The New Pittsburgh Courier, an old Black affairs newspaper, in the 80’s printed a letter accusing the whites, The Whites! Of scamming Black advancement in industry with tall tales of ecology.   He said that the environmental movement was created to cheat Blacks of their due in labor and industry. He didn’t extend the perception to point out that the Green Party were behind the AIDS attack.   Black violence has underwritten the auto-industry, the war in Vietnam, and the dread that car owners feel in being asked to switch to public transit. Anyone in the public domain can be spotted and singled out easily by organized criminals who hire Black dacoits, notoriously the gang from Hollywood  behind the attack. Ringo Starr and Clint Eastwood have been on the move from the day that Fox gave Ming Na Wen the signal to tell Yoko Ono and Oliver Stone that their film, “Reagan Didn’t Know,” had the green light for mail theft and screen rights. They didn’t tell their fiction as a fiction, they brutally tortured me and lied about it, in a crank operation that publicizes their murder of the Kennedys to derive hero worship from women in awe.

         Clint of course, and Charles Bronson, both had macho, redneck, fascist namesakes in Dealey Plaza.  Clint likes to crawl up into your mind and get you to think: I refuse to believe it was him. As an ugly laugh, they positioned Robert Redford, a major theatrical figure involved with Cliff Robertson’s brownshirt thrill kill unit behind Day of the Condor and revenge for Hitler over Hiroshima, a widely represented conjob by Hollywood set up to counterfeit intelligence as a destructive entertainment cartel who got rid of public information and right to know laws.   That they are murdering innocent people had become a sport and a play station. The more you report it, the more fiendishly the F.B.I. pump new blood into defense of the attackers, lie after cowardly lie. Stone and Ono’s film, “Reagan Didn’t Know,” has consumed decades refusing to report the atrocity while creating tokens of ripper murderers who gladly make it too dangerous for society to switch to mass transit by organizing bully conspiracies on buses.

        Tive used to pop his cheek with his finger and say whoopie ding, and there is considerable evidence that Whoopie Goldberg is among the war criminals.   The funny thing about the Ark of Obama that has been shown in Seattle cement to have been UW’s monstrous plan in the deal with Nelson Mandela, is that we are supposed to believe that Blacks are too dumb to have come up with something that slimey and cunning, simply because they refuse to understand.  They milked the cow of ancient grudge to cover for it. The murderers are endlessly psychopathic. They implanted a neurological talking device into a traumatized victim of torture and used brutal enculturation trying to get it to say the parrot words they needed to announce their unprovoked hostilities.  All while engaging in mean-spirited subordination to a plan created by a secret, illegal cult. Meanwhile, men like Dr. Proctor, mild-mannered historian for a quaint Metropolitan newspaper, fight a never ending battle of promotion for Adolf Hitler, with swastikas of Leni Reifenstahl for proof of an ancient African symbol, emerging from the telephone booth as Super-Panther! Able to create Hollywood armies at the push of a computer button to generate spite, mayhem and ruthlessness.

          The KKK and Black Panthers constructed the persona of Jimmy Creary, never allowed by Brett Leonard and Warhol to get away from kidnapping and invasion by the assassins, to construct a persona for the purposes of refraction onto a stand-in, surrounded by Team Hollywood masquerading as “friends”.  Queerbait wanted to get along with his peers in mutual concern for the Earth and to make sure that the powers of education and learning reached the people of Africa as part of American values and humanitarian enterprise for our diplomacy as a lead export.  I noted that Black men with no reason to intervene saved me, at risk to themselves, as a child from terrible unprovoked beatings by the KKK while other Black people signed aboard with white bigots who promoted terrorist views about me. It had to do with exploitation. It was as though to say, ya we saved you, but we didn’t know there was money on it! With nothing to make them think about it, Black people were honest and dependable, offered a chance to profit from crime, they would sign on with their own enemies.  It was part of the fascist play station to dehumanize the school with incitement this way, a British spectacular. Just let us beat you and poison you, they licky chops, and then give us the dough and we’re square.

         The murderers are constantly threatening me with money.   They have it set up to rape, torture and ripper anyone who loves me if attempts are made to stop them from terror crime towards a victim of mutilation voodoo practices in the attack. You don’t like dat, they cluck, well-luh, there’s money in it for someone, we hear.  Robert Fripp, their ringleader, was openly praised by Aum Shinrikyo Cult in Japan after their nerve gas attack on a Tokyo subway as an inspiration to Aum Cult, for very good reason. His Gurdjieff crowd sold the attack in exactly the manner of Jim Jones and provided very significant suicide bombers who immolated themselves as religious martyrs, while Lennon pulled his double Houdini.

         After the murders at the Pittsburgh synagogue where people I have known my whole life died, Judge Wecht harangued us that young Jews needed to be scolded as children to make sure they knew the holocaust is real.   This same Pittsburgh gang featured MisterRogers, who loved to surround himself with depraved and horrid criminals, yet who pursed his lips to say softly to children, don’t ever say anything to offend your mothers.   These gangsters, Wecht and Rogers, behind such gruesome ideas as the Ark of Salk Labs, the attack as Holy War, impinged so much maniacal horror on my childhood mind, gassing me in a place called Kings Estate, subjecting me to the Clinton village of inhuman trafficking, and other genius King Crimson forms of heaviosity, that I have never fit in anywhere, my thought processes are scary and far too deep, I have lived battlefield-scarred for life, a public toy for serial killers in American and British politics and the only person willing to present material like that below concerning the AIDS attack.  What gives? This is a warning? Of what? What will happen if Latin Americans don’t get to make the next big movie?

          Brett Brett enthusiastic, not saying you, Hoffa, wants soundtrack to Ono’s horror movies, films of child pornography and later life abortion, cell phone wailings of real life ripper murder, hearts found wrapped up in newspaper, because, the shamans of Lennon feel cheated of satisfy.   All to get the offended and loyal overClint’s hurdle of being killed in the name of their own refusal to care about public safety. We are set on auto-pilot to forget the FEMA of Pentagon Disney’s attorney brochure from Reagan, Agent Unrue, Kasper and Hinckley reading, “There’s no such thing as objective reality only what the jury believes,” a brochure from a neighbor of MisterRogers and WQED.  Told of the death tattoo on the thigh of the Warhol attack prostitute hired by John Stockwell and the Society for Human Ecology on Mt. Desert Island for the devil-testing war game of Two Virgins pussyball, the birth mother, No. More (N. Moore) crowed, “Surely you don’t think she did that for your sake!”

        The FBI are pieces of shit.  They didn’t hafta steal Gail Burstyn’s letters from me on the technicality of having being their writers, or should I say, heh, heh, heh, their Ritters!