Due JFK having said at American University, “We all breathe the same air and cherish our childrens’ futures,” it is natural to associate his Liberal leadership and the loss of this direction with the current Climate crisis, but I think the meaning of JFK’s association with Greta Thunberg’s voice and emergence is much, much more.  In climate studies a considerable question arises regarding Climate sensitivity, meaning how much of the water vapor and CO2 going into the atmosphere will charge up the earth with permanent, civilization-damaging heat?  The issue I propose to raise in this minute is about sensitivity, primarily evidence-sensitivity, and how it has been drilled out of our culture, forging this double tragedy of leadership loss and planetary destruction.  Unavoidably, I will have to address the persona, or profile, that the character assassins impinged.  Sensation and sensitivity are not necessarily the same thing, but there is no doubt that deafness lends vulgarity to the attitude that believes only in musicality, so that sweetness to the earlobe announces its agency as truth and disagreement as truth crossed by an offensive intention.  To unravel this ellipse, return to the beginning, the issue of JFK.

      JFK’s situational finale, a Hollywood production, asked for half a century that the common American abandon the use of their senses and place trust in crowd manipulation.  It was Orwell being delivered by CBS and Dan Rather.  Evidentiary insensitivity became a form of mental health doctrine.  Anyone deemed sensitive to the evidence was cross examined as a spy from the shadow world of severe mental illness.  We are arrived at through the Gestapo tactics of British Royal Musicians, McCartney ad nauseum, with the emotional intelligence that the queerbait doesn’t give the listener time to think, that it bangs on, hogs the airwaves and so on.  The real incidence at work is asking sensitivity to evidence, which respect for the mind is supposed to be received as an insult.  Coupled to this persona is the onerous diatribe that the queerbait was given enough clues.

        The reasoning is clear, clues are forbidden, you were given enough of them to be blamed, don’t blame anyone but yourself and you will be punished if you snitch.  This last pitch, punished for snitching, is the accusation why didn’t you tell?  Coward?  To be realistic about what was done, I was told that my own value was insignificant, that the movement asked people to endure, we shall overcome, and believed that I was hated for being smart and cool looking, well loved by my elders who were gentile and educated.  I thought I was the only victim.  Given the shocking brutality of the murderers who kidnapped me, what good would it do to endanger my father and mother, who would be helpless all the same?  Just move, seemed the answer, move to another part of town.

        Evidentiary sensitivity however is a very thorny problem for Police society about this one.  If we move from the modus operandi, which is to remove and bar evidence-sensitivity, and then envelope the crimes in dirty dealings that require evidence sensitivity, we see the Police situation is culpable.  C.O.P. means Community Oriented Police, and yet the leadership councils at work in recent Administration disclosed that their professed support for Police has nothing to do with COPs and everything to do with Support for Weapons, rendering the blessing conferred on Authority as such meaningless, except to those who enjoy Royalty, Gestapo and unbalanced ideas circulating and being repeated far and wide.  A child is scorned for facing what Serpico did, if you tell, you’re dead.  Snitching was construed as washing your hands, and the offense punishable by contagions most foul.  No, I do not exaggerate, it was clear, during AIDS, even by mouth poison, leading up to Covid 19.

          For example, take the thesis supported by a direction of the encryption that Climate Change was planned.  You can’t mean that, said Martha Gellhorn when faced with Mt. Desert Island and the related research.  Todd Clark appeared once at the house of child molesting Donald Ostro (notice that Ostro, a devil type, closely resembles the name OTZRO, who make the Frippy style prayer bench of Gurdiev kluk) and TC wrote, “cameo imprisons disaster”. Given that he made this cameo and that the papers of Burstyn portended disaster, why is there so much hatred and scorn for the scientifically supported testimony of being taken and imprisoned by kidnappers?  Why did Riback, Marcus and LAM catastrophically smear this affidavit as “bullwork?”  Clark did this at a time when Rodd, an important Family Crest in Carbon Science observed my being all but assassinated by near lethal blindside attacks.  Clark is the author of the apocalyptic song, “Flame Over Africa,” with many refrains, spouted in the 70’s reflective of things in the news today.

          There is further ruin to behold in the Police inaptitude attending this misadventure.  Supposedly, I should have reported clues I didn’t understand to those who scorn me for being cowardly in having accepted torture and disabling injury for being an insignificant person.  Not wanting to for reasons of seeing others hurt is no excuse.  So, what happens when I do report crime?  My father is murdered, my best friend is raped, Saoirse is raped and murdered.  All this is said to be poetic justice, a form of musical karma.   They used the name Donohue on my father’s obituary to spell out their whodunit.   The use of names as signifiers of the organized nature of the crime hardly ends there.  Greg Karl writes, “the listener is led through a bewildering myriad of surface details to arrive at the fundamental themes.”  Hardly bewildering, in other words, once you know the secret.  The architects of Hollywood’s theosophical extermination program have rich detail in their souffle.

          I don’t admire them the way the F.B.I apparently do.  Gail is an arcane origin for Griffin, which is a variation of Griffith.  D.W. Griffith was a master of Hollywood fascism, using the word Heil on his advertisement for the film he made glamorizing the rise of the KKK and introducing burning crosses to American society while his assistance director went on to make Reagan’s wartime film with Errol Flynn, a Nazi spy.  Gail is like gale, hurricane force, a wind speed of 74 mph, the year she scripted their plan, or 119 kph, the 119 signifier of their Trojan offer.  Cecil B. DeMille, a contemporary and confederate of Griffith was put in charge of Radio Free Europe by Kennedy’s known assassin Allen Dulles who also got to author the Warren Report for the Beatles, Carousel Club and other laughs, like the Carousel lass Swimmer, which Bush was when they pulled him from the water, blaming my father Ry, who was in the radio room, Swimmer made the ribald carrot tape for Riback.

          The Varner Brothers, which is like VW Beetle, had an orange haired friend one called, “Tang.”  Varner was the Southern jock type, intellectually inclined, who tended towards varsity and loved talking mercenary jive.  Survivalism occupied the other Varner, the only man ever to point a loaded rifle at me, other than S.W.A.T. when they came for a neighbor.  Environmental destruction is a manner of adapting our society towards mercenary survivalism.  De De Allen appears in Serpico, like De De does in the Burstyn Script about child sex.  Allen is like Woody, everything you wanted to know about voice over semiotics and Noah Virus, if you will pardon multiple allusions to things that really go on in his films.  Burstyn noted Midori Goto in the script while humming about status symbols, like my father being from Bush’s ship.  One can, with a stretch of the imagination, see Hillary in both Hill Rom and Hilfiger.  Hey Rom, said Gandhi when shot.  Hill A (assassinate) R Y (you) OM over Midori.  He’ll figure out the clues.

         Just as the ripper hatter Penis J. Sinfield croaked about all this by saying his evergreens will grow despite all the flowers they trample on, another English Arthur (hahahah) C. Clarke wrote, “sometimes dispassionately they had to weed,” which is apparently what they meant by calling me insignificant and correlating De De to Dr. King’s demise in their tong revelation.  Johnny you hardly knew her, myuh.