It was very typical of Moonunit Zappa and her gang to murder Saoirse Kennedy and then get bikers in Jericho Project to yap it was because they were victimized. Holy Reagan, Reagan the Hated, the loved and feared, gluecifer wise owl Yoko Ono protecting and all kinds of other Clint Eastwood shit.

Readers as astute as JFK would have been about to grasp the principle of the same third team hitting around at symbols of the races to advance themselves as peacemakers while keeping everybody else at odds and confused. It’s even an art called Yojimbo. The Democrats who absolved Trumpytune twice know I believe the Ark was bipartisan and mongered in Congress already before the second thinning.  While they discuss the perks of making it through the Bohemian Grove cleanse, I would like to register a dissenting view that the process was a crime.  The rotary club tipped me off that I was earmarked as a fence to be removed after being tortured and sold as a curiosity, taunting me with a spiteful toast of complicity on the grounds that I value my art.  The government moved me to a corner where Communism is legally represented in a street sign while putting me on J street, to showcase their view that communism is the devil’s light and that it is a contagion.  What they have done by forcing me to live the way North Koreans are often described, in a confusion of poverty legalities, always a dime short and an inch away from criminalization is the snapshot of the target object in a picking off from the elite.  

       I have seen American Federal claim they are testing the character of a man they molested as a child to validate their own forgery of my name on mass murder and then to appoint themselves a right to officiate over the proceeds of their slave labor curiosity shop.  That is a point of departure for this sociology of the new America.

        Tabloids were in on the conspiracy in Dallas.  Media was recruited, along with America’s overall imagination, in totality.   Just as I was given the book King of the Golden River by John Ruskin when born at the Ruskin at Pitt, so too was there a language idiom when they uploaded Dan Rather and told Americans what government they’d rather have and what they all would rather believe about what was going on.  This provided the parallax of Trumpytune denial.

          Two of the men in on this made clear why Kennedy was Drafted to be executed, the partners from the days of Inge Fleming in Berlin, Dulles and King Edward, led to a partnership between Dulles and John Lennon.  When Lennon taunted the victims, “they blew his mind out in a car,” and Dulles intoned, “don’t you ever believe the American people read,” they set up the final insult, TIME Magazine equating JFK and Reagan for hawkishness, just as though Kennedy had laid a wreath at Bitberg-Belsen.

        Across the street from the man’s house who referred to me everytime he spoke to as Gizmo was the boy who failed to defend me when I was robbed and then blamed me when he was robbed by the same boy, Ronald Zsinski.   I see in this a fable of war, told by a menacing Administration playing drama.  Petty cash continues to amuse the crumbs struggle meted out for the destitute and hungry by Arms Race moguls.

        Biden has long invested in Pennsylvania octane.  They put me through a gas chamber that may yet kill me, mortal fumes, and poison me still with things that are awful.  Despite this crime and the society it keeps, they live by their puns.  Pastor K. had a fluezy cat he called Repa, for the word game of rape entanglement by which the repo men came to disgrace the queerbait for Tim Kaine’s favorite, HitlerReagan.    The murderers, including Ramsey Clark, who jump down hold pee pee with Jericho Project in the heist with Shulman gave a notorious drug trafficker permission to secretly tape me with a Manson chick from Death Camp 7 spotting the last house on the left.   The result was Pennsylvania through and through.

        I happened to be present one sorry day when a horse’s ass was laughing at Karel Douwes, “his lobotomy makes him talk like a Bolshevik.””  I was indignant and asked his daughter later who that man was.  He was the doctor that did it, to save him from an optic nerve tumor.

        Ah, so.