The person in my history from whom I understand best the pity my home office and school feel very freely towards me is ironically the woman who did a great deal to trap me into being a public relations tool for my own survival towards my past school despite the terrible crime they let happen and justified there.   I have a copy of picture of Dr. Edna MacKenzie with Jimmy Carter somewhere. She struggled long and hard to keep our campus on track with the American Civil Rights Movement. She sought mandatory black studies for all students but never got that pushed through. We always have full classes for African American History though.   Towards the end of her life she became brittle, still doggedly idealistic, if a little bit prone to drink. What I mean to say is that part of the pity that comes towards me is the perception that I act in the shell of a delusion as if I is a young student, when my life is behind me. This silent ridicule happens largely because when I speak up about what I think we would have if the Reagans had not murdered Kennedy and King is a world safe for idealism and that makes movers and shakers act and feel as though I am campaigning for the job of the God Bless America Liberalism Award.   I keep hoping testifying about what really happened will become easier for me, despite the burden of a ripper hatter targeting and viciously abusing me.

      First, I remember something Alexander Solzhenitsyn said in his 1978 Harvard Commencement Address.  He said that while a society without the rule of law is terrible indeed, that a government by laws alone is not quite worthy of man either.   Public service under Kennedy was not a call to the beyond. It was faithful about the joy of diversity. Solzhenitsyn was not Gandhi, but he was making a similar point to the Mahatma, if you will, when he said that violence was so fundamentally beneath him that he couldn’t entertain the idea.  It wasn’t like, oh, I don’t know how to do that. He realized that the people who law has to restrain are those who glorify violence. The way I feel about the murderer’s claim that a racial barbecue of an innocent person is the good fight is that it is scummy beyond belief, and I will always hold that the people who brought this atrocity to school that way are scummy, and if they do it, that is where I stood on that issue of principle, that it is beneath contempt, in every particular.   Because of how criminally insane they are, no one will make a campaign out of AIDS Stops With You.

      I see Duke William as being like Marlon Brando in The Godfather.  He struts around bumbling as though senile, while his ripper hatters rub out dignity and reason and call it their services for the day, taking by force for the thrill of the kill what would have been offered freely.   It amazes and disgusts me the way I was put at risk, in the name of principle, of being a Victim Donald Trump, forced into a walled city in hatred to prevent the mandatory gesture of charity called for, packaged and planned in advance by the AIDS attackers.   They did this for kicks. They would throw their own lives away for a battlefield that set them free on a spree. We have for leaders in America sadistic pigs who would gladly use global warming to their own advantage and if that wasn’t true we wouldn’t be at this location in history and time.  Students should listen to one thing: the film Kiss of the Spider Woman found out The Green Party whose leader Gail Burstyn took me to it.  She was like another one of them, Dolly Meieren, always praying she could find a way to get her teachers fired, writing in letters of blood red:  U.S. OUT OF NORTH AMERICA. In that Kiss film a duded up German from the Wayne-Hitler dude ranch made a brother just about cry carrying on about invading Ethiopian to bring aid, food and the future to downtrodden.

     The murderers of course are jackals.  They belong in the dock of a war crimes trial, Wattenmaker, Fripp, Runco was a real pyromaniac wanting to set the world on fire to test the Catholic theory of spiritual redemption.   Thos. Gordon used to hum about Woten, obviously alluding to Wattenmaker, and was Harvard bound stock chocked with pithy utterances like, “we got your goat.” While I understand being the object of pity, and you should pity me, in answer to my advocacy for them the NAACP invaded my home, covered for torture by white maniacs, humiliated me sexually with an attack prostitute, and rendered it their verdict that Schugar Bear didn’t kill me, so there, getting in the house before we did, as tribute, a sort of black Gilgamesh adventure written by Karl.  Trump’s father may not have designed the swastika shaped Naval barracks you can look up in Coronado, California, but he did design a few Naval barracks, and architecture is important in the AIDS attack, Salk Labor were calling themselves ARK at WQED. You should pity me because I was the object of a vile Death Before Dishonor gimmick played out as what happens if we serially humiliate someone beyond all horror forever? Like a sexual release for foreign sadists. Will I ever give up? Will I let another Shannon Harps get slashered rather then shake my fist and say, hehn.   The King Family are to blame for a lot of this. They allowed the twisted and berserk Robert Fripp to take Leslie Katz Theory and turn not giving HIV to someone you rape into a slogan of Honorary Non-Violence. So Chin I’s rape is as good as Katz’ virginity. Neat.

       Both Ian Wattenmaker and Ian MacDonald favored the term:  rumble for their violent sports ideas, which Wotenmaker told me was like soccer played with a Walrus liver.   Another way of looking at it is free love contradicted by pussyball and the children shall lead. It’s their turn to jump and holler, unless the Elders can think of a barnburner to keep them interested.    John Wayne killed JFK to make us real men. My advice to students (who wouldn’t listen to me if a dozen College Presidents told them to) is to stay away from teachers with a history of using sex for a political weapon.