The goodfellas of Olympia are neat, just neat, they created a pale, white thing to blame, a thing to do evil to and snigger with kraut-trusting English and their heavenly Israeli dacoits with their Trump coins freshly minted.

My goal in this writing of Dec. 16, 2018 is to explain clearly why I believe that the gang who poisoned me in the mouth upon return to Seattle were behind the rub out of Donnie Chin in Chinatown. The message would be the same, if so. They want me to cure my mouth and they aren’t going to tolerate honest evidence readers. I have written a lot on this subject not all of which can come to light right now because of the exhausting labor involved. But I will do my level best to show you what I think is at work. I also think there are reasons to be wary of my view that make sense. A death of someone honest and loved someone else will say is an opportunity to promote my so-called theories. I wouldn’t blame someone for being careful. To say my suspicions are baseless is a lot better than saying I am to blame. I am suspicious, though.

In the scrim of events that I call chapters in a murder series as vicious, Christianiac, and diabolical as Doestoevsky’s The Devils, killing Donnie Chin has the aspect of DX (diagnosis) taunting, a nyeah-nyeah, nobody believe n’you that friends of ATS back home in Pittsburgh would scorn saying, Jae-ames is gonna make it into a whole big thing. Just as in some areas of the Kennedy deaths it brings out a cloud of remarks like, oh, no one will talk or tell the truth, it might embarrass the family, but it is also good to know that when someone like Mr. Chin gets Serpico’d, if that’s what happened, that some of us just want to be sure the world knows he was treasured enough that we will intend to look into everything as civilized men. This wasn’t a feud in my opinion.

Rose Lee would no more have hurt Donnie Chin that I would have hurt deaf Chin I back home or for that matter John Lennon so it would require a good deal of scoundrel mongering and arm twisting to get people to accept a rumor that she was behind it or to blame. The very idea of it would leave her shattered. Yet Ringo Starr and Reagan have done this endlessly to me, sneering that they are punishing blame in the death of Lennon with chastisement like AIDS. In Hollywood, where this originates, and has had a good of endorsement in Queer Seattle because of Warhol’s interest, what David Bowie, whose guitarist I knew, used to call plastic reality makes the meaning-makers in a case like this interested parties. The reason what has happened in the background of this murder is secret is that no one who doesn’t want to be laughed at would say outloud that Ringo Starr isn’t heavily biased in what he is using Lennon to sell. I hear he even has the Kennedys in his pocket as back-up for the Gurdjieff Society’s prism about the settlement on 911. I’m not sure that’s true, but I do know they drafted Roberto Clemente’s name to endorse, in absentia, the rape of deaf Chin I. Obviously, they don’t enjoy evidence readers at the celebrity superstate.

What they are doing is selling something, and taking it to market through the tactics of fear. It was disturbing enough already, and that makes this case seem like a dare, “Wanna make something of it, Creary?” Right minded people in Chinatown will wonder exactly what makes me think I am on to something and put less emphasis on where it all fits in. If there’s something on anyone that can catch who killed Donnie, they don’t care if it comes from a shaman with zany ideas about little green men. They don’t want a fall guy, they don’t want far out remarks. They want the gunman brought to justice. The first thing that made me suspicious was finding his date of death in my business math notebook under the encryption, “LAST DAY.” Hmm, that professor who stopped teaching abruptly was a friend of my mother’s. I also was unhappy that a man named Ramos shot up a newspaper office while my school presented a Dr. Ramos in front of a picture of Rosa Clemente at the Honors Society and shortly after I got a patch from IOWA and heard from another sociologist of UW favored by El Centro La Raza, a Latino offed a namesake of the she’s next mother number in my family out there. That don’t prove nothing muddafugga comes loudly through the speaker.

What the Green Party likes about the military-friendly Tacoma school I’m in is the way they encourage playstation tagteams. Pittsburgh kidnapped a symbol of American Heritage, I believe the evidence shows with the blessings of my mother, helped by Ringo Starr, and they enjoyed the spectacle of child mutilation. Having run by me Trump’s alien zero sum game dissertation signed Gail Burstyn they, to quote Don Denis of Mt. Desert Island, “Grabbed it back and poured it on you steaming, I hope it’s enough,” he wrote in giving me scabies. How could the core of a military-friendly campus be the sociology division of the Green Party, who are implicated in the deportation of my father to the emerald beyond, if Neoliberalism wasn’t really their cause and behind the so-called Prison Strikes? Of course the Green Party is Neoliberal. That's the whole joke. They were created by Donald Trump. It certainly is not very edifying to be stalked and berated with the message remember the prison conditions by Disneyworld servants playing Desmond Tutu in support for those behind Mt. Desert Island, against which they want no evidence readers. Logically, that means they may example a few to sell their program without review, a man called Horse in the AIDS attack, what a movie.

Yes they are psycho, no they are not rational, rational people did not kill Kennedy and Chin, no. What they have is sway. Thos. O’Connor, working with Ming Na Wen, Oliver Stone’s Fido in Pittsburgh as a violent thug of the Trump scene would laugh things like, “You like Chinatown?” and then scream, “THEY DON’T LIKE YOU HAHAHAHAHAHA.” What we have in this case, I think, is an L.A. Confidential syndicated chapter. The British, I'm sure, think it's the funniest thing in the world.

What we see in this then is clear, from the syphilis of Penis Gabriel to the zany Hollywood of Sherman ole Alexie, Seattle self-lampoon of hatter doctor Oliver Stone Snoopy duking it out with his Omojanary Red Baron. It is the Hollywood screamfest called UW Sociology. Nothing on God's earth could possibly be found to strip the human individual of rights and human psyche of dignity like the rape UW calls Sociology.