Thursday, March 1, 2012

Frank Morales


Networks: NYC 9/11 Truth

Group contacts: Michael Schultz, Richard Frager, Petros Evdokas


Seedy Episcopalian priest in the new york activists scene, Frank Morales is rumored to have been rejected by the Roman Catholic Church as "too creepy, even for us". Plus, to the best of anyone's knowledge, Morales has never been interested in little boys. Crushed by this rejection, Morales has spent his adult life trying to make up for his immoral short-comings by becoming a trusted adviser in the New York activist scene, hosting a variety of group meetings in his St. Mark's Church, out fitted with the latest in surveillance gear. One of the groups to benefit from Morales' immoral hospitality was the conspiracy group NYC 9/11 truth, who hosted regular performances by brainwashed cult clown Nico Haupt.

But it wouldn't be until 2007 Morales had an opportunity to redeem himself in his twisted eyes by, ahem, "helping" Teresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake who were fleeing attacks in California from the Church of Scientology. Playing Good Samaritan, Morales offered them shelter and protection, while listening to their troubles, carefully taking notes for his not-so-ex-wife Nancy Jo Sales in the event Duncan and Blake both tragically committed suicide while residing with him and she needed to write a self serving bullshit puff piece about how mentally unstable Duncan and Blake were, and that no way did Morales have anything to do with their murder, er, "suicide". And wouldn't you know it, a couple months later...tragically...Duncan and Blake committed "suicide".

What a coincidence! Here's how is was supposed to go down:

On a rainy October night in Washington, D.C., the friends and family of Jeremy Blake gathered for a private memorial service at the Corcoran Gallery of Art. Blake, an art-world star acclaimed for his lush and moody “moving paintings,” shape-shifting innovations mixing abstract painting and digital film, had ended his life on the night of July 17, walking into the Atlantic Ocean off Rockaway Beach, Queens, never to return.
“I am going to join the lovely Theresa,” Blake, 35, had written on the back of a business card, which he left on the beach, along with his clothes. Police helicopters searched for him for days on the chance he might still be alive. Friends prayed that he was, talking of how his passport was missing, he had bought a ticket to Germany. Then on July 22, a fisherman found his body floating 4.5 miles off Sea Girt, New Jersey.

“The lovely Theresa” was Theresa Duncan, a writer, filmmaker, computer-game creator, and Blake’s girlfriend of 12 years. He had found her lifeless body on July 10, in the rectory of St. Mark’s Church in Manhattan’s East Village, where the couple had been renting an apartment. There was a bowl full of Benadryl pills, a bottle of Tylenol PM, and a champagne glass on the nightstand. There was a note saying, “I love all of you.” Duncan was 40. The last post on her blog, “The Wit of the Staircase,” was a quote from author Reynolds Price about the human need for storytelling and the impossibility of surviving in silence.


In their final days in New York, Blake and Duncan would seek refuge from the demons they believed were chasing them in the company of a radical Episcopalian priest, Frank Morales. Morales became one of their closest friends and confidants. He is also my ex-husband. We were married in 2004 and separated in 2006, a few months before he met the couple. The day after Jeremy Blake disappeared, Frank showed up at my door. He was visibly upset and said he wanted to talk. “What about?,” I asked. I hadn’t seen him in months. He started to tell me the story. “He slipped through our fingers,” Frank said of Blake.
Frank Morales, tasteless as always. Why Vanity Fair accepted a story from the prime suspect's exwife is strange. Guess VF journalistic standards have gone down the toilet. So does the article[ UPDATE 1/11/13:  POSSIBLY NOT WRITTEN BY SALES.  FOR MORE HERE]:


In a letter dated August 9, 2006, Blake and Duncan’s landlord in Venice, California, Sabrina Schiller, informed them that they had to move out. The neighbors on either side of their quaint Craftsman bungalow had told her, Schiller said, that they were “determined to seek police protection if necessary.”
A statement in support of their eviction was taken from one of the neighbors, Katharine O’Brien, 25, then the girlfriend of indie movie producer Brad Schlei (Swingers, Dogtown). Earlier in the year, Schlei, a collector of Blake’s work, had hired him to direct an adaptation of the George Pelecanos novel Nick’s Trip.
“On the evening of May 9, 2006,” said O’Brien’s statement, “Theresa approached my bungalow and rapped on the window. Upon opening the door I was immediately greeted with the following questions>… Theresa said to me, ‘Jeremy and I have started a club where we’ve found a bunch of old men and we’re letting them fuck us in the ass, and we wanted to know if you wanted to be a part of it.’ I asked Theresa if she was joking. She said ‘no’ and repeated herself. I asked if she was trying to imply something about the age difference between my boyfriend and me.” (Schlei is 41.) “She said ‘no,’ smiled, and walked away.
There's no evidence of this proposition apart from Obrien's statement and no evidence Duncan was in the habit of seeking rough trade or inviting neighbors to join in. But it is the kinda of lie Scientologists engaged in fairgame make up since L.Ron Hubbard was such a raging homophobe accusing people of being gay or wanting anal is second nature to them. The fact Morales' ex thinks this is something to publish about a dead person who can't defend herself, proves Sales is a whoring vulture and Morales is her pimp.

But some facts emerge is this wandering slander with faint praise piece:

Blake wrote of how he and Duncan had been “harassed here to the point of absurdity” by people who were so “paranoid” that it made him “laugh.” He said that they had been “defamed by crazy Scientologists,” threatened and followed by “their thugs.” (The Church of Scientology has denied any knowledge of the couple.) He wrote of how New York was starting to seem like the place for them to be, a place where they could speak “freely” to “exceptional people” and get their projects started.

Beck’s involvement in Scientology was unconfirmed to the public until 2005, when he acknowledged his affiliation in an interview with The New York Times, lauding the sect for its work with illiterate kids and drug addicts. His father, musician David Campbell, who lives in Los Angeles, is also a Scientologist, as is his wife, Marissa.
According to Duncan, sometime in their two-year acquaintance, Beck expressed to her and Blake a desire to leave the church, and they had offered him encouragement and even assistance. “That’s ridiculous. Totally false,” Beck said. “Had we been closer and discussed anything as personal as religion, I would have only had positive things to say about Scientology.”

Duncan e-mailed a friend in late 2006: “[Beck] really, really tried to get away … using going to NY to be in Alice Underground.… He told me he wanted to leave the cult desperately, and this is what they do when someone knows that.” She was referring here to her perception that the Church of Scientology had been harassing her and Blake. “Never heard of these people. This is completely untrue,” Scientology spokeswoman Karin Pouw told the Los Angeles Times.

“They are furious because he valued our way of life far more than Celebrity Center sex trash,” wrote Duncan.

While the missive may be tainted with Duncan’s increasing paranoia, the Scientologists’ “Celebrity Centre” is real. Housed, according to their Web site, in a “Hollywood chateau” in Los Angeles, it caters to the sect’s celebrity members, which famously include actors Tom Cruise and John Travolta, both huge donors to the organization. (Scientology claims 10 million members worldwide.) A representative for Beck said he did not know whether Beck was a donor.


None of what Blake and Duncan said can be proven, and perhaps none of it is true, but sometime in 2004 they began to believe they were being harassed. “I got the sense that they were genuinely afraid,” said one friend. “It wasn’t just weird party conversation. There was a real fear there.”

The friends that Blake and Duncan did keep were increasingly assaulted not only with e-mails but also with long, detailed harangues at their Venice bungalow about the Scientologists’ alleged harassment. Blake wrote a 27-page document encapsulating their claims, which he planned on using as the basis for a lawsuit against the Church of Scientology.

All through the article Morales' ex drops bitchy jabs intending to paint Duncan and Blake as mentally disturbed paranoid nuts who shouldn't be taken seriously. Only someone living in a virtual cave could miss the Scientology/suicide cliche or how suspiciously specific Nancy's attempt to dismiss Duncan's concerns as paranoia. The institutional projection of paranoia by paranoid Scientologists on outsiders is well documented with many lulz. Sales is trying to sell something and her agenda is obvious: protect her hubby Morales at all cost from doing time. Whether or not she's cultist is unknown at this time.

Morales probably is, or is friendly to the orgs. If not he would be an SP and everyone would know about it. The article claims Duncan wanted Morales' rectory flat but doesn't explain how she even knew about it:

When Blake and Duncan moved back to New York in early January of 2007, Duncan very much wanted to get the rectory apartment at St. Mark’s. It was both beautiful, overlooking the church’s garden, and bizarre, allegedly haunted by the ghosts of Edgar Allan Poe and Harry Houdini.
At an interview with the church’s vestry members in January, Duncan spoke animatedly of her and Blake’s many accomplishments; he didn’t say much. She never mentioned why they left their last residence, and the vestry apparently never checked up on their past.

There was just one problem: their funds didn’t seem to be in order, and the three-bedroom apartment was $5,000 a month. (Blake and Duncan later borrowed money for their security deposit from family members.)

But Morales, who saw them as the sort of people who belonged at the church—long a hangout for artists, from Andy Warhol to Allen Ginsberg—walked out of the meeting with them and assured them he would put in a good word. “Jeremy kind of looked at me sideways and said, ‘You’re a priest?’ And I looked back at him and said, ‘You’re an artist?’ We immediately liked each other,” he said.
Amazing the things you can claim once someone's too dead to object. Like implying Duncan had a drinking problem:

She was drinking more frequently, and so was Blake, taking his hip flask of Maker’s Mark whiskey with him sometimes to work. She drank champagne by the bottle—all there ever was in their refrigerator. It was starting to show in their faces; they were looking haggard.
This is subjective bullshit, probably supplied by Morales, himself exonerated by equally subjective bullshit as being innocent and above it all:

Maybe it was Morales’s refreshing lack of knowledge of anything connected with Hollywood that made the couple gravitate so heavily now toward the hip pastor. Or maybe it was his knowledge of subjects which had come to interest them, which other friends of theirs considered a bit nutty. “The U.S. government invaded Iraq on the basis of lies and still some people want to deny the existence of conspiracies,” said Morales.
"Lack of knowledge of anything connected with Hollywood", is an unsupported and suspiciously specific denial. The writer is anticipating someone connecting Morales to Hollywood. Stranger, the writer is assuming that Duncan believed Morales had no Hollywood connection. Obviously thats what Sales wants people to think, but there is no evidence Duncan ever believed that.

On the contrary there is plenty of evidence Frank Morales was familiar with the entertainment industry, and by extension Hollywood from all the fucking videos online being introduced by conspiracy luminaries well known to Hollywood:

Frank Morales Air date:: 09-05-06)

Alex Jones and Frank Morales at Project Censored


Not the work of a entertainment industry virgin. And later the dumb ho Sales let's it slip:

Morales said he knew they had had some trouble in Los Angeles, but he never knew the extent of it, only that they believed the Church of Scientology was harassing them and that they were afraid. “You’re safe here,” he told them. “Theresa would sometimes express fears about being watched. She would say, ‘Look, those men in that car over there are watching us.’ I didn’t have any way of knowing if there was a basis to this. My impulse with these things is always: Let’s investigate.”
He offered to contact his friend Alex Jones about doing a Scientology show on his nationally syndicated radio program (The Alex Jones Show), which specializes in government secrets and conspiracies. Blake liked the idea. In January, he had sent someone an e-mail promoting Jones as a “colorful Texas populist who has hipster credibility.” It was through Jones’s show that he had become familiar with the “9/11 truth movement” and its questioning of the U.S. government’s so-called “official story.” He had e-mailed friends about this too. He now became a semi-regular attendee at the Sunday-night 9/11-truth meetings at St. Mark’s Church, which Morales oversees. Morales said, “He was talking about doing art around 9/11 truth.”
“You’re safe here,” he told them. Black comedy gold.

The inconsistencies and outright lies of Nancy "I'm a Ho" Sales have been noted by other writers:

Though it seemed details surrounding the summer suicides of Jeremy Blake and Theresa Duncan couldn’t get any weirder, I just received an email full of bizarre new twists from Melinda Hunt–a friend of Jeremy and Theresa’s who was at St. Mark’s rectory the night Duncan committed suicide. Hunt challenges Father Frank Morales’ account of what happened that evening, and she questions his professional ethics, as well as his marital status with Nancy Jo Sales, the Vanity Fair writer whose in-depth article on the ill-fated couple is on newsstands now. Writes Hunt:

Thank you for picking up on the inconsistencies in Father Frank Morales’ story [see previous SoMA posts here and here]. It is nice to know that someone is paying attention.
I was a member of the congregation at St. Mark’s, where the deaths of Theresa Duncan and Jeremy Blake were handled so poorly by Father Frank that I wrote a letter of complaint to [New York Bishop Mark] Sisk and left the church. As Theresa Duncan’s minister, Frank performed last rites on her, and then used information concerning her and Jeremy’s deaths to further his own interests and gain inside access for his "ex-wife" Nancy Jo Sales’ Vanity Fair article. Understandably, [Blake's and Duncan's] families are really upset.
Furthermore, Sales’ piece, like other articles covering this story, includes lies and half-truths. Jeremy did not invite Frank Morales up to the apartment for a drink that night, as Frank has claimed. In fact, at the time of her death, Theresa and Jeremy were so suspicious and distrustful of Frank that they avoided him. Here’s what I know did happen:
I was at St. Mark’s on July 10, the night Theresa took her life. At about quarter till seven, Frank called me, inviting me out to dinner. I walked over to the church, where a swarm of police and EMTs had arrived at the rectory’s 11th Street address. The cast-iron stairway had been removed for restoration, and they were trying to figure out how to get all their equipment around the block on a one-way street. I went into the church’s east yard where Frank was waiting for me, and I told him that something was going on at the rectory because the police were there. Frank had no idea what I was talking about, and he was reluctant to get involved with the police. I wanted to know if Jeremy and Theresa were OK.
Frank followed me around to the west garden. The police were already in the rectory and had sealed off the area as a crime scene. We tried to go up to check on Jeremy and Theresa. We could see Jeremy in the living room, but we were denied entry by the NYPD. At that point, I wasn’t thinking suicide. I was wondering, "domestic violence?" but that didn’t make sense.
Back in the garden, I was struck by how slowly the police were moving if this was indeed an emergency, so I asked a police officer, "When is the medical examiner arriving?" He said, "Not for a few hours," and that’s when I knew it was a death, and that it was Theresa’s. I encouraged Frank to go up and perform last rites because I knew she was Catholic and that her family might want a Catholic burial. The police let Frank access the room, but only in his official capacity as a minister. That he then relayed information about the circumstances of her death to the press, and arranged interviews for Sales with Jeremy’s and Theresa’s families, is, I think, a violation of confidentiality and his responsibilities as a minister.
Another half-truth is Sales’ claim in Vanity Fair that she’s Frank Morales’ "ex-wife," and that they "were married in 2004 and separated in 2006, a few months before he met [Duncan and Blake]." Frank and Sales were never legally married, though they celebrated a "spiritual marriage" in a public ceremony. In early 2007, Bishop Sisk informed Frank that he’d violated his vows as a priest by representing himself and Sales as "spiritually married," a relationship for which church doctrine makes no provision. Even if Frank had misled Sales on other facts in the story, she certainly must have known whether or not she was legally married to the man.
The truth is, Frank Morales told me he is legally married to a woman named Lisa Walker who, according to a New York Magazine article, was in prison on Riker’s Island in 2004, the year he "married" Sales. I forwarded the article to Frank this past summer, after the suicides, and he confirmed that Walker is still his wife, though he claimed to have left her 10 years ago.
Oddly, when Nancy Jo Sales first contacted me this past September, she introduced herself to me as "Frank’s wife."

The Vulture Ho responds:

Nancy Jo Sales responds:

Your recent post on Blake and Duncan has several errors and omissions. For starters, the writer, Melinda Hunt, is a former girlfriend of Frank Morales. They broke up right before Duncan died. According to cop sources, Melinda Hunt was not present at the scene of Blake and Duncan’s death, as she claims.* At Jeremy Blake’s memorial service in Washington, in front of several witnesses, Ms. Hunt accosted me and demanded to talk to me about Morales, for whom she seemed to harbor a lot of sore feelings. I told her to go away. I never contacted her about my article in Vanity Fair. A close friend of Theresa Duncan’s informed me that Duncan was not crazy about Hunt, and believed (wrongly, I assume) that she was a member of the Church of Scientology; it was Hunt’s connection with Morales, one source said, that put a chill in Theresa and Jeremy’s relationship with Frank.

Whatever. Morales is a failed conspiracy pimp and people are just dying to see him. We just got this leaked email Morales sent out in 2009:

Subject: RE: NYC 9/11 Ballot Initiative
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009

From: Frank Morales

Nancy and I have started a club where we’ve found a bunch of old men and we’re letting them fuck us in the ass, and we wanted to know if you wanted to be a part of it.
Now the sleazy murdering fucktard knows what it's like to have people make up shit about him, though for all we know it could be true; Nancy seems to like anal stories and if he never got over being rejected by the Catholic Church....

Willing to die for your beliefs? Hang around Frank Morales long enough and he'll make sure you do!

Oh, and he's a friend of Petros Evdokas:

Subject: NYC 9/11 Ballot Initiative
Date: Wed, 22 Apr 2009

From: Frank Morales

To: petros at
CC: mikes0727 at, science at

wikipedia page:


Video mocking Morales

Movie in work based on vulture cunt ho Nancy Sales' article:
The Golden Suicides (2013)

Morales shoots the conspiracy shit with Theresa when she was still breathing: