The discovery that AIDS was a crime originating in the American Federal System and clocked to a war game has rendered silly the idea of arguing with the criminally insane. There’s nothing left to argue. The rabid include the victims who are so hysterically brainwashed by being kept arguing and fighting for spoils (that are just insider treats being passed around by the authors of the monstrosity) that words have been proven failures. There’s no one to stand against an invisible argument that condemns them for accomplice. America gambled on its own destruction and won, parents devoured their children again. AIDS went fantastic. The Beatles did it, hooray.
When I first enrolled in Tacoma Community College I received a mail on campus announcing that marijuana use was banned that was attended by my own argument, “Public Safety is the highest cause.” It is to be understood then, since the mouth poison had already been done, I just didn’t know it yet, that the murderers at UW were incubating another round of justifying Mt. Desert Island, entrapment that proved AIDS an act of premeditation, justified as a net of capture of victims for the fascists responsible. Well and good, another three cheers for Ringo Starr. The murderers are peeing themselves, positively beside themselves with rapture at having gotten away with mass murder, torture, ripper homicide, the 911 attacks and still have queer rabid stalking innocent people openly demanding tribute to their criminal insanity.
How exciting to live in the darkest, most disgusting and nihilistic of evil times. The only question is where they will spill acid next. Behind them is no assurance from a trustworthy leader, no Kennedy or Eisenhower to explain and call us to a duty sadly named, no King to inspire, no one at all, only the pisshchrist, snickering, virulent, acid rotten face of the killer from Tojo’s Tokyo, Yoko Ono, passing out backblades to the Gummos.
I know a few of the murderers demanding tribute by answer to their encirclement, the wheelchair V.A., Tupac’s nuts, Military Honors Society, the Gay HIV Positive Glee Club, and I have endured representation of their stage drama talent for aggressive, deranged syphilitic jibbering. Despite this overwork by the criminally insane I have also managed to turn up some new leads on the conqueror division.
For some very malicious people the world is either simple, on their terms, or it is false, so I will address The Mentality Button. It is all very well for some Big Brother psycho from United Warhol Fascist Queers with AIDS to yammer hollow and bang breasted proud that it is false consciousness, a lie that the challenge of AIDS should rule you, that it diminishes the value of your life, and another entirely to already know those tunes and allow it to spread so you can seize the bully pulpit and attack innocent people, shutting down attempts to warn and minimize the victims, because of your sick and evil program of intelligence, totally different.
When Foucault and England went to the Ayatollah to arrange the 444 hostage invasion of the Embassy targeting Jimmy C. they were smirking at the mentality button. They were going to make America a ruthless dungeon of victim on victim war games, they were going to take the United States of America permanently hostage to a new Dark Age where Her Majesty’s musicians laugh about practicing earbelt gunboat politics, taking a child’s hearing for having been used for sex and saying it should be guilty, braying about honor when attacking a child blindside, engaging in serial mutilationism and calling it police work, humiliating the war veterans in wheelchairs by saying their fulfillment should be in confederacy with spreading despicable destruction of the United States, a dance no less.
And of course, the squints, offered boodle, know where you live. Black psychology instead of trying to uplift yourself by offering someone help that was never given you becomes instead ripper hatter mayhem on behalf of those who released the plague, isn’t that insightful?
The women whinge at any sight of insecurity in a man driven into homelessness, castrated for reporting being kidnapped and gassed as a child, subject to serial mutilation for testifying. We wanted storms, they whine, and you gave us butterflies, so there, you dangerous, dangerous dreamer.
When people this badly can’t bear the thought that someone else was right, it’s bedlam.
