I'm afraid mumbo jumbo won't make the grassy knoll go away. No amount will. People hear about how half the witnesses heard shots from the knoll, see the pictures of people running up there. You can't just ignore that half.
There is a lot to unpack here. It leaves me with some questions.
1) Can you cite accurately that half the witnesses heard the shot coming from the knoll? An exact number?
2) What makes their testimony inherently more accurate or reliable than those placing the shots elsewhere, from a variable number of directions and locations?
3) I would love to know how you deduce intent from the photographs. How you look at people rushing towards the grassy knoll, and tell
from the photographs that people are
towardsa source of gunfire, and not
away from a target?
My personal feeling, on looking at films and photographs of the event, is not that people are rushing to find a shooter. I don't think my opinion of photographs is worth a damn (which is entirely the point), but if I were asked, I would suggest that it looked to me, as though people were fleeing the shooting, to a fence onto a rail yard. Rather sensibly, if you got over the fence, you would be out of line of sight, and would be able to seek cover behind a wagon.
Unless you have identified each person in the photographs, and have their testimony of why they were moving that way, and if they were intending to investigate the sight of a shooter, it is unwise to suggest a reason can be discerned.
Of course some people thought they saw or heard something suspicious, but over the years these claims have been contradictory or unsupported by other evidence. Lots emerge only after the story of the knoll took traction, with muddy boot prints on a bumper that "might have been somebody taking aim" (or as likely, somebody getting comfy to watch the president) evolving to complex stories of workmen dismantling rifles and making a get away (later tracked down and found to be innocent), to the suspiciously detailed and extravagant (yet surprisingly often failing to key in with each other.
I like Martin Fido's description of one of the mob-based memoirs, when he wonders how so few people noticed something like the Apalachian Mob Convention sneaking into positions around the Plaza (including the TSBD), firing away like Bilio, then scarpering on their wing tipped toes. IIRC the memoir gleefully included everybody the "Buffs" had identified, but one name vanished between the advanced review copies and first printing to hit the stands, when it was realised the publishers would probably get sued by a "stand-by marksman" identified near the knoll, whose soul basis for suspicion was his moving around the country too often for armchair buffs to track down and interview.
The perfectly innocent Pastor, whose job took him all over the USA, had no idea, as it happened, that he was being accused of a connection to murder and the mob, for years before some aging gangsters wanted to make a quick buck.
Other stories, such as somebody thinking they could smell cordite as they drove past, may well be an honest recollection, but one better explained by the quirks of how we bolster our memories to make them stick, than the likelihood of gunpowder smells having an unusual potency and reach in this one case alone.