The Texas Schoolbook was written by a consortium like Nelson Rockefeller and Ralph Tive to fascinate the media more than the life of JFK was valued. The complex at work is meant to consume digest about it by claiming authenticity and novelty as the tie that binds. In this sense they took a counterfeit which they elevated to true confederacy. Meanwhile the people who confederated think they are very wise owls and it is a problem we are stuck with because of their failure to warn. If America ever got wise to this situation they expressed that by affirming it in the popular election of the leaders responsible. Given that so much is not as it seems, there may be people in the dark who wouldn’t go along with it if they knew. My life certainly depends on that mad hope.
A book was written titled Voyage of the Damned about refugees from Hitler’s Germany who made it to the United States and were set back to die in Sobibor Concentration Camp. Ironically, the ship they were on was the St. Louis. Ironic, because I tried to get help in St. Louis where I hitchhiked from Pittsburgh, only to be condemned again to a hidden atrocity and sadism so berserk it took decades of struggle to make anyone believe it was even real. Even when I warned on murder that then befell Our Commonwealth, I was ignored and the reason appears to be a widespread acceptance that police were targeting me and that police live by their own rulebook. The murderers have sullenly demanded I be killed as a hostage for peace and have ripper murdered an innocent woman to show the alternative.
It is less police than Hollywood, but in a sad sense, too, it is the University of Washington. They have sacred lights of a new doctrine of mayhem like Sherman Alexie, basking in the glow of confederacy with Sean Lennon from New York, announcing their coolness from the groovy of Native American grudge against the white, nevermind that they are Pow Wow dancing with nobody more timeless than the Velvet Underground, which is the pantheon that Sherman Alexie really belongs to, for all his howling to the Sun God about giving back the money of the Black Hills, the ripper penny is defense of Elton John’s whorehouse paradise. These days it all strings up to a Hollywood bazaar.
I want to make available some statement about what Ian Wattenmaker very honestly called, “treacher tracks,” the use of Arnie Sacnusums by the AIDS attackers going way back in planning. I have shown reasonable suspicion about a word game: Billy Club on the way I was rivalled by Billy Rodd, Billy Beck and Billy Flynn after an English boy told me he was going to get nasty with me. Rodd was there when a man named Kasper attacked me blindside, as did another man named Ronnie. Ronnie and Kasper are like Reagan and Weinberger. The question then was there a Donald Club and what did it mean. Donald Gruber spread a story about the pee hole surgery I suffered by Mendel Silverman, a friend of Sidney Busis, holocaust survivor and ear doctor, around the time I was gassed in King Estate. It sprayed in two directions for a while, Creary peed with forked prong, and there was a fork in the road. Gruber is 50 cents to a dollar of Schlickgruber, Hitler’s real name. There was Donald Finnegan, a tall, powerful kid who terrorized me with threats. Gonna have fun again with Finnegan. Donald Ostro with is like Ono and Strub contracted. D.O. as in marriage vows, I do, who held me in a pedophile safehouse against murderers where I was constantly brutalized for crying and begging for help, a behavior that earned me the epithet “sissy” by Dr. Proctor of the Community College, favoring a seven foot tall black man named Schugar Bear who threatened to kill me but I let him sleep in our house before we moved in. There was also Donaldo Gulligan, the baritone in Santa Cruz, DG, like Diamonda Galas.
A rape monologue was over-dubbed as a voice over by Ming Na Wen who I knew at Carnegie Mellon, working for Pentagon Disney and the script writers from the Neva Corporation, as though Reagan’s attack was a new age Ge-neva convention. They intoned the issue of rape, something Neva chronics in their pornographic drama, super-toxed me with a hottie namesake for the leader of the Green Party and then arranged isolation while making available only degrading pornography, justifying chemical castration, a murderous war game of arson and torture, raping my deaf advocate and poisoning me in the mouth, oinking at me and calling me a pig. To facilitate this, this rich Asian working with Her Majesty’s Prosecuting Service as a friend of Penis Gabriel, racialized biological warfare and claimed they were sacrificing me to solve the problem of black rage, curiously ignoring that Donald Trump’s black friends were in on it all along.
At first when Penis Gabriel began writing to me while the FEMA establishment at PITT had me in Falk Medical Library with Supervisor Waldron working on RECON, Retrospective Conversion, I thought help might arrive to defend me from child molesters stalking me, but I was wrong, he was targeting me for Warhol. The creepy letters from him got worse and the arsons started. He wasn’t defending me he was lying about me for a super-production. In the 80’s there were conspicuous exchanges like the back to back deaths of Lucille Ball and Abby Hoffman, while Spike ole Lee was crowing about Poetic Justice; this sort of thing got really loud when John Heinz died followed by John Kennedy, Jr. But a decoy of Trump appears in the film Network from the 70’s, is mentioned in Spike ole Lee’s Do The Right Thing which was made during Mt. Desert Island about which he covered for Trump and Neva, wanting only a black man’s picture on the wall, which they gave him: someone Obama. I realized I was seeing the Japanese war game of Yojimbo, an aggressor was hitting both sides to give appearance of a feud while demanding settlement in their own favor. How British, the backblade.
The real Trump Indian sign in Alexieland are things like Bailey Gatzert, an allusion to Carrie Gister, for Crary kissed her, blew up and gassed her, so Aaron Bailey, the contraction name weaselry of the Proctor Rosa College in Pittsburgh gets her, meaning the prize steed Go/to named in the Neva Script over Katz, for GK’s satisfaction in all knowing super-foresight, a model for dealing with schleps. My own mother, a namesake of Strom Thurmond’s wife, sold me into this circus from The Crown.
The curious mountebanks of Seattle sullenly ignore all the evidence. For example, while I have long suspected and been unable to prove that Catholic Worker Vince Eirene knew all about the Mancine kidnapping of me into hostage which my alien mother called their raising me as a child, all of whom led the campaign to ignore me so they could begin shouting, why didn’t you tell us when the time was ripe, there is no question that his friendship with Martin Sheen is part of the Hollywood interest. Curiously, given that Eirene’s partner Peter Shell made tapes of soundtrack from Neva for Ming Na Wen, and that Mel Gibson’s father is in Westmoreland County, Shell’s friendship with Ramsey Clark and Wen’s with Oliver Stone bring us around to the treacher track of a tiered society. Riback who showed me nuclear documents when his team tried to frame me for armed robbery after I returned from the Governors School, in which police showed me pictures of Ronnie Zzsinski and said it was me, something I hoped Robert Fripp would help me solve, only to be betrayed, said I was a “puppet of the fire” and “to play you has me tiered.” The mis-spell in the original. DT appears on the Fripp album from the summer Dean Tierno was killed by Cartieri. DT and Fripp made the eerie carrot tape of Jimmuh queebait of Waldron. Gibson’s favorite, attorney Kirshner, who had me with Pentagon Disney in D.C. when Reagan put on his alibi show of shooting James Brady (I knew a Nancy, Barbara and Jody squad back in the days of Jimmy Devlin, 1975-76 while loafing with a taxi driver’s son who lived across the street from suspected Mossad agent Harvey Friedman), used to call his slander team, “the eggman.” Why wouldn’t Trump have Peltier arrested and lied to by Ramsey Clark for a pun like tier? And why would Sherman side with the Japanese from Unit 731 making real men out of those they murder in cold blood?
Understanding the art of the finks in Britain means reckoning the truth about Poison and Holy War. Liberals, Seattle thinks, equals colonialism, and the children shall lead. While defending freedom of the press against abomination, they began calling me Custer for Abdul the Terrorist on KDKA accusing me of fondling love beads at Pitt News. The warpo world of Queen Elizabeth is truly nauseating. While rifling our heritage with plays on volumes of forgotten lore, they seeth pay no attention to that Englishman behind the curtain and laugh that anyone still loyalty to Kennedy should be prepared to pay for it by thirst.
