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See the consequences of what concocted by Emperor Constantine!

The Roman Dwarf who cannot rule the world by the sword

by Melchiorre Paolo Gerbino, the director of 'Mondo Beat' magazine     -     leader of the Contestation

I published an essay on the Vatican, on the website of the Publishing House Asefi-Terziaria, Milan, in the second half of September 2003. This assay, entitled Baby Jesus wants me Terrone (Il Bambino Gesù mi vuole terrone) was published in English and Italian.
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 were about the policy Pope Pius XII had pursued in post-Fascist Italy and about 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, less than three months after he had published my essay. Once I noticed the event, I left my hometown Calatafimi, in Sicily, and I went to Milan. I was in a morgue in Milan on the morning of the 11 December, where about forty people met to pay the last respects to Gianfranco Monti. As a shocking surprise, Gianfranco Monti didn't rest in the rigor mortis, but the features of his face were upset. A bandage had been stretched over his mouth to hide one last expression of suffering. Breaking the silence, the widow of Gianfranco Monti, Donatella, addressing me said: - "Do you see how he turned purple?".
However, the widow, perhaps suggested by someone, gave approval for the cremation of her husband's body, even if the autopsy had not been performed and even if the cremation was not in their family tradition. Cremation took place on December 17th.
Being Asefi-Terziaria a family-run publishing house, Gianfranco's death reduced his activity, nobody would take care anymore of my essay "Baby Jesus wants me terrone". If Gianfranco Monti was murdered, as I suspected, the reason was to silence the arguments my essay was causing.
I travelled to Mombasa, Kenya, two months after Gianfranco Monti's death. I stayed in Mombasa from February 21 to March 20, 2004, during that time I converted to Islam.
Back to Italy, I stayed in Milan until the end of April and then I returned to my hometown Calatafimi, where I owned a farm with a house.

I was in Calatafimi on May 14 and in the evening of that day I went to the communal museum, to meet Anita Garibaldi, a great granddaughter of Giuseppe Garibaldi. She was invited by the mayor Nicola Cristaldi to preside over the commemorations of the Battle of Calatafimi (15 May, 1860). But I felt perplexed, after I went to hug her, becauser I perceived she was frosty with me. Her behaviour was strange, since we were familiar. I had been introduced to her and her cohabitant, Professor Salvatore Spinello, in a nightclub in Rome years before, on the occasion of other celebrations of Giuseppe Garibaldi. On that occasion Professor Spinello gave me his business card and said: "I am a great master of Freemasonry, call me". Since I was curious about Freemasonry, I called him a few days later and I was promptly invited to the home of Anita Garibaldi, where I was introduced to a number of people.
Telling now a bit of my relationship with Professor Spinello and Anita Garibaldi, on that occasion of our first meeting, since we were discussing the kind of policy that the Vatican pursues in those countries where there is a large Italian community, I said: "As a first step, the Pope usually sends a nuncio with plans to introduce the Mafia". To which Professor Spinello interrupted me with an abrupt gesture, to my surprise, since I had noticed from my reading on the Freemasons how ferociously anti-papist they are (They see the Antichrist in the Pope and crush his ring three times under their feet !).
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 give birth to our "Confessione di Piazza del Gesù", and this in the aim to bring the Light to Italian Catholics, who until then had been 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 anybody as inscrutable and paradoxical as Salvatore Spinello. During the Second World War, he had fought like Rambo and had been decorated with a silver medal, but because of his paradoxical nature he had never learned to swim and was terrified by the masses of water... At the time, he was the great master of a lodge where no one came, except the owner of the premises almost every day, who threatened with eviction, if he had not been promptly paid for seven months of unpaid rent. To the owner of the premises Professor Spinello presented the most incredible justifications. As soon as the owner had 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 how many of them he could find again and how much money he could get from them, to pay the owner of the premises, and finally he prepared a memorandum for a secretary, which was imaginary, but whose advent was awaited... But then, in this state of neglect of the Lodge, suddenly appeared the head of a branch of the Italian security services, a gentleman who had previously introduced the Professor to the head of a branch of the American security services, who had tested the Professor for the assignement of a job as a CIA referent in Italy (but the professor complained that eventually this job was entrusted to Antonio Di Pietro)... Or could a high-ranking police superintendent arrive, telling the Professor about all the murders that took place recently among the policemen, and among the carabinieri, and between carabinieri and policemen (I was not allowed to attend such meetings, I was given a vague information by the Professor)... Or 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, a part of whose articles he wanted to modify, a part bettered, some deleted, 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 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 him, and I found the Professor more discredited and more alone than before, but he still stubbornly persisted to go nowhere. Then I understood that 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 those Masons who crush the Pope's ring.
Finally, what I understood about Salvatore Spinello was that, under the cover of a great master of Freemasonry, he was acting on behalf of the Vatican, but I did not know to what extent, since he never told me about it. For my part, I have never made a mystery of how I thought negatively of the Vatican.
On the contrary, I had no difficulty in figuring out who Anita Garibaldi was. She was a person of common intelligence and poor culture, who believed she had charisma because she was a descendant of Giuseppe Garibaldi. At every public event in which she participated, she got her cue from Professor Spinello about what to say and how to say it, 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, because, for the first time, I could not understand her. Nor could the explanation of her doing be connected to the fact that she had been invited by the mayor Nicola Cristaldi, who didn't like me. Mayor Nicola Cristaldi, who is another actor in the story I am describing, had been much criticized by me in political rallies, because he was trying to get a second term as mayor of Calatafimi by changing his political line, moving from fervent secular positions to a clerical servility. Cristaldi’s clerical servility was grotesque, since, in cahoots with fraudolent priests, he was planning the erection of three large Catholic statues in the archaeological park of Segesta, a place where, if three statues were to be erected, they should be those of Aeneas, Alcibiades and Cicero. Moreover, Cristaldi's political servility was also sinister, due to the arson of the premises where the elders of Calatafimi used to gather. There, after the fire, a statue of a Catholic idol, Padre Pio, had been erected at the expense of the Municipality.

On May 15, I participated in the celebrations of the Battle of Calatafimi on the Hill of Pianto Romano. There Anita Garibaldi delivered a speech, with which she insisted on the Christian roots of Europe, while Nicola Cristaldi, strutting in his band of mayor, was repeatedly kissing 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.

Until September 13, I worked on the restoration of the house in my farm, when, on that day, I was informed that they wanted to poison me. This happened in the late afternoon, when I was in Piazzetta Beato Arcangelo Placenza in Calatafimi, in front of a bar where I had drunk a coffee. A person, whom I did not know, came towards me, gesticulating and speaking aloud: "Oh, Signor Gerbino! - he said - Can I ask you for an autograph?". Since I was very well known in Italy because of my many participations in the"Maurizio Costanzo Show", a famous talk show, where, speaking of my travels around the world I had recorded the highest audience, I was used to the people who asked an autograph.
This gentleman spoke without dialectal inflection, he was about 1.80 tall, had a massive body, dark hair, age between forty and fifty, he wore lightly colored lenses, a brown summer suit and Timberland brown moccasins. 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 of when he arrived.
I decided to go back to my farm and lie down in a hammock to ponder. Now I was sure that Gianfranco Monti had been poisoned and that my life was in danger.

This was not the first time that my life was in danger because of the Vatican that wanted me dead.
A first attempt to kill me was organized in April 1968, nine months after the dissolution of "Mondo Beat", a movement of which I was the leader. From Mondo Beat was born and spread "La Contestazione", that is, nonviolent mass uprisings for the affirmation of civil rights and for environmental protection. This has happened first in Italy, in 1967, then in France, in 1968 (La Contestation), and then here and there worldwide. Thus, imagine if the Vatican has not tried to kill someone like me! For this purpose, a Vatican spy named Gianni De Martino, who had infiltrated the Mondo Beat 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. I have written a lot on this topic in Italian, in my novel Area di Transito, and succinctly in English, on The human path of a hapless sodomized by Catholic priests.

The second time the Vatican tried to make me die, it was in Calatafimi in September 1988. This was because I was promoting a civil rights campaign in my hometown of Calatafimi. For ten months I held public rallies and posted posters, consequently a fraudulent priest, named Michelangelo Bruccoleri, fled to Ecuador, where he had come from, while two Christian Democrat mayors resigned one after the other, both belonging to the political area of Sergio Mattarella. I had promoted all this on my own, thanks to the freedom of expression guaranteed by the Italian Constitution. But nothing more than the Italian Constitution can annoy Sergio Mattarella! We owe to Sergio Mattarella the Mattarellum, an electoral law that was unconstitutional, aimed at increasing the Vatican's control over Italian politics, and we owe to Sergio Mattarella the creation of Caramafia, that is, the coordination of Carabinieri and Mafiosi, who Mattarella promoted, in Sicily, when he was the supervisor of intelligence services in the government of Romano Prodi and when he was 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 a type of person like me, who made a priest flee and forced two mayors of Mattarella to resign! (Note: at the moment, the year 2017, Sergio Mattarella, who is a Castellammarese, is the President of the Italian Republic).
So they decided to eliminate me during a series of murders that took place, with the frequency of one every week, in September 1988. The attempt to kill me occurred on September 20, 1988, that is, between the murders of magistrate Alberto Giacomelli (September 14, 1988) and the sociologist Mauro Rostagno (September 26, 1988). I do not write the whole story here, because one can read about, in details, in a complaint that I submitted to the Court of Milan, which was later sent, for jurisdiction, to the Court of Trapani, where it was archived (obviously). Instead, I will explain why the Jesuits and their politicians wanted Rostagno, Gerbino and Giacomelli to be dead.
We were in the year 1988, two years after the Chernobyl disaster, which actually marked the defeat of the Soviet Union in the Cold War. The Italian Communist Party, the largest political party in Italy, which had been a satellite of the Soviet Union, was adrift. Therefore, the Jesuits planned the creation of a new political party, to capture the votes of the routed Communists. This party, called "La Rete" (The Net), was founded in Sicily, designed to expand throughout Italy, its direction was assigned to Leoluca Orlando Cascio, a former pupil of the Jesuits. But the Jesuits' plans were hampered by the PSI, which was Prime Minister Bettino Craxi's party, which attracted communists from socialist positions.
The murder of Rostagno and Giacomelli and the attempt to kill Melchiorre Gerbino happened because of this political confrontation between Jesuits and Socialists. In fact, Mauro Rostagno and Melchiorre Gerbino were both actively engaged in favor of the Socialist Party, and both in the same electoral jurisdiction of the Province of Trapani. What the Jesuits feared was that Rostagno and Gerbino could attract the Communists in such a number that in the jurisdiction of Trapani could be elected a Socialist candidate more (and one less of the Vatican area). So, they decided to kill them. Since they had to mobilize the Italian secret services to kill Rostagno and Gerbino, they decided to kill the magistrate Alberto Giacomelli too, to silence him, because he had refused to be an accomplice of the Jesuits in manipulating the judicial cases and knew well their machinations. Alberto Giacomelli was a retired magistrate, the former president of a criminal division at the Court of Trapani.
Since the Jesuits are very sophisticated in conceiving political assassinations (even more refined than the Elders of Zion!) they have commissioned my assassination to the Secretary of the Italian Liberal Party of the Province of Trapani, Rosario De Gaetano, who was a native of my hometown Calatafimi. To kill me, Rosario De Gaetano formed a team of fire with his brothers Francesco, Filippo, Gianfranco, with the surveyor Salvatore Lucido and such Nucciu Pilaturi.
The question that may arise is: Why a provincial secretary of a political party exposed himself to commit murder? Because his political party was very small and he could make the climb, since the Jesuits would help him, to have him available in other circumstances. Rosario De Gaetano was an exalted, a poor devil, who had attempted suicide, shooting himself when he was a teenager.
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!", where I slept some nights. 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, the politicians Sergio Mattarella and Leoluca Orlando Cascio of being the instigators of the murders of magistrate Alberto Giacomelli and sociologist Mauro Rostagno and of the attempt to kill me. Of course, as I have mentioned, my complaint was archived. But the Italian Liberal Party, the PLI, which until then had orbited in the political area controlled by the Vatican, had to change rotation, forced to become a satellite of the Italian Socialist Party, the PSI.
I was in Milan for two and a half months, then I went back to Calatafimi, where I held one more political rally, which was attended by a huge crowd of people. 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, a total of 7 rallies and 2 wall posters. After that I was interviewed by a local TV, the same one in which the sociologist Mauro Rostagno had carried out his political activity. My interview had a high audience, it was replicated, finally it took me to the "Maurizio Costanzo Show", a talk show that made me very popular all over Italy, and not for my political activity, but because people were fascinated by the stories of my travels around the world. But this did not change my life, since I did not decide to be a comedian, but I decided to stay in my trench. There, on the opposite side, I still could see the four De Gaetano brothers, but now they were in deep water. Rosario, the provincial secretary of the Italian Liberal Party, had had his political career truncated, and all the four brothers were teased by the people, they did not receive any more State subsidies for fraudulent projects but, however, their lives would have been saved, because they were protected by Don Giovannino Malerba. Don Giovannino Malerba, who controlled a consistent number of voters on the occasion of the elections, was politically a devotee to the Mattarella Family. This was the reason why he received a lot of subsidies from the Italian State and the European Community. Thus, 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 Gaetanos because he was an uncle of them, their mother being a Malerba. Indeed, Don Giovannino himself had suggested their candidacy for the dirty work to be done in Calatafimi, even if for appearances he would have kept them at a distance. Furthermore, the priest Diego Taranto, who was the moral authority of the city, had also favored the four De Gaetano for the dirty jobs 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 had ended in a storm, then Don Diego, in a sermon, would have made it understandable that he was referring to them when he spoke of the pains that God inflicts on the children of those who leave the path of true faith! But Don Diego's work would have ended there, he would not have interfered with the crimes of the mobsters. So, thanks to Don Giovannino Malerba, the four De Gaetano were not physically eliminated because of their inefficiency, but were kept in a state of terror, to the point that Rosario, the former secretary of the PLI, walked the streets side by side with his ten-year-old son, fearing they would shoot him. Neither 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. Not even Nucciu Pilaturi was killed. The poor, first had lost his girlfriend because of the priest Michelangelo Bruccoleri who had taken her away from him, then, instead of thanking me, that I had pushed the priest away from Calatafimi, he had been ordered to shoot me (see the nuances of the code of honor of the Mafiosi!). All these people were traumatized seeing me in flesh and blood in Calatafimi and humiliated in seeing me on TV. Meanwhile, the Jesuits sighed in resignation, while their pupils Sergio Mattarella and Leoluca Orlando Cascio had postponed the moment to have the practice of protection money introduced in Calatafimi. The carabinieri, who had not heard anything unusual or seen anything suspicious, were happy in the clouds.

So, it was the third time that they tried to put an end to my life. It was September 2004. I had just turned 65.
Taking for granted that the secret services would collaborate with the local mafia, I had to try to figure out who among the mobsters would have moved against me. And then reflect on the people who had power in Calatafimi.
So, 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 he was also the local reference man for the secret services and the mobsters in collaboration with each other.
And his four nephews De Gaetano? 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 at the Italian school in Istanbul, as a professor of mathematics. 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 dirty job... After living for some years in Istanbul, Gianfranco De Gaetano was transferred to Asmara, in Eritrea, where he taught for a few years, and then returned to Calatafimi, where he hobtained funding from the European Community for the realization of a project of the kind "farm holidays". Once realized, he called that structure "Villa del Bosco" (Villa in the Woods)... When a person is born under a lucky star! He was also fortunate that in the meantime the road which leads from Calatafimi to Villa del Bosco was redone and the electric piling implanted for the first time in that rural area! And the all was so well done that you would not 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 to be in Switzerland!...
So, Villa del Bosco, where one could see a tourist guest once in a blue moon, was a facade. In reality, Gianfranco De Gaetano worked in the secret services... Having considered this, some particulars of my recent relationship with him emerged in my mind. Indeed, Gianfranco had done his best to re-establish good relations with me, always in coincidental encounters at the home of common friends. In those occasions, he had tried to lure me with: It's water under the bridge! Let us forget!
Then, I realized that such Salvatore Giurintano, nicknamed Orso (Bear), with whom I had cut relations in 1988, recently had acted with me in the same manner as Gianfranco De Gaetano. There was no doubt that Orso belonged to the organized crime, since he had received a State subsidy for the cultivation of oregano (!) with which subsidy instead he had built a stone house on the top of a hill.
Before I continue with my story, I think it is the case that I explain why in Sicily, and generally in Southern Italy, they give many State subsidies for fake projects and seldom for true ones. This, simply because the Vatican doesn't want that Sicily and Southern Italy develop, and furthermore because in this way the Vatican can have squads of criminals at its own service (those who get subsidies for fake projects).
So, back to Orso, he had maneuvered for restoring relations with me, when in summer time, in the evenings, people in Calatafimi spent time in the Communal garden. Then Orso had tried, until he had got me. Now, establish good relation with somebody to kill is a Mafioso trick, since it becomes easier to commit the murder. 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 also how Orso had monitored my car in the last weeks. In fact, every time I came from my farm to Calatafimi, driving through Via Alcide De Gasperi, I could see Orso coming out from the pizzeria he owns, or I could see him leaning against a railing and looking in direction of my car. If not Orso, then, inevitably, I would have seen his brother Rocco, who acted in the same way... So it was logical to assume that my car had been electronically controlled. The brothers De Gaetano and their team were equipped with electronic devices already sixteen years before now, at the time of that other attempt against my life, imagine how they were equipped now, after the giant steps taken by electronic technology!
In the end, I remembered that recently I had seen Alberto Provenzano at the wheel of his car, and he had shown a grimace of vindictive anger towards me. Provenzano had been the town clerk of my hometown, Calatafimi. About him, without mentioning his name, I had written in Baby Jesus wants me terrone "Under the Presidency of the Socialist Pertini, when Craxi was the Socialist Prime Minister, there was a political attempt made at modernizing Italy and funds were assigned to local governments for the computerization of their services. In municipalities subject to Vatican control, which was the case in Calatafimi, a plan was put in motion to buy obsolete computers, and those responsible for the plan were rewarded by promotion from Municipal to Provincial jobs!"...
In fact, those computers 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 obsolete computers to hinder progress, 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, who throws his weight on that province... So, finally, I understood the reason why Provenzano made that vengeful grimace towards me, he did because he knew that they prepared 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 after dark and I looked for Orso, who used to spend his free time there. I met him at Bar Segesta and I asked him to speak face to face. Then I told him: "I have to give you a bad news" - at that, Orso had a kind of heart attack, since he thought something fatal had happened to his wife or one of his children. I gave him time to suffer. Then I said to him: "I know what is happening, I mean that I know you are preparing an attack against my life. You immediately warn Alberto Provenzano about it!"- and I left him at a loss for words.

I stayed at home on the 14th. I prepared an inscription "Melchiorre Gerbino announces his conversion to Islam" and I printed it on a Kenyan flag.
I had bought that flag in Kenya years ago, that flag came to my mind because my conversion to Islam had taken place in Kenya. By chance, that flag had the perfect size to decorate a balcony in my mother's house, which was in line with a balcony of the City Hall where many flags waved.

The next day I exposed the flag from my mother's balcony. My mother lived alone, so she was the only person who could object. In fact, she was worried about the reaction that the priest Diego Taranto could 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.
Inevitably, his coffin had to pass under the flag of Islam, so the authorities didn't take part in his funeral. Otherwise there would have been the bishops of Trapani and Mazara del Vallo with a swarm of clergymen and a group of deputies and senators led by Sergio Mattarella. None of them was behind the coffin, each one had adduced an excuse. They requisitioned the school children, who marched 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 somebody to the career of magistrate in the aim of putting this person in cahoots with deviated secret services and Mafiosi; nor that it could be a crime to manipulate the ballots in the electoral section Chiesa Nuova for having Nicola Cristaldi re-elected mayor of Calatafimi; nor that could be a crime to participate in the murder of Melchiorre Gerbino, since all this would have been done for the good of the Church.

Returning to the chronological order of the events, I felt that everything was normal on the 16th, 17th and 18th of September, so in those days I worked intensively on the restoration of my house. At my farm I can feel if everything is normal from birdsong, something changes in their singing if someone moves on the farm.

On September 19, one Sunday, I arrived at Bar Grazia, in the Sasi neighborhood, at 7 am, to watch a Moto GP race. If I remember well, it was the Japanese Grand Prix. I do not have TV at home, because I do not want to waste time, but I watched the MotoGP races because I liked to see what Valentino Rossi is able to do with a motorcicle.
It was about 7:30 in the morning 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, thank you". So he walked toward 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 his heart).
If I had not been warned that they wanted to poison me, I would not have been suspicious (and then, suspicious of Maurizio Saccaro! We were great friends, to the point that I had lent him money, for quite some time, and I had not solicited him to return that money).
I got up and followed him into the other room, where I asked the bartender to make me a light coffee. After that, I went back to my table, followed by Maurizio Saccaro, who bore his cup of coffee, and we sat together to sip.
After a while, two marshals of the Carabinieri, dressed in plain clothes, entered the bar. One of them was Marshal Maiorana, the other, I do not know what his name was, had a fleshy face, a prominent nose, was in his forties, assigned to the Calatafimi barracks. Almost with them, a few seconds later, the surveyor Salvatore Lucido entered the bar, that person who prepares the applications for the approval of Italian and European subsidies for fraudulent projects (given that he has some homonyms in Calatafimi, I have to give the telephone number of his office: 0924951358). The three men stood together, looking in my direction. When they understood that Maurizio Saccaro had failed to poison me, as I was drinking my coffee happily, they left. After a while, Saccaro also left. I must say that the face of the marshal Maiorana was tense and displeased, the face of the other marshal was professional, while that of the surveyor Salvatore Lucido was a little sardonic.
So, 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 had been seized by an illness, while someone else would have readily taken me to the Hospital of Alcamo, where a doctor, a friend of the friends, would have certificated that I was dead because of a heart attack. Then someone would have produced a false testament in which I stated that I wanted to be cremated in case of death (to contest the Vatican!). Since they could not hold my funeral in a church, because I had converted to Islam, they would have held a ceremony in the town hall, where Mayor Nicola Cristaldi would have said: "Of course, there has been some disagreement between this municipal administration and Melchiorre Gerbino. But it is not normal that in a democratic system there can be disagreements? Melchiorre Gerbino was a famous citizen of this town. HE IS A FAMOUS CITIZEN, BECAUSE HE IS ALIVE! (standing ovation)...therefore, the municipal councilors have unanimously decreed that the funeral should be held at the expense of the City of Calatafimi" and the crematorium would have been ready.

On the morning of the 20th, I drove to the Tre Croci neighborhood, where the Franciscan friar Bernardo Critti owned a country house. We were friends, so I gave him a copy of my essay "Baby Jesus wants me Terrone" and told him about how they had tried to poison me. I asked him if he could stop the course of events. Father Bernardo was an important clergyman, very close to the cardinal primate of Sicily.

From 20 to 22 September, I intensely worked on the restoration of my home. In those days I often went to Calatafimi to buy materials for the restoration. Every time I passed in front of the carabinieri barracks, which were on my way, I noticed three or four cars, with civil plates, which had never been parked there. 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 had relations with the De Gaetano brothers, that is Giuseppe Scandariato, called Pippineddu, who worked at Villa del Bosco; Gaetano Pampalone, nicknamed Scarafaggio (Cockroach), who was a cousin of the De Gaetano brothers ... moreover, I was stalked by the municipal librarian Giovanni Bruccoleri, brother of that priest Michelangelo Bruccoleri who had fled to Ecuador.
Moreover, I was wondering who actually was Nathan, the only tourist in Villa del Bosco, with whom I entertained myself at night in a kiosk in the communal garden. Sometimes he came to my farm, where, enraptured by nature, he got lost for hours. He had told me he was an American scholar, who spent time between Calatafimi and Modica for historical researchs. 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!
Furthermore, Camillo Rizzo, after a month of absence, had returned to Calatafimi. He was a man of the mayor Nicola Cristaldi, who was responsible for the municipal website. Now he had a powerful car and a Taser device, disguised as a lighter. Camillo Rizzo had come to my farm and tried to hit me with the Taser.
Finally, I noticed that even the lawyer Gaspare Denaro was involved in the affair. It happened that I temporarily changed my car with one of my brothers, who had a bigger trunk, and I went to Alcamo to buy some material for the restoration of my house. Since they controlled my car electronically, when they saw another person behind the wheel, they thought I was trying to escape, and they quickly arranged check points in every road that connected the town with the surrounding territory. On my return from Alcamo, I saw Calatafimi manned by Mafiosi, and among them there was the lawyer Gaspare Denaro. This person had received a state grant forty years before, to create a cooperative of wine producers, but this cooperative in forty years hadn't produced a single bottle of wine! I don't know what has been done during 40 years on the premises of this cooperative, certainly something criminal.
Thus, having considered that I could have escaped, the Mafiosi have tightened control over me, mobilizing the cattle ranchers, who control the crucial points in the territory of Calatafimi.

On the morning of the 23rd, Maurizio Saccaro 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 affair of my murder, had failed at all. 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 farm 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 in Milan and told him that they were trying to kill me in Calatafimi. Galliani was writing a story about my life in a book that was to be published by Shake Editions.
To alarm even more the secret services, I asked Galliani to print 100 copies of a poster, which I would have exposed to the public, and I dictated a text 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 film director Francesco Galli would soon come to Calatafimi to interview me, but he didn’t promise that he would print the mural poster, because he was overworked.
Then, moving with self-assurance, I went 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 the house.

In the following days, the number of secret agents, who pretended to be tourists, increased in Calatafimi, and another carabinieri car arrived, with four agents. But I felt 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. So I had time to dedicate myself to the restoration of the house. As I worked, 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 still did not know that they wanted to kill me. Then Mrs. Ballarati asked me if I was going to Rome, because she was organizing cultural events and would have appreciated my presence. I must say that at that time I received several calls from people who wanted me, as I was famous for 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 had asked for, I received calls from people who had forgotten who they were and, to be kind, I simulated that I remembered them. Mrs. Ballarati was one of them. During her first call she had asked - "Do you remember who I am?" - and I had replied - "I remember well, 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 the Great Master of the Most Serene Grand Mystical Lodge of the A.L.A.M.! That senile Narcissus who had reduced himself to the role of the Luca Brasi of Karol Wojtyla.
So, I realized that, first Salvatore Spinello had tried to make me come to Rome to kill me there (this was the reason of the first call of Mrs. 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 kill me in Rome (this was the reason of the second call of Mrs. Ballarati).
I left this message on the phone of Ballarati: "My greetings to Turiddu". (Turiddu was the nickname I had given to Salvatore Spinello, with whom he was called by those who were close to him).
From that moment on, even Salvatore Spinello would have been forced to play cards face up.
Two hours after I had sent my message, I received one 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 Mrs. Ballarati, there were two weeks of stalemate, during which Salvatore Spinello was reorganizing the plan to kill me, while I had been 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, Maurizio Saccaro ran over to me, the one who had tried to poison me twice, and with a resentful air asked "Why are you angry with me?". At once I went back to my car and drove quickly to the farm. I promptly called a friend of mine, Mrs Pinuccia Bartolini, in Milan, and I 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 that give 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 what I will tell now, 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 deal with the Turks are on the Internet. Gianfranco De Gaetano is 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 the relationship of Gianfranco De Gaetano with the Turks.

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

On October 9th and 10th I worked on my farm. In those two days I left messages on many people's cell phones. I mentioned names and facts in those messages, to leave memory of events, in case I would have been killed.
Of those who have received a message from me, the most cowardly of them, by irony of his fate called Libero (Free), has left this message on my phone "How dare you take this liberty with me?".
On the phone of Anna Maria Ballarati, the lady who had invited me to go to Rome, I left this message "Stay away from the couple of murderers! Repent! Convert to Islam!".
Anna Maria Ballarati returned my message, adding to it "You’ve got the wrong person!"

In the early afternoon of October 11, Nathan, along with another person, arrived unannounced on my farm, while I was relaxing in a hammock under an olive tree. They waited ten meters away from me, but I didn't move, I said I could not receive anyone because I was busy. Nathan insisted that he wanted to introduce his American friend, but I reaffirmed that I was not able to receive them. So they left. I realized that both of twere Jews, but not American Jews, most likely they were Israelis... Thus, the Zionist Carlo De Benedetti, who does the dirtiest jobs for the Vatican (I already mentioned the sale of obsolete computers to delay the development of Southern Italy) called these guys, who brought, from Israel, sophisticated equipment for environmental monitoring, to support those who want to kill me. In fact, those who are stalking me in Calatafimi, have something in their pockets, which they manipulate. If this sophisticated equipment, tested on my skin, would later be adopted by organized crime in Southern Italy, Carlo De Benedetti would have made a good deal...

I worked hard on the farm between 11 and 14 October. During that time, when I went to Calatafimi, I had the feeling that the pressure around me had eased, because Salvatore Spinello was controlling Gianfranco De Gaetano's connection with the Turks, and because he knew that someone would come soon to Calatafimi for interview me.
On October 14th, Marco Philopat Galliani, the one who was writing a book about my life, called from Milan and confirmed the arrival in Calatafimi of film director Francesco Galli. Furthermore, he told me that Gianni De Martino (the spy who was involved in the attempt to murder me in Marrakech) had requested an appointment. I asked Galliani to throw him out of the publishing house. He assured me he would do 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 the 16th, traveling to Naples, where they were shooting a movie.
I was lucid enough to understand that I would be intercepted, if I left Calatafimi together with them, and then I would disappeare in a bath of acid. 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 17 and 20 October a new encirclement of local mobsters, coordinated with the secret services, was organized around me.

From a phone call from Marco Philopat Galliani, who had met with the spy Gianni De Martino, sent to him by Salvatore Spinello, I realized that Galliani had abandoned me. He was scared. I interrupted my relationship with him, so as 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 the farm, because I could easily be kidnapped.
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 whom 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. As soon as they saw me they left together. 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 socialist. Recently he had been in my house to restore a piece of furniture... Perhaps Gianfranco De Gaetano was delivering to Mariano Maimone that famous testament in which I stated I wanted to be incinerated in case of death?
That night I slept in my car, parked in the heart of the town, in 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 the Gennaro, Pedone, Gerardi families. I did not touch my car all 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 cell phone of Mayor Nicola Cristaldi. He had disappeared from Calatafimi since a couple of weeks. He was in Rome, waiting that my murder had happened.
I wanted to let him know that I had understood about the fake testament that my carpenter would have produced after my death, so I left this message on his phone "I was told about the new mission you assigned to my carpenter Mariano Maimone. Congratulations! Melchiorre Gerbino".
Because I wanted this message to be read also by Grand Master Salvatore Spinello, I left a copy on Rizzo's mobile phone, the one who had tried to hit me with a Taser disguised as a lighter.
After that, I walked around the city, to see what the situation was like. It was the same as the day before, the cattle ranchers waiting that I would have driven towards my farm to kidnap me or poison me by force. In fact, late in the morning, when I went to my car and drove towards my farm, cattle ranchers also went to their cars. But I did not go to the farm. As soon as I was in front of the carabinieri barracks, I stopped the car and went out.
I rang the bell and the door opened. I entered the building and went into the waiting room. There was no one. But soon a carabiniere arrived and said: - "Good morning, Mr. Gerbino".
I said - "Good morning, I would file a complaint".
The carabiniere said: "Please wait a moment".
There had been a sort of fair play between me and the carabinieri. They had shown, all of them, that they were unhappy with the work they were doing. I, for my part, 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 with cordiality. He asked me: "What is it, Mr. Gerbino?"
I said that I suspected that the publisher Gianfranco Monti had been murdered and I had no doubt that my life was threatened by the four De Gaetano brothers and those who stalked me, and I denounced their names. I also said that I suspected that a couple of tourists staying at Villa del Bosco were Israeli agents who involved in the affair.
So, Sergeant Maggitti and I worked together to formalize the complaint. We did it in a flourishing Italian style (aware of the fact that "Italy is the very cradle of law").
Having asked and obtained a copy of this complaint, after a handshake, I left Sergeant Maggitti and returned to my car and into the city.
Then I decided to hit Grand Master Salvatore Spinello in his narcissism, hoping he would lose control of himself. So I left this message on the cell phone of Anna Maria Ballarati - "Please, tell Professor Spinello: 'Old, failed, murderer, such is your pettiness that you do not have the dignity to kill yourself!' ". Also, I left a 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, in order to infuriate the Grand Master at the utmost.
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 waiting that I drove towards my farm. But I did not do it. I spent the day in Calatafimi.
In the afternoon, two newly arrived tourists, who someone told me were housed in Villa del Bosco, were wandering around the city. These two new tourists looked Jews. It seemed impossible to me that the CIA would have sent four agents all of them Jews! I thought they were Israelis. Then, I considered that the other two agents, Nathan and the one who had come with him to my farm, had disappeared from Calatafimi, and this after my complaint to the Carabinieri.
On the evening of that Sunday 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 the people were still numerous in the streets. 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, talking about me, told her husband: "He is approaching here". But, since I'm 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 time that Filippo De Gaetano had stopped his car behind me. He had an angry look on his face, because he had not arrived in time 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 ordered to kill me at any cost, by any means. He would have handled the deal of my murder well, since the Vatican runs the judiciary in Sicily, they would have blamed and condemned an anarchist, so that they could eliminate two enemies at the same time.
I leaned against a railing, at a distance that he could not reach me with a gun shot, and I started grimacing in the direction of Filippo De Gaetano, in order to make him mad, so that he would have chased me among the people with the gun in his hand.
But De Gaetano was able to control himself.
After a while, I left, to seek refuge under the stairs of my mother's house.

On the morning of October 25, 2004, Calatafimi is deserted like an uninhabited city. You can see some shadows which immediately fade away. This is the day Melchiorre Gerbino will be killed and people have been warned.
In Piazza Plebiscito, not far from my Fiat Panda, an imposing car with smoked windows is parked, that of the cattle breeder Pedone. Pedone sits under the statue of Garibaldi and with him sit such Michele and the municipal librarian Giovanni Bruccoleri, brother of the Reverend that I made to escape at night to Ecuador, of which now he wants to avenge the honor.
I'm leaning on my car.
We all pretend nothing special is happening.
After a while, I begin to stroll up and down in the square, then I go to my mother's house, which is next to the square, but it is not visible from the statue of Garibaldi where the three sit. I open the door, enter and lock myself inside, there I stay a couple of minutes. Then I go out and go back to Piazza Plebiscito to my car, which I open to look for something I cannot find. Then I leave the car open and return in fast steps to the house of my mother, but when I'm out of sight of the three, I go down an alley that starts from one side of the house. When I arrive in Corso Garibaldi, I walk phlegmatically, in the middle of the street. Calatafimi seems deserted. The balconies all closed. Nobody wants to witness the killing of Melchiorre Gerbino. In Piazza Pietro Nocito, almost in front of the De Gaetano brothers' house, there is an arch from which a very steep road starts, in which I enter, and I descend it. I walk through the Aciddittu district. I arrive on the ring road. There I immediately block a truck, which is coming, putting me in front of it. At the wheel there is Paolo Donato, a guy I know well, for his motocross races. Paolo opens the door for me. I climb. I say to him, "I'm sick, I have something that hurts my heart. Where are you going? ". "I am going to Trapani - he replies - There I can leave you in a hospital" (incidentally, there are no hospitals in Calatafimi). "Thanks, yes - I say - Allow me to lie down in your bunk, please" - and I do 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 coming with the truck.
After a half-hour trip, we arrived in Trapani.
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! ". And I - "Madam, how much I would like so, but how can I promise it, with all the commitments I have".
I left Oristano by train at 13.20 and I arrived in Olbia at 16.30. From there I immediately took a bus to Palau and from Palau another bus to Santa Teresa di Gallura, where I arrived at 21. But it was too late to board a ferry to Corsica. I had dinner at the "Azzurra" restaurant and spent the night hidden among myrtle bushes, not to be registered in a hotel.
At 7.30 am on October 27th, I left Santa Teresa di Gallura onboard of a "Saremar" ferry and an hour later I disembarked in Bonifacio, France.
I had a few hundred euros with me, the driving license and the skin under the shirt, by God's will.

I will tell somewhere else of the many times and how they have tried to kill me again.
It is usually said that Fidel Castro is the one who has escaped to more assassination attempts.
In all honesty, I do not know if this record is not to be assigned to me. Only the CIA and the Mossad know this, since in addition to their own dirty jobs they also perform those for the Roman Dwarf.

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