“Pride, arrogance, conceit, harshness, and ignorance
are the qualities born of the demoniac nature.”
Bhagavad-gétä, 16.4

“I do not know why Tamäla is exercising his absolute authority. That is not the business of G.B.C. The president, treasurer and secretary are responsible for managing the center. G.B.C. is to see that things are going nicely but not to exert absolute authority. That is not in the power of G.B.C.. Tamäla should not do like that.”
Letter to Giriräj, 8-12-71

T.K.G.: This seems like suicide, Çréla Prabhupäda, this program. It seems to some of us like it's suicidal.
Prabhupäda: And this is also suicidal.
T.K.G.: Prabhupäda said, 'And this is also suicide.' Now you have to choose which suicide.
Prabhupäda: The Rävaëa will kill, and Räma will kill. Better to be killed by Räma. That Märéca—if he does not go to mislead Sétä, he'll be killed by Rävaëa, and if he goes to be killed by Räma, then it is better.
T.K.G.: Who is this Prabhupäda's talking about?
Room Conversation, 11-10-77 in Våndävan, India (four days previous to the disappearance)

T.K.G. did tremendous damage to Çréla Prabhupäda's branch of Lord Caitanya's movement, establishing a corrupt mindset that is still active in the fabricated, so-called “ISKCON” confederation. In many ways, “ISKCON” remains his movement, despite him being no longer amongst the living. Nevertheless, from the transcendental perspective--from a viewpoint peering over the long-term future of this middle planet--his maleficence amounts to little more than a speed bump, a blip on the radar screen.

He has not whatsoever affected the prophecy that Lord Caitanya's pure movement will spread, in a genuine way and form, to every town and village of the world. T.K.G., along with Kértanänanda, have merely delayed the spread, that's all. We shall now conclude our analysis of T.K.G. by picking up what went down beginning in 1997 and proceeding to his death in 2002. At the very end of Part Four, we shall summarily analyze his sidereal horoscope.

Houston, We Have a Problem!
(The Specter of '77 Pays a Visit)

“They wanted to create artificially somebody Äcärya, and everything failed. They did not consider even with common sense that, if guru mahäräja wanted to appoint somebody as Äcärya, why did he not say? He said so many things, and this point he missed? The real point. And they insist upon it. They declared some unfit person to become Äcärya. Then another man came, then another . . . And, as soon as he learns the guru mahäräja is dead, 'Now I am so advanced that I can kill my guru, and I become guru.' Then he's finished.”
Room Conversation, 8-16-76 in Bombay

“Bad karma, you suffer. . . If you do something criminal, you'll suffer.”
Perfect Questions, Perfect Answers

“. . . when I saw it was a time for a change.”
The Rolling Stones, “Sympathy for the Devil”

T.K.G. almost became the leading edge of what would have been another blow-out schism (with but a different wing of the Gouòéya-Mutt), but he backed off. He was now left with his “ISKCON” Texas centers and little more. That did not satisfy him, and he saw it was a time for a change. Looking back on developments over the last dozen years, it was clear to him that the academics in “ISKCON” had won the day.

The Second Transformation of the mid-Eighties propelled Professor Blueblood quickly to the top. One of T.K.G.'s fellow pretender mahäbhägavats and a former zonal, The Scholar, had survived almost unscathed, while so many of the other ten had not. That man was also a PhD. Other “ISKCON” devotees—even one of the prominent women in the movement—had cashed in via academia, and their influence in the cult had waxed considerably.

Money was no problem—and T.K.G. had a track record as a spendthrift—so why not become a scholar? T.K.G. decided he would seek a PhD. at some renowned university and become the most accomplished scholar in “ISKCON.” He could thus establish himself amongst the sophisticated, highly-educated class. At the same time, even amongst them, he would be in a category by himself: He would represent the theistic wing of Vedic religion (the minority report in academia) as a professor in the sannyäsa order. Talk about a big-time distinction! So, after his close call in Mäyäpur with defenestration, he set out on a new course.

Eureka! A practicing Vaiñëava having had personal association with a renowned spiritual leader (now deceased) representing an established, personalist line of Vedic teachings—it would be unique, paving the way to eventually becoming The Successor.

So, the Machiavellian Manipulator enrolled at Oxford (the best of the best!), took and passed classes, spent copious amounts of donations from his disciples and well-wishers, lived the good life of a gentleman-scholar both on and off campus, and began stacking his credentials and developing his portfolio. It was all meant to culminate in a dissertation—containing splendid rhetoric and outstanding speculation—which would establish the new, liberal way of understanding just what Kåñëa consciousness must become in the post-modern world. The well-learned polity, the sophisticated gentry, the pseudo-brähmins of Western culture, would all look favorably on this man with his new view.

Trouble is, fate had other plans.

Oh, drat! Some damn fools were listening to long-forgotten tapes! Near the end of 1997, a couple of rittviks (one domiciled in Texas, which was still T.K.G.'s zone), both of whom were very inimical to him, teamed up. One of them had detected background whispers on October, 1977 recordings indicating that Prabhupäda had been intentionally poisoned—and also a possible conspiracy in that connection. These devotees decided to act, and they scored quite a coup: They were able to get a Houston radio station, apparently one popular with the local Hindus, to play these recordings, and the wealthy American Hindu community was negatively impacted. That gradually began to dry up the Houston revenue stream, but it would get worse for T.K.G. . . . as in much worse!

The intrigue and treachery that transpired from November, 1997 up until mid-March, 2002 was intense. T.K.G. tried to preempt the gathering storm in every way possible, and one of his attempts--related to manipulating the institution's sanctioned funding for research into the charge--was instead diverted to one of his men. It wound up subsidizing a book full of deception and bad logic, which interpreted the events of late 1977 in Våndävan in T.K.G.'s favor--in effect, glorifying him. That treatise worked to temporarily invalidate the growing, circumstantial evidence that T.K.G. poisoned Prabhupäda (or was the prominent poisoner). Yet, that book alone could not stop the rolling thunder.

In various ways, T.K.G. tried to intimidate godbrothers who took seriously this newly-revealed evidence. However, some of those unfriendlies coalesced to create a video exposing the Murder of the Century. The project failed. Nevertheless, a major book came out of it. It was well-researched and entitled “Someone Has Poisoned Me.” It was circulated in 1999 and made the case against T.K.G., strongly. The ebb and flow of “the poison issue” vacillated wildly, but overall, the pendulum steadily swung to the side not to his liking.

T.K.G. relished hob-nobbing with post-modern educational elites and intellectual superstars, especially those who specialized in Southeast Asian Studies. He mingled with and got to know them (and to be recognized by them) at different conventions. His career in academia was taking off according to plan. However, Maya was now dogging him big-time way via the poison controversy, viz., his reputation in “ISKCON” and on its fringes was once again sliding into the abyss. He had already decided that he would juggle but another ball with his commitment to Oxford University, but now a new slime ball (of his own making) was tossed into that loop, throwing his whole act off-balance.

Sidereally speaking, fate is in the portfolio of Saturn, the planetary representative of the Supreme Personality of Servitor Godhead, His Lordship Çiva. Saturn was no friend to T.K.G. Situated in one of his worse signs, the sign of Cancer, Saturn was made even more malefic for him since “Hot Tamale” was a Scorpio lagna. Although Saturn was conjunct in the ninth house (the house governing long journeys) with Venus--and that made Saturn a bit less malefic than he otherwise would be--the son of the Sun actually hurt Venus more than Venus helped him. Saturn was the biggest malefic for T.K.G. and, along with transcendental interferences from a higher plane, Saturn served to create his failures.

Curses tend to work through Ketu or Saturn or both; in T.K.G.'s case, they worked through Saturn. As new evidence, intelligence, and insight kept pouring in that he was probably implicated in Prabhupäda being intentionally and periodically poisoned by a heavy metal, there can be little doubt that curses were being hurled his way during the final years of the Nineties, as well as after the turn of the century.

Huge sums of money had previously been spent for top-shelf, allopathic medical treatment in order to keep T.K.G.'s kidney cancer at bay, but he was weakened by that disease. He was now in his mid-fifties and, although not an old man, he was not a young one, either. Curses find your weak points. Especially if you are guilty of what provoked them, they often land and work through material causes that cannot be traced to them. One such way they work is that they can impel their victim to make a very bad (and risky) decision.

T.K.G.'s decision to leave for Calcutta in the middle of the night (in mid-March, 2002) was indicative of that kind of cause. He was looking forward to completing his dissertation at Oxford and graduating in pomp and circumstance, i.e., perhaps he was rushing to make a plane back to England. Then again, T.K.G. also had malefic Moon in the third house, the house of brothers (including godbrothers, by the way) and short journeys. Mäyäpur to Calcutta would be in the category of a short journey. Perhaps he had some urgent business in the former Queen City of India the next day and was rushing to take advantage of it.

Of course, the Paramätmä knew his motive for such a risky, late night departure. Whether his goal that night--on the Ides of March, 2002--was England or Calcutta is difficult to ascertain, especially now. Either way, he never got there.

Death of a Veils Man

“I have noted especially your description of the unfortunate accident which took place and which took away our friends Jananiväsa däs Brahmacäré and Will prabhu. . . It will be a good idea in the future if our devotees take lesson from this unfortunate incident and take precaution not to drive late at night for any reason . . .”
Letter to Patita Uddharaë, 11-15-71

“You go to astrologer, 'What is in my fate? Whether I am getting such and such things or not?' You inquire or not inquire, if you are destined to achieve that thing, it will come automatically. Everyone is bound up by the reaction of his past work.”
Platform Lecture on Çrémad-Bhägavatam 1.5.4, 1-12-68

“A man has got to know his limitations.
Lt. Callaghan, “Sudden Impact”

There was no really pressing reason—certainly not one worth risking one's life for (and the life of some followers and disciples for)--that compelled T.K.G. to depart Mäyäpura for Calcutta at such an ungodly hour in mid-March, 2002, but he did so anyway. That road has always been particularly dangerous, especially in the dark. T.K.G. stretched the rubber band in so many ways throughout his career in ISKCON (and “ISKCON”), but the last time he stretched it, it snapped, and his life was snuffed out in a violent instant.

In the wee hours of March 15th, past midnight but well before sunrise, his taxi driver fell asleep at the wheel and crashed at full speed into a mango tree. Only one occupant of the vehicle survived, but T.K.G. died instantly, his head smashing into the windshield. He may have been sleeping at the time of the accident. His being killed by a blow to the head was predicted by an advanced occultist in Varanasi in the late Seventies, based on the size, color, and placement of that ominous birthmark near his right temple.

The legacy of T.K.G. survives him; not in all ways, but in many. Circumstantial evidence points to him as having assassinated his own spiritual master by periodically poisoning him with deadly doses of cadmium over many months. If T.K.G. indeed engaged in that heinous act, then that is the worst legacy he leaves behind.

However, even if the poisoning was what it seems to be—and T.K.G. the main culprit—he did far more damage than that over his span of influence in Prabhupäda's movement (and what became of it after His Divine Grace left us).

He tried to jettison the Juhu property back to Nair, in effect negating a signed contract of sale and against Prabhupäda's express wishes. He undermined ISKCON temples throughout America that were run by householders—and generally run quite well—by draining their manpower, raiding them of their celibate students, and burning out their municipal collection areas. In 1975, through his chief lieutenant and under his orders, the RDTSKP even usurped and took complete control of one of those centers (the St. Louis yatra), and your author was personally present to witness the coup. He alienated Bhakta George Harrison, who soured on ISKCON even while Prabhupäda was still physically manifest.

Due to T.K.G.'s slash-and-burn campaign in the mid-Seventies, he created chaos in and amongst ISKCON centers in America, resulting in him being banished to China. He mismanaged a huge amount of money on a project in Oklahoma just beyond the Texas border, a varëäçrama model that never got off the ground and came to nothing. He was sued by one of his female disciples for the molestation of her children at his gurukula. She won the lawsuit, and he lost.

Of course, we cannot (and dare not) forget or minimize the damage that T.K.G. wrought on the movement as the chief creator, manipulator, and implementer of the pretender mahäbhägavat scheme, a conspiracy amongst eleven men, with full cooperation with the governing body, which briefly turned them into successors to Çréla Prabhupäda and inheritors of his expansive properties. That boondoggle soon led to disunity, rebellion, and the manifestation of factions, i.e., the fracturing of the Hare Kåñëa movement.

T.K.G. tried to pull the wool over everybody's eyes regarding his many machinations, but ultimately, he has been exposed for just what he was—after having damaged Prabhupäda's movement beyond repair in the process. His Divine Grace frustrated him at every turn, except for the one that led to Prabhupäda's premature departure. T.K.G. made one unsuccessful attempt after another to surge toward the top and control “ISKCON,”, but Prabhupäda, fate, and his own governing body frustrated him continuously.

He died a horrible, violent death, one not befitting an advanced Vaiñëava, which he most certainly wasn't. Nevertheless, he was interred as a saint by “ISKCON,” although it was difficult to transport his mangled body (almost torn in half) back to Mäyäpur. His sidereal chart, with two benefics in the eighth, would be interpreted to mean that he would experience an easy death. It sure as hell wasn't! As such, he may have been killed prematurely by a decision made from above and beyond the plane from which the secondary causalities function. His dark and tainted legacy was too important to “ISKCON” for its leading secretaries and so-called gurus not to honor him with a ceremonial burial, one which is supposed to be restricted only for great, saintly persons.

A Past Master of the Self-Image

“ . . . Garga Muni (was) one of the great authorities in astrological science. . . Garga Muni was proficient in this knowledge. By this knowledge one can understand what his previous activities were that are causing him to enjoy or suffer in this life.”
Kåñëa Book, Chapter 8, “Vision of the Universal Form”

“Although this body is temporary, as long as we have to live in this body we must suffer. Whether one has a short life or a long life, one must suffer the threefold miseries of material life. Therefore any gentleman, dhéra, must be interested in jyotiña, astrology.”
Çrémad-Bhägavatam, 10.8.5, purport

I know nobody knows
Where it comes and where it goes.
Aerosmith, “Dream On”

Analyzing T.K.G.'s sidereal chart entails understanding just how he operated while under the conditioning of his secondary causalities, the nine planetary influences, in specific signs and houses, of Vedic astrology. Six of his seven major planets were above the horizon, i.e., he was an extrovert. The lord of lagna (the ascendant) was prominent in the tenth, i.e., he wanted fame got quite a bit of it. Some would say that it was as much infamy as it was fame, but, whether or not that is accurate, he was undeniably one of the most well-known devotees in the Hare Kåñëa movement.

The lagna was the sign of Scorpio. T.K.G. was a vindictive personality. He rarely made good first impressions, because malefic Ketu was in lagna. Still, that upagraha did not work against his style or designs. In other words, Ketu was only technically a malefic for him, and T.K.G. liked the Dragon's Tail's influence. Ketu functions very well in Scorpio, also.

In point of fact, T.K.G. brought a significant amount of good karma into his lifetime. Tom Herzig was born in New York to a Jewish family, and his chart indicates a strong power in comprehending (and utilizing) occult principles. Perhaps he studied the Kabbalah, but many of us know (from direct experience) that he applied crypto-Talmudic power principles throughout his life in the movement. He did so very effectively, although it was anything but pretty. His parents divorced when he was a toddler, and his father left the family at that time. It can thus be argued that T.K.G.'s only father figure was Çréla Prabhupäda.

That Prabhupäda favored him to a significant extent, there is no question. T.K.G.'s sidereal chart indicates that favor, because we find Jupiter (the guru) in the eleventh there, the house of easy gains. Indeed, T.K.G. inherited control of a huge slice of his guru's assets after Prabhupäda left the scene, along with amenities and enjoyments that accompany control of so many properties. His Divine Grace bestowed upon him other perquisites, much more than the overwhelming majority of Prabhupäda's initiates could ever have dreamed of.

T.K.G. had more benefics than malefics in his chart. Jupiter, Mars, Sun, Mercury, and Venus were benefics, and Ketu worked like one for him, i.e., sixty-seven percent of his planets were benefic. However, this sidereal fact should not be misunderstood: T.K.G. was not at all dominated by sattvic influences. Jupiter, despite his situation in Virgo (a sign he does not like) promoted the mode of goodness, and, to a lesser extent, the Moon did also, since the lunar orb was in the deva-gaëa nakñatra of Çravaëa. All of the other planets were either passionate or ignorant or mixed in those lower modes.

Obviously, we are not going to attempt an extensive analysis of his particular janma-kuëòalé. Instead, your author and astrologer will target the most outstanding and noticeable features and powers that the chart represented. T.K.G. had no planets in exaltation, no planets in debilitation, and no planets combusted by too close association with the Sun. All the planetary influences were thus at play, but none of them were outstanding or weak. Mercury was in the same sign as the Sun in the eighth, but the planetary karaka of intelligence was beyond his combustion range with the solar orb there. Actually, that conjunction was conducive to the highly favorable Budha-äditya Yoga.

In practical terms, T.K.G. could manipulate people through developed occult powers, particularly via his hidden understanding how to dovetail fear in them (including, fear of death, as the eighth is the house of death) by doing so. He also was a master at securing other people's money to himself and using it for his own purposes. This man was no slouch when it came to the occult. He could have rather easily, had he not contacted Kåñëa consciousness, become an accomplished witch, wizard . . . or even a warlock.

Some opine that he did.

The fire planet Mars in the fire sign of Leo made T.K.G. an angry man, one who insisted on getting his way. Yet, this astral proclivity was not always demonstrated or recognizable, because T.K.G. was accomplished at projecting his persona of choice, rather than showing where his liìga-çaréra was really situated. He developed a kind of quasi-mystic power to impose his will via veiled anger through the lord of lagna and the agency of an upagraha that acts just like the god of war, namely Ketu. For him, the Dragon's Tail would bewilder people when they contacted T.K.G., who was always keen to overlord and manipulate anyone he dealt with in order to satisfy his whims and/or promote his plans.

Because he was an accomplished changeling, it was difficult to pin him down. The juxtapositions of the Sun, Mercury, and Ketu empowered him to create one persona after another and manifest any of them more or less at will. He could be a love-bombing godfather at one moment, and, at the next instant, a wheeler-dealer. He had many such faces, but he knew it well that he could not allow reciprocation with anyone to go beyond the external and into his astral, because he had a big problem there.

Despite the sidereal fact that the Moon gave him some (limited) sattvic tendencies, the lunar orb was not that man's friend. First of all, the Moon was waning during the time of a fixed lagna, which means Candra was certainly a malefic. Secondly, and even worse, Moon formed what is, arguably, the worst core yoga that there is: Kemadruma Yoga. No major planets were in the third house with the Moon, and no major planets were on either side of him, i.e., in either the second or fourth houses. From your author's experience and sidereal research, here is a concise description of Kemadruma Yoga:

“The native born with Kemadruma Yoga becomes inimically disposed, given to base ways, and wickedly inclined. He falls from the path of real religion. He is sometimes deprived of friends and reputation, and he will periodically suffer extreme difficulties. Kemadruma Yoga is amongst the worse of yogas that can ruin a horoscope, making it difficult for the native to actualize and maintain anything of benefit during his life.

The Moon is a fickle and unsteady planet which rules both the subconscious mind, as well as the mental body itself. It is essential in a sidereal chart that a major planet, besides the Sun, Rähu or Ketu, is in the second or twelfth from the Moon in order to lend some firmness, stability, and direction to the astral. These qualities are necessary in order for the native to succeed in his vision of accomplishment. Without that planetary assistance, the mind remains without an anchor, and the man of such an uncontrolled mind becomes a source of trouble.”

T.K.G. had a powerful Sun, and Mercury was situated in his own sign and quite powerful, as well. Another way of saying the same thing is that T.K.G. had a developed false ego and well-developed intelligence, but these were, most unfortunately, combined with an uncontrolled mind. He had to disguise the lunar weakness in order to accomplish his objectives. His chief ploy in doing so was to project a given persona and cover over anyone and everyone who dealt with him by it. Just as importantly, he needed to switch his self-image whenever he saw it was time to do so . . . and he was damn good at it!

Malefic Rähu in the seventh strongly indicated that T.K.G. could never have a successful relationship, particularly in marriage with the opposite sex. Nor could he partner with, for any significant span of time, anyone else in anything. That was proven when he turned on Hansadutta after teaming up with him in 1980 during the Topanga House revelations. Just a few years later, T.K.G., rather than coming to his aid, stole the Philippine zone from Hansadutta when the latter got into further trouble. T.K.G. was an exploitative my-way-or-the-highway fellow, and that fact was demonstrated time after time. As Hansadutta so aptly put it in one of his rock songs: “Real nice guy, total fry.”

On the Ides of March, 2002, T.K.G. was victimized for the last time by his uncontrolled mind, although the Moon played but a secondary role in that event. Moon and Saturn were in opposition in T.K.G.'s sidereal chart, in the third and ninth, respectively. Those two malefics aspected each other, a most unfavorable juxtaposition. The ninth is also the house of luck. T.K.G. cast snake eyes or boxcars or drew the Old Maid on many occasions during the three-plus decades of his cult life; some of those setbacks have already been noted.

Then came the ultimate setback. Venus, a maraka in his sidereal chart, along with and conjunct Saturn in the ninth, were deputed to terminate the T.K.G. odyssey that fateful night in a most dreadful and violent way. T.K.G. was only fifty-five years old when his head and ambitions in this world were cracked and smashed. Despite various speculations, no conditioned soul knows where T.K.G. has gone, but we do know that his jaded influence still lingers in and around the fractured remnants of what was once a great movement.

OM TAT SAT

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