John Lennon and his band of foreign English were masters of ceremonies in the long range vision of crucifying the 60’s by setting them up for the 80’s when Reagan pulled some magic tricks, rabbit out of the hat style, funded by Donald Trump and stage engineered by Oliver Stone and his wizards. They scripted it and cynically cashed in on their first victim JFK. In 1995, I was in Des Moines, suffering terribly from deranged Secret Service neurohypnosis justifying Mt. Desert Island by claiming I was hiding something, as a neuroplastic head trauma exploded in my head, my eyes nearly separated, I was screaming and screaming and screaming by the Des Moines River, until I remembered being kidnapped as a child as I tried to hide freezing in the snow.
You are expected to believe that the people who did all this to me (by which I mean what you will find in my affidavits) are not hiding what it is really all about, so, you might want to examine this letter as, well, a description of what they are not hiding, myuh. HitlerDonald has a vision of me from the days when Reagan looked down his nose at Kennedy’s vision, holding theirs in contempt of exchange students. Why, we know what we’ll do, they klukked, we’ll give you an exchange student, myuh. So, with the help of Lennon and Ono, they substituted me, called in Midori Goto to reject me for the assassins, and had a barn-burner called Two Virgins Pussyball, all planned and clocked to the AIDS attack as all the evidence shows.
Key words: as all the evidence shows. Avoiding that little issue, they have a lucrative fairy tale boiling on the stove with the help of agents named Lucarelli and Tive, the lucar-tives. Lucarelli moved into my family for the pinch of the script once Rusted Root and Warhol were in place to cover for Mt. Desert Island. Lucarelli is encrypted with Alucard, the reverse order lettering of Dracula, lucar, A.D. in the making. Enzymed with the totality they fluxused what their muse implied, I am the walrus, you are me and we are all together, even Hitler? Why yes, even Hitler can be saved by Jesus, snickered Franklin Graham calling his crony Hitler by the new name of Lazarus (it’s in his book) for being back from the dead. Not even Hitler, Lucarelli fluxused over JFK.
Oh, my yes, word, no, we don’t want to embarrass them Bushes.
People like G. Gordon Liddy used to say things like if it is possible someone will do it. The message was not to let real hard core things get around, I guess. But why can’t the FBI see what happened? Why weren’t they prepared to properly evaluate? Why can’t they speak the language of the US much less the human race? What Pittsburgh justified as not shouting fire in a crowded theater was their billing of the right to tell customers come on in full knowing it was ablaze. The reason I don’t understand is because I do, they must have wanted people to die, they must have felt that the very trick at work was so good it was the best way, to play that it was like turning the tables just to let it all happen. I like to let things go, too, but putting my name on the AIDS attack is a bit much, Obama.
Escalation by escalation King Crimson just can’t get it through their heads that all their fiendish attempts to process lies is leading to inhuman destiny. The facts are in about Pitt and New York City: Mark Nordenberg and Yoko Ono are weird, crooked, criminal and uncouth. Peter Leo and Penis Gabriel ran an all-purpose scammerization committee, entered into a pact of scam, and called it Culture 101, shazam. How ellipsoidal is their rock and roll nuttiness? I tried to warn everybody and they acted like the word warning was threatening them. I know that people think the humanities are hot air but if we are going to evoke social sciences maybe we should at least get somewhere.
Misunderstanding in America is a combination lock. Evoking Lincoln’s adage that a house divided against itself cannot stand, Trump demands a nation united against itself, which in my view means it has already fallen. Reagan’s Americans are scammers who pass the interrogation. Pittburgh’s letter to the new millennium is to thank each and every one of us, partners, for bullshitting ourselves and others. This Hollywood Hades thing I’ve found, this parochial acid test, affects me not only because I know the spirit of the idea in which it is written, but I understand also its foundation contempt, not just for me, but for those who allowed me to be singled out. They know how you explain it to yourself, and they’re more than happy to help you. They say I’m special pleading while thinking myself Weezo. Maybe Her Majesty’s fools figure we’ll all shrug and say thank God we all know that’s not true, but the idea is founded not in Weezo but in a Big Picture idea of criminal derision towards humanism as a spectacle of hostility towards our faith. What made Robert Kennedy so brilliant was that he believed what he was saying, he thought well of mankind. Adlai Stevenson told it well too, he said that immigrants come here believing in the value of participatory government, they are relieved to find it is real. People the world over stepped up and said yes, that’s all we want, we our want our dignity. And the killers answered, you think you’re God. What is that supposed to mean? The Attillas announce that believing in the possibilities of the human race on earth is tantamount to blasphemy and they want to punish the idea forever with the rules of Satanic Hollywood triumphant from the sniper shadows.
How Reagan can you get?
What did it mean that they want my language? It means that they see the idea of folkways as being so much higher than stateways that people convince themselves that language idioms are a sacred claim to superior position in society or something. That’s why Adrian Belew’s geekiness was coveted by Geffen, but Belew you are no RFK. There’s not a goddamn thing worth knowing that I didn’t learn from a Korean woman with Downs Syndrome. She taught me enough to return to school where I learned a political word: stomata, the vaginas of undersea flowers, they symbolize friendship, fertility, learning and being. Put some seriousness into such things before you ask me to stand for God Bless America.
People say I’m a peace wuss from Punk League, and that I brought all this cruelty on myself and should pipe down and take it. I’m not going to sit still like Jesse Jackson and become a vegetable just because some political nut takes me on calling me an adulterer through a manufacture of his own devising, making a point about the inferiority of the at risk, paranormal intelligence they think parochial entrapment must be. I certainly appreciate your moral grandstanding, certainly in a better world it would be nice to think that our customs, laws and people would protect the sort of love and family I dreamed of starting with the girl who took my heart, but there is a lot at work here that isn’t kosher in the way that King Crimson makes their Goblin Law sound like they they are defending. For one thing this new system of righteousness gunned down JFK, and I’m not down with it. King Crimson’s Trumpet of Slime aside there is a lot of runic detail in the Royal Tale they wish to utter hereby.
Carmen Colucci was a thief. They called him Flash. His best friend was named Buttons. This was back in the days of Danny Murtaugh, when the Ford Brothers were putting out lightbulbs with paperclips. Throwing aside all association with the notion of prudence they have captured the throng with this buzzardly poetry.
