“I trust your intelligence, not your judgment.” ~ Penny Crary

     The ability to say with agility what cannot be said by others is a skill and noticed, meaning coveted by those who want to be sure the right things are said about them.   The murder of Saoirse Kennedy was a lesson in Chinatown materialism. I’ve seen the ivory tusk carvings for sale in the smallest hovel shops, but living here over a decade my views were always tempered by the fine talk of NWAsianWeekly, such that while I had my suspicions, trafficking appears rampant, I have been subject to malpractice, the idea that they would choose a victim of value just for talismanic reasons over the death of Donnie Chin, while sick in the manner of UW sociology, has its root in a Seattle that I had hoped would be satisfied in the way they have used me for a voodoo doll.   There was a ripper attack on an innocent woman by their Squad, and a namesake of my niece was purposefully killed at their command in Iowa. Until they killed Saoirse I didn’t realize that Chinatown is trying to start a Civil War and I think it would be worth noting that the decisive person responsible is Yoko Ono, whose ego demands a large presence in Seattle’s Chinatown, and always has been, Ichiro was here.

       A lot of stories don’t get read.   This is nothing new. UW has the upper hand because of how they developed this situation.  That should be clear from their choice of targets. The Kennedys, once formidable, powerful, persuasive, influential, are now discardable fluff.   It was UW’s way of saying their metanarrative has control. Even a testimonial like this one will only make it stronger.

       Jay Inslee says that he has been on the chase of the climate crisis 25 years, about as long ago as when The State of Washington, working through Green Party renegades, attacked me sexually at Community College of Allegheny County with Rosine Monteleone, who was taken from me as a drama department punishment put together by Ming Na Wen, a Pittsburgher favored by UW and Seattle Chinatown, who ran a conjob covering for how I was deafened as a child.  They targeted a terrifying nerve injury that now throttles in my facial nerve, poison they had implanted. Inslee’s favorite took my fiance, while State of Washington lured me here with false assurances of Deaf Advocacy, chemically castrated me while their agent brutally raped the girl who crossed the Union vivisection operation lines by teaching me sign language. NWAsianWeekly asked me to come back and I managed to get into Phi Theta Kappa and Honors Pathway at Tacoma Community College.   

         Rosa worked with the Green Party and Pentagon-Disney on a project that speaks very loudly about what really is at work in the way that the Inslee Administration is selling AIDS as population control for a sustainable environmental management program.  The trafficking dimension goes way back to how I was held hostage and tortured by the Jack Ruby faction of Pittsburgh as a child. This is the group that managed to promote me through the slanders of Miles Kirshner, a Jewish man surely doubled over in laughter about the death of Saorise.   To understand the significance of Yoko Ono’s Warhol image, two clock glasses, a clock over each eye, eye for an eye, in the murder of Saoirse, you need to realize that Trump and Midori Goto worked together to come collecting for how they used me sexually in hostage as a traumatized, deafened prisoner, loudly proclaiming Kirshner’s smears the smut of an honest man.

          The mentality is very serious because for twenty five years of isolation they have had me semi-involuntarily playing out the loss of my wonderful fiance to their capture as an argument over my character from which I could be vindicated if only she hadn’t left, hadn’t poached me, had recognized my character was good, and true, a Kennedy kid, but that I was in seizures from their terrible nerve agent poison.   It plays ridiculously well through my psyche because of how beautiful she was.

        Hollywood, CMU drama, UW psychology, love this action.   In Pittsburgh as a child, Diane Draxinger once had someone tell me that she had been hit by a car and died.  Drac Singer is a nice name for her. I cried and cried. I loudly bawled and told everyone how sad I was. She finally told them to tell me it was a joke.

       Seattle society had the same sort of joke played on them by Yoko Ono but it will work, I mean, you can’t tell the fascist queers who went mayhem for those who released the AIDS that they were toyyed with and fooled by Peter J. Sinfield in a loutish program of British Intelligence anymore than you can expect a Kennedy cavalry.

         Betty Davis starred in a film by a Czech writer names Karel Benes who, like those who tortured me, was gaga for prisoner poetry.   In it she plays a sort of double life. This theme of doubles is a significant recurring theme in Hollywood and the focus of my research as a disabled senior.   It’s important to understand that Pentagon Disney is ruling by manipulating what we deeply, deeply believe.  

       Another point that I am having trouble exploring is the fact that conscientious objector Tom Rodd in West Virginia has outreach to the Inslee government precisely because not only was his brother William present when I was slaughteringly attacked by men name Ronnie and Kasper as a child, but because Rodd is the name of an expert in Co2, someone who could have helped the Reagan machine scheme a global forcing house.

       What Pittsburgh and their schtick have always hoped to prove through what they have done to me is that the weak must die.  They look at the loyalty of his spouse to Oswald Mosley and the way that Chow Yun Fat gloated in taking a Chinese woman from his buddhist fiance as underscoring the way UW offers a Trump prize for surrender and the snickering of piecemeal mutilation for Czech like poetry if you resist.  They like to float quiksilver women of the sort Doris Day sang about through your arms to your best friend for overly impressive resistance, and of course, the Union look at a murder like Saoirse as, well, the billionaires getting it from Quiksilver’s real controllers at the Jack Ruby V.A.