The White House sits in the American landscape like the Palace of the Wizard of Oz and the road there is a wonderful place where anything with a sense of proportion and balanced priorities even mentioned will put you to sleep.   A good example of the metronome used by the Svengali of hypnosis is mention of the Bayer Company. Take a nap and get back to this, because it’s important. As warped as it is to see it, Jack Holmes, in Esquire, a few days ago, printed the truth.   He said sarcastically that Trump is a Jim Jones out to command his entire population, the earth itself, to self-destruct, only sarcasm isn’t the proper tone. The concept constitutes information. Anyone who sees what his friend Warhol got the queers to do in the AIDS attack should by now be numb to the sizzling metanarrative of the old har-har yarn Reagan didn’t know devized by Penis Gabriel.   In the season that John Stockwell of the CIA showed up in Allentown on my birthday the day after the 1987 Wall Street Crash, which an agent from Penis Gabriel called the day before the crash, “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” a retired Army helicopter Sargent named Hagerman gave me a ride home during which he said, “It is widely believed in the Pentagon that the earth just isn’t going to make it, but who cares?  I’ve lived a good life.” This is what one powerful man can be like. Imagine a city full of people with nothing left to lose and you have the crow flies of Seattle, which is the Army Warhol planned. They not only don’t care, they say they don’t. Today I went out walking in Tacoma, a pretty, mid-Summer jaunt for several miles, in the eerie state of weird fatigue that I live in with diabetes induced by crime on high, even through the park and I saw not one, not one single bee.

        So at the risk of putting you back to sleep, I will tell a short vignette about Bayer.   It’s short for Bayerlitsch. It means Bavarian. It appears on the ancient manuscripts of the old United Fruit Company.   They made Zyklon B used to kill the civilized people of Europe less than a hundred years ago. Primo Levi publicly forgave them at Pitt errata https://www.joc.com/holocaust-linked-firm-apologizes-survivor_19951220.html once the letters of Gail Burstyn had been frozen into my dining room napkin cabinet, then committed suicide after receiving a helpless, pleading letter from me about torture commisserating with his terrifying prose.   I don’t know how you could not know this by now, but they have made a poison gas that is exterminating the world’s bees.

       Obviously, anyone can temper their speech, adjust to social expectations, return to school at a community college and be part of the answer and the search for constructive change pursuing survival and prosperity.   This isn’t about the obvious. Responsible, talented, committed, dignified, unimpeachable black professors are helping their less fortunate white brothers and sisters learn skills and gain information and learning to foster good character development all over the world.   It’s pointless to spell out when the urgent necessity of addressing the criminally insane is so brutal, insensate and forceful. The Warhol is announcing, by claiming African traditions, that serial mutilation and sacrificial murder are the use of the human form for a work of art, and that anyone who doesn’t think so misses the point, that their crime is worth millions.   The leaders in Seattle would sell another man’s soul as fast as they would sell out their country. To advertise their idea that it is a matter of principle they put a C for copyright in a Star of David, as a symbol of their human trafficking and extermination corporation after pushing free love on the target population.

         The Axis went right to work upon defeat.  They identified resentment formulas, grudge refrains, hostile glossias, to focus on resentment formulas that could be used to recruit miseducated people and bribe them, scare them, get them going.   This worked and has been incubating since the War Between the States. D.W. Griffith knew that social climbers in Hollywood would step on others to get ahead. They watched crowds cheer Joe Louis because he had beaten a white.   Marcus Garvey met with Edward Young Clark to secure cooperation in punishment of race mixers. The stage was set for a cross fire on white liberalism by way of the hollow cannon of a Louis Louis line in the sand set for the whitely walking and the  buzzing of the hive queen, Midori Goto, plying Victor Hugo’s comprachicos with a plastic mutilated face saying the wrong things for the right people.

        There’s no other explanation for the support given for Mt. Desert Island’s Will Zell Broome, an island where Carleton Putnam’s Race and Reason was written support by Senegalese bush warrior Youssou N’dour and other black Africans out to get franchise and demolish the schools promoting the Axis in the AIDS attack, an Ark of Kolorz.   When his buds at OOxxxford, the cunning ober-brilliants of Africana, straightforth to announce, again, the jinx of Carrie Gister, stomping with a brutal fortissimo pounding on the dignity of Poe by putting Saiorse Kennedy into the Montana Marquis of my devastated blog, the message from the Quilt Slayers was an old song by Penis and Garfunkel:  Old Friends/Bookends.