The rich man stands in front of me,

The poor man behind my back.

They believe they can control the game,

But the juggler holds another pack.

~Penis Gabriel and Co.

       How perfect a quote for exposing the Axis in all its eccentricities operating from UW.   Yojimbo is the functional property of the Axis in these times. Omoja (imagine) holding persuasion over the poor, even a few of the super-rich, while dangling them as puppets to your manufacture of misperception, all while catering to their false beliefs with assurance that they are the true wise owls.  It’s never a good thing to read between the lines when being manipulated and deceived by professionals. To see the grip the attackers hold over the enthralled you just have to remember what it was like to be an adolescent finding yourself. If somehow you can manage to keep Seattle intellectuals from spitting on the children consider it a good day.

       The Axis invention of poetic justice was a way that Hollywood catered to the Black Power Movement’s childishness.  Black devils never have a kind word for the white. They need our help, that’s perfectly obvious. Tupac was on the wrong side of ideological politics from what I can see and Sundiata was my friend.  He was Injun brave which has its admirers. The same ripper hatter faction shot them both. The truth is what I reported to police, two packs of cigarettes were placed in my mailbox by the persons who poisoned me in the stomach. Then, after Tupac as shot, two packs with a crumple of gunsmoke. How that translated in the heads of Black Lives Matters to kill Alina Sheykhet can only be the International Axis combein. Whoever it was did it to drag me into it because they knew that Tupac's culture was siding with the way the KKK tortured me in childhood. It probably was the Spirit Foundation, so they could blame my spirit. That's the only thing that makes sense. The situation isn’t rational. Reagan had all sorts of people lined up to gangbang on me. Why Blacks would side with the KKK against Kennedy kids is out there.

Blacks were freed by the horrors of the war between the states, abolitionists lost their lives defending the Underground Railroad, millions of white people died defending the NAACP from Adolf Hitler, and I have seen ego-obsessive sharks pick on weaker Blacks, smacking their rival’s notebooks for playing too white by going to school, been personally tortured by the KKK and yet snapped out at as someone they don’t owe nothing, and who isn’t special, even after I sat through all sorts of classes I didn’t have to, being sacrificed to their hatred by a plan from Rosa Clemente and Donald Trump.  Blacks need our help but they never tire of punishing glasnost, information, news reporting and police society labor by guttersnipes, invasion of privacy, weird abuses and race profiling. What else would you call it but race profiling to kill an innocent white girl to punish attempts to get the police after Tupac’s killers? The gyrations to high heavens in blood oath and death vow are just mercenaries slapping five at the barbershop of someone else’s tears.   

       I feel sorry for how sad it is, but who do the NAACP think they are in covering for the AIDS attack by a smokescreen of race rage?  The South Africans made a joke about it in the book Moxyland. As nice as it is to know the facts about sociology and have a head for the ethnicity of people’s dignities, as vital as it is to understand the impact of gunboats on the trafficking situation south of the border, down in Oliver Stone reality, the legal system in America isn’t a hint, it’s an order of business that requires all of us to be devoted to fair play.  Tupac didn’t understand that sabotage isn’t a civil right, but that didn’t stop me from going after his killers as a friend. What happened to him is a bad thing, and heart-wrenching for those who leaned on him for their morale.

      Black-on-Black crime is frequently answered by the self-preservation behind the refracting question, why don’t you do it to your real enemies, the white?  This alternative injustice model is promoted on the streets instead of common cause between members of society with the same goal, to keep the peace. Peace comes without victory in race wars.  It just means lucking out a given day, but that doesn’t exonerate us from responsibility to name the mania in our midst. The Supreme Idea that a Corporation is One Person was a ridiculous crime hatched by men like John Rawls to welcome the Walrus of AIDS.  Anyone who believes it is true has never been pitted against a ravenous, anonymous Corporation who is targeting them ruthlessly while keeping the fact hidden and lying to their face, ie. Penis Starkey.

       Poetic Justice always demands lip service, even as they violate International Law by deadly poison crime.  UW provides them intellectual services, a quorum that only deserves to be called Syphiliticism. Some of the Vietnamese ultra-right wing may be deadly haters and inscriptions implied by Seattle’s Little Saigon’s subliminal side, chilling under the Iron Umbrella of Trump.  In other words, Pho Bac as part of a suggestion committee is to be taken under advice, Lucky N Dong, VW Viet Wah, the volks beetle of babyland laundry, under the Iron Umbrella of Odwalla. Odwalla is a corporate Axis theme park funhouse sideshow implying Oswald and Walla Walla, the repetition of a mockingbird that is the central idea of New York’s Correction Society scriptwriters behind the Burstyn scroll,and of course the “knowledge” that little Jimma overdosed.   While calling these clear observations paranoid schizophrenia the lackluster bureaucrats, white hegemons and their black-o-sycophants poisoned an old deaf man they tortured and made deaf, gave erectile dysfunction and diabetes in the mouth. This isn’t to badmouth the truth about International District, those are beautiful people.

        Rosa Clemente only loves haters.  She gladly pitched her tent with Trump for the Axis when it came to running fox operations for Frank Herbert’s idea of sacrificial white people and covering for the AIDS attack in the name of Will Zell, Matt Marcus and Abira Ali.   Black people don’t see any sort of common cause dealing with issues like MK-Ultra. That Tupac’s right wing hate fantasies derived directly as support for Mein Kampf Ultra-Secret is answered by consumerist rhapsodies announcing their elite racket as a nomenklatura.  Children finding themselves get all keyed up. They’d rather attack an impacted neuroplasm sexually and say we don’t owe you nothing. Matt Marcus was knee deep in student loans, that makes him the good kind, that means he gits to says no about no Jimmuh queebait. The NAACP ain’t gonna look into that shit, man.  They puff they old man’s heads and go, we will show thems young’n’s how to start a fire riot barbecue.

         Yojimbo is advertised in a Calvert and Eno song called, The Gremblin, which is the jinx of poetic justice.   It describes mayhem and murder whenever someone flies in the face of the British plan of war.   This is the true meaning of most of the widely believed feudal murders, including the race homicides which darken our days and give us the new martyr messiahs of our wasteland notebooks, they are acts ordained from a poetic license to kill, not tit-for-tat, but rather double homicides.   It is a Walrus Corporation who know how to satisfy the childish yearning summoned up by media grievance authority. Who can forget the exchange of Lucille Ball for Abby Hoffman when it danced over Reagan’s radar room? Not the Shamans who lewd cruelly demanding the hasty. The way that a maniac gashed a California black girl’s throat not long after an anonymous death row slave control over women murdered Alina Sheykhet in Pittsburgh, or the white man who shot up a Texas Church after signals were sent through my facebook that seemed or were made to seem from an African Black minister’s franchise on the make for SONY? Armchair realists pimp their race exchange gangland ideas but it still looks to me like double homicide from the occult above. Spike ole Lee is in the buggy with Donald Trump.

Why wouldn’t the Ubermensch of the Hollywood Illuminati play Yojimbo to tear America’s heart out? Because they love us? You believe them?

         Obama is absolutely lewd with the mawkish treason of the Bush Family towards the Kennedys.   While he was gyrating that I was breaking the school rules, just enough as was necessary to prove that AIDS was an attack, he was pimping me to humiliate, a man playing God in a case of Job, a Roman authorizing more abuse of Simplicimus the humiliated whose deaf best friend was raped to punish refusal to rape for the Neva Corporation fantasy craze, all eyed by mysterians versed all-knowingly from Burma concerning Lao Tzu’s Superior Man.  The text is pure licentious hatred from the Federal Taliban who promoted the gloating and evil Yoko Ono.

       Obama came to power with a crisis in Detroit.  He was no Greta Thunberg. He had a chance to be.  He could have held a sit-down strike saying, “don’t expect me to mimic Bush.  I am a proud Black man who sees Martin Luther King as a true American, not a George Lucas light sabre.  There is going to be an accounting regarding our limited Climate resources. The account on ecocide is hereby frozen.  No, I will not bail out Detroit. The country has to change. We need more mass transit.” Instead, we continued the black-out in the war on Muslims and ended up with rivers of blood in Syria and Donald J. Trump, clowniac, in The White House.

       The wily gyrationists of the Bush Family always derided my disability, my sad state as a lover of song who was pushed by deafness into slave work as a poet in the apocalypse of our sad hour.    Seattle is a haven for the hostility of the servants in the Bush franchise, deluded adolescents enthralled by good old CIA Tupac and Spike ole Lee. In Seattle, deafness is proof of jealousy. Eye contact is a sign of dereliction in the spiritual true way of correct connectivity.  Crook your Gayersnipe finger, you prominent old Hitler hag and say hehn, just hehn.