The murderers at UW like to say that no matter how shifty, belligerent, vicious and deceitful they are, there is, fundamentally, no difference between me and them, but there is:

    If a political action team that I knew to be violent to innocent people without provocation, despicable and surreal in their dishonesty, and unpredictable, lethal and aggressive in using terror turned on one of my friends and told them, if you try to report us it will only hurt you, it will only backfire, it will only boomerang, I would make sure my friend knew that I defended them.  Nobody has done the same for me. The people who insinuate in closely are war-gamers sabotaging what I tried to do which is advise my peers for their own safety. Clearly, the assassins, the attackers, rigged it, in psychological cunning, remorseless in its deceit, to declare somehow that even though everyone knows they are lying, I am the enemy of every single one of you for no good reason but that I slaved my life into shit trying to help you understand.  They even used a dereliction of my name, Jim Carrey, in The Truman Show, titled for the President who defended the honor of a man’s right to privacy from invasive government scrutiny off the hours of his workplace obligations.   Indexed to the Little Boy bomb that probably saved my father’s life, they attacked me blind side as a little boy and claim the evil screed they authored in explanation as a curiosity shop tension is Warhol’s Bible above review.  That the murderers had no right to use me this way is their biggest turn-on. The assassins clocked two virgins race eugenic pussyball to the AIDS attack as a parochial gladiator spectacle and wasted the post-war hopes of our entire society.  It is worse than there is no hope, they committed us to a genocide of civil convenience and not one of them has shown remorse. Deviousness has replaced sincerity in our political structure. All this being true, yet they have banged on, laughing, rubbing our faces in it for good measure, lying powerful lies, obvious lies, for decades to consume time against warning, to make sure that AIDS spread, to make sure that the money trying to cure it went to them.  Meanwhile, like a pedantic little Bolshevik, the rabid monster Ringo Starr has dared to question my motives.

     Now the first thing these murderers will say is that this story is not about me, even their occupation and obsession has targeted me, probably since pre-birth.   Since this is not about me, they will say, as though in a High Court, as a basis for their ideas of judgment, that the fact that they are murderers of innocent people and castrated me without trial is not an offense and has no meaning.    Yet this is the basis of their entire claim to property rights as an act of art. They are selling inhuman humiliation of a slave guinea pig, a piece of ivory poached by the NAACP and their horrifying alliance of silence, precisely and only because I am a United States citizen who deserved better from our government. The government refuses to be held responsible for what they are doing, for their pornography, for their blacklisting, for their child mutilation, for their race pussyball, for their horrifying sacrificial homicides, and their encrypted arguments are both readable and brazen.  Insane crime, they leer, is high art, and anyone who defends me they will murder, having murdered others to demonstrate that principle, and despite this fact being the fact, despite this being obvious and the truth, no one defends me, not out of fear, but because they are pleasured by the idea, just as they cheered the attackers on 911 by pretending it was someone else other than those who publicly took credit for it, try denying the evidence just once for kicks maybe, you won’t because you won’t dare allow the evidence to be considered admissible.  There is an explanation. The explanation is that you refuse to see the explanation. That is the entirety of the explanation in sum and total. We have been under attack, my victimization is part of that attack and you deny that we are being attacked using denial about what was done to me as your deflector.

         This is the beginning of the truth of how shocking our complicity is in a genocide of convenience.    The worst liar of them all is Penis Gabriel and he is welcome at NASA. Every law enforcement officer on the block has witnessed for themselves how he shaped perceptions about me using a horrible, horrible neuroplastic substance to aggravate trauma that he then misrepresented.  No one questioned him, even in review of the fact that he thinks himself a rock star, who has brayed in a double album about castration of a rapist as salvation, even in review of this egomaniac’s preoccupation with rape art and castration art, nobody questioned his premise that refusal to rape, that leaving a girl a virgin, justified his brutal assassination of Saoirse Kennedy, his horrific rape of Jeannie Tamburro, his sickening justification for child pornography, his deranged and explosive itinerary of castrating an American poet who they had prior deafened and traumatized into comatonic slavery, nobody questioned it, and yet there it is, everyone knows it, in cold blood.