Senior Administration, the Elders in Washington, D.C., have reduced our society to a series of mini-dramas and mortal struggles over which Trump, McConnell and Biden appear to have no insight:  a grandfather struggling with himself over whether to give his last can of Lysol to his grand-daughter working in necessary industries, who accepts it in tears of gratitude - but Authorities actually do understand the situation, one they have long plotted under the rubes of what their allies call, “Casino Alchemy,” a society of martial law where dying to prove yourself worthy of recognition is the real call to order, not saving those who you love.  Putting those we love at risk of death is a necessary evil in the triumph of a Hitlerian death cult over the media of the USA.

      To prove this is jackshit easy, simply flip through the memory pages to the saga of Penis Gabriel’s murder mission at Pitt carried over into Seattle in the 21st century, a goblin of Sir Paul.   Penis used his agency for a number of slogans while promoting the gold digging carrion bird mentality of Klondike for his friend lurking with hawk wings and bugle beak over the former White House.    When Trump took the reins of decision many decades of gangster decrees were elevated on high to a position they already held from behind the curtains, more and more openly in their papi-killing scorn.

        Two sides are clear: which side really is insulting the dead on Memorial Day, those who claim that lives should be saved or those who claim that the dead had no intention of protecting our lives or our society and are the only ones deserving to be recognized because they were willing to kill?    If you ask Donald Trump, the answer is clear:  if they were liberals, who cares?

       At the time of Tupac’s death I was living with a girl who was mortified that the snickering assassins in Rusted Root had by lies converted my testimony of kidnapping and torture into grounds to have me chemically castrated by sniveling that a virgin, who I am still not allowed to identify by religion, had given me “a rep,” as Glabnicky’s sister puts it.   We did a little compensatory heavy petting and a Sean Lennon mesmer delivered the junk mail, “Fingerhut,” which in Penis Gabriel lingo translates to finger hoot.  Who would their bedlam monitors stick it into to secure compense?

      Pittsburgh and Seattle never believed in fair play, I don’t care, I don’t care, they seethed at testimony of crime, they were crocodile fingers after the title, knocking out white boys for the controllers on high who might have been too persuasive like RFK.   They leered, “if you wash I’ll be offended,” while promoting the AIDS attackers on 911 for Oil City.    Devoid of humanity they pointed to Dealey Plaza as Kennedy’s own fault for violating the first law, that of self-preservation.  The liberals will think twice as they wash away their wishful thinking about immigrant leniency while stalked by reminders of plague on those who think they’re better than us.

      Pitt wins again, it’s the nature of reality.