76-90

 

n : Abandon the AIDS Cause.

diehard

June 17th, 2008, 04:32 PM

SPL 5 p.m. Tuesday. June 17th. 2008 Intl. Branch

Knowing a deaf person is being endlessly mindraped by dramaturges to whom Law is a joke is hilarious only to those who think nothing of torturing children.

Yoko Ono and the Beatlemaniacs have said they would use lies and torture again and that they will murder me for exposing their role in the AIDS onslaught under jurisdiction of their slander that I am to blame. They have tortured, raped and murdered before, mostly innocent people, many of them young, so it is not possible to be unafraid, but I will never cooperate with the abomination called The Taliban, born at Carnegie Mellon University and Real Worlds Studios in Bath, England.

Little that fiction serves the issue, it can reflect on the mindset of a fantasy-mongering English gone berzerk in guilt and greed. Good Rangers in Tolkien never sought to take away the good fortune of insulated Hobbits however such Hobbits scorned them. Bravery, unfortunately, cannot be given, even by Kings.

Robert Fripp, the two-tongued man, is expert at twisting arguments in his dishonor, blackmail and deceit. Those who have never been tortured cannot be expected to believe in it. Being sorry can serve one badly. Such are the lessons of fascist terror. Tough luck, in other words. Case CO2-623 was sabotagued by Ringo’s greed and slander. The alternative is triumph of the guilty, so the victims lost their war by attacking another innocent person. Having HIV doesn’t make a man innocent entire by some miracle. It’s hard to credit minds who mistake such matters or consider them a game, but the authors laughed up their sleeves from a long pre-meditated day away ago in history.

In other words, irreconciliable differences between me and the HIV cult will never be solved.

Love for people like Barack Obama and Midori Goto is not even a consideration. The value of love is greatly inflated when it comes to mean the opposite. No doubt many loved Hitler and ways were found to make the hearts of those who didn’t sing when they would not. I have repudiated the Beatles after torture. The HIV cult claims a right to kill me against which I have no defense. When Hitler could he used Jew on Jew. Likewise Galas. I repudiate the HIV positive cult because they tortured me and advocate for the guilty. Their ingenuity isn’t impressive at all. It’s a violation of normal social rights and dignities. They chose Hitler. They chose Ringo. That much is over. Laura Crary was simply used as a diversion against failure to warn. I never thought her incitement or her lies should have persuaded the coward Fripp. Maybe she’s changed. So be it. What’s done is done.

If Japan wanted their reputation for inhuman cruelty changed, they could start by changing their inhuman cruelty. My father for one was not proud of the atom bomb, but I will not apologize to Tojo’s bitter ronin. I apologized to Hirohito on his deathbed, but that was not enough. So we learn again that man can be broken. I mourn little Jimmy because no one else would. He deserved better from scum called King Crimson.

I won’t confederate. You tortured me. Some Jews will kill Jews, some won’t. Some HIV positive people will kill other innocent people, some won’t. My decision, my risk. I tried to warn. I tried to get help. I secured the truth. You chose to lie. This is all a dead point belabored. Seeing how it really happened has comforted my conscience against those who framed me.

Fripp is a war criminal.

Mac Crary
315 Maynard Ave. S. # 309
Seattle, WA
98104

TTY 206-621-1219

freikja

June 17th, 2008, 04:59 PM

Eggnog, if you’re going to have a sockpuppet, at least make it convincing.

Gazelam

June 17th, 2008, 08:59 PM

I don’t know. Something seems forced about the prose in this piece. I think it’s a copycat.

eggnog

June 18th, 2008, 11:30 AM

Your remarks appear accomplice commentary based on credulity towards Eno.

It was 2006 in Seattle that I heard of the organization http://hivstopswithme.org

It is feeble-minded to presume that Gabriel’s knowledge of the AIDS crime evidence begins with publication of SO in 1985. At CMU in 1983 an odd woman of the Cynthia Lennon variety had smugly harangued me about her own death being a property.

The stigmata boom is a historic fact that is as virulently denied by the warmjet set as Galileo’s contention that the Earth was round. The Pope, Gorelick, Spankstra Press, ad naseum, all glower in Ballard Pimp’s contention that the war was already lost by the time Lennon was shot. They just want to milk Chapman’s enterprise for what it’s worth.

Yet in 1985, when I was fighting publicly for divestment from South Africa and privately for online medical information for African health clinics, and pushing for early warning that AIDS is manmade and prosecution of Reagan’s obvious responsibility, Reagan’s stigmata politics, as the band played on, triggered (deliberately as the evidence shows) the sexual revolution throwing themselves into the fight by flaunting their rights and refusing to amend to the hostilities of the quarantine and tattoo program. I played into the situation also for evidence and the issue of the highest treason is involved.

To some extent AIDS isn’t really the main interest of the Bush National Security State as accepted in London. The use of mind radar was. The presumption that the masses could be eliminated was validated right away when Paul McCartney issued the summon, “the whole is greater than the sum of its parts”. Then, of course, Gabriel alibi’d Mt. Desert Island, protected the guilty, carried on about sex and Leslie Katz, made an obscene vendetta over Midori, and trotted out his token counter-victims, N’dour, Welsing, HIV Ed, eager to dance to the zietgiest of the Crimson Jim Jones Plague Master, Peter J., raping of deaf children because Hitler needed to feel better.

The Lennon Estate claim served the purpose of the AIDS onslaught brilliantly and Japanese strategic planning involved is now documented for King County, should they choose to know the truth. As usual, the sexual depradation of the HIV cult attends anything I say, nothing new or admirable, but typical enough to serve as a virtual climate.

My point should be obvious enough. http://hivstopswithme.org presumes a number of things that do not arise normally in the New York Bowie faction. First, that the AIDS victims are mature. 

I think that the late date, 2006, that this group emerged publicly in Seattle derives from the fact that the public did not face the reality of AIDS right away, and that only after long, mean horror proof of the idea that spreading it to someone else made one guilty and was unacceptably tragic, did this beknighted group gain strength and courage.

I am sure that http://hivstopswithme.org was put together by the friends of the hiv positive and responsible people, because the HIV cult resistance of Eno has all been about making as many people miserable as possible. 

Again, my point should be obvious: Had you listened to me in 1985 and told me what was going on, I could have spoken, from prison if necessary, before even the San Francisco bathhouse debacle, to those at risk saying: love your brothers, they are victims, get society behind you. Halt high risk behavior. Get word out to Africa. 

HIV STOPS WITH ME would have gotten off to a very early and timely start, but hey, I was seeing the wrong ladies as a little boy, and grunt, grunt, grunt, I’m not little Nicola, mang.

freikja

June 18th, 2008, 12:13 PM

I don’t know. Something seems forced about the prose in this piece. I think it’s a copycat.

Well, Sal seems to have taken a recent shine to him. Sal? Fess up.

Abulafia

June 18th, 2008, 03:01 PM

diehard and a few others are eggnog’s alts.

freikja

June 18th, 2008, 03:10 PM

diehard and a few others are eggnog’s alts.

Yeah, l was wondering who his alts were. Then again, l guess it’s fairly obvious. 

l’m still trying to figure out Sal’s new obsession with him.

eggnog

June 18th, 2008, 03:35 PM

I don’t think I use my nomikers as sockpuppets. I was using pollenworm when following up directly behind eggnog because I figured no one would be aware there was a follow up. I was told not to. I’m never good with names so I’m sure there is a legitimate reason to stick to just one. On the other hand, yes, in some cases, like the diehard thread opener, and the fact that I signed my real name, it is obvious.

Also, I am aware that I am dealing with the criminally insane, and that anything that can be construed as out of the ordinary may provoke another atrocity either at me or some innocent person who the HIV cult think needs to be sacrificed. There were reasons, usually, for using diehard, pollenworm, TheWhosLastTour and for not using whatever my fifth one was, like the idea of it and password being lost.

What I did not do was seek to use a fake identity to give the illusion of an exchange, much less hide my own, the exception being the rare occassion that I saw fit to sneak into the Manchester Guardian, where the Taliban originates. When a major question of stylistic difference took place, I switched tags to call attention to that fact. Someday, if I’m ever feeling really, really adroit, maybe I’ll use a fake tag somewhere in the internet to give prompts to myself if it serves the purposes of a rap in an environment where the mind benumbed knowitalls fail to ask what is appropriate and chronically angle towards what is not. I have chosen not to do that.

One reason why I post the way I do is that Corporate violence in suppression and persecution of free speech under the cloak of hip aristocracy has become pernicious enough that I realize Capitol Hill cannot be trusted with the issues at stake, and in defense of people neglected by those who got too stoned to realize they’d been had I have for the most part continued to make known the beastiality and unprovoked brutality of the coward Fripp on behalf of the monster Reagan.

The main issue isn’t the AIDS epidemic anymore. Geffen Corporation effectively brainwashed the at-risk and affected/infected generation to support the guilty, hence support for HIV positive is counter-productive at this time and I repeat that I call for the cause to be abandoned.

In anticipation of the usual lies, this isn’t the same as abandoning the Jews to Hitler. It is more like abandoning the Jews who are helping Hitler, technically known as the special detail; persons of course deserving of the profoundest pity on the deepest level, but support? I think not.

eggnog

June 18th, 2008, 03:38 PM

An example of such angling is the idea that abused deaf people owe something to the HIV positive, or should be used in victim on victim gladiator sports. I disagree.

Neither I personally, nor the deaf girl who was raped owe the HIV positive anything. On the contrary, my work has been thankless and the HIV positive betrayed it.

 Why CO2-623 Failed

eggnog

June 21st, 2008, 10:53 AM

The reason Case CO2-623 was ineffective was that when confronted with the proof of Reagan’s act of atrocity from the California dungeons of his Jewish Hitlerism The United States as planned and expected fell in line with Sen. Thos. Harkin’s scapegoat decision. No one cried for little Jimmy, and his mother threw away his defense papers.

Politically molesting an impoverished deaf man at the mercy of his stupid and unbearable mother after having tortured “it” is Vaclav Havel’s sick idea of entertainment. I was already suspicious of Havel from the smirk in his tone when he sent Jan Patochka to his death. Gabriel’s partnership with Zell on Mt. Desert Island sealed the fate of AIDS victims and human concern for history in the affair of the century. Capitol Hill is as guilty as they are.

My mother is a vicious nobody who was used by the U.S. District Court to tamper with her son’s frightening investigation into the way Vaclav Havel used the AIDS melodrama written by Reagan for his own entertainment on behalf of the guilty. It was effective because Havel’s evil sense of Beatles’ supremacy over the masses makes sense when you displace the world. Even the victims consider the Beatles larger than life and have proven willing to die for their myth, even gladly, rather than credit another marked man. Havel created a persona of me that he says deserves what was done so that other victims, too, can deserve it.

The illusion of love is important but I prefer mine without deceit, so I take it alone.

I have been reduced by poverty to slavelike responding to those responsible. I’ve long since woken up to the realization that Capitol Hill do not care that I was tortured; worse that you covered for this infamy full-knowing it was done by someone I had turned to for help from child mutilation hate crime. I have led a destroyed life by my own family’s backstabbing. Capitol Hill’s veneration of the strong and cruel has helped turn our whole world, much less this Seattle or my family, over to forces loyal to Hitlerism. Certainly, you put the finishing touches on the destroying of me.

Peter Gabriel has inverted the crime of the millenium so totally that the perpetrators have declared self-defense and demand apology. He has done this while permitting no defense for the accused. Not one word of intelligent evaluation has gotten past his psychobabble, celebrity bigotry or wall of sound. Gabriel has raised millions of dollars by misuse of my name while confiscating my labors. Behind his effectiveness is the humiliation of the queens.

There’s a difference between a man like Debt Siphon and a subhuman like Peter Gabriel. An English by its nature is an unrepentant hypocrit. It commits backstabblery so frequently that it ceases to know it is doing it. One could no more get conscience from an English than fidelity from an Italian woman or tears from a stone. An English grabs words, rhetoric of conscience and dubs it their intellectual property, leering that anyone who espouses conscience from that point onward therefore owes them tribute. Telling a subhuman like Peter Gabriel that you are non-violent is like giving a rabid monkey a loaded pistol to hold at your head.

The queens however still need Operation: Delusion Queer, in genuine desperation and despair. They clemenced and aided in the mass murder of their own (nevermind Africa). Inevitably in such circumstances this causes anguish. You have to regard people like Debt Siphon as wearing a sensory helmet. The sensory helmet emits noises and semuta clocked to his emotional machine, to use the Gurdjievian language of their A.T. S. (Artificial Tears Solution). So long as they wear their sensory helmet what they’ve done is bearable. It lies to them, tells them what good men they are, stimulates their organs of status-climbing, assures them of Eno’s love and so on, but when they take the helmet off, there are episodes of harsh truth, such that they cannot bear the sight of anyone not wearing the sensory helmet. They torture such a one until he or she too must grab the sensory helmet that allows denial of reality.

Peter Gabriel’s deranged idea that if sex was involved, (nevermind being pedophiled), a person has therefore not been tortured is the most snivelling and stupid thing I’ve even been confronted with by a poet with ties to a major university like Bath. The way he has tunnelled to divorce this case from reality in order to advance its authors has no precedent in homocidal services by English to the Gestapo.

n : Political Correctness Rides Again

eggnog

July 14th, 2008, 10:32 AM

50% of the time political correctness, as you call it, is brown-nosing the hitlers. The rest of the time it is trying to keep from being brained by them for telling the truth. That’s all I’m saying. It’s nice to be nice. That’s not political correctness, it’s commonsense.

Ballard Pimp

July 14th, 2008, 03:43 PM

Answering yourself is just silly, Jimmy.

eggnog

July 14th, 2008, 04:17 PM

My name is Mac and I was calling attention to the fact that I had added an amendment to my post by using a different sign-in which would be recognized as such, having digested the explanation given for not using a different sign in under such circumstances and finding it lacking. I don’t know who you are, but I do see your use of an old tag as identifying yourself openly as part of a ritual abuse gang. 

I hope police catch you.

Ballard Pimp

July 14th, 2008, 08:21 PM

It’s still silly, Jimmy.

eggnog

July 15th, 2008, 08:58 AM

The hard rocks in Pittsburgh used to tell their girls, “play like you love him” and “play like you were offended” and the girls would say things like, “play all innocent and shit”.

Vipers like you swoop down to kill. I told you two of you were tortured and raped, and you just piled on and cheered. I am a witness. I’m deaf. I’m a writer. I live in Chinatown. I live quietly. To whom do I pose a threat? What was done to me is utterly vile. Because of what was done to me and my girlfriend I will never have a life. What sympathy there was arrived much too late. It was done again and again and again, to the tune of the same old snarling hatecraft and lies. My report to Amnesty International was given to Scargill. Skrewdriver attacked Pitt while Ringo Starr snivelled, bellowed and he cheered them.

Katz foot bereaved letter Ian Schwarzenegger creams for moore at Karl’s dialectic Eisen drawerBarack Obama’s cultural equity virus. 

I don’t know what Robert Fripp thinks he is doing, but it is a serious crime. He took what was known to have been an orchestrated girls’ school malicious rumor and defiled us posse comitatus style with cyclists from Triangle Messenger among other things to cover horror acts of child mutilation and then subjected us to outrages that will affect our health and dignity for what little may be left of our lives. I have found out again how serious the heart poison crime is when a necessary medicine was rejected by my body last week.

Leslie Katz was far, far worse than a selfish little complainer refusing to own up to her own words and deeds, what she did she did deliberately as a burlesque of Hitlerian social anthropology for Reagan and Obama’s Ivy League parade of cynics parading as religious invaders. Be careful what you think. They can get to that now without your even knowing. Ask NASA and Gallaudet what Microsoft and Disney have learned about brain waves.

Pitt’ler’s Adolf Grunbaum parfited from the repugnant solution, nah dahbt.

Ballard Pimp’s cruel, anonymous snivelling is exactly what I expect from a pusillanimous incompetent with a hard on for an English, enjoying the juice from a mob who raped a deaf child in Pittsburgh, who went on to rock against Reagan as a time when Rock Itself was making loveslave bloodoaths to the Great AIDS Mephisto. The rabid sniveller Pimp whores for Peter Skinfield who accusered the innocent to cover the stench of his own guilt and malice. They set a high standard for turntail backstabblery. HIV was an English rich man’s convenience.

Don’t ever say I didn’t want to be your friend, Pimp. I have struggled for acceptance and to find ways to deal with you, but I don’t find Capitol Hill’s cultural gibberish either emotionally rich or meaningful as melodrama. You need an upgrade to the level of dignity. Your whirling fists are chronic and disgraceful. You fob it off on me as some sort of whacko incendiary, failing to understand that hard words for King Crimson are due. As far as their Taliban is concerned I am out, no matter what actions they take towards me as some assumed puppetslave. I want nothing to do with such a corkscrew and travesty and injustice.

I’m aware that there’s a Nixonite thread that admires a hatchet job, but there is also a cultural legacy that doesn’t. Oliver Stone has used Lennon’s name to advance Nixon and slammed the door. The apparent total absence of contempt for Vaclav Havel on this central fact of his abhorrent support for Republican gibberish is a landscape hopefully sprinkled with the seeds of future dissent where the rock industry at long and terrible last is seen for what they are. Don’t cry over spilt milk, Pimp, I sure don’t.

It’s not my place to say that Reagan didn’t release the AIDS virus when I know for a fact that he did. Trust him? They wouldn’t even let me into the Federal Building yesterday with a slightly dated Washington State I.D. I’d rather leave moral perfidy to greedy English and Seattle’s sect of Eliminators For Obama.

Ballard Pimp

July 15th, 2008, 10:59 AM

Take the meds, Jimmy. You don’t make sense without ‘em.
on : Crary vs. Hitler, et alia.

eggnog

July 22nd, 2008, 04:25 PM

As of July 2008, I am hypering again (abnormal sweating) due to yet another hospital “error” which injured my heart just a little bit further, a fact that made a play on my temper, but after the horrifying rape of my deaf girlfriend by Obama’s cult, and the entire country’s acquiesence in Hitler’s last act of malice from Mendoza, Argentina (where he escaped), ie. the planting by Reagan and Bush of the Lennon murder and 1974 AIDS scroll through the Jewish Holocaust Survivor Community upon my house, after I was nerve-gassed in gradeschool, well, a little more non-violence on my part isn’t going to hurt anybody. 

I’ve been through the details of this case, the fact that the men who tortured me were named Ronnie and Casper, just like Reagan and Weinberger; the fact that Casper implies some sort of so-called friendly ghost; the fact that as a Medical Library Clerk I pursued a group to Mt. Desert Island in Maine who were planning to start AIDS testing even before the appearance of the virus, and found, in the course of this investigation, that they had killed John Lennon. Queen Elizabeth lept to the defense of Hitler by alibi’ing Reagan and the cowardly ordeal of the Taliban that ensued as Ringo Starr wrapped the fact of his own collusion around my throat.

In my humble opinion, the inherent weaselness of an American politician has reached its apex of splendor with Barack Obama. The degree to which Oliver Stone helped Reagan author the letters of Gail Burstyn is a question central to the AIDS onslaught. After the death of President Minh, Stone adopted the name Minh Duc as an alias and I got a child prostitution call from a gang using the refrain, “me, too”. The man who sold a film about the Kennedy Assassination, who can convince anyone of anything, self-convinced of his right to use lookalikes and torture, has many options in this caper. His Taliban has projected a sordid, Freudian, but accurate image of Ringo Starr howling, “Stop me before I kill again!” The police interrogation hooliganism they subjected me to was a nightmare of sadism and seizures that no one who was silent will ever live down, no matter how close they are to me by social normality.

In the Hitler/Obama World, those who can – shoot, those who can’t join the newspaper establishments trusted for their lies. I don’t know how much this says about the folly of saving the post-Axis world, the tragedy of the Marshall Plan, or whether Ichiro is a lout, but I do know that an invisible class of people died unnecessarily from AIDS because of Paul McCartney’s Earth First mentality and decision to go along with the show. Obama, at best, is a job put together for Hitler by the Great Pharoah Johnny Cochran. Obama’s sanctimonious collusion is the hand-off from Clinton for power. His hatchet woman, Alpana, his alibi in the AIDS testing war game, should have worn a sign, “Don’t Drill Here – Buried Obama Cables”. 

Midori Goto – U Siciliani Kaspers.

One of the central questions of The Onslaught is why Arnold Schwarzenegger absolutely HAD to have a Kennedy Trophy for a War Bride. You’re not supposed to insult their authority, but you won’t find them caring about a retarded girl’s virtue, when setting fire to the bed of a torture victim with whom they have played a game of “we’ll burn you clean for Allah”. Desert Storm was an abortion.

The elitists at Real Change publish my poetry and my soft political views, but they are too estranged from their own bombarded compassion, intellectuals with a confused moral center, to report my findings about Mt. Desert Island and the backstab of the century by the Beatles. Obama has vowwed to metamorphose me to Queen Crimson, sneering that because one of the girls from gradeschool got hurt by someone else, she therefore couldn’t have seduced me purposefully, thus I am to blame for my girlfriend’s rape in one of his esoteric emergency services to the Reagan class.

Mark Driscoll

July 22nd, 2008, 05:07 PM

No!!!! I am not the Gay!!!!

Rain Monkey

July 22nd, 2008, 08:28 PM

I’m just wondering why you never mentioned “Obama’s cult” until recently, even though the events in question occurred in the late seventies, when Barack Obama was busy in school.

Why not Amy Winehouse? Maybe she was in on it too.

KittenComputerGoddess

July 22nd, 2008, 08:47 PM

Anyone turned down by the Real Change is pretty much either crazy or a zealot, I am guessing crazy.

eggnog

July 23rd, 2008, 09:48 AM

I’m just wondering why you never mentioned “Obama’s cult” until recently, even though the events in question occurred in the late seventies, when Barack Obama was busy in school.

Why not Amy Winehouse? Maybe she was in on it too.

Thank you for an interesting question. I think the fact that the age of the ghostwriter chosen by Reagan, Gail Burstyn, was 12 at the time of her first most intrumental mission, conning me into accepting letters written as though in pseudo-intellectual high mindedness by a Jewish girl with heavy thoughts, shows that the very young were aware and indoctrinated with the importance of the war. Hence, you cannot actually exonerate Barack Obama on the basis of age. Burstyn went to Bryn Mawr and was just a few years ahead of Obama.

Who Obama was and how he fit into the mission wasn’t obvious to me until I actually saw him on TV a few months ago and noted the strategic tactic of having Rev. Wright lash out about AIDS being a race crime, while Obama carefully distanced himself while encouraging a topic into the mainstream media, that AIDS is manmade, somewhat disingenuously. On the other hand, people who read me closely are certainly well aware of the following:

1. Clinton was using Leslie Katz (the Jewish American Princess) and Alpana, the Race Queen as her tokens to justify the AIDS testing operation on Mt. Desert Island.

2. I already knew that Geffen, who funds Obama, had hired Amanda Harcourt to betray my testimony of child mutilation to Amnesty International and to make a deal alibi’ing Mt. Desert Island in return for blaming me about Lennon’s murder. 

3. I knew that the celebrity superstate had embraced token survival, the COLORS Noah’s Ark system, and that a major powerplay symbolized by the sexual conquest of Midori had been Alpana’s objective when she helped the white racist klan crazies who tortured me for my father’s book dedicated to Dr. King by seducing me while Ming Na Wen and Oliver Stone plied horrific libels about me being the driver at Kelly School. I had been transformed from a deaf activist for social justice into deaf white suck, while Colin Powell called dibs in the name of quid pro quo on Mizoner.

I was extremely….extremely….brutally tortured a second time and my loved one raped. Punitive bio-medical tampering predicated on malicious allegations with probable murder outcome was executed. Various hyper-justification, a gaffe in a Roundtable discussion, a word out of line, the Obama Barack method, in other words, were invoked as I was led for years down the streets of seizures weeping from anguish, exhaustion and the sadism of truly demented and cowardly people. Robert Fripp is a berzerker needing new levels of freak out to titillate his ennui.

Anyone turned down by the Real Change is pretty much either crazy or a zealot, I am guessing crazy.

I think the explanation is actually that they feel outclassed. Despite having been horrifically tortured and homeless, I wrote a couple of books of poetry that have borderline merit. Also, they bought into the AIDS combine’s justification and backed Amanda Harcourt, so they are guilty of betraying those whom they actually do try to help. All of this conscripts their guilt which is answered easily by the pre-fabrication of treating me as a pariah. 

Do you mean Amy Shapiro, Rain Monkey? David Shapiro was in the Guttersnipes, named in the Burstyn letters, as was Leslie and she was Leslie’s best friend at the time I was in a confused and tragic affair with them as students at Ellis School. I’m sure Shapiro is a cheering section for Matt Marcus and many others in Pittsburgh at Carnegie Mellon who thought that brain damaging me and sexually overdosing me to make me the AIDS testing lab rat was justified and they are very practiced at selling their hissing in Seattle and elsewhere.

I feel very sorry about Amy Winehouse’s misfortunes right now, and am glad she has a loving boyfriend. Being too deaf to learn her music, I did note that she had made a name for herself in Manchester and was cheering a new addition to popular culture, although, well, her variations on punk out didn’t really inspire me, I mean, for all their hate crimes, Martha Gellhorn did confess to me in 1989, “the English are largely unaffected and unconcerned about AIDS”.

It’s a pity Seattle trusted them. A real shame.

Symphony buzzards smiling knowingly at the con of the golden twat like mill hunks sucking at Ayn Rand’s teet words are pointless when Mizugnug splays. Japan, Burma, El Salvador, Israel The Symphony has such noble friends. 

Ichiro Suzuki is part of an Imperialist and Nationalist Libertarian faction of spoilers that gives lie to Obama’s Colors Combine Movement and their scenario. They have placed a very, very high bet on the permanent slavishness of fan mentality as the key to Seattle civics. They used experimental mental abuse to extrude from a damaged child contents to produce Hitlerite jeering, but in the end I am not as sure as The Beatles, (and their little Japanese teeshirt vendor mogul at Safeco) in their concept of escalation dominance by mob scene, as against simple justice and dignity, that society at large will not eventually see the sick anthem of “Reagan didn’t know” for a charmed and deadly ruse designed to let AIDS spread unchallenged, while selling the Taliban to a death cult, about which all reporting got nowhere except as a UFO document for a man named Jim Marrs, the JFK researcher who betrayed JFK, or that they won’t eventually get sick at themselves for encouraging it all in the name of Brian Eno’s petulant little fight to fuck Midori Go/to. 

What it says about the true dignity of women like Christine Gregoire that she encouraged this farce is obscene. I have some things I could add about Real Change to the homeless Millionaires’ Club, but I’m not an English. I don’t work my will by taunting the resentments of the poor with innuendo and suspicion. They’ll die on their knees under Obama, the Great Taliban AIDS Czar.

Ballard Pimp

July 23rd, 2008, 10:20 AM

I’m just wondering why you never mentioned “Obama’s cult” until recently, even though the events in question occurred in the late seventies, when Barack Obama was busy in school.

Why not Amy Winehouse? Maybe she was in on it too.

Rain Monkey, I occasionally write that it is never useful to engage a true paranoid. There are several reasons I write this, but the most basic is what you see here. A true paranoid (and most schitzophrenics qualify) has created a fantasy world so complete that everything and everyone can be included. You must keep in mind that the fantasy is what the client relies upon to avoid facing that which all sane adults acccept, our own insignificance.

eggnog

July 23rd, 2008, 01:28 PM

Gabriel gave away Ballard Pimp’s game by using my words on a song called, That Voice Again. Indeed, the evil genius and twisted maniacism of the rock industry-cum-Oliver Stone played up the reversalist mentality of Hitler in favor of adoption his crime as if it were a prank in the name of Lennon. The fundamental fact remains: Those who released HIV created the Taliban and executed 911 while parading as representing the victims. This is the reason that Gabriel had to alibi Mt. Desert Island and Bowie cannot let go of Fripp’s distortion about the Katz letter.

In a word tragedy. Far less mine than yours, despite the hideousness of my spiritual and physical condition, because to be betrayed to the essence of one’s being is far more cruel when you accept the lies of those responsible than when you see them for what they are. The coward Fripp once said to me, “I’m just a human being and I resent very much being treated like anything else”, because I questioned the authenticity of his small-is-beautiful claims in show business, not maliciously, but naively. The one thing he never did was treat me like a human being. Is deaf Jeannie, the girl whose rape he executed, subhuman? Hitler would be the first to think so.

The problem with Ballard Pimp’s contention that my mental illness caused rampant and all-inclusive paranoia is that the text does not come from my mind, or my imagination. The fact that a show called Schizoid Man appears on the “I.A.N. Network” in Oliver Stone’s Wild Palms Reader is telltale in light of the fact that the song “21st Century Schizoid Man” by King Crimson was documented to have been the leit motif for the Guttersnipes gang who deafened me in an earmarking operation for the onslaught and that the nerve agent which Stone used to try and change my personality with the help of obscene, conspiratorial, abduction hostage hate crime by Kasper – the enemy within, supposedly my friend, was administered by Ian Wattenmaker, a neuro-surgeon, as documented in the Burstyn/Reagan letters for all the world to see. Stone printed my letters in Cineaste Film Quarterly and Asian Cult Cinema Magazines and is just the type to engage in programmatic paranoidization to rub out his victim mentally, while inciting pile on. 

Further evidence that I did not make this up is the fact of my history as a writer: I can’t make it up. I’m incapable of it. On the contrary, when faced with such text by the assassin group as Greg Karl’s words, “the listener is led through a bewildering myriad of surface details to arrive at the fundamental themes” I was forced to accelerate my understanding in order to grip their mentalism.

People like Barack Obama are the reason that Bobby Jindhal is so popular in David Duke country. I don’t know the word for cowardice so shrewd, mind-numbing and incessant that it develops into a primal, Schwarzeneggerian force or for hypocrisy so parched that it detonates like a plastic explosive, but the history of British backstabblery is not complete without the legend of a cur called Fripp.

less and less often i exist flip out rhyme 

-evgeny bunimovich

carnivorous chicken

July 23rd, 2008, 03:18 PM

Isn’t it “et alibi” or “et alii” or “inter alia” but not “et alia”?

eggnog

July 23rd, 2008, 06:22 PM

I suppose.

Wikipedia: et alii

Used similarly to et cetera (‘and the rest’), to stand for a list of names. Alii is actually masculine, so it can be used for men, or groups of men and women; the feminine, et aliae, is appropriate when the ‘others’ are all female. Et alia is neuter plural and thus properly used only for inanimate, genderless objects, but some use it as a gender-neutral alternative.[3]APA style uses et al. if the work cited was written by more than two authors; MLA style uses et al. for more than three authors.

On the other hand, as a creative defense, I could point out that Elizabeth Taylor (et) sent in Evangelia Karmas (Alia) from Hidden Pun Company. I gather you know the rest by now.

vBulletin® v3.8.4, Copyright ©2000-2011, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.

n : Writ of Assistance

eggnog

July 24th, 2008, 09:37 AM

Writ of American Emergency Assistance 

I would cry and cry and cry, tears I did not even know I had, to see the murder by a lifelong tormentor brought to an end, even though it be far too late to save me physically, to be unchained the spirit of California horror, in the name of Poplar Bluff, Missouri and Dallas City, Iowa, to say nothing of Pittsburgh.

Having the truth in existence where it can feasibly be copied and secreted to persons in delusion, although dangerous, obviously is a beginning in restoring sanity during the aftermath of mind-shattering tyranny: a condition not ended. It’s hardly debatable that Amnesty International’s knifing of Shannon Harps violated her rights, what makes you think they haven’t violated mine? What makes you think David Bowie’s Taliban contract with Sinatra, Hitler and Reagan is holy? Because his venom paved the way for queer culture and then betrayed it? Loveslavery for Him He maketh the truth unsayable because unbearable. Far better to eliminate deaf white suck. Freedom of Speech? The Taliban punishes freedom of thought! One bat of the eyelash and they’ll stick one of Peter Gabriel’s holy matrix crayfish into your belly button and cut off your cat’s head for good measure.

The Alternative Conflict Resolution appeasement and cooperation package worked out by Amanda Harcourt, James W. Child and Martha Harty Schienes at Carnegie Mellon for the so-called Velvet Revolution and the special psy op: The Taliban (in Obama’s bid for power) was predicated on a staged and phony “discovery” by Reagan of his own dirty work. As for the Taliban, Peter Gabriel has been consorting with mideastern mediums of that kyogen nature for as long as the Weathermen grooved to the White Album. The Hollywood connotation of the word duck is suckers. Here comes a good Gore he’ll be sniffin’ up the rear just like a good Gore should. Obama is just like Rush Limbaugh, hopping and hollering, “rachist, sexist, pants on fire!” about totally hapless people. “Hey okay”, said Mark Mancine. “Where’s your head at”?

Kyogen. 

The coward Fripp has every psycho in baseball hitlerized with the obsessive parochial sadist rocker’s goobledegook to the effect that I swore to say Reagan didn’t know. Reagan didn’t know. We will come rejoicing because Reagan didn’t know. Everyone knows why I had to say that to Hitler. Nothing to fuck around about. He came right out and threatened to kill me and still may yet. You can’t legally, much less morally, use such sophistries and Federal legerdemain against free speech in such a terrible, terrible crime. Execuitve Privilege can’t authorize AIDS. That’s the whole point. That’s why he needed the attack on James Brady for his alibi. The Press Secretary. How’s that for Greek? 

Claiming dishonesty and deception when the issue is simple truth and faithfulness to it is the bark of Old Yeller. At best, Thos. Harkin’s argument is to murderously punish honesty for being self-deception; a pitifully ridiculous and revealing platform. Everyone knows why they shot me. It wasn’t for failure to save Lennon, nor for crying over virginity. It was for telling the truth. The lib. Crary wouldn’t lie to the library.

British Machiavellianism to the point of using Old Nancy, already a hapless Carribean U-boat wifey, thoroughly reveals the dungeon at the foul heart of King Crimsonism. Who cares about their imperial perogatives when it amounts to this loathsome horseshit? Ringo Starr has transmongrelfied Frank Zappa’s finest hour into the most pitiless backbiting of Grima Wormtongue. The Beatles know no shame. What a festering epitaph for rock ‘n roll. Who the hell is Brian Peter George St. John la Baptiste de la salle Eno, anythefuckway?

Contrary to Brian Eno’s Nixon-happy, Lennon-defacing, masturbatory ellipsoidism, Reagan’s virginity scam was a long-scripted ruse diabolically written, probably on a swing by Sing Sing Island, to justify his actions after a staged and phony “intercept” recruited the now Fab Twins to Hitler’s necessary fictions. Hari Kirshner, Mr. Carrot, but Katz knew perfectly well she was evoking Lord Shiva. Reagan got Ringo to help avenge Nixon while selling the eternal wink and smirking of someone John, in the name of drunken piracy among the Thatcherite ballyhoo of Pickadilly Circus, delighted that Hitler once again assured them they wouldn’t be blamed and wouldn’t have to do anything; save, er, perhaps one exactly small tasking with respect a retarded girl to demonstrate the element.

Stopgap propaganda of the sort that defined the Rockefellerism of Beatles’ poetry in terms of their political society has only denial for utility, which is a prime reason why Paul is loved by the powerful, but untouchable by justice or reason. He did have my girlfriend raped. I did not have John Lennon shot. The difference is as humongous as Don Ostro’s pecker.

Although they labor under a foul Beatles omerta, my family has no responsibility for my views – they entirely disagree and hate me for them, just like everyone else. Reagan knew.

John Lennon and I were put together in the minds of the assassin group as the ultimate fascist escapade. The assassins used defamation as a conscious, deliberate system of social abuse and Ringo Starr underwrote them ferociously in every detail, right down to alibi’ing the AIDS onslaught. He is an atrocious war criminal who normalized collusion as a non-chalant finality in Western political decision. His read on the Katz Letter and Mt. Desert Island isn’t even meant to be sane, it’s meant instead to be taken in the spirit of: can’t we reasonably assume Reagan the Bizarro took it their way because of his known darkness of bent and well-known biases? Starr wants to normalize Reagan’s plot as a typically hateful response in order to institutionalize the fraud of the phony intercept. Reagan is Starr’s little ghost in the machine, a brother-in-arms, a twin, a partner in the abolition of free thought, much less free speech.

This hideousness began with A.D. Allen Dulles, the highest-ranking German double agent in the history of the Third Reich, just yesterday, as your mother should know. His crafty, pre-1963 books have the spitting image recipe for exactly the agent the A.H. Oswalds were and he never bothered to think of it on the Warren Commission.

Oh, it’s my neck, Brandon, is it? Bastards!

I don’t want to encourage blind faith in ideological charlatans, but there is one point on which I agree totally with Obama: Cynicism is a criminal inclination, a destructive hallucination about the world, in my humble opinion.

Duncan

July 24th, 2008, 11:43 AM

Seriously, who is Fripp. Do you mean the musician guy?

eggnog

July 24th, 2008, 03:40 PM

Very seriously, Robert Fripp of King Crimson.

The coward Fripp’s authoritarianism and decades old unprovoked hate crimes are a covert monstrosity; neither I, nor would be Thomas Jefferson, am bound to respect it. Fripp, like Hitler, figures that when people see how I die no one will be able to stomach reading me, but his bought boy Yousou N’dour is still beggar’d morally by Idi Amin.

The coward Fripp used every blackguard trick in the book to justify torture and the rape of my girlfriend. He left his calling card to bray in the pusillanimous way one expects of an English. Leslie Katz is King Crimson’s stick-at-naught alibi for their role in mass murder. If’n anyone might think they’re going to let it go, endorsed by Bill Clinton, you don’t know Amanda Goebbels, nor the job being run by English Government for Ronald Reagan.

AIDS. 

America: It never happened. Obama: It won’t happen again. Crary: It shan’t be tolerated once.

See the difference?

I’ve said what had to be said. I’ve seriously considered voting Obama, rather than boycott the election, just because of how hard I have struggled and how high a price my family has paid, trying to break the color bar over the Oval Office. My mother supported Shirley Chisholm and I was beaten half to death at Fulton Elementary School for a gradeschool talk I gave in her favor to my class. My father’s book dedicated to Dr. King brought me into the gunsights of the most maniacal segregationist crime in history, when I was too young to understand that it wasn’t random violence by envious peers because I was pretty. All the same, the danger to the dignity of the American Black man and the legacy of the Civil Rights Movement posed by a candidate from Geffen is too considerable to dismiss.

It’s perfectly clear what is in store this week as the sniveller straightsforth with the City of Faceliars in tow. More about Chilly Climate and skinheads, the usual Ono and Cohen routine. Don’t get hyper!

I’m older, so I’m not as chronically terrified by the VA Gestapo as I was at their mercy as a child, but my hatred for Pittsburgh has changed to include some unexpected English. I realize that Peter J. Shitler, confederate of Fripp, thinks the fact that some days were less tragic than others at Fulton gives vindication to his sick, hate ravaged brain, but an English and its mindset is too bitterly vile to provide much comic relief. Even if I vote Obama on legitimate race grounds, God Bless and Keep Obama ~ Far Away From Us! 

Frank Herbert originally posted:

“the whirlwind from which we learned our dances”.

Takes you back to the shack of child klavern when I first beheld that rude, baying o’er doeurves.

What’s the report?

(static, pause)

…the usual maniacal snivelling and hissing from Real Worlds.

eggnog

July 24th, 2008, 05:23 PM

In short, the AIDS crime, commissioned by Ronald Reagan, with the help of sex bribes within the New York high Geisha underworld, worked. Obama is just being sworn in to get away with it now.

Mr Sparkly Pants

July 24th, 2008, 06:37 PM

Seriously, who is Fripp. Do you mean the musician guy?

I think that’s who he means, yes.

Eggnog, is Robert Fripp a coward?

Mr Sparkly Pants

July 24th, 2008, 06:39 PM

rude, baying o’er doeurves.

This is definitely the name of my next band.

Rain Monkey

July 24th, 2008, 09:19 PM

One of the earliest documented HIV-1 infections was discovered in a preserved blood sample taken in 1959 from a man from Leopoldville, Belgian Congo (now Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of the Congo).[32]

32. http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v391/n6667/full/391594a0.html

In 1959 Ronald Reagan was a third rate actor.

Robert Fripp

July 24th, 2008, 09:37 PM

Seriously, who is Fripp. Do you mean the musician guy?

I play with a band sometimes, but most of the time I teach music.

That is, when I’m not plotting the downfall of Western Civ, or creating some never-heard-of disease.

Rain Monkey

July 24th, 2008, 09:41 PM

… is Robert Fripp a coward?

I heard that David Bowie wanted to kick his ass, but he ran away screaming like a girl.

Jesus Christ

July 24th, 2008, 10:44 PM

Robert Fripp is My Representative on earth. I just wish He could get up the charts occasionally.

Mark Driscoll

July 24th, 2008, 10:50 PM

I play with a band sometimes, but most of the time I teach music.

That is, when I’m not plotting the downfall of Western Civ, or creating some never-heard-of disease.

I am NOT teh Gay. I never was teh gay. I thought Fripp was teh gay, but now I know: egghead is teh Gay!

eggnog

July 25th, 2008, 11:59 AM

Maybe you’d like to see the list of laws Fripp and Reagan broke abusing me.

seadickrun

July 31st, 2008, 02:56 AM

The last time I read prose like this was during one of my mother’s many bi-polar episodes. 

One day mom told me that our congressman was tapping her phone. It was during my sophomore year of high school and mom was so freaked out by the sounds on the phone that she packed up the family and we drove off. We headed towards Detroit and when we got there I mentioned that the tunnel to Canada was close by. Mom took the bait and soon we had crossed the border. I was in charge of the map and as we drove, I mentioned to mom that Niagara Falls was only a couple of hours drive away. Again, mom took the bait and I got to see the falls (from the Canadian side). Back on the road again, I mentioned to mom that Toronto was only a small drive north. Soon, we were in Toronto. I tried for Montreal and Quebec but mom regained her sanity somewhere in Canada and we headed back home. 

As I write this, I’m not sure what to believe. Mom had been in the Marine Corps and was a telephone operator handling a line to the Pentagon. She had worked for Indiana Bell at one time and really knew her shit about phones. She also was a civil servant at the time and worked in the same building as our congressman and more convincingly, she had just returned from a weekend trip to Washington, D.C. to visit said congressman. Usually when mom wigged out, we would be shipped off to some religious family for six months, then start life all over again in some crappy apartment. But just this once, her insanity got me a two week trip to Canada. 

One benefit of growing up in a bi-polar home is that it prepared me for all of the meth-heads I have encountered living in Seattle. Once they hit that six day mark of no sleep, and tell me that the FBI has a camera on the building next to theirs and is tracking their every move, I smile and remind myself and that I still haven’t been to Quebec.

eggnog

July 31st, 2008, 08:16 AM

The last time I read prose like this was during one of my mother’s many bi-polar episodes.

Well, you don’t know me. You don’t know my work history, or my research topic. You don’t know my injuries, or my publication history, nor do you know my adversaries, much less the characteristics or origin of any mental illness I may or may not have. All you know is that my testimony sounds like something which seemed like a wig out by your mother.

One day mom told me that our congressman was tapping her phone. It was during my sophomore year of high school and mom was so freaked out by the sounds on the phone that she packed up the family and we drove off.

What sort of sounds were they?

We headed towards Detroit and when we got there I mentioned that the tunnel to Canada was close by. Mom took the bait and soon we had crossed the border. I was in charge of the map and as we drove, I mentioned to mom that Niagara Falls was only a couple of hours drive away. Again, mom took the bait and I got to see the falls (from the Canadian side). Back on the road again, I mentioned to mom that Toronto was only a small drive north. Soon, we were in Toronto. 

So you got the most out of your mother while you could.

I tried for Montreal and Quebec but mom regained her sanity somewhere in Canada and we headed back home. 

By this account you mean to say either your mother fatalistically gave up attempting to get help understanding the sounds on the telephone line, or came to the conclusion she was afraid for nothing.

As I write this, I’m not sure what to believe.

You sounded so sure at the beginning. You said “insanity” and so on.

Mom had been in the Marine Corps and was a telephone operator handling a line to the Pentagon. She had worked for Indiana Bell at one time and really knew her shit about phones. She also was a civil servant at the time and worked in the same building as our congressman and more convincingly, she had just returned from a weekend trip to Washington, D.C. to visit said congressman. 

All the same, it would be easier to understand if the Congressman in question actually had a motive. Would your mother tell you?

Usually when mom wigged out, we would be shipped off to some religious family for six months, then start life all over again in some crappy apartment. But just this once, her insanity got me a two week trip to Canada. 

So, your mother, certifiably insane, got a job with a Congressman. Well and good. The NAMI will be pleased.

One benefit of growing up in a bi-polar home is that it prepared me for all of the meth-heads I have encountered living in Seattle. Once they hit that six day mark of no sleep, and tell me that the FBI has a camera on the building next to theirs and is tracking their every move, I smile and remind myself and that I still haven’t been to Quebec.

Well, your smile is a pout of mischief, aren’t we?

seadickrun

July 31st, 2008, 08:57 AM

Well, you don’t know me. You don’t know my work history, or my research topic. You don’t know my injuries, or my publication history, nor do you know my adversaries, much less the characteristics or origin of any mental illness I may or may not have. All you know is that my testimony sounds like something which seemed like a wig out by your mother.
I used to work at Langley Porter Psychiatric Institute. Your writing looks very familiar.

What sort of sounds were they?
Mom could hear clicking sounds – she claimed that she was trained to hear a bird sitting on a phone line and could tell the difference between normal static and wiretapping but mom was very dramatic. 

So you got the most out of your mother while you could.

Most of the time mom was beating the crap out of me using knowledge she learned in the Marine Corps. She taught me how to go through tear gas when I was 12. A two week vacation in neighboring Canada was one of the few good memories I have of my mother. 

By this account you mean to say either your mother fatalistically gave up attempting to get help understanding the sounds on the telephone line, or came to the conclusion she was afraid for nothing.
She realized she had maxed out her credit card and needed to get her kids back into school. It was a lucid moment. Six years later, mom told me that our pastor had picked the lock to our apartment and had stolen things. Two weeks after that, the cops took her away in a straight jacket while she recited her name, rank, and serial number from her Marine Corps days. Its hysterical now but wasn’t so funny at the time. 

You sounded so sure at the beginning. You said “insanity” and so on.

By this point in life, mom had already had 25 shock treatments and had tried committing suicide twice. I knew mom was nuts but wasn’t sure if this was one of her moments of insanity or lucidity. 

All the same, it would be easier to understand if the Congressman in question actually had a motive. Would your mother tell you?
Mom rambled on something about sex, not being a whore, etc. I think she and the congressman hooked up when she visited in D.C. Maybe the congressman was tapping her line to see if she was bragging to her friends that she had gotten porked by her representative. He was married and its plausible that her phone was being tapped. I was 14 at the time and didn’t want to think about my mother and my congressman getting nasty so I didn’t ask too many questions. 

So, your mother, certifiably insane, got a job with a Congressman. Well and good. The NAMI will be pleased.

No, mom worked in the same building but not for the congressman. It was the federal building in our little burg.
Well, your smile is a pout of mischief, aren’t we?
You were doing so well until this sentence, aren’t we? I used to listen to King Crimson and David Bowie at this time in life so I might be an accomplice.

eggnog

July 31st, 2008, 10:31 AM

I used to work at Langley Porter Psychiatric Institute. Your writing looks very familiar. 

This sounds like a disingenuous attempt to insult me with Frisco credentials. I defer to your higherness.

Mom could hear clicking sounds – she claimed that she was trained to hear a bird sitting on a phone line and could tell the difference between normal static and wiretapping but mom was very dramatic. 

I sat in on an International Peace and Security Seminar held by the Public Policy Department at Carnegie Mellon at the invitation of Granger Morgan where a man from Princeton, I believe, showed charts depicting the difference between manmade and natural earthquakes; which is to say, I might wonder at clicking sounds if I actually could hear them, particularly if I was involved in government armeggedon machine with a fair number of nuclear warheads and unprincipled paranoids at the helm, surrounded by ascendant juveniles.

Most of the time mom was beating the crap out of me using knowledge she learned in the Marine Corps. She taught me how to go through tear gas when I was 12. A two week vacation in neighboring Canada was one of the few good memories I have of my mother.

Well, I’m sorry you had a bad time with your mother. That’s very intimate. Hope you can handle it, but I would suggest you not ignor the fact that complicated interpersonal emotions sometimes get expressed by demeaning the perceived-as-offending individual in psychiatric ways. I mean, did your experience with your mother become part of your mission to work in psychiatry? Just a layman’s question along Freudian lines, not to mock you.

She realized she had maxed out her credit card and needed to get her kids back into school. It was a lucid moment. Six years later, mom told me that our pastor had picked the lock to our apartment and had stolen things. Two weeks after that, the cops took her away in a straight jacket while she recited her name, rank, and serial number from her Marine Corps days. Its hysterical now but wasn’t so funny at the time. 

Doesn’t make me laugh to think of it, really. I mean, a life of work in a cruel profession, right, leading to break down? I’ve overloaded on occassions and dissociated, but it was also very obviously an attempt to incapacitate the computer by smashing it with a hammer. Maybe your mother was a victim in ways you don’t really understand.

By this point in life, mom had already had 25 shock treatments and had tried committing suicide twice. I knew mom was nuts but wasn’t sure if this was one of her moments of insanity or lucidity. 

Shock treatments don’t exactly have my confidence. I thought Karl Menninger made some interesting points in one of his books, but even him, who my grandfather Ward knew as a neighbor in Topeka, he called, “squirrelly” having, as he put it, “seen too many permanently wrecked byproducts of their professional attention”.

Mom rambled on something about sex, not being a whore, etc. I think she and the congressman hooked up when she visited in D.C. Maybe the congressman was tapping her line to see if she was bragging to her friends that she had gotten porked by her representative. He was married and its plausible that her phone was being tapped. I was 14 at the time and didn’t want to think about my mother and my congressman getting nasty so I didn’t ask too many questions. 

I seldom talked about sex with my mother, either, and quite frankly I think the generation gap is perfectly reasonable in that respect.

No, mom worked in the same building but not for the congressman. It was the federal building in our little burg. 

Is this interview perhaps about my comments to the Chief of Command when my enlistment was refused on grounds of deafness, or perhaps a referendum on the refusal by the IRS to give me my Economic Stimulus Check applied for by the deadline as best as I was able because I accurately and factually reported torture and Reagan’s role in The Onslaught? If not, pardon the digression, but I know that building, I think, although I wouldn’t call Seattle “a burg”. You must mean Frisco.

You were doing so well until this sentence, aren’t we? I used to listen to King Crimson and David Bowie at this time in life so I might be an accomplice. 

Indeed. You belong in prison then.

Ballard Pimp

July 31st, 2008, 01:39 PM

The last time I read prose like this was during one of my mother’s many bi-polar episodes. 

It is never useful to either party to engage a true paranoid.

eggnog

July 31st, 2008, 05:21 PM

A-men.
(did you think I meant X-men?)

sal ripple

August 6th, 2008, 12:02 AM

Again Pimpatier-

What credential do you have to say “never”?

Ballard Pimp

August 6th, 2008, 02:41 PM

His body, or large pieces of it, are in the dumpster in Post Alley, across from The Spanish Table. It was self-defense.

I await his resurrection.

Ballard Pimp

August 7th, 2008, 03:02 PM

eggnog, that’s actually a pretty good imitation of sal’s style.

eggnog

August 8th, 2008, 09:23 AM

I think as a tiered society our culture is quite interesting. At the bottom are the small, vulnerable people holding out honestly against a society driven mad by the manipulations of the army and unions to create drug gangs and brain damaged political warfare, victimizing everyone, especially the conspicuously decent, notably in schools.

Then there are the well to do and athletic, private, who insulate themselves, ignor and pretend.

Above them are the politicians and ethical review cabinets like Unicef and Universities who give some attention to reminding people that this is supposed to be civilization, who teach the fine words that animals like Fripp ape.

Then, way up at the top, most powerful of all by far, lording over everyone, bellowing, pissing, hurling dung in syphillitic tantrums not to be outdone by Reagan or Nixon, is Ringo Starr. Nixon was Rosemary’s Baby, but it’s Fripp’s pap who shudda pulled out.

vBull

n : eggnog’s House of Wax

eggnog

August 3rd, 2008, 01:09 PM

An English, raping and slurring, bombing the Arabian poor, condemns Robert Mugabe. The Olympic Games are beginning. Massacres in the Sudan. Welcome to another episode of Cordial And Candor. 

Sherm Alexie is the local Jesse, hogging the mic as he pictures us clinging to every esoteric smirk. Aaron Dixon is the standard angry old Black man lurking in Tamanny Hall answerable to the pimp of whitewalls. In their fullofit-ingness these barbarous hucksters hallucinated that Peter Shell’s hawking of CIA/Mumia rubbish at Carnegie Mellon made Vincent Eirene, the blowhard garage rock star for homeless men, a credible source about heroin traffic in East End. Slavish to Hitler, they yammer, “reform!” while slamming the door on Hitler’s victims. The mentality of these assholes, both of whom would give anything to have been born white in California, is nothing new. The human race just can’t shake the damage done to its collective psyche by Hitler. Now here comes Yoko Ono, scaring seniors.

The Agnew-jowled, peckerstanced, posturing Fripp, beloved to Jesse Helmsmen, has long been the CIA’s secret weapon in the war on cultural liberties. He is a deviant surrealist of the maniacal direction you expect from the far right illuminati clarvoyants in ancient, macabre Hollywood fortunes, hidden below the billionaire line; a psychopath whose guitar is a beretta pistol equipped with a silencer. He cloaks his dagger in dapper ballet of a sort known to Hitler in the 1920’s. He shrewdly canvassed the margins, secure in his deal with Bush, gurgling Buchanan citizen’s band, klukkered to brandy in the parlors of Texas maledom, with fairy cunts divine on loan from Tokyo LaSabre. The murderer claims that the twisted savagery of what was unleashed on me by his religious cult in childhood proves me a criminal. He even had a platform: Pacifism is Immoral. Robert Fripp is the Fly Lord from Standard Oil.

You want to know who killed JFK? It was Cecil B. DeMille and Alfred Hitchcock. If you don’t think Hitler got away for this, you haven’t seen Charlie Chan at the Olympics .

The only thing the Beatles have to sell are visions of the good life that keep people gambling and ideas about celebrity that keep uneducated people silent when commentators call ballplayers “the bless’ed”. The Left everywhere are always the same. They won’t educate. They spurn protection of children. They lie about anything to advance themselves. They are hollow and filled with burning hatred. They hate being exposed more furiously than Nixon. Sean Lennon has invested in the prevalent lies of our country, where the money was, rather than the truth about our fathers.

When I think of what is coming with AIDS, I think of the police who shot themselves after Hurricane Katrina. Spike Lee made a movie, after he got dressed, screwed, had dinner, relaxed on his yacht, and then got in the mood to start hopping around. Bush’s response to Katrina made Spike Lee’s response to AIDS look like the greatest superman rescue in the history of Marvel Comics. The Black Man demands schools for his children and then tells them not to go. He knows what Hitler is on about. He can relate. New evidence in Lennon’s murder? Gimme, Spike Lee came yammering, taking by force what was offered in love. Dat mine. Hands off. Oh, you love somebody, pinko? He puffed himself all D’Aubuisson, she better give me the pussy, motherfucker. Spike Lee is just another Black Hitler, bashing the white victims of police brutality on Rodney King Day. The Black Man doesn’t care what happens to children. He’ll napalm them. He like twisted wreckage. Mental illness be the jizz. 

Do you really think with the primo libation of gossip and high fashion at his fingersnaps that Baruch Obama is gonna reform our industrial relationship to the environment, help the world’s poor or investigate the recesses of our prison industry? He’s just going to call in his old friends: The Klan and teach the dissenting …. a leh-suh. The Celebrity Superstate is a major part of the problem and with Obama in charge they’ll never be crossed again. I’ve been alone 16 years and they’re still s.langering that I’m just after the pussy, grudging me the 50 cents that I buy a stamp to write my mother with, while Larry Flynt furiously sniffs my toilet bowl, socks and underns. Knifing Shannon Harps was an expedient. If they’d had their way she’d be locked in a house being fed rat meat while the ACLU Klux protested anyone seeking an investigation. 

The suicide of Bruce Ivins (poison Ivins), The Anthrax Patriot, repeats without my saying it that those behind HIV and Mt. Desert Island (for all the lies of Flynt and Gabriel) also organized 911 while Oliver Stone lied about me being the driver at Kelly School and deluded the victims that it was a Beatles: Operation Rescue. Yoko Ono and David Geffen are the The Taliban. Queen Elizabeth called dibs on Midori in Two Virgins Race Pussyball for the Obama Ark of Rainbow.

Hey Ex-President Carrot Who did you pork ex-President Carrot? 

What Clinton and Bush used me for was just something they saw to having me hear as a traumacose hostage child and then brutally extruded into an impacted neuroplastic persona. The rest was just political action on the idea of free love and McCartney’s putting his fist to the aw, poors beaten up for following Lennon, to justify AIDS, save the Estate, raping deaf Jeannie. Black America’s guilt as allies of Adolf Hitler is a cold, gangster fact that permiates the history of East Liberty. Go ask Sherlock.

The Reagan War Machine kept The Black Family poor to sow resentment, largely by drug agents. You have been told this a thousand times and said it yourselves, and pretended to believe it while living as if it were a joke, until you became as one with it and made its cynicism your own. You refuse to accept this for the same reason Hitler’s Army was loth to open the gates at Dachau.

The Seattle Left killed Lennon. Reagan couldn’t have pulled off AIDS without Angela Davis, the twins of hate in their horrible black tower, built by David Bowie, Inc., where Barack Obama looms to champion the women who tried to push me into line for AIDS, and to distill the proper thinking in his future of Obamamanians.

Rain Monkey

August 3rd, 2008, 02:27 PM

Did you see the Blue Angeles fly over?

eggnog

August 4th, 2008, 10:25 AM

This case was designed as a lawsuit by Japan and her fascist allies in America over the use of atomic weapons in the deliverance of man from The Axis. The University of Pittsburgh’s objective has always dovetailed with London and Cali. – to do it and then make off with the money selling their version: the way Sheen took Bobby Kennedy’s persona to the cleaner after thoroughly disgracing him. I live in Seattle amazed, watching the great standstill, as The Left here tunnel and convene, seeking to hide their collusion with Hitler from the children.

What Gregoire and Clinton are going to have to face up to in court is that when you go after an innocent person sexually, you grant them license to reciprocate with tar. There has never been a woman born who could not have stopped my advances with a feather, and despite the incapacity of the Seattle Left to understand the deep game, that is, in reality, Arnold’s secret message of contempt.

Maybe it was a secret nuclear defeat and surrender. The prefix Greg is the leader of the assassin group and appears in the leadership structure of Seattle and Olympia. The Francophonic slur in Gregoire incriminates Gabriel who spoke to me in French at our summit and alibi’d Katz, attempting to convince himself and others of my harboring a date rape secret, lie after lie. In fact, the Taliban is the use of bombs to pepper scenario universal with symbols he finds digging for the proof of his pathological invention. Towards this I was imprisoned in a brain beam and subject a never-ending series of outrages by English on behalf of Adolf Hitler.

The Letter to Leslie Sanetta Katz abaout which Gabriel lied so virulently on behalf of the men who started AIDS – an unforeseen development which was explained by the discovery of the Lennon loot he was after – these men are his allies, a fact Ringo encrypted into our history, (stalking me, for example, with men named Crago and Starsinic); this Letter to Arnold’s daughter was evidence of a loving boyfriend with PTSD. That’s all. It was a set-up as subsequent developments showed, by neuro-theater poison experimenters in the Pitt facility on O’Hara Street; and a long, wierd litany of subsequent abuses lays this bear.

Ringo Starr is manifestly criminally insane. The blackblood letter, by the laws of his Taliban, automatically became mine, even if you scoff at the Ellsberg precedent, and the people’s right to know, when he called himself, “President Ringo Starr” the film The Mailman. It is against petty quibbles like this that The Taliban is discovered. He was foreign born and can never be President. That is a law. The Taliban is a joke, everyone takes it for one, even its practitioners. Starr is a fabricator who set upon another artist. He is a scourge who has destroyed forever America’s political integrity, poisoning the Democratic Party machine, making a surreal precedent of torturing and raping deaf children.

Midori Goto has taken the son of a Humanist American hero and made him her slave for countless unprovoked outrages of serial invention using direct neurological broadband constantly harassing the inner mind with Brian Eno’s monotonies; further testimony to the so-called Taliban.

AIDS was the weapon of slurs and Ringo’s soul is so forked with slurs it constitutes the entire identity structure of an English and its feudal Parliament. What did he care if he was fortifying Lennon’s killers? The money’s good.

If in your inhumanity and contempt for me you had hoped to show Lennon deserved it, you have succeeded in so far as producing the relative truth of destroying one individual and sincere, insignificant human being forever because, believe me, I hate you for it. Believe me.

Ringo Starr evidently woke up one day, like an Italian knucklehead trying to outwit the oaf who tied his shoes together and declared, “I have it! I will design a method for the rape of the human soul!” Saying he was God out to save the souls of the guilty was just profiteering while destroying the innocent. It’s rare that a cop stopping a bankrobbery starts by shooting the hostages. No problem, Ringo is rich and popular enough to forge his own medal. Beatles Paul, while claiming The Invisible Man brought into civic ballet by the invasion of Cirque del Soleil and its imbeciles, the Invisible Man of The Taliban which he claims was Lennon was, in reality, HitlerReagan being advanced upon us all. Amnesty International, in Paul’s dream world, raped deaf Jeannie as an act of non-violence, further tribute to the ingenuity of The Fuhrer.

As provincial as I am, I abstained Dave Niehaus Night at Safeco. I’ll always remember with satisfaction that slap in the face, his honor so tainted by Maz in Cooperstown. On the day I comprehended an English well enough to formulate the question, “I wonder what could render a person that vile they would do this to someone who loved them?” was the day I no longer cared what the answer was. America was betrayed to Hitler by those who we’d been taught to love most: our own mother married him.

You can say the AIDS combine got away with it because of me, that’s certainly Ringo Starr’s favorite version, but more accurate would be that the AIDS combine used me to get away. Marrying Yoko Ono was a self-inflicted mental problem that made Lennon dangerous to Leslie Katz. Ringo is just after the money in capacity as merchant of death, selling authorized lies. This is what John Stockwell came to Allentown on my birthday in 1987 to underscore, that the Beatles and CIA are in cahoots, pimping the elixir. Leadership from me is out of the question. I neither love, nor understand American Society. I live here as a condemning witness to atrocity. I can’t approach people who need to be informed because The Government has incapacitated my right to communicate by labelling me a potential dangerous schizophrenic. So I stick around home where people know better.

As for as I’m concerned, everything Robert Fripp did to me or Jeannie, he did to my grandmother. This issue is kanly, whether I am the last Crary worthy of the name. In America, the word PRIDE has lost value because it has been stolen by our enemies and then thrown in our faces by the enemy within, as a package of brainwash, always yammering that they speak for us. An English has a singularly sick power trip to call itself a friend and seek the dependency of someone whose loved one he raped. I convulse at the thought of Midori Goto’s music. I doubt sufficient people go through the notes of their family records enough to see Germany and Japan for what they really are. Since I don’t credit their claims, nor their right to butcher and scapegoat me, I hardly think I am somehow a top secretly friend of the coward Fripp. 

Naming Reagan for his treason won The United States of America over to Adolf Hitler because the backstab of an English was too cunning for a batter’d 13 year old deaf boy and Pittsburgh has vowwed never to face up to what happened to Little Jimmy. The U.S. is a land of 400,000 spineless souls. Not one of them will I every trust again. The lies of the Labor Department at Chinatown Fair were enough to burst a diamond. Even if the deaf are ingrates, I owe to them, or at least deaf Jeannie, and to children, never to forgive Yoko Ono.

A person who has been tortured can never again be truly non-violent, even if they don’t strike back because something too important to trust and love is forever broken. Unarmed, I suppose, and numb would be a better description of my state as hostage to infamy and sadism from the Geffen Dimension. If Robert Fripp, Midori Goto or Sean Lennon was arrested and hanged, I would laugh with the joy of tears and of course the same goes for Chelsea Clinton and Barack Obama. I say this like a mother who lost her child to Timothy McVeigh.

Ballard Pimp

August 4th, 2008, 12:32 PM

Did you see the Blue Angeles fly over?

Nope, but I heard ‘em.

eggnog

August 4th, 2008, 02:35 PM

A couple of womyn have recently found chivalry so so far as their value to politics you can almost justify letting them fly those planes; but the question of feminine validity in office is seriously highlighted by the fact that Clinton launched a maniacal sexual slur campaign on a child who was very decidedly of the fairer sex in the sense of being extremely weak and timid, set upon, in fact, by the most atrocious amphibians in Mendoza Aviv. The coward Patricia Fripp didn’t stop with the horrific molestation of a brutally damaged husk of a child whose only thought left was to somehow reach Fripp, who all but crawled the distance of Pittsburgh to St. Louis, only to have of all things his retarded and epileptic deaf loved one raped. This is feminine chivalry?
Jeannie was raped to punish her for telling the truth about me in Pittsburgh. This was one of the few things she heard about me that didn’t make Mrs. Clinton laugh.

Rain Monkey

August 4th, 2008, 07:18 PM

What do you have against teh English?

Ballard Pimp

August 4th, 2008, 08:48 PM

What do you have against teh English?

Their language.

Rain Monkey

August 4th, 2008, 08:58 PM

I saw an online discussion where an American girl was flirting with an English serviceman. She referred to him as British and he corrected her, said that the Welsh and Scottish are British, he is English.

As a person of Celtic descent, who is sometimes called an Anglo, I can dig it.

Hey eggnog, are you Irish like us. That’s a good enough reason to hate the English.

Back in Pennsylvania the Amish refer to anyone who is not Amish as “English.”

Hey eggnog, are you Amish? But see, they don’t have anything against the English. They don’t have anything against anybody.

eggnog

August 4th, 2008, 09:36 PM

An English made its venomous ethnic manipulations and hatreds known when I went to it defenseless, full of love and trust. We were tortured and raped on premises of slander, for insane justification, whose lies are known. 

I know my testimony strains belief, but here it is: I was earmarked as a mandatory AIDS testing guinea pig from a time pre-dating AIDS, as the laboratory documents I secured for my casebook through undercover investigation shows, but Obama created a soap opera yarn to protect the guilty, while making English estate claims on the strange, but clearly existent, Lennon murder angle, while also unleashing Oliver Stone (publicly, as his having printed my name in two magazines shows) who tortured me horribly (again: I had been tortured and molested very piteously in childhood abduction hate crimes) to punish me for speaking out. I have sought to analyze both their soap opera and their method of sabotague, which was chilling and far-reaching, to expose also their lawless suppression, pursuant to illuminating the long assassinated Public’s Right to Know in protection of Our Commonwealth. 

My father Ryland was a human rights author who crossed George Bush, Sr. when they served on the USS San Jacinto. While Bush was Director of the CIA, the fascists chose me for the strange letters because the atom bomb which saved their ship was called The Little Boy. The case was designed as a lawsuit against America’s right to use the atom bomb to bring deliverance to mankind from The Axis Powers. Accordingly, I suspect that Yoko Ono’s faction set up John Lennon for the kill on the anniversary of the Declaration of War, December 8th, 1980, when he was shot and I was blamed, an act that served the purpose of England when they accompliced the AIDS Onslaught.

Rain Monkey

August 4th, 2008, 10:24 PM

Obama created a soap opera yarn to protect the guilty,

If Obama had been eliminated early in the primaries in 2007, do you think he still would have been involved in the plot against you 30 years earlier? Are you sure it wasn’t Fred Thompson?

sal ripple

August 4th, 2008, 10:26 PM

I filmed the blue angels on my back in the dry grass just outside of pay area by the pits. I had some Bushmills to start the day. I didn’t film any of the planes, just the sound and the jet streams, and some dandelions. I am hoping to use this as effects for my forthcoming blockbuster-“Motherfucker”. I do remember seeing a fat man in a kilt along with a fat girlfriend with bad goth tattoos-and their small pet.

Ballard Pimp

August 4th, 2008, 11:06 PM

I know my testimony strains belief, but here it is: 

No, Jimmy. Something “strains belief” when it might be true or not. Your word salad doesn’t even make internal sense.

My father Ryland was a human rights author

No, he wasn’t. He wrote at great length about theories of educational organization.

But you’ve already written about how he was killed in World War Two. Except, of course, he wasn’t.

who crossed George Bush, Sr. when they served on the USS San Jacinto.

Last time it was Reagan and your father on the S.J.

The only problem with that is that there have been three U.S. Navy vessels with that name. Remember? Your father and Reagan never met. So is that why you’ve changed this part of the lie to be about Bush, Sr.?

eggnog

August 5th, 2008, 02:41 PM

Thank you for your vivid and deliberate attempts to confuse things Pimp. You should be given a prize for self-exposure.

Clinton and Obama work together, his campaign was revealing (enough even if Clinton won) to illustrate the platform. Both are funded by Geffen. If I have time today, I’ll get back to this thread with a post I’ve written Obama: The Marilyn Manson Connection, but for the time being I’m just going to repeat that I stand by what I have written.

Pimp’s asides are predicated on two shibboleths he holds very dear, actually three: 1. That the murderousness of his group hold final copy through terror as escalation dominance. 2. That the tactical abuses of my witness are so myriad on the part of Greg Karl and Peter Gabriel, who muddied the tracks malifically so Greg could get away with it, in return for cartel dominance, that I will never be able to summarize what happened to me, much less Obama’s role. 3. That people who don’t have the details on record will never be able to pick up in the middle and comprehend that in fact a reality thread is in process.

Robert Fripp

August 5th, 2008, 06:38 PM

Pimp… 
Clinton and Obama… Geffen… 

Marilyn Manson…………
Greg Karl … Peter Gabriel, 

Hey! The nutter wrote a whole rant and I’m not in it!

Rain Monkey

August 5th, 2008, 09:50 PM

Hey! The nutter wrote a whole rant and I’m not in it!

Thirty years of beating the same dead horse in letters to editors scrawled in crayon before the internet came along isn’t enough?

eggnog

August 7th, 2008, 09:48 AM

Sorry and that, but I think what the sequined and oiled Barack Obama did to Ward and Marie’s grandson is just awful. When United Colors of Benetton authored a huge worldwide campaign of AIDS awareness in the 1990’s, few people realized it was a public relations snowjob by the guilty combine and strategic arrangement for the rise of Obama.

Despite the fact that he stands for everything I do while all that he says brings a lump to my throat, it is only by contrast to Reagan for in reality Obama is a crafty, warped and cruel person, well out of the ordinary for anything but an American Executive.

While there is no question that Obama is trying to restore the humanity connection to a world all but lost, it is a consciously post-Apocalyptic arrangement.

Obama has addressed himself with catastrophic suppression of my research into the origin of HIV. He proceeded in horrible violations and with hate crime upon hate crime, on the presumption of his right to do murder on me and my loved ones in advance of a new program of race stereotypes predicated on new victims supposedly as catharsis of the past, but the agony is chilling: the plan is the AIDS combine’s plan. Obama has helped them exploit me tragically and illegally and horrifically. What apology can he hope to offer anyone for the cold-blooded murder of an American poet?

It’s the new wey. 

My crime was not wanting to sit still while Reagan, that craven, wierd nobody, talked the way he did about FDR and my father’s generation. 36 years later and thanks to Obama the men who tortured me as a child are still stalking and depradating and never been stronger. I had to come all the way to Seattle after they raped my girlfriend in Pittsburgh just for the breathing space needed to tell the truth about Mt. Desert Island.

RingOBama’s favorite hidden melody is: HIV is going to kill a billion people if not everyone in WW4 and littl’Jimmuh quee’bait is the only one who had any sort of chance at all to stop it: a refrain, please note, advanced on behalf of the guilty; a refrain, please note, that blames me for the death of Dr. King when I was seven years old; a refrain, please note, they have never dared utter aloud; a refrain, please note, quite possibly entirely true. Which brings us to another singularly momentous question: what did they know and when did they know it and why did they destroy the evidence? Obama’s endless spew of calumnies derives from a determination to secure against other relevant, harsh probabilities: that were any awareness of what was going on on my part detected (I was watched very intimately) total loss of even identified what had happened later might have ensued, leaving HitlerReagan absolutely dominant and unchallenged by Pitt News in our darkest hour; another probability is that had they warned immediately when they knew, Britain could have averted the stigmata boom and saved many lives, including John John and Princess Diana, but all that was refused in favor of a blackmail oriented confederacy on which Reagan had counted, because it satisfaction’d Bowie’s call of dibs on Midori Goto. 

The African American grudge about Go/to was to say the least an accomplice contrivance. Plain and simple. As if I was really the TFO construction van driver at Kelly School, Mrs. Na-Wen.

Blacks are the new landed gentry in the United States of America and instead of demanding that Dr. King’s humanity and the antebellum spirituality that lifted them up above others be made a standard direction in our cultural nourishment and education, they been learned in covetousness and desire for the ways of the oppressor. It’s a bum deal, even if the lucky hogs up top don’t think. Admittedly my dad was a little loose when it came to endorsing some things like nationalization of industry to protect consumers, but renouncing him as some sort of creep liberal boogieman as the Pitt Black Mafia did is obscene. Even if he was once innocent, the Mumiafication of The Seattle Left is a Geffen/Hitler snowjob. Dexter King’s Royalness Ron Sims-vastatin racist crapola makes him the prodigal son who inherited and squandered the moral high ground.

At Obama’s behest, UW has totalled me in the heart, but psychologically I cannot sue. I don’t know how and I’m too afraid of their death threats against my most defenseless loved ones; it seems a small grace note when sometimes I feel that my ability to take my hatred before God is punishment enough.

They claim in-the-know, like, to have tried to kill for reneging on Reagan’s sordid excuse for raping my girlfriend: that he didn’t know, which is the Molotv Bizarro Theory put forth as though from National Lampoon, the Bonzo actor dumbfounded, a no-fault flaw clause that Ron Ron was “purposefully excluded” by his inner circle and that he proceeded axe-murder style in rage upon the innocent, because that’s just him and why everybody loved him: problem summed up in the baseball cap seen at Dunkin’ Donuts readin': “my job’s so secret even I don’t know what it is”. ~ all very nice, latida Hollywood number by the man self framed as the man who didn’t know (as all the evidence shows); a sure sell among stricken people who choose to forget both what he was and what really happened, to say nothing of the cowardly motive behind an English.

Which brings me to the overwhelming question (oh, do not ask what is it) are we waiting too long for enlightenment? Why is philosophy kept out of our media?

Anyone who has ever been homeless out in the country can tell you that a car is a wonderful shelter. After total conversion to mass transit the cars on hand should be driven in fleets to create shelter parks in the Third World around comfort areas with group kitchens, with radio programming providing educational broadcasting in many languages from major university centers, while reforestation and waste consolidation commence. The abolition of the car as a vehicle would not as high of a cost to pay as the moral one paid in a world where an act like AIDS is considered necessary and acceptable.

vBu

n : *music history: Fink Lord Midori

eggnog

September 12th, 2008, 10:30 AM

My stomach is my biggest enemy. I’ve been murdered by loneliness, med mal and peer abuses without number. The pain there is unreal. It’s like waking up with a cast iron pot filled with anguish. No number of years has changed it at all. 

No one ever cared if mindrape of a torture victim was illegal. All they have ever seemed to have asked themselves is whether it fit some macabre enigma they admired of a foreign agent. AIDS was not only manmade but it was much the work of the squalid Betty Friedans who scamper around in 25,000 dollar jobs throughout America. All they could imagine was Leslie’s cause as just.

Gladiators are so funny, especially when they pick on children. One can just imagine J.J. P~U~T~Z selling out his country for a foreign damsel faking distress while cuddling his Reagan duck.

[snibbid] regarding the lawgiver’s prolonged bibliographical delay in repair to an egregious typo despite the precipitous likelihood of Fink Floyd’s taliban frothing: to whit

…King Crimson’s repugnant tombstone should read: Egologic Before All. I decided to scrap immediate repair due to Harcourt’s Earth First Letter to Falk Medical in 1985, “the whole is the great than the sum of its parts” when an English, gloating in vicarious cunning over the staged and phony intercept decided majestically to allow the onslaught in Lennon’s name, sure of the deception and gold.

The themic particulars have long mocked the victims. The Mysterious Chinese Magna Cum hummed of the Russian Revolution’s success being assured by peasant contempt for the czarina’s consumptive boy. How adept the realpolitikkk of Pitersburg. Ringo Starr’s motives and personality disorders are too base to bother evaluating. They gave the AIDS combine power they were obviously never due to demonstrate the pioneering experiments of the Beatles cock and bull empire in petty macabre. The Beatles are homework. Michael Reagan just wants the whole USA for his pro-Hitler Alamo.

Contrary to Larry Stone’s diagnostic yammering, coincidence occurs but not in an endless stream of litanies. The PRess keeps up this wall of sound about coincidences because that way they don’t have to look in their mirror or into their victims’ eyes.

I liked John Lennon a lot. True, and I’m sure this is one reason Ringo Starr went postal, I liked King Crimson better. But only because of the other Beatles. I also found Robert Fripp’s willingness to be lucid, rather than infallible, a little more palatable. At least until I understood his leap of faith game in service to mercenary hegemony. I live in mortal agony from having been shot by Midori Goto in the manner that Lennon was by Yoko Ono. When you laugh at me, you laugh at him, even if you don’t think so. That is why the taliban ruled such words punishable by death. Power abhors an intellectual.

The coward Fripp, molester of love, kingpin of hate, called in down Larry J. Flynt on a deaf little boy. Zappa done proud! Who disguised as Clark Kent, alias Zu~kerman! Oh, Zukerman!

Peter Gabriel lives in a crimaonal fantasy of greed, lies, slander and power triumphant. His method is blackmail. His ideal envy. His conscience a void built on mockery of human faith. How twisted it is to gloat of making the devil’s behemoth out of the world’s most philanthrophic trusts, for little better than a turn of the screw.

It’s not just that I was innocent, and that they already knew it. What Gabriel and Obama did to my mother alone is a travesty of mindrape and infamy, to say nothing of Jeannie. Peter Gabriel: Depravity be thy name.

eggnog

September 13th, 2008, 01:11 PM

Peter Gabriel’s attorney continues to ply me privately, obviously seething with malice and dread that Midori exists and I have resisted him.

klinkzl

September 13th, 2008, 01:45 PM

well, eggy, I think Goto and her people obviously knew Pitman and they either told Oliver Stone or Stone had been with Burstyn, about the fact that they had surrounded me on my way to see De De who at that time was my girlfriend and made me promise them I wouldn’t go see her. I lied to them and went to see my girlfriend. They claimed I lied to them, like they had a right to tell me not to go see who was then my girlfriend. And Peter Gabriel gets off playing this game, having Goto luring me, while he surrounds me, hissing and spitting, and jeering that I better not try to see Goto, raping deaf Jeannie to be sure the other women understood what Yoko Ono plans to do to anyone whom interferes with her “property”. 

What good does it do that I have tried to stop them through Abuse Protection Orders? The Beatles are on an egological rampage. They have people at the clubhouse braying about “Forced Marriage”, while they threaten me with HIV injection and call me a mandatory empty set.

Even I wanted to stop them, they repeat their own names in monotonous sentences over and over all day long with direct neurological radar. They have an instrument that snapped a key right out of my hand. Vanished into thin air. They got away with raping a retarded girl and calling themselves Amnesty International.

Obviously I have very little will in the matter. Obviously, I hate Goto beyond all imaginable hatred. To have my heart poison and then its very beating used as an intimate tool of manipulation? How much sadism can you get? 

All because I wouldn’t King Leer the United States and their gestapo.

vBulleti

n : Old Carrot in New Bushes

eggnog

September 17th, 2008, 09:26 AM

I should think the fact would be more than obvious by now that if the person seizing the mantle of responsibility for protecting our nation’s children is an ally of Larry Flynt then they have been profoundly betrayed. Look at what those Flynt and Obama glamorizes did to little Mac Qwee honestly just for an hour. Flynt had to import Senegalese mercenaries to justify his “nature of reality” sewage.

The American System of Government is nothing but high piracy. Responsibility is violently anathema. Any lie will do no matter how virulent and outrageous. If it is a race slander, great, all the Black gangsters will pile on. Among the merchants of greed and death, for sure Larry Flynt has admirers; those who want to believe that predating upon helpless deaf white children is holy war.

The coward Fripp, acting in agency for Bush, purposefully incapacitated my Timely Warning and Intervention Initiative of 1985 thus removing the danger of assistance for victims of AIDS, because he thought it would be funny to exploit my post-traumatic hang-ups. There is now no longer literally anything I can do. You are holding the wrong person responsible in the wrong way because of the Hydrogen Bomb equivalent of Beatles charisma underwriting Fripp’s holocaustal, egological, maniacally power-crazed, monstrous sexually abusive obsession over Midori “Go/to”. Fripp and Adolf Hitler used the American Establishment, blackmailing my mother, to convince AIDS victims that regarding me as a loser to gangrape was the answer to their prayers.

Peter Sinfield is not an evil genius. He is Hitler’s parrot, and upper class garbage. He normalized and extolled the CIA’s murderous attack on American youth. He encouraged AIDS to spread, protecting only the guilty. The stars of his comprehensive false witness program such as Leslie Katz never “won” her profane “right” to defame, torture, and rape Mac Crary and Jeannie Tamburro in a court of law. She won it only before the Imperial Wizard at the high seat of Taliban in the Geffen Corporation who took tainted witness in great bias. James Kasperowski was Cindy Rudy’s boyfriend. She wasn’t going to tell the truth about me, especially when she knew what Ringo Starr wanted to hear. 

The only thing any of the shitbags claiming Plague Mass as their mantle of leadership were ever interested in were sickening accomplice mind games and vile Gilgamesh sex war operations which they enforced with Hitler’s lies. Sinfield has subjected me to a decades long farce of fetishistic, cruel and unusual scrutiny heaped with gargantuan distortion, hatefully empowered by the egologic of his despicable collusion in the stigmata boom. He smoogies in the aristocracy, applauded for his snivels.

How long does it take for such a cowardly English to realize what he’s doing is wrong? Until his sickoism runs its course. And what the fuck do you assholes think you are doing just sitting there while this is going on? The 80’s were a time when right minded members of the experienced and hard working old breed in American letters were fighting increasing secretiveness in the State and along comes this horrifying foreign backstab.

Obama’s contribution is to say of Mt. Desert Island that Zell = Genetic Allah. Injecting deaf white suck for Taliban negroid allah is higherness von India in klan perogative. Princeton went to Cornell. Him he says so, so there, fiddle dee dee. Systems analyze it for yourself and you’ll see I’m right on the money about the Colors Noah’s Ark of tokens in plague years apologism.

Hurrah for Geffen celebrities! They will come (keep waiting) to help Hitler save you! They can and do write rock ‘n roll albums glamorizing rape, they can and do rape deaf people, they can and do bomb and murder, hunt and slander, but little Mac quee’wee is evil for crying when a Jewess cruelly abuses him in high school. Capitol Hill says so, so there.

You’ll believe it when you’re dead. Green slime! What’s up, Doc? (and so on and so forth).

Slade

September 17th, 2008, 09:54 AM

just how did you decide “eggnog” would be your name?

what with the jibbrish? 

is that barge os B/S for monkeypiss and ballard shit?

are you the survivor in seattle? is that what we all get to look forward to?

Is that the american retirement plan?

eggnog

September 17th, 2008, 12:08 PM

what are you on about slade?
n : The Chinatown Dimension

eggnog

September 20th, 2008, 10:51 AM

You poor dumb hippy. Football players are disciplined warriors, they seldom fight. They are decidedly this side the demarcation line of non-violence. They is the Dalai Lama man. All of QWest Stadium shines with them they Seahawks, now!

Nah, they are win-obsessed morons. Bush, he kept saying faith-based charity. I wondered what he was on about. Circle of thieves. Stooge row bailout. Scaring seniors seriously. Starvation we called it in the old days, when lesser men than the Bush super-breed were led to Brooklyn Bridge in a crash (wouldn’t he like to). “A jest falls from the speechless caravan”. G.O.P. Get Out Please~!!!!!

(Everybody at the Stranger Blog’s wait’n for me to intone: Zuke Howard Fripp.)

I wish I could be in Chinatown everyday helping people keeping the world safe for yoga. It’s where I actually managed to see the Radio Free Iowa image of the naval barracks shaped like a swastika. That was one almighty god bleak chill.

Leave that pleasure rock to kick a little for someone else to cheer, k-hey? Rain and nail bite’r’ater’n gimme some arthritis.

Obama, snake oil guy, he’s excited, he’s on a roll, he’s got the elixir. He got him all wired up whitey schizoid man for a neuro-electric slave gladiator over Anne Curtis. http://gallery.asianfanatics.net/index.php?act=thumbs&aid=2502&page=6 Borg 9, mein Ruby. Using Obama’s strategy, Ringo Starr, Abbey Roads and Ming Na Wen (Gang Li) tricked the AIDS victims into siding with Greg and Reagan, back before the days of Greg Starsinic, and old lace at Carnegie Mellon Student Union Newspaper for Non-Pop Journalism. Starr pouted that child molesters were people and that Lennon thought the lower third were groovy, hiding the talented tenth, ring around the posse, hap-hup, hip hip, hut two three, hup 2 the 1. “Hitler did it for us!” dying queers gloated to the posseur cheerleaders of Mendoza, I mean Modesto, Ecuador, California and Guyana, California. I’m Nyguna Kabugi and I’m comin’ to tell you how to get rrid of your teacher today! Legendary Pittman, nevermind how bitterly Lennon hated Manson. (Didn’t help that he married one). I hate to be bearer of so much bad news on a pretty rainy day (don’t forget your flu shots) but it’s not as new an age as you is like to think’m. Accepting Ono as executor of John’s will is not spacious from accepting Tojo as executor of Churchill’s or Colin Powell’s as Martin’s. You can count me out. They got me in Granpapi’s orange juice. No more grapefruit.

Yenta Ono:
Mark Mark Mark Mark Mark me a man
catch me some rye
give me the land
playing with matches a witch can get burned
so mark me the perfect man.

wanna watch me? (Do na rice, babio).

Tattle’ate’r’n on Aaron Dixon. Come get you some Commie, Esquire. A for an A. Ron of Dixon, Illinois. You insulted my toe! It is physical blow! Please tell me that one is coincidence. Not all of it is. (Who stationed you, Aaron?) The reason people afraid of my story is the inescapable tragedy of AIDS being manmade and Ringo Rotten’s huckstership of the sale. Explainerater’n the misanthro. of an English constructer’r while my poor toe scungrots (relax your thumbs).

Now C.Y. we hadda? The anarchism of nammies, the Stalinist Harkin of Iowa, it adds up to grivance mongering that worsers the Black pickpockets of white Appalachian re-education garages. Homocide as patriotism. The usual Hitlerism, courtesty Bush.

Lennon was just stupid enough to hink Ono was being clever, initialling his son SOL, like Sol Marks, the rising son. Touchy blood scam. Shiono and vengeance of Sheen. The script of Day of the Condor mirrors Story of the Bird identically and Sheen organized The Student Union at CMU with the Eirene/Sherman Alexie pouting of the Mondale wannabee scene.

Get on the bus with Helsinki Seven. http://www.washingtonbus.org

The Challenge of Atomic Energy was papi’s first pamphlet, written while at Columbia with Eisenhower and Snr. Rigor. It is also signed, Hubert M. Evans, Albert Gotlieb and Israel Light. By the way, my cyst was just a plugged oil gland, sure you’re relieved, pimp.

Time to one up the carrot blasphemy.

Lucifer: Thou shalt not kill.
Jesus: Thou shalt only kill commies.

Read this here Katz Kojiki first, then ask questions about The Man in the Orange Helmet.

North Korean really does set an interesting example for the West to follow. If we were civilized would we need such horrifying electrical discharges night and day? NK can’t be seen from outer space. They have the decency to give the ozone a rest. We should meet that standard half way. (The sniveller Lapham don’t take that sitt’n down,) now!

The Benefit whore stomach turner of all time was Ms. Celine Dion at 911 after her pals rammed the jets. Obamanegger is the AIDS Combine. There is, I believe, an aggressive and a subterranean element of the Confederacy in Seattle, Chinatown, so I don’t think the idea that Rush Limbaugh and Agnes of Valhalla are going to set fire to the town is anymore likely here than in Skokie. Obama’s strategy preyed on sex. Especially effete envy. Pink Floyd understood the plan. Act it out as a bye bye show to queers with Billy Graham’s loving kiss.

Ta, Zekes.

vBu

n : Threnody for Pittsburgh

eggnog

September 21st, 2008, 11:57 AM

In my attempts to secure non-bias’d witness to a civil story, I have had in leisure passing occassion to observe the sorry-assed spectacle of sport events in California gymnauseums, so I am aware of Schwarzenegger’s dizzying impact on the dignity of their rabid youth; yet even so and all that notwithstanding, when I read in multiple instances of the Taliban that Oliver Stone wants to bring grief to yet another little girl, I could only marvel at what sort of imbecile the State of California disgorges at turns. 

The AIDS Combine was obviously political action by the Reagan bigot faction. Fundamentalism is an awfully high-minded word that an English poisoner wormtongued to describe the tattoo’d truckloads of Wallace sniffers Ringo Starr adopted Labor Ready style bellowing, “gold!” It was obviously political action. They’d been pressuring me to fuck since childhood. It was obviously Schwarzenegger and Eastwood, too. It was obviously political action. That is why Howard Dobrushin negated the simplest answer as to .why my behavior. I followed the leer. Negation is not a trivial problem. 

While Santorum yammers that I have spread misunderstandings that kill, they were his idiots in Paris who sent wrongful, powerful, ambiguous signals through the grapevine while using my poetry for Hitler’s malicious purposes at Citadel. Many innocent persons have suffered unbearably and those are the ones still living. 

Reagan planted the letters on my house and then hired Obama, a civil rights actor in waiting, to claim I am guilty of them. Obama leers that compensating me for torture, slave labors and deadly mutilation is robbery by a genetic warfare magnate responsible for the murder of a 100 million people who was a thief, out sniffing, obsessing over virginity, because he thinks I look like Hitler, therefore I am the walrus. In between episodes of great and ravaging depradation, he rubs his greased hand on my head and hums that I’ll be saved by union recognition and gangster cooperation. 

In serving the AIDS Combine, Obama went the whole hog including the postage. He came up with a plan where the victim was not only blamed, but could be forced to grovel and beg forgiveness from Herr Ono. When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Isaac Asimov. Never underestimate the verve with which Blacks and Resident Aliens vie before the flag in pursuit of property and beagle status. 

Oliver Stone is an overseer of pickpocket desperadoes in the Taliban cordone and a magnate of bought boys like Sherm Alexie and Glabnicky who swoon before Tutty’s redneck revolver, crooning, underlie hope, undercut change, why are they so strange, those townie boys. They klukker duh klang (now perilously re-anointed “the Tribe!”) hadda right to do this or that righteous oddjobbery, vigilantee secret illegal cult style. One of the fascist, er, conservative fave rave tactics is their beloved rhetorical ploy of crying “lynch mob” and “treason” whenever someone catches them at the paper shredder. As Kissinger drones organically in his hysterical gutteral, Spike Lee pops out of his rabbit hat to rescue him and is rewarded with a faerie queen from Never-Ever Land. Both agree, Lennon was a tragedy, AIDS a statistic. Ronald Manchu gavels the not-funny register, turns off the laugh machine and arrives with an auction block, raping deaf Jeannie. 

“The eye of suspicion falls on the foreign element,” laments Greg Karl, for whom Washington leadership be named. “Caesar had to cross the Rubicon,” lamented very reverend citizen Geiger. 

False explanations astound in Obama’s camp of non-mutiny, where Black preachers are pedantically assured that JFK was done in by one little stinker, not Billy Graham. Obama piteously abuses me because it is his alibi. By exploiting isolation and brain damage he helps Goto pussywhip me as furiously as Ono did John. Should it serve the Geffen Empire, perhaps the 911 Empty Set Decree can be rescinded and another Geffen hooker assigned to my marriage bed. 

Although Ringo Franco controls the wheels of mass brainwashing, an English knows in its cunning the potential for constructive dissent, so it derfed forth the rodent Fripp to scurry forth unto the haganah throughout the land on the most miserly, petty level, down to the iron roots of the grasslands, where the Korn grows. Lesbianism in the West proved to be one of Hitler’s kornucopias. All said in Justice like my letter to Leslie Santorum. Maybe Alpana didn’t know she was married. 

The Naughty Boyz like Oliver North and Meat Weapon have common cause on Queerball. Deceive and rule. Operation: Delusion Queer is the rancorous masterpiece of Vietnam’s Lordz of the Flynz. My promise to Ronald Wilson Reagan was lawful presumption of innocence, not a Fripplerian bloodoath to the Taliban. 

One is just bout bound to speculate that Meat Weapon is a gay posseur working for Sarah Palin, and that Ringo Starr was a George Martin executor of the AIDS Onslaught whose role is Hitler’s status executor for imperial cooperation and ambassador to the underclass. The super-rich immolated little Jimmy (and I assure you Ryland Crary would have spit nails at Nancy Moore) to please the underclass, leering that both the upperclass and lowerclass are ubermensch: worthy, nah doubt, of Tel Avivi and Japanzo. Starr has repeatedly sought to force me, by inducement alternated with unreal brutality to embrace and forgive assassins as he gurgles in Faustian amuse: Havel turned syphyllitic. 

The cowardly bone Anglo blamed me and liberated Gail Burstyn. Hahahaha. How Hitler laughed and laughed and laughed. No one knew so well an English. He had grounds for gloating. It’s hard to properly characterize people as pathetic as Seattle. They’re so busy trying to prove themselves worthy of contempt that they wreck unpaid idealism with the fury of Pinkertons. Glowing from the bum up as they are praised by Oliver South, winged by North and Fripp, who assessors chummy and peckstances, “quite”. 

Sword of the Swan
self-eulogy 

I’m non-violent the way the duckbills were vegetarians.
I’ll be that way until I’m extinct.
I’ll never be able to get very far on Rubick’s cube. 
I never passed algebra.
I know I will never get out of the final box of embitterment 
in the tragic crash to being a broken man.
Whatever spark I had as a child in Pittsburgh
which made them hate me so is gone.
And yet though it is that I can only hate you
I won’t preach hate to you 
in preventing you from confusing me 
and fatiguing me
with the usual stuff about your love;
instead I offer you practical encouragement if,
in all lottery derision, you are for real.
Preach to yourself.
If you can finish algebra, make a pass at Rubick’s cube, dig dat.
Unlock your box of embitterment and go free,
whether in the limelight
or far from the madding waste,
in empty corners of a silent stage. 
I’ve always wondered what I did and I know 
for some other people who also have shattered dreams like mine
their love is anger, not hate,
and such anger speaks to a will against anguish
I (almost) admire from afar the B/R/O/K/E/N
who grieve in sorrow songs.
I’d let my hate expire, but, in the end,
it’s all I have, or even want. 

Non-violent hatred they call my “psychology”
like the trick I am playing on the Taliban Death Row. 
Torn from my sound and crowpecked despair
raped of my inner being
forced to work in service to answering slander after being mutilated
I was offered B minor.
Sorrow songs are the humiliation
against which Japan, somewhat improperly,
invented seppuku.
Hollywood squeeze you real good to get some pain for their investment.
I asked for rescue, not revenge.
Oliver South doled out a little revenge to keep me in penury.
When I saw the world at risk, an English saw only John Loot.
I was punished in hate they called love, 
an act of “men” who know no shame,
and yet ask us to live with anything,
hoping we’ll sell our sorrow songs
and embrace the way of the sword.
If you do so, in dementia, will I cheer?
How should I know, but it’s not worth a damn.
Survival is humiliation paying heavy invented dues.

n : Nazi God

eggnog

September 22nd, 2008, 09:40 AM

I realize how difficult it is for Revolutionary Magistrates, serving Hitlerism, to proceed rationally, as it is for their ilk among the Seattle Left. Aside from my case proving that at least one of the Beatles was in the AIDS Combine, the reason I am so virulently hated by those who should know better is how warped the “deep game” is that I surfaced in The Divine Light Struggle. The economic crash of Our Pre-COLORS Fuhrer is intended to set the stage for Obama, billed as The Messiah of the World’s People, time to push beyond AIDS, which was yesterday’s war, because if you don’t, the weasel Fripp has only one thing to say: Leslie Santorum.

It’s pretty saccharine to say, “we want to protect girls” and then to knife Shannon Harps, rape deaf Jeannie, encourage a virus to spread throughout the world’s ghettos to create music markets, and give a helpless virgin over to the alledged predator as a fiance for the usual recreation, but this is the license of The Celine Muh-Sheen. It’s also typical of Bush who defended our country by destroying it. Fascism has taken total revenge. Hitting us high and low, internally and thoroughly, twisting our poets into apologists for the torture of children. Barack Obama just wants to be King of the Poachers. Obama drilled sex into the neuro-trauma of a hostage child for blackmail, then organized child molesters to stalk my family murderously.

Yoko Ono got away with it.

Psychiatric malpractice is often the deliberate creation of guinea pigs through mental abuse, but seldom is such a crime this heavily documented in pre-meditation. Western Psychiatric routinely and for fun create terror feints in Pittsburgh neighborhoods to get battlefield recreation started in the domestic theater, pumping up the hysteria with paranoia and exaggeration, while rigging a screaming torture victim let loose in the streets with a nerve agent for the turket shoot. The result has been a pork barrel experimental seance by the guilty claiming research rights. 

In their stank Skokie-insured Geisha Houses, Amnesty International is understood to be non-violence as psychodrama in the plotting of muckrakers, chronics and cranks. 

AIDS seems to have sat quite well with the British Foreign Legion. I don’t have to believe they would have even tried to stop Hitler, so long as he didn’t come for them. Based on performance, I should think not, indeed.

The caustic gist of their 35 year old witch hunt is fury that I did not try to force Leslie Katz when she was prone, taunting and panting to be taken. This tantamount to treason I shall never live down. Like the suspiciously subdued reaction to torture beyond all horror, this personal history of tenderness makes me obviously dangerous and for which I owe them money.

n : No Chills

eggnog

September 23rd, 2008, 10:19 AM

In 1982, I grew a bushy, deep red beard.

Obama has a thou shalt not resist Two Virgins mindset that is criminally insane. I’m a peaceful hater when it comes to politicians. Barack and Reagan waged their war by pishburghing a con job about my inner dissonance. God Bless and Keep Obama far far away.

Calling himself a ‘fundamentalist’, that wierd, new age term of the warhead Godspellers, Reagan pitted a kidnapped Puritan against the Hitler ethos of Bill Buckley concerning AIDS victims. He had the cold, hard audacity to bring in the demented. An ignorant, the brownshirt Stone, an ugly American or should I say scarfaced American, on hallucinatories, brutal enough to whip respect into the Russians, cowardly enough to rape children, scornful enough to say to hell with civil rights these are our weapons let’s use’m and Papist enough to deploy the Pentagon-Disney brainbeam.

What they did to me is brutality from the 5th dimension. A special present in scorn from Ronald Reagan to the idea of a disabled worker. No one should have to accept that much cruelty. It was a Federally sponsored gladiator contest authored by the AIDS Combine and stage managed by Goto, Tive and SONY. Nor do I accept how disgusting it was. Obama gambles his name on the pigeonholing dialectical tactics of stereotype hypnography against the underdog of poetic license.

n : Baseball and the Troops

eggnog

September 24th, 2008, 09:59 AM

Used to wonder if I’d move back to Tipton someday. Jim Riggleman kept his promise: the Mariners are playing meaningful baseball right up to the end. He’s not going to sacrifice the dignity of the game for the first choice in the draft, and while I preferred Bob Melvin to any other manager the people are entitled to a raw, leathery strongman if them is their druthers and I’d hate to endorse an error the Seattle franchise has chronically made: to fire our men. It is a franchise, by the way, not a legal system, and I’m not much for loyalty oaths, but if they hate to see me cheer Guerrero, so be it. Should our division bring home the horse mustard the better walloping them in Spring is going to be so don’t forget on V Day V is for Varmits. 

Not that I object to sidelined coaching of a dumb everybody facing danger, on the understanding that it’s just an opinion, but I prefer non-violent stoicism in the face of high odds, so in saying no I am not hiding my head from addressing the responsibilities of American warfare, I am not a professional and can expect the example I have set to be interpreted as humiliation, but you asked me, spect I’m just bout bound to reply. You need a better orientation and quickly. Where are they now? Mired in know nothing warfare. Tell me the usul, the pedestal, the base, the five principles of being a Muslim and one decent reason not to admire them and their good works for it if is done in free choice? 

There is no trivialization in a S.W.A.T. action. You reach out to the hostage-taker, you protect them and the hostages unless forced to kill to protect the innocent and only as a dire necessity. When you fail, you feel it for life. Each and every action in war, each and every bullet should meet this criterion or result in reprimand, court-martial and discharge. Never assume the opponent is deceiving you in a peace gesture unless there is an ultimatum to hand over your weapon or abandon the helpless. 

I do not and have never owned a weapon, but I live in an undeclared domestic war zone where civil rights are a presumption that ought to be being enforced. I feel that the safety of non-violent, unarmed political writers of dissent is as important a perogative to protect as the right to bear arms. Civil liberties come before and are not subordinate to the claims of self-defense. That is a primary reason I oppose the Fighting Words Verdict. The history of its authors are well known unprovoked attacks on non-violent children who did not even know the names of their assassins or the reason. Far from being guilty of betraying the American public in AIDS, the very people who Clinton suggested I failed to understand were my neighbors. If you are reading in this an assault on the right to own firearms honestly and responsibly, you are reading your own thoughts into my words. The safety and welfare of the enemy in a war, and the community in which you live is always your responsibility. The true American Conservative and Liberals are there to help people, not conquer them. If there has to be a doctrine in command psychology it must be one false step mutual safety and deterrence. When lives are at stake you be careful, not brutal. 

No secret weapons. 

No support for mercenary activities. 

A total ban on ultimate fighting. 

No Draft Lottery. Fight those who must and are willing. Anything else is scummy and beneath the dignity of free men, resulting in our own enslavement. Imprisonment for conscience objection should never take place unless there is sabotague or obstruction when our country is attacked or certifiable risk to our troops created by physical barriers. 

Abolition of the death penalty. 

All illegal aliens are honorary pilgrims. No closed borders. Only citizens may bear arms. No loyaty oaths. Preferential treatment for non-violent leaders like Aung San and their countries when their government cooperate with reform. 

Sustainable economic policies, not greed. 

Reparations for Filipino Veterans. Mandatory African American History, Minority Studies and Sign Language in all public schools. Continued Affirmative Action. Automatic voter registration. Voting booths for Central America. 

Members of Congress, the F.B.I., CIA and Secret Service can, should and will be sent to prison if they are proven in the AIDS Combine. 

Outlaw Pretext. Staged incidents will be court-martialled, punished severely and reported to The Press. 

Lift Press restrictions. Politicians who regard the American people with hostility should be drummed from office with the severest of ridicule. 

Under no circumstances will so called special interrogation involving torture and degrading mistreatment of prisoners be tolerated. Under none. Leave it to Princeton to come up with thinktank Dilton Doiley exceptions. The answer is no. 

Recognize the bogus among our allies. 

Adopt the standard of Plato: disallow lawmakers to profit from their policies and lock the revolving door between Capitol Hill and defense contractors/or other lures against unbiased judgement. In baseball, following the rule book in ambiguous situations where no one is sure what they want to do is advisable only when no reasonable variation of value seems to offer greater hope. Base managers should only gently advise the play if they know or suspect the player’s conviction and enthusiasm conflicts with their call, unless their own gut feeling is certain. There is a difference between an ambiguous feeling and adrenaline rush. Necessity is the mother of inspiration. When the player is certain the prospective outcome bodes better, in violating a management call disobedience is justified. Failure does not condemn this incentive approach in baseball. Acceptance of an override decision is mandatory unless the do not override signal is used. Violating the do not override signal will not result in sanction if the player succeeds, otherwise it will. The reason why failure does not otherwise result in sanction is that the rule book does not guarantee success either. 

Managers who put their egos ahead of their team should be given desk jobs. 

All soldiers should be schooled in when their duties to protect the public and their conscience override command and control in situations where orders are immoral are disrupted. Fragging is never legal. Countermanding sometimes can be justified against punishment. In hurricanes they must understand instinctively when to put the boats on the trucks. 

Playing on the same team means reading each other’s enthusiasm accurately and knowingly. Developing these skills and powers are a lifelong quest for a team and its fans. Tai chi with each other semi-regularly can help build synaptic synergy. Invite the fans once a year to join in. You don’t need me, you need each other. 

Bring them home now! 

We need to consult the world and we need to start over. 

Viva the Resistance!

vBu

n : Within You (without me)

eggnog

September 25th, 2008, 09:16 AM

Obama is running a predatory cult militia. I’m the focal point he uses to give his invented grievance definition. It is important to his success that I remain anonymous except when he seeks to expand on his slanders in political action whisper campaigns. Answering such low politics at all is humiliating and self-defeating. I don’t think wanting to be left alone is as sinister as you culture police make it sound.

Writing about myself obsessively had nothing to do with being egotistical. It was a simple necessity of survival in circumstances of torture and rape. If Ronald Wilson Reagan and his sadistic, evil compatriots Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr are to be believed then I am Adolf Hitler. I killed John Lennon and released the AIDS virus, fuck you and so what. So, I could either accept that as the last word, or I could write about myself as incessantly as they lied about me. Neither experience is what you would call fun. It is because such acts are so thoroughly beyond me that made their conditioning and brutality experiments so much fun for them. Adolf was human. The Beatles are so much higher we love even him. Yoko Ono just shows you what war termites Reagan/Obama’s Oriental women really are.

The Hollywood unreality of the Obama Muh-Sheen is also a tenth victim sport known as the Taliban who assassinate at will. So, even though when I walk into Seattle Public Library and the public look at me in disgust and pity while pretending I am estranged from reality, they wouldn’t bat an eyelash if Obama’s assassins finish what they started; lie after lie after lie.

There is no support for me. No one in my family knows the first thing about love. There has been too much anguish inflicted on our house, first by Lennon’s enemies and then by his estate mongers. If I don’t put a happy face on tragedy they weigh in for the taliban and make me look sinister. They’re not unusual. It’s a guilty world.

Seeing idealism being manhandled by circus magicians in Obama’s roving encampment curdles my stomach. The AIDS Combine calling itself higher. Don’t worry, gurgles Ringo Starr, we’ll be nicer to the survivors. We promise. Our sacred love is only for those who help the victims finish up. There’s certainly nothing to thank them for. Ironically, I was an interesting and good human being, so precious and defenseless that I proved an irresistable hate object for the Jewish Community. Blond. God must have sent me right into their hands, they leered. I hesitate to say it wasn’t just the Jews, because it’s mandatory knee jerk to Celine Dion’s COLORS Political Correctness Defense Committee parroting. I was a hate object in the hands of the most abominably and relentlessly depraved Americans, with their British slovens in tow.

“Humanist,” Schwarzenegger sneered. With Midori as his pussywhip and the promise of sacred shiemish in the Frippian hall of absolute gadibe, he sought to reduce me by neurotraumatic trance to a ball of apologies, as the object of my loveslavery spat her derision, panting in the arms of the men who tortured and gassed me. Well, now you know how we feel, sneer the Jewesses and their German boyfriends. You should be more sensitive about it.

The minds of the AIDS Combine are very complex and their COLORS reasoning follows the pattern of the idea that my utility is so singularly valuable to the deceit in their public deception that my being left life-destroyed has no moral consequence. Much money has been spent mocking the idea of my dignity and due process, (justifying Mt. Desert Island of all things, even the queers leering at the Lennon gold in defense of the guilty), much less my right to livelihood and compensation. Peter Gabriel calls raping deaf Jeannie punishment and leaves little Indian head tokens around to symbolize that maybe now I’m one of the tribe. All that being true, reality and justice do not count for much. Fair? Hahahahahaha. Neither lost time, nor lost property has ever moved those who pretend not to understand. This certainly isn’t what I’d be doing if I had an unviolated soul.

Everything Obama did and said about me was necessary to Adolf Hitler’s strategy. Hitler won, and Obama presumed to the office he was promised. He calls that compromise, I’m sure. It’s abomination. Obama’s public of secret war is driven by the idea that he can do anything he wants to me, even have my girlfriend raped, because he is the Johnny Cochran here claiming Ronnie Reagan was framed. Neat, Barack. Sir John Merrick Mama. Even mama says so. The leer of his fantasms and concoctery premise that the holiness of the elephant man is an English commodity for subterfuge. Using HOllywood he lured me to Mt. Desert Island with Zell, a neo-nazi in the eugenics branch of Fripp’s Gurdjieff Society, hinting of martyrdom if I went to the fire for love.

AIDS was already truly piteous. Like anyone needed Vaclev Havel’s warped piety and vicarious ingenuity on

n : Copycat Rape at the Courier

eggnog

September 26th, 2008, 09:32 AM

On September 19, 2008, my mother, Nancy Jane Moore, a wonderful and brave, lifelong Democrat, in agony over the situation in which George Bush has left the Economy of the United States, having written them for the first time in her life, had a letter to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette printed in the Storytelling Section. In her letter, she recounts the troubled times concerning racism when Jackie Robinson entered baseball, to call attention to the absence of Black Delegates in the Republican Caucusses and Convention Hall. In her letter she recounts how the venom of the remarks in the racism of some of the other children in seventh grade sickened her to the stomach. I recall that feeling, too, from when I was young. 

I can hardly imagine what my mother would have gone through psychologically and emotionally if that klan mob had turned on her, taken her away alone in the night and set upon her in unspeakable ways or what kind of screaming wreck of what was once a human being she would have become. Since I cannot imagine that without crying, I don’t want to take it the step further of picturing her then falling into the ghoulish hands of Colin Powell, Spike Lee and Aaron Dixon. I know that mother doesn’t have the emotional imagination to understand, but even so, I would never wish it upon her or on anyone else, but I do have to be free of her misconceptions and her wolfpack of parochial normalizers, Hillary Clinton’s tribe. 

Although there are people in the Seattle Union Gospel Mission who speak very well of the hard work involved in rescuing others from the tragedy of American life, the mission of most Christian relief organized teamwork, like the mafia at Alcoholics, Anonymous, Billy Graham’s crusade, Salvation Army, the Gurdjieff Club and the Church of England is to enforce servitude to abusive situations, not help people escape them; and while the African American Community indisputably can be hardworking, chivalrous and heroic, it is just as frequently base. So it is that an English Richie Rich named Peter Sinfield and a Jewish fat man named Miles Kirshner, working together can shop around for hoodies, yobs and false witness “observors”. 

Brian Eno’s lidless eye is on an unsleeping quest for titillation of children by pedophiles he can call cosmic consciousness. Obama can distance himself, but he deployed Dr. Frances Cress Welsing to defend the AIDS Combine on the strength of the laughable claim that since she is a paranoid conspiracy theorist with a Ph.D. her madness outranks simple reality. You should know her views. They’re enough to show Obama harbors the deepest, most undying, unimaginable hostility for the white race and that his lip-service to fair play masks obedience to the frankensteinism in Reagan’s eugenic masterpiece of hate which Obama pursues with the mad zeal of a nazi pirate. He brings into Chinatown and Pittsburgh the Black CIA Praetorian Guard whose concept of romantic love is based on status sex, and whose macho and chivalry is bulwarked only by making innocent deaf people into broken slaves with all but their noses cut off. There’s nothing new about violent white predators having violent Black predators at their beck and call, or their sensualist leer over Japanese war dolls like Midori Goto, who incited this race war. 

When Newt Gingrich said that India has a higher order of Muslim Civilization than Zaire, he was talking about AIDS, David Duke’s love for Bobby Jindhal, and their mutual covetousness for a sunflower painting within their spiritual legacy of Sunflower County. 

See that pale white thing? It cried over spilt milk! It symbolizes our extermination.

n : “One More Time”

eggnog

September 27th, 2008, 09:20 AM

J.P. Morgan was a subliminal name back East underwriting the carnal belief in a dog eat dog world. One of his granddaughters, Anne Mitchell, showed up at Carnegie Mellon. Her interests were the ghoulish labor gangs in the boondock steel mills of Russia, secret deliveries of Crisco Oil to Japan during the Great War, sleeping with Black men, androgyny, Michael Jackson and Gail Burstyn. This was 1983 and she was one of the great loves of my life who I paid tribute to in the highest fashion. She met my distinguished father Ryland Wesley.

…and he died with an essay in his pocket.

As I recall, Anne knew Robert Sampson, the wheezing Purple Heart guy who schemed of getting court papers for his purposes. It was about the time that Adel Fougnies showed up with a plastering growth on her ankle she told me was caused by coffee. She hated me badly for writing openly of things she took for confidences, but not so badly that I didn’t visit her at home in her New York City brownhouse, write a pretty song with her or engage in the age old art of making love. In the very first days of the Onslaught, as I found myself wandering the streets of Shadyside, tears pouring down my face, fully aware that AIDS had been aimed by those who had tortured me. How right I was to be proven.

A lot of acid has been spilt about who my lovers have been, especially when it can be delved for its whitey angle, but in a Pittsburgh Public High School, battered, deaf and genuinely afraid, finding a little love isn’t something a well-meaning person would grudge. I mention this kiss and tell page of my considerable portfolio of grievance, of course, because of their recent occupation of my bank and the deeply personal hostility of the Reagan/Ono Menace injecting some nature of reality into us all via WaMu.

Side by side with the arrogant. bullying. lying. and malicious persona construed about me by Clinton and Ming Na Wen walked the childhood war protester, the boy who loved my mother’s Black boyfriend Scotty dearly, the battered and frightened deaf boy in 4th grade whom Karen Jordan comforted, the traumatized victim of a white race mob still stomping on his head and beating him when brave African American boys came to his rescue, total strangers in the night; the college student who protested apartheid, too visibly for his own safety, and held hands with Ralph Abernathy, describing them like Luciano’s voice, as though “God kissed” them, alumnus of Letsche Academy in the Hill District who won the Pennsylvania Governor’s School Scholarship for his poetry; the infuriated passenger at the Kelly School incident who never for one day stopped trying to identify the day labor driver.

What’s the new libel I must slave labor in answer to? Black girls of course are every pretty but I’m beaten by getting battered by their men for noticing. The Race Police have had me near castrated chemically to enforce their slanders, so you’ll have to forgive me what pleasure I have from Japanese films. In a normal world, I wouldn’t be violently forced to divulge such things. An English raped us. No one would stop him. What can you do now. The sad fact is most of the girls who invest time in me don’t realize it. I wouldn’t know how to tell them. I wouldn’t endanger them anyway, because my deaf loved one was brutally raped after a professor, a woman from India, seduced me. Deaf, debased, impoverished, we were pickings. I don’t want to give the impression I know the race of the assailant. I think he was white. One of Larry Flynt’s klansman, but they wouldn’t let me come to the trial. OUr lives are destroyed, but that was just the beginning. I have in my possession from even today an example of blackmail planted by Clinton in Seattle Public Library recycle bins. 

Midori Goto’s Reaganite burlesque on the once good name of Martin Luther King reminds me of a joke Saul Brecher used to play on the library at Fulton School, packing the books on the upper shelf so hard that if you reached for one they came down on your head ~ one tight squeeze and they all fell.

Reagan had it written both ways to say he didn’t know and laugh all the way to the bank. He knew what fascism does to people. The empty, but lurid war game of his Holy Innocence supplanted commonsense and the public’s right to know. Only the innocence were punished, but that most grieviously.

Like Midori Goto’s long-rumored spinstership, Reagan didn’t know is Ringo’s favorite parlor game diversion in his enforcement of Hitler’s RRevolution. He hides it from the public and pockets the versions, assured by the corruption of our neo-nazi judiciary, brownshirts in the AFL-CIO, and lone lorn hypocrits in Hillary’s cow farm. Goto herself is a pervert who thrives in an environment of parasitic feeding on humiliation of the host. Much of the evidence has already been destroyed and taken from future generations as Ringo gurgles at the huka, maybe if you destroy all of it The Taliban will believe you, myawk! Like J. Edgar Hoover, Ringo Starr appeals for suppression of the truth by slurring the right to livelihood of a hostage torture victim used piteously in slave labors of unspeakable depradation.

Ringo’s guilt is as colossal as his axe-murdering vigilanteeism. The Stigmata Boom was pre-meditated. Reagan wanted the at risk to repudiate responsible testing and processes. Diamonda Galas and Cornell West are not clever. All was predicted. Nothing could have been more obvious from the writings of Karl and Burstyn. Karl is a snide parochial sniveller. He had examined many classical literatures, most particularly Victor Hugo. Far from deserving the element of trust, the implicated should show a shred of loyalty to our beleagured nation and step down if nothing else out of self-respect, instead of dragging us endlessly through the mire of Reagan didn’t know.

The Taliban is the Court of the Crimson in Story of the Bird. The author is Judge and Jury. The quisling profess defense. The accused was voided of all rights; punished by empowered slanders for years in the a surreal private unreality created by moguls. Hollywood is the control force, Washington, D.C. is the front of its grim charade. One of your children walking to school was murdered by them and the President of the United States, shivvering in his wet panties, said it was justified, there is nothing he could do. Then the Beatles HOlding Company arrived gnashing, spitting and vilifying the dead, a twelve year old. If anyone detected the being-mentation of complaint, British Labor abducted another innocent child, slit its throat, buried it alive, or raped it and left it for dead, leaving behind their calling card: Amnesty International, and a voice mail message: COnsider yourself lucky.

But Hitler he, he, he, he, he did not know.

Commie kuma kotya. Morgue-gan. Anne wouldn’t call it a fibbie, she’d call it “a stretcher”.

 Lese Majeste

eggnog

September 28th, 2008, 04:24 PM

Maybe I read it somewhere, but I picked up the impression some of the Mariners are reluctant to go deep into the count and it occurred to me, when observing a situation where it might have helped, that perhaps they just need a persuasive reason for doing so.

The moment was bases loaded no outs for Lopez and a great feeling of lacadaisical uncertainty settled over the moment as pitcher and batter sized each other up and Lopez swinging at once fell short. My argument is that waiting, even if a strike two was thrown, wouldhave intensified drama and suspense. This is the element that was lacking. One almost had the feeling instead that Jose was thinking, “so long as it isn’t a double play, I’ll be happy”. High drama and a double play would have been exciting. Fall back in the count. It puts hair on your chest.

Probably the glowering warriors of Safeco resent the feeling that I would secretly gloat in a chance to give a speech there telling a large group how fucked up they’ve been, about our country’s power, prestige and obligations. They aren’t far from wrong.

When John McCain, laughing like nuclear Meieren, says something like Power Means Responsibility he’s just parsing words into a euphemism for corruption. He’s used to debating dolts like Obama who don’t know when not to be too stubborn about stupid opinions, and who seem to think their audience might not catch it if he splits hairs too much about words like pre-condition and preparation. Obama should just say, you’re right Mr. McCain when McCain blowhards about Iran, but if’n him he Barack of Fickes Hall is going to insist on being such a whitewash dandy for the Democrats he should at least know when to poo-poo the Republican’s chosen monster; but boy what a cover up operator that Barack is, slick and oiled in his bid for power. The audacity of deceit in McCain to evoke the name of Ronald Wilson Reagan to mock Obama’s willingness to discuss things with a country whose passenger jet Admiral Crowe shot down. Where once did Obama say he would sell them Exocet missiles via Israel to fund Oliver North’s play acting that he is Martin Luther King in civil disobedience terrorism through Central America in violation of Congress. Ten to one you have no idea what I am talking about.

They all seem to think a promise to Reagan before all the evidence was in should hold the power of law, just because it holds a mob scene enthralled. Like the threat that wasn’t.

Is Ichiro just an Imperial gladiator sent here by Hitler’s forces to finish off Little Boy Two? Or is Ichiro just a patsy in Reagan’s domino system of fall guys? I cannot say for sure, but I know enough about the heavyweights thrown by Lewis Lapham and George Bush at two deaf, impoverished victims of rape and torture from their lair of Svengalis in Safire County to return his autographed baseball card over the rape of deaf Jeannie. As for Yousou N’dour legion of Jewish buddies, tell it to Idi Amin, and David Bowie’s pre-recorded retort: If you think that’s bad look at AIDS doesn’t come across persuasively from those defending the perpetrators and who failed to warn in a bid for consolidation of nefarious, revolutionary empire.

I think the Reagan Kingdom of Confederate/Nazi/White Supremacist/Ultra-Corporate/anonymous foreign billionaires, and their rock n’ roll loveslave operation in language coding most significantly constitutes an illegal and pun-de-guerre roadshow predicated in a doctrine of Lese Majeste in defense of a claque of murdering imbeciles. The Monster Reagan was a fire hazard. You should be made to listen to really important facts about class struggles and stop countering foreign outrages with atrocities of your own.

The shibboleths built into our way of thinking about Russia, our military secrecy and our heritage of dissent have limited our freedoms and sold out our cultural options to doctrine of meaningless bullyismo. The Reagan Method is cold-blooded, overwhelming, unprovoked brutality, followed by normalizers who claim it couldn’t have really happened. Who were they? he leers, amused, while Bowie’s pre-recorded voice intones, “You lost to Peter Gabriel”, a thousand million times.

 

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