One of the hardest lessons to learn about Modern Society, and its leadership from places like Scotland Yard, is that even though fascists can out think you does not therefore mean that they can be reasoned with. In a bitter, informative tome about the third reich Mike Burleigh recounts a reasoning, calm young girl in a sanitarium writing home as she waited for what she knew was euthanasia. If Burleigh knew about Burstyn this would bring a shudder for exploitation. A similar shudder happens when you see a newsreel of a particularly fine, intelligent jeopardized Syrian girl child screaming for reason and ethics, or the scrap from the heaven and hell odysseys “someone give them flutes!” or is jimma qwee trying to play victim to avoid her pointing finger?
Biden wants us to come together and form a more perfect union, so my goal is to recognize in this piece the contribution made to his agenda by the Manson Family. Warholl specializes in the breakage wrought by toxic minds impinging on child hostage trauma so dear to them that they’ve mapped out the psychic landscape. I’m not sure how many others from the generation of Helter and Skelter had the bad dream of the Beatles coming to destroy the earth, but mysticism, music, abortion and LSD make for strange transcendal Krishna consciousness.
It in this danse macabre we find Code Red School and the mayhem of ripper Seattle.
I return to Burleigh’s doomed ward of the state. Over the covid lockdown I’ve had my first experiences of paradoxical breathing, been exposed to new toxins, had already been made medically dependent to simplify surveillance and poisoned in the mouth. Nevertheless, it does seem to me that there is a credo at work in the Tolkien adage, “they would wish they dared.” Robert Anton Wilson is ready to give chase to those who wish they dared. Further, Trump is ready with Syrian girls of his own.
The nature of reality and the nature of man cause friction and tension but soothsay holds sway and none dare admit that reason is imperfect a tool against fascism mischief. Burma, Hollywood insists, is a Rambo-raping sex swamp where the idyllic of Shifty, Daw Aung San holds her head above the foray, nearly singsong, like the twee days of Genesis before they went butch.
The murder of Saoirse Kennedy and that of Shannon Harps are a repudiation of Mayor Peduto’s claim to the flag of black and gold. It a Draft Council decisio to abduct the minds and hearts of the Ringo faithful to service for the Kennedy assassins, amen, all men, unite. Inslee is Putin’s Lee. General Lee of the Green. By sharing this we arrive straightwith to Manson. The bridge is race. Peace, say the Code Red street scholars, just means those who can’t fight very good. Knowledge, to a small extent, can answer that, because the thinking derives from the Axis more than democratic ideals. Cultural understanding admits engagement of different views, at least the search for comity between societies does.
The repudiation of Peduto takes the usual form of advocacy for murderers on high in NAAMBLA by Seattle. Magna Cum Thos. hums that contempt for the Czarina’s son secured the revolution. Unlike the Germans in Czechoslavakia in Faucher Pittsburgh knew what they had in their prison. The idea of American exceptionalism has some negotiable aspects but Pittsburgh has made forfeiture of protecting children from horror crimes. When we come to details like Kraynick of Reizenstein running from Ken Ferri and then not reporting my absence when Ferri took me hostage, we also arrive at the provincial norm. In Gail Burstyn and Sharon Samuels we find holocaust survivors, just like Roman Polanski, making films. At the helm of this mayhem is Cyril Wecht.
When the twee of Genesis went butch, renaissance man Robert Fripp announced all but that the sexual antenna of Elton was a majestic plug into the will of Allah and the American South. Trannies with machine guns came a’runnin’ for Biden. They cut off my ability to hear or make love as an act of jurisdiction, purification and ascendancy. It was the scream of loss in Leon Uris’ Trinity conjoined to Rambo’s first blood and bore the names David Lucarelli, Chow Yun Fat and Mel Gibson. Don Kahler (don’t call her) Don Timmerman (don’t I’m her man)
At the pinched nerves of Sanetta Katz T. Simon spoke up with the Dalai Lama for the myriad of hallucination in a nuclear world governed by the Cyclops. Bush said, count to three, back to normal.