It’s interesting to be able to testify to how viciously insensitive political correctness is as a campus modality in the 21st century. Knowing everything the way they do comes with a price. The underlying idea to all of it is that girls don’t respect a victim. Of course, it’s not really that simple, since the evidence problem isn’t in their favor. The disrespect is founded on negation of the evidence and denial of victimization to protect their take on charm school. It comes wrapped in the delusion that I am seeking grace. There are larger issues than me, they never tired of yammering, while obsessing over the slander box they built to surround me.
The issue is that I refuse to leave the issue out as they do, but if I were to comply, then the issue would be human trafficking which is a megalithic gravy train. A lot can be ascertained by their own insistence on overlooking the evidence and being reductive to what they feel is more enlightening, although, to be honest, the era of digital disconnect is not all that keen on knowing about WW2 and the Kennedy assassination either, without which you really cannot credit intelligence about human trafficking. But supposedly, provisionally, they were to say, okay, well, since you leave the main topic out as we do, let’s get interested in the issue of WW2 and Kennedy’s death in the override topic of human trafficking. That sounds correct.
To understand the tragedy of human trafficking in large measure means not so much knowing about slavery, although that helps, as about Al Jolson and the whiteface minstrel show era of lampoons against black dignity. If something gets published, by the way, and you find it in a junkshop in a city or out in the country, the fact of its being published almost certainly means that it was part of a strategy from the past. We get reform in measured doses when it comes to recreational academics, entertainment and research groups. The problem with political correctness is that they can only interpret victimization in the bubble of what they take for legitimate reform and arguments about such material.
This observation gets particularly thorny when you come across something that is really very apt and respectable. A good example in L.R.Y. Storr’s book called: The Second Red Scare. A sense of what it offers comes right to the point at the onset when he forcefully detects the way that the persecution of intellectuals after WW2 led directly to their changing their tune, and the government abandoning humane reform. It makes you very sad. What they did and got away with however wouldn’t be possible if Storr weren’t covering for them. The dilemma then is very frightful. We have our betrayers to thank that all is not lost.
The counterculture told a narrative that was picked up in the 80’s and 90’s, a theme that built the Clinton Age, of punk feminism, a slightly militant advance on bra-burning. They were in your face, rude, destructive, and yet the progenitors of the political correctness machine. From this the Vampirella idea that working with Gail Burstyn’s machine and Neva’s Confederacy in New York, particularly Yoko Ono and Warhol, was a lampoon of the situation, not fulfillment and reality. The narrative was structured to describe me and ask questions about what I was doing intended to get away with what they had done. This narrative is now politically correct. Punk feminists had said ick about me. Then the killers in the machine hissed, but not ick enough. Lewd brutality they said was proving myself worthy.
Despite this you can’t find a cop, and they have killed a few, promoting it as friendly fire. This is both institutional and personal because it boils down to a government plan, very Seattle intensive in its thinking and hostility for evasion from the illicit Draft. At school the common wisdom is that I am an actor on a stage, and that is the idea that Ono built with Pittsburgh, showing off. They know, of course, the expert puppet masters, that I don’t want to be, that I am playacting for my life like Al Jolson, which is what makes the political correctness division so peculiar, that they would say wow, sarcastically, to a deaf man over a few mental notes concerning music. I think I said vicious, I guess peculiar and vicious works. They like to praise with false flattery that which they are seeking to destroy, like promoting JFK so they could take him down execution lane.
The murderers ghoulishly say in symbolic, archaeological brutality, put your money where your mouth us, which is there way of saying, would you do me a favor and clean up after their mess? They want the entire USA to be Al Jolson, playing nurse maid to the mindset of the people they abandoned and then set up as a structural charity from Hollywood, for fifteen minutes of honky tonk at the jump and holler at the podium of gimme. The narrative, the untruth about me, finalizes this scam, but looking at it for what it was is very discomforting.
Why did they use a nerve injury on my facial nerve while braying with sadistic punk feminists that sex island was therapy? There is something very clearly stated in that, too ugly to acknowledge, it was the reversal of premise method, putting in the liberal ear the notion of calling twisted napalm raids in Vietnam by baby killing, saying it is slander then to say that of My Lai, despite the butchered babies in the ditch. Why, baby killers, we’ll give you babykillers, and they put on the play of the script, “I am the Walrus,” a ledger about abortions as a consequence of 60’s sexual protest. The British have it going around that making lampoons of ourselves was therapy.
When you read about the swipes of Button McCormick and the way that Shawn Brooks threw me out of a church into the hands of his gang, and see the picture of the Japanese diplomat under the Nuclear Shelter sign of the Dallas Police Department in 1963, you understand that killing Kennedy over Hiroshima, the text of which is all over the Hollywood Axis system I uncovered in my detective investigation, isn’t the long and short of it. That horrible face blast, like the nerve damage in my face, was Donald Trump’s promotion of sexual macabre from the Neva Confederacy. This is what his arrogant friends like Yevtushenko meant by calling Ivan Ilych, “the face behind the face.”
Trump friends in South Africa for example working with the British created what they call a Moxyland to brag of getting Seattle knowitalls to render murder in the name of their own betrayers. That it worked depended all on denying what was really done to me. Deke Deloach once hummed that when King was gone they needed to promote some black leader closer to their interest. Many people thought, yeah Roy Wilkins would be better, but that’s not what they had in mind. They were after a Black Franco and they really found one with Obama, they pulled the whole thing off. Trump really struts his stuff on this one. He made the truth too incredible to entertain and moved the important victims on to the bottom line.
It was as simple as reminding people how awful Coretta felt about being embarrassed by her hubs in his dalliances on the road between 200 motels. It was as simple as making lewd comments about sexual protest by the traumatized, and overlooking serial beatings by the control tower, while focusing on lyrics going, “Don’t stop, Don’t….stop, Don’t stop,” in the background of the East/West Circuit Band, doing covers for the Roches in cosplay until ta ta Rip Van coma.
