"Let's not and say we did." Ry Crary ~ a man who sailed to sea.

        My name is James MacRyland Crary.  I am deaf, 60 years old, single, no car and have never lived above the poverty line, the very picture of poor papa with no children.  My grandfather Ward Moore, married to Marie Donaldson 66 years retired from the St. Louis Post Dispatch. Distinguished Citizens of Poplar Bluff, MO by vote of City Council, I idolized them. I would have made a splendid husband had I not been attacked by Warhol/Mancine as a little boy.  My father, a divorcer, Lieutenant in the WW2 Navy, Philosopher of Education of world importance, taught me about the war and published a number of heritage books on our public schools about which he was a distinguished, Kennedy era liberal romantic.  You cannot trust your local newspaper and I am writing to explain whys.  The subtext of the AIDS and Covid-19 global military missions is that nature went awry, human overpopulated and for the good of the hope of future civilization and stability all this big weird had to be done, but that is not true.  I am not a climate change denier.  I mean that the narrative regarding what we are arriving at is as false as the ulterior claim that the good of the world is their purpose.  Instead of believing that silence is golden and ignorance is bliss, protect your children by reading this testimony.  If it interests you enough attend my blog storychecksout.org.  There is too much involved to cover it all in a brief about the terrible nightmare ahead if we don’t arrest our false premise that this big weird was a necessary evil about which we are wise to keep silent.

        The criminals are picture perfect for the game they have created in which they have positioned through Trump’s friendship with Warhol bloodthirsty Yoko Ono to threaten us with a nuclear bomb while announcing her agency as knowledgeable missionary of constructive social change.  The key steps towards this threat were twofold:  professing indignation at AIDS and the 911 attack by the killers themselves in the name of their own victims, the grimmest of the twists of Lennon commissioned with the help of Seattle betrayers so far.  We are not removed from this situation, it is deepening with gloom and she omojas us with grave and deadly satisfaction her hostage.  She has grossly profited from her kidnapping and human trafficking crime as well, promoted by the corruption of Seattle Art Museum as queer rage.

         The purpose of this note is to clarify the mentality of their political-legal machinery, how they operate and the psychological blackhole of luminaries they present as their false face of friendship to the public trust.  Yoko Ono is different, a killer claiming to be a therapist, and announces herself infallible, but the truth is merely a twisted and vicious claw of Trumpytune status culture beloved to the Pelosi branch of real estate and power.  You cannot protect yourself from them but you can learn enough to identify them and the plan they have for their future hazmat attack.

           The proof of my claim is the absurdity of the idea that they care about our children.  No one who has followed the trajectory of Hollywood over the past three generations could mistake their arrogance or their destructive call to smash dignity and meaning while licensing mass changes in thinking to the worse.  The way that I was and am being targeted by the absolute monster Ringo Starr, virtually advertised by the murder of Saiorse Kennedy and the smoking gun autograph sent me by Clint Eastwood, a tip from their Yojimbo war game, is meant to indicate and give definition to their sense of humor, a travesty of character, and to close the gate around support for them out here in the West.  It is a true crime story of how the West was lost.

          To understand some of the missing chapters, like how Claudia Giffords’ near assassination relates to the Insurrection on January 6, 2021, would require something analogous to reading books with a robot that are in a library in the belly of Fukushima Diablo or Cher-Silkwood-nobyl.  The basis of the text for Lockerjee has to be rummaged from the flames at risk and cost.  The polluters have great minds, look at Yoko Ogawa’s novel The Memory Police, which is no more meant as a fiction than Moxyland, the South African Secret Service cyberpunk mockery of what was done to Macryland and America by RIngo in the 80’s when the need for Ecology was perfectly obvious and the basis of Jimmy C’s bid to retain the Presidency against the footstomper of the Trumpytune Movement, someone HitlerReagan.  For the truth about the rise of the Axis through the backdoor of Hollywood I recommend my online essay:  themepaper.webs.com   It’s focus on Paul Robeson is a good start.

          But my goal in this note is the psychology program of the ripper hatters in one-to-one intimidation, how they transform disgust at their greed and evil into admiration for their Hollywood high and most importantly, how they recruit new ach tung from the socialite.   My issue frightens people so easily that it is like talking to a child.  I entirely sympathize.  This strange society working with Pittsburgh culture who have LONG abused me and subjected me to menace, lured me back before Covid was known and the welcome was a sinister poison in the mouth which has produced noxious plaque and been resistant to healing.  This felony weird hate crime by Sound Mental Health collegiate rivals, I'm deaf and academic, showed that a very peculiar organization is willing to breach the peace with bacteriologicals.  Accordingly, we have a medical detective problem that is graphic with political bearing.

           While the local newspapers work as slavishly as mummies to make sure the genocide we are living through resonates well with you, they in effect generate a new culture that announces law itself for an evil crime.  This couldn’t be more vivid than in the extinguishment of me as an unwanted locust.  Hot and personal for the Ono hag, she has stacked her righteous duplicity into every venue, raped or murdered every last thing I love, and laughed.  The laughter of these banshees has rung long and personal throughout the Covid 19 nightmare.

          In their parlors behind the revolving bookshelves, their cunning takes a sanctimonious form.  I have been behind these bookshelves in every literal way and heard them hum of shiemish and effervescence hallowed theirs to proclaim.  It takes nauseating forms of pseudo-solemnity.  Their crank the lisper Fripp, a rowdy from the Bowie clique.  The face that they put on hatred, which they call in the sterile vernacular of new and improved Orwell, by love, of course!!! Is topical to the mind of Ono.

        Police cannot lift a finger even in the face of proof not because they are scared, stupid or F-Troop and racist.  They are unable to lift a finger because the Warhol Hollywood military have invented a deep freeze gun that turns them to Stone.

        Eno thinks he’s deep so let’s keep this chirp quick so as not to indulge the fatted Himmler attache of their Ashiata pimp.  They summon Harcourt, get it, hardy har har court, and having gone shopping in the mind of where the child hostage has been overdosed on trauma to find where he was too afraid to tell what happened to him, they name around him Postal Union thugs like Bernie S-lobodniak, the slob designator for indiscipline.  The good guys, if there are any, realize of course that it isn’t to protect our children that a Japanese war avenger has been transplanted into the guts of our show booth.

        These murderers worked with Danny Glover and Linda Lovelace back when Lovelace Theater had not yet been caught for real world marionettes or the palace plans for Linda Lovar.  Sound Mental Health is on the books promoting Smithsonian Magazine’s favorite museum thief in taking Praetorian custodial through knifing slay in Capitol Hill of the museum opus promissory note for dacoits of a bitter Allah, the performativity of a hidden status quo.  Nobody obsesses over themselves like they do.