Obviously the problem is that the liability faced by Seattle if they admit they are wrong rules out recalling their ripper drones.   A brain-deafened traumacose child never had any chance against a billionaire quorum of Harvard positioned felons watching every utterance with the greatest obsession.   So they switched allegiance in WW2 for an Axis revenge plan.  There’s always more to it because they suck.  What their partner John Shulman was doing in Pittsburgh was “private,” too, and his arrest is no doubt proximate to the desperate hatred that Seattle call a building “momentum.”

         Again, the union has no scruples and are not playing for any other principle than might makes right which they load with the hypocrisy of their dialectical war machine.  Mongering among the savvy that street scholarship, or insight into mob incitement and crowd behavior, is “knowledge” they have the municipality of Pittsburgh playing for cover in mob numbers.  This is the undertow of the oligarchy’s scary moves.  Rock musicians’ double agency can afford professionals and still get a lot of volunteers.

         The attackers targeted the Kennedy-Goldwater era of compassionate conservatism for its well-earned exceptionalism like the taking of Pelham123, presided over by Art Official Intelligence in a hidden quorum.   I know some of their names.  We all know their program.  I see poor Greta as another planned test-tube baby.

         The new masters order a Speakeasy reasoning figuring they can’t be stopped but that reasonableness has its place.  Penetrating into the hyper brings down the shrinks but they taunt the rabble unit all the same.   Attempts to defend yourself can backfire.  I think of my nephew’s childhood arrest on LSD possession, trying to escape he swallowed them and ended up screaming at the bannister about the plight of Native Americans as they took him to a padded cell for therapy.  

         The attackers remember represent the victims and are sensitive to off-color remarks.  Calling them licky chops and syphilitic, long before covid, let to a septic wound on my lip, taunts spelled, “Tulip,” which healed and then came back with a vengeance.  Ah, the metaphors of bio-terror.

          I don't really believe in safe sex, at best it's emotionally dangerous but it was drummed into our heads sex can be made safe and then divine punishment emerged from left field; that's challenging.   Trump and Biden bring the same police strategy to the table enforcing Obama’s whim in the first atrocity.  By refusing to divulge that a core group of Pittsburgh intellectuals banged the illusion machine’s war drum and evading the admissibility of how they loosened my tongue about what they were implying in their impinged pornographic voice overs, they allow for a lewd storyline from Britain about an experimental empathy therapy that was greatly admired by Aum Cult who named Fripp in Murakami’s interview.  Dialectical play the double-edged card of disgrace.

       Carnegie Mellon is notoriously hard to read and they like unspoken-ness.   I sat with Riri Nakasone back in the 80’s when our convo for some reason turned to the war and she said evenly, those days you were sized up for health or told you to gas chamber.   The crossroads worked very well for what they called a special therapy operation.   Gabriel decree that uncertainty was mandatory which helped, too since you can’t resist without certainty.  Gabriel also gave some indications of what else they now can do.

         The designers of the gears of this radical heapery are conservatives from Carnegie Mellon.   Tacticians, too.   Leslie Katz, the starlet of the virgin principle used to go into woods screaming fanatically at the top of her lungs with friends from the LRY unitarian youth, “Gonna rape kill pillage and burn gonna rape kill pillage burn and eat babies!”  They never could get me to do it.  It was like Andrew trying to get me to throw a rock at the Hebrew Institute bus so they could be sure that they hated me.  Nice blond boy said Kirshner.

         Katz was a friend of Martin Andelman, of Wells Fargo, as well as Steve Langer of Princeton and Tami Simon of Swarthmore, pictured in the web with the Dalai Lama, she touted herself as a lesbian for magical religion.   After my lesbian affair with Katz which got me castrated by Seattle she came onto me as an acquiline nosed androgyne on a trip with the LRY to Princeton.   Katz was also in a poetry group called Jabberwocky with Shulman and Valedictorian of Ellis School whose employee was arrested with Shulman.  Runcos had employment there, best friends of Wattenmaker who poisoned me with a nerve agent.  Andelman once upset my mother by spraypainting on my bedroom wall, “reality is for people who can’t handle drugs.”

         About the time Gabriel burgled his own letters, a bungled claim since So had already come out, I was accosted by two tall black men, one … way … tall, the shorter of whom hollered at me, “Look down!”  Gabriel augmented the acoustics with his hum intonement about todays radicals being smaller with less visibility, one might almost Omoja … micro.   Gabriel is also the one who mumbled some stuff about digesting every word the experts say, which doesn’t mean the WHO as in World Health Organization but British pushers at Woodstock.  His mind keeps up with them.  Notice how Lister was evoked as a name in the Swami Nostra and used, ding-dong as his calling card, as in Avon calling.  Lister mouff.

          Born 6 months from Hitler, given 1984 as the first four digits of my Soc. Sec. card, and my father probably owing his life to the atomics small wonder MisterRogers noted me with fear as he accepted my existence in a convo with mother outside the Mason Lodge then ran from us as from Rosemary’s baby.

          WQED and Cyril Wecht are fixtures in this crowd.   Mother remarried at the Crossroads church where MisterRogers attended.  The gang who kidnapped and tortured me did hedges there.   We moved back as though for safety after the horrible crimes; a holocaust survivor community where Leonard Nimoy augured the endless dilemma promoting I am not Spock on one of his many visits.

           The Crossroads church or 74A bus stop mentioned in the letters where Leslie Katz would wait, WQED and the Wecht mansion are what Riback probably meant by his slogan for play:  Setting for a Tragedy.    The 74A stop is where the huge support base of Shulman customers orchestrated by Eirene lunged in a candlelight after the Tree of Life tragedy.   It is where Angela of National Health and Nutrition where a Reagan type accused me of an unsafe yogurt machine and who showed up at Dalai Lama in Seattle introduced me to the girl who took me to the nearby stage set of Pastor Kronenbitter’s bank house community.   Schecter owns that house now, a partner of Caplan, another friend of Katz who knew Shulman’s employee and lover Urmanyhazi and possibly Lanae, a passion of Fuss (upon whom be peace).

           Andelman introduced me to Kirshner, a neighbor of WQED and Gordon, the latter in a parked car at E/W Circuit Road where the Wecht mansion is and Katz held her graduation party.  When Caplan and Edelstein are suspected of orchestrating my arrest on armed robbery charges (I was with Meieren who had a gun pulled on him in my presence nearby) Gordon mocked me as a model citizen with a double edge tone he liked to use in improvs like What’s the Charge?  For some time I called the way Andelman’s gang hexed the neuroplasm with XXX slurs, “the mysterious Chinese Gordon,” not knowing there was such a person or why S. Langer was so enamored of Justin Chang but I wouldn’t have been sure that Milnes and Ostro both having the record with the Hive Queen on it proved they were in cahoots, despite both knowing Braunstein had Andrea Swimmer not shown up with Carbonell.

          In her bid for social dominance Wen’s faction have admitted authoring the script at least in as much as withholding it for storytelling and profit.