come soon to Calatafimi for interviewing me.
On October 14th, Marco Philopat Galliani, the one who was writing a book about my life, called me and confirmed the arrival in Calatafimi of director Francesco Galli. Furthermore, he told me that Gianni De Martino (the spy who had involved in the attempt to murder me in Marrakech) had requested him an appointment. I asked Galliani to throw him out of the publishing house. He assured me he would have done it.

Francesco Galli and Tamara Vignati arrived on October 15th. They interviewed me on my farm and along the streets of Calatafimi. They slept one night at my house. They left on the evening of the16th.
I was lucid enough to understand that I would be intercepted, if I left Calatafimi with them, and then disappear in an acid bath. If I had to die, it had to be in Calatafimi, in the middle of the arena, in the presence of six thousand spectators.

Between October 17 an 20 around me an encirclement of local mobsters was arranged, coordinated with the secret services.

From a phone call from Marco Philopat Galliani, who had met with the spy Gianni De Martino, sent to him by Salvatore Spinello, I understood that Galliani had abandoned me. He was scared. I interrupted my relationship with him, not to be exposed to the betrayal of a coward.

When I arrived in Calatafimi on the morning of October 21st, I felt I was in the final stranglehold. So I decided not to go back to my house, as I could have easily been kidnapped along the way.
In the afternoon of that day, I saw Gianfranco De Gaetano sitting on the edge of a fountain in the Acquanova district. He seemed tired, because of the interrogations on the Turks to which he had been subjected. Next to him sat my carpenter, Mariano Maimone. He had been the president of the city council for a couple of years, but recently he had been replaced by another counsellor, so he was a little depressed because of it. As soon as they saw me, they left. Mariano Maimone was not a friend of mine, but you could say that he was politically close to me in some way, because he claimed to be a socialist. Recently he had been in my house to restore a piece of furniture... Could it be that Gianfranco De Gaetano was delivering to Mariano Maimone that will in which I stated I wanted to be incinerated in the event of my death?
That night I slept in my car, parked in the heart of the town, Piazza Plebiscito, where I was born.

On the morning of October 22nd, I took a shower at my mother's house. When I walked the streets of Calatafimi, I noticed that all the bars were manned by the cattle breeders of Gennaro, Pedone, Gerardi families. I did not drive with my car during the day and at night I slept in an alcove under the stairs of my mother's house, without her knowledge

On the morning of October 23 I left a message on the phone of mayor Nicola Cristaldi, who had disappeared from Calatafimi since a couple of weeks, waiting in Rome to learn that my murder had happened.
I wanted to let him know that I had understood about the fake will that my carpenter would have produced after my death, so I left this message on his phone "I am aware of the mission that my carpenter, Mariano Maimone, has to carry out. Congratulations! Melchiorre Gerbino".
Because I wanted this message to be read also by the Grand Master Salvatore Spinello, I left a copy of it on Rizzo's phone, the one who had tried to hit me with a Taser device disguised as a lighter.
After that, I took a tour of the city, to see what the situation was like, and it was the same as the day before, the cattle ranchers were waiting for me to go to my land to kidnap or forcibly poison me. In fact, in the late morning, when I went to my car and headed to my land, the cattle ranchers also went to their cars and followed me. But I didn't go to my land. As soon as I was in front of the carabinieri station, I stopped the car and went to sit in their waiting room. Apart from me, there was no one. Immediately after my arrival, a carabiniere arrived and said: - "Good morning, Mr. Gerbino."
I said - "Good morning, I want to file a complaint".
The carabiniere said: "Please wait a moment".
There had been a sort of tacit fair play between me and the carabinieri. They had shown, all of them, that they were unhappy with the work they were doing in my case, while, for my part, I had shown understanding for their situation and melancholy for the karma of Terrone that each of us lived under the dictatorship of the Vatican.
Sergeant Tiziano Maggitti appeared and welcomed me. He asked: "What is it about, Mr. Gerbino?"
I said that I suspected that the editor Gianfranco Monti had been assassinated months before in Milan and that I had no doubt that my life was threatened by the four De Gaetano brothers and those who were stalking me, and I reported their names. I also said that I suspected that a couple of tourists staying at Villa del Bosco were Israeli agents involving in this affair with monitoring equipment.
So, Sergeant Maggitti and I worked together to formalize the complaint. We did it in a flowering Italian style, aware that Italy has been the very cradle of law since Roman times.
Having requested and obtained a copy of the complaint, after a handshake, I left Sergeant Maggitti and returned to my car and to the city center, Piazza Plebiscito, where I parked my car.
Then I decided to provoke the Grand Master of the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge of the A.L.A.M., Salvatore Spinello, hitting him in his narcissism, hoping he would have lost control of himself. So I left this message on the cell phone of Ms Anna Maria Ballarati - "Please, tell Professor Spinello: 'Old, failed, murderer, such is your pettiness that you do not have the dignity to kill yourself!' ". And, in order to infuriate Salvatore Spinello at the utmost, I left copy of this message on the phone of a freemason lawyer, who was an enemy of Spinello, and I left the same message on Rizzo's cell phone, the one who tried to hit me with the Taser.
That night I slept at my mother's house, in the alcove under the stairs.

On the morning of Sunday, October 24, when I came out of my mother's house and walked the streets, I noticed that the cattle farmers were still manning all the bars. They were still waiting that I drove towards my farm. But I did not do it. I spent the day in Calatafimi.
In the afternoon, two new tourists, who were staying in Villa del Bosco and looked like Israelis, arrived in Calatafimi to take a walk around the city, while Nathan and the one who had accompanied him to my land, had disappeared from Calatafimi after my complaint.
On the evening of that Sunday, the street lighting was dazzling in Calatafimi and all the people were in the streets. To relax, I went to see a football match on the premises of Spillo. When I left Spillo's premises, I found myself among the cattle breeders, who pretended to laze, some on public benches, others in bars, but all of them disappeared at 10 pm, when the football game ended, while many people were still around.
Next to the Post building, there was a man selling chestnuts and a happy atmosphere around him. When I went there, I noticed Mrs Guida, that is Filippo De Gaetano's wife, who was leaning on a car in which De Gaetano himself sat behind the wheel. I was so close to them that I could hear how Mrs Guida told her husband: "He is approaching here" - referring to me. But, as I was used to being among enemies, I did not worry about it. While I was returning to Spillo, whose premises were in an alley, I turned instinctively at the same moment when Filippo De Gaetano had entered the alley at the wheel of his car. He had an angry face, as he had missed to shoot at me, since I was already inside the door of Spillo's premises. Filippo De Gaetano promptly backed off with his car and I immediately went to see where he was going. He returned to the same place where he had previously parked.
I considered that Salvatore Spinello had really lost control over what he was doing, since he had ordered that they should kill me by any means and at any cost. So I leaned against a railing, at such a distance that he could not reach me by a gunshot, and I began to make faces in the direction of Filippo De Gaetano, to drive him mad, so that he would chase me among the people with his gun in hand. But De Gaetano managed to control himself. After a while I left, to take refuge under the stairs of my mother's house.

On the morning of October 25, 2004, Calatafimi was deserted like an uninhabited town. One could see some shadows which immediately faded away. It was the day when Melchiorre Gerbino had to be killed, and people had been warned and did not stay in the streets.
In Piazza Plebiscito, not far from my small car Fiat Panda, an imposing car with smoked windows was parked, that of the cattle breeder Pedone. Pedone himself sat under the statue of Garibaldi and with him such Michele and the municipal librarian Giovanni Bruccoleri, the brother of that priest that I made to escape, of which now he wanted to avenge the honor. All of them pretended that nothing special was happening and I too was relaxed, walking up and down in the square. At a certain moment I went to my mother's house, which was next to the square, but it was not visible from the statue of Garibaldi where the three were sitting. And then, after a couple of minutes, I went back to Piazza Plebiscito to my car, which I opened to look for something I could not find. Then I left the car open and returned in fast steps to the house of my mother again, but when I was out of sight of the three, I went down an alley which started from one side of my mother's house. When I arrived in Corso Garibaldi, I walked phlegmatically in the middle of the street. All balconies were closed. Nobody wanted to witness the killing of Melchiorre Gerbino. In Piazza Pietro Nocito, almost in the opposite site of the house of the De Gaetanos, there was an arch from which a very steep road started. I descended it and I walked through the Aciddittu quarter and I arrived to a ring road, where I immediately blocked a truck, standing in front of it. At the wheel there was Paolo Donato, a guy I knew for his motocross races. Paolo opened the door of the truck for me. I climbed in and I said to him, "I'm sick, I have something that hurts my heart. Where are you going?" - "I am going to Trapani -he replied- There I can leave you in a hospital" (incidentally, there are no hospitals in Calatafimi). "Thanks -I said- Allow me to lie down in your bunk, please" - and I did it in time not to be seen by those of the Caramafia, who were certainly guarding the junction of the state road 113, where we were arriving.
We arrived in Trapani after half an hour.
Paolo insisted on taking me to a hospital, but I told him that I would go there alone, because first I wanted to take a breath of sea air, and so I got off the truck in the port area.
At 9:30 pm, I left Trapani on board the "Toscana", a ferry who set sail for Sardinia.
I disembarked in Cagliari the next morning at 8.30.
I left Cagliari by train at 10.05 am and at 11.20 I arrived in Oristano, where I had lunch. The proprietress of the restaurant recognized me from the television. She told me - "Mr Gerbino, you must absolutely return to Oristano for the carnival! ".
"Madam, -I said- how much I would like so, but how can I promise this, with all the commitments I have?".
I left Oristano by train at 1.20 pm and arrived in Olbia at 4.30 pm. From there I immediately took a bus to Palau and from Palau another to Santa Teresa di Gallura, where I arrived at 9 pm. It was too late to board a ferry to Corsica. So I had dinner at the Azzurra restaurant and spent the night hidden among the myrtle bushes, so as not to be registered in a hotel.
On October 27, at 7.30 am, I left Santa Teresa di Gallura on board of a Saremar ferry and I disembarked in Bonifacio, France, an hour later.
I had a few hundred euros with me, my driving license and the skin under my shirt, by the will of God.

But the risks to my life would not have ended then and I will summarily tell of the other times they have tried to kill me.
In France, where I stayed for 8 months, the French secret services tried to kill me with the Taser, with poisoned chocolates, planning of throwing me off a window on the fifth floor of my hotel in Paris.
I went to Switzerland, where I stayed for 9 months. In Bern, I was hit by a Taser discharge. In addition, the Swiss secret services planned to throw me out of the window of the apartment of a friend I was teaching Latin to. The Swiss secret services and the Mossad, coordinated, tried twice to kidnap me (extraordinary renditions).
In Denmark, first the Polish secret services, then the Danish as well, have tried to kill me with the Taser. One evening, I was hit by a taser discharge in a downtown street in Copenhagen, I don't know if by Polish or Danish agents.
In Norway, the Polish secret services tried to kill me with the Taser. In the central library in Oslo, I was hit by a taser discharge, I assume by the Polish secret services.
In Gran Canaria, the Spanish intelligence services have tried to kill me with the Taser.
In Fiji, on the island of Viti Levu, a Mossad girl tried to kill me with a glass of poisoned wine.
In Uganda, Rwanda and Tanzania, local agents, coordinated by the CIA, tried to kill me with the Taser.
In Dubai, first agents of the Italian secret services, then agents of the Mossad, tried to kill me.
In China and Vietnam, Mossad agents who infiltrated a chain of youth hostels tried to kill me with the Taser.
In Indonesia, Polish secret agents tried to kill me. Most probably, they operated under the cover of the local Catholic Church. I don't know how they wanted to kill me, but certainly in an elaborate way, as one of these agents was a lookalike of me.
All this took place between autumn 2004 (Sicily) and spring 2014 (Sumatra). And let's leave the rest aside, so as not to bore the reader.
It is understandable that what I have described so far might seem paradoxical, but there are documents on this, as my open letter to the Prime Minister of Vietnam, published on the Prime Minister's website; there is the copy of a the complaint I made in a police station in Gran Canaria, and more.
It is said that, among my contemporaries, Fidel Castro is the one who escaped the greatest number of assassination attempts. In all honesty, I don't know if this record should not be attributed to Melchiorre Gerbino.

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