The attackers can only have great influence and support because it isn’t possible to hide how planned it was; the claim of discovery is suspicious, attended by prior scripting referrals like, “this is an old letter,” the presence of Fox Media and Warhol; even the juvenile storyline is recreational make believe by the assassins, they had girl volunteers from a Christian extremist group who were setting up the play of revenge-contamination by whisper campaign and the scowls of hardcore media.   All of which is obvious enough that even their attempt to hide is perceived.   

      The itinerant weasel, Fripp, engineered the ultimate orgasm for the Church of England.   Pretending to be citizen woebegon with a demonstrable skill and the rough sobriety of a good mechanic, learned of self-welfare and offering to assist with the candor of a maverick in business wanting nothing better than to see achievement and ability matched with humanity and schooling.   He had about him both the self-made man, and the wry winsome tone of a man who had seen through false advertisement, to allow simply permit me my demonstration of wares.

       Ah, such a splendid mask for the furious Tartuffe plotting an arcane church dagger by hidden moguls of Masonry, Masons!   Forbidden to evaluate, lest you spoil with your lack of fluent lisp. Another hustler belonging spiritually to British ignominy, he postured cynically at the mantelplace with the very high self-regard of those ace fraternity boys of ancient European money who got along nicely with the upstart Beatle lads on their first turn of celebrity.   He played like hell and was on first name basis with Donovan and Colin Powell, such spin could only be used to prove the Almighty.

       As luck would have it, America was spinning his web for him in the name of tolerance, they brought in Biblical Beelzebub’s like Gurdiev to crow their snicker over campus sex, what I call police ex’s, although to be sure there are derogatory names for call girls, it’s just that I’m not the one who called or knew what they were.  The darker your love the whiter your motive the Japanese banshees lisped.

       Tartuffe and his infantry, heels clicking Bowie, salute to chicanery, derfing with back blade, thrusts home.   True, I cudda unnerstood the DD of Diamond Dogs, or the images of and from Gail Burstyn on the cover of his records, Richard’s secret records, or Secords as they say in their movement.   All of that dignity, distinguishment and practical salesmanship of the down to earth was nothing but the usual holy water of God and of sex for child molesters of the Cross, or doublecross, as it were.

       They were cunning.  They could see where you lived, heh heh heh heh heh heh heh.