I was an admirer of Martha Gellhorn who would rise to the challenge of war reporting with the skills of a writer intent to engage the mind beyond critical facts with an impassioned heart, yet avoiding her first husband Hemingway’s pitfall of embellishment. As a supertrauma victim of Kzetnick piled on atrociously by Aaron Dixon, I barely avoid being tagged an illicit mannequin in the window, shimmering in the hoarfrost of evil genius and jinxes from the badboy Alladins in London’s LSD rock museum. So, I’ve learned that patience can divorce gathering of reason when addressed to an attack. This divorce from reading habits caused by byways of evidence that while important may not be strictly necessary yields advantage to soundbite criers not aiming for a patient, informed, knowledgable audience, a goal costly in the hope of finding good judgement and impartiality, but unhappily for reason, not for the criers of gossip and shrouded ideas, draped in preferential treatment. Such stunning aversion to passionate reporting in favor of slogans that lie are more likely to curry political favor. Perversely such tunings to gossip and ideology while abridgement of detail are also the cause of the endless filibuster known as the Taliban where all evidence is inadmissible and all reporting played out against the circuit breakers of a comprehensive false witness campaign, heaped in endorsement for atrocity. Indeed, the an English have come right out and sneered, the more I write the less will be heard. Convenient. Think of all that typing I could be saving about details I feel too passionate about to consign to the cabinets of unneeded decoration.
So it is that I begin my piece with Dina Michels, in a city of Pennsylvania I used to call “State Collage” despite that having been ages ago, thirty three years, in a text on the here and now. Even then I cannot help interrupting myself to complain that the foreign accomplices angle the resentment of their own victims, having forbidden Gays to regard me as heroic, to incite them on the idea of an East-West Prince. Midori is now past the childbearing age and the love is gone, and this was far, far more ruthlessly important to David Geffen, Adam Crary and Oliver Stone, than timely public warning which might have saved us. Dina’s classmate at Harvard (I met her at the Governor’s School when she demanded my view of an argument she and Eric Horn were staging in their fiction class) chimed of Berman, present on the day Hinckley shot Brady, “ever the non-conformist.” I met Dina at the Governor’s School where Pittsburgh and Harvard’s top social anthropologists, Kate McPherron and Tom Gordon did not get in, Tom saying he would have if he had applied and McPherron crowing that I didn’t deserve it, she did. You might want to recall from past writings that Caliban Books who started the ruckus about Leslie Katz (the symbol of decency and virtue that the foaming lizard Jimmee Crearie lusted for) lived on Celeron Street at the time of the Carrot Tape which went straight to Aaron Dixon through the hands of Mike Seate and WQED, because when Dina took me in the haze I was in after being tortured to Baskin Robbins, they say I’m the only person in their history who ever ordered the celery ice cream. Dina also bitched at me for wanting to learn to talk to dolphins insisting that it was because I was estranged. My point being that Dina Michels told me that when people are in crisis they turn to religion.
Unfortunately in mass murder and in victimization of that heinous nature religion plays a terribly important role ~ leading Hitler’s forces to quip that the ramp to the showers in Dachau were the road to heaven. Religious tyranny therefore was predicated and organized in advance as indispensible to the reichers of American military religion, like the cross-burner Rick Santorum who will not burn a Christian Flag.
The unwittingness of John Lennon in being written into the sad and scary situation which engulfs us under Obama hides some very human offices despite his fantastic and lofty idealism. The Armed Forces instigated the Tune In, Turn On, Drop Out movement to trick young and confused men into forfeiting their college deferral status to push them up against The Draft Board. You find in the politics of an asshole like Adam Crary of Woodstock sullen incomprehension about the role of the Armed Forces (West Point is nearby Woodstock) in the mobilizing of a temper tantrum religious overthrow attempt by school smashing Pink Floyd and their 911 warm jets, the pussyball game and a major refusal to admit that I have been tortured because this classic of criminal denial by Washington, D.C. protects Adam from being identified as a ghoul of HitlerReagan in Obama’s hitjob. The British anti-hero connivers covered important bases by using and manipulating Lennon’s unwittingness while parading his ego as infallible.
The alliance of Hitler and Obama is an agenda in human race liquidation as ego politics, a White Elephant Sale of claims to the microphone that depict the human soul. We know of Bush’s involvement in the crime by the following pattern: DD is the Library of Congress classification for the Nazi Germany. De De, Neva Mancine’s sister is named in letters corrolating her birthday to the shooting of Martin Luther King as a motive, NEVA is the name of Japan’s giant porn company, and Bush lives in Kennebunkport where if you add DDD you get Kennedy debunk deport. The sum total probity of all coincidences in this case is zero. At Pitt, get that again, like Pit, where the sinister crime was founded, I became alarmed that my ear doctor, abusive Sidney Busis, had a tattoo from Auschwitz, because I was gassed by the Pitmans in a place called Kings Estate. You should hear Aaron Dixon, despite being advised of the insane cruelty in the mind of Kzetnik, crowing about the white boy who was an overdosed undesirable. Aided by Marianne Sarkis, Dixon denied to the eternal horror of Martin Luther King screaming in his grave, what really happened to little Jimmy.
When Congress appointed what they claimed to be independent council they used Sprague who blamed the Mafia. Oswald was not in the Mafia. Sprague is. He is the Palace Mafia. Sprague is a symbol of pest control. King was killed among sanitation workers. To cover up Pener Gabriel’s cold-blooded lies about Mt. Desert Island, so he could crudely claim that support for Obama was not helping in Hitler’s revenge, to conquer Midori under his foreign Olympic Flag, the ugliest story ever told from whom all of human history has NO THANKS to say to Ringo Starr forever, was rape as ransom of innocent people who were defending the dignity of King from his own family in the most scurrilous and hostile death row hate crime of invented military race rage ever. Ultrahigh and HIV injection death row, demonstrated in its seriousness by the rape of deaf Jeannie, stomach and heart poison, 911, a mystery they refuse to answer with the arrest of Sean Strub, Mark David Chapman’s HIV positive partner from the Jewish Holocaust Community. They instead parade Obama as a missionary of Shinto redemption in Pussyball war by demanding surrender, with the usual catcalls, to their symphony of collaborators. This violence to the soul, child rape as platform and policy, they dared to call equity. It was done on behalf of those who released AIDS in a deviant, racialist temper tantrum staged by the truly guilty creating pretexts. It is all found out by Penis Gabriel’s nazi lording over Section 8 to cover up the smut films he made, even the rape of deaf Jeannie, claiming that I, in Section 8, am a sanitation risk that should be bug sprayed by Spray Reagan and Sprague. King was killed among sanitation workers as a symbol of the same bug extermination and sanitation as the house on Bigelow or Baum Boulevard (I get them confused) chosen by Mark Nordenberg’s star attorney Albert because of its Sanitation and Extermination road sign outside.
Bush pulled a fast one. When my family tried to pull our lives together after horrible victimization he lay in wait with a vicious character assassination aimed at a terrible head wound he inflicted with nerve agents. When I denounced Angela Davis as a child it turns out I was right about her. The essence of this case is fear of her terroristic pro-Reagan agenda and Mickey Obama’s ruthless longknives violence. This is their AFL-CIO Secret Treaty with HitlerReagan engineered by Al Gore and Kirshner for the day they shot Brady. So long as BLACK ASSHOLE has terror domination the secret is safe.
It was at Ralph Tive’s house that I once only and exclusively saw the newspaper GRIT which was advertised only and exclusively in comic books. Accordingly the fact that this ad is accompanied by an ATKINS ad and Ralph’s name appears in my father’s last book when he died in the house of Lynn Atkins I assure is evidence for real that Tive killed daddy.
The lead Liar’s Club component of Paul McCartney’s franchise episodings of a pro-Reagan nature is something to question by asking: Where did all these illusions come from about what all went on? How were they manufactured by Lewis Lapham and Arnold Schwarzenegger in their run on the bank of little Jimmy’s isolation and phobias? Patricia Fripp has paraded her Goebellian world as a marvel Upton Sinclair would be proud of. One of her Woody Allen hallucinotronic voyayas presents Reagan saying of Midori Goto, “Okay take her prisoner” when I said I believed Reagan. How did this situation then service the illusion of a salvage agenda which gets real deep and is presented almost believably as a noble obligation to society? This isn’t the redemption of a Da Vinci. We are talking about Hitler’s grand masterpiece of evil. This biased itinerary in the proceeding is a condemnation of Her Majesty of England’s sour judgement. This is Reconstruction of Slavery to advance the Gestapo. This fact had a lot of evidence behind it. Gail Burstyn wrote, “I disowned you but now I’m going to write you back into my will.” The an English were given enough clues that she was behind my terrible injuries, but they chose to ignor that evidence in her favor. Now they are staging a Rashomon by Oliver Stone where a thousand voices tell their side.
Into this they have chosen to sow the saga of Linda Buyheraring, Tom Wolfe’s adage from his book The Electric Koolaid Acid Test, “It is her movie. It really is.” Underwriting these crier claims of high principle is sympathy for cold-blooded malice. I would be more careful than Patricia Fripp before I crow that I am a Feminazi. Nazi cannot be rehabilitated so easily. The struggle for control of the narrative is premised on the assassin claim that the script was honestly and fairly constructed, a stage endorsement of Hitler’s sincerity, about little Jimmy. Reporting vivisection has been answered with more vivisection. For getting this close to the truth about Tive, Reagan has a caustic murder revenge going directed at me. Who are the PIGS when the Black Panters work in sympatico with the FBI? Sadly I even one of the few poets around who really believed in initiatives like Fair Play for Crooklyn. Interestingly this sliminess from Seattle posing a huge problem for history comes with Oprah singing for privitization of information about atrocity in the name of ethnic pussyball warfare.
Robert Fripp entered into a neurobehavioral partnership with Ian Wattenmaker over the hideous torture and piteous poisoning of little Jimmy. Doing what they did to a neuroplasm isn’t just dirty, it’s a super op. Violating me in the nervous system while Dixon forces himself into position as a key player in a holdout for profits in a hostage stick up scam. Throughout this long, torrid ordeal against all plausible good judgement, evidence inadmissible, we are told by objectivist profiteers that the script represents a criminal history about me. No, it doesn’t. It’s a Louie con.
The dialectics are impregnably practical on the ends of claiming torture for profit is kosher when in the name of AIDS victims. Molesting me with cries that I am on the brink of an autoerotic flake out due to neurocompulsive Freudian slips of sign language, they challenge me to defy them by stating I am not at risk of AIDS in order to commanche a new stigmata. If you empathize with AIDS victims, then you too must die. AIDS nazism was premeditated.
Patricia Fripp and my father’s murderer Bill Clinton crypto everything. I get five dollar bills folded weirdly to ascribe as sainthood Midori Goto’s sacrificial war game of countering my abortions with sins of her own, Oliver Stone’s Equal Rights Amendment on the road to Valhalla for Amazons loyal to ancient Germany and their newfound Jewish pals. Cornell West and Will Zell Broome are slick partners in the sanction of the victim and duty of innocent prey. As ugly of a thing as it is to suggest, I think the question of Black complicity in the murder of Martin Luther King is supported by the evidence. He was not universally approved of and nobody follows him now.
The nefarious idea of misledgered eternal jeopardy built on a fossilized, libelous scroll about the past is criminally insane, a desperate attempt by Rev. Jesse Jackson to create a new gradeschool primer hiding his Nazism for Children under the rubrics of rage.