Kennedy’s assassins, led by the Beatles, run a very exclusive Totalitarian agency, a sort of freedom drunk Totalitarian, Ltd. and the people of these Willards desire so badly, with such craven determination, to be inside the tent pissing out that they subject themselves to truly endless humiliations attempting to make the grade.   Meanwhile, the Royalists, having effectuated another extermination, are carousing for fresh blood, sleazy, shifty and emboldened.  

      The media has long cooperated in their heist and mass removal.  Inequity is the usual charge, even when so brazenly used as a derisive.  BLM, which should be pronounced BLAME made good and sure to get rid of their own grannies pursuing the social justice cause in media stoked up by a few coppers working for B.F. Skinner and Victor Frankl, egged on by the Zappas, real names to fall asleep at the wheel by.

      To understand what Pitt finds so enthralling about this you would have to think of my father as a Star Trek Adonis.  He abandoned the Ivy League, insulted the racists, and cut ties on principle with the rich, to serve in the Peace Corps and in Public Education.  The puppet masters leered from Carnegie Mellon, kicked down the doors of the school where his son was hiding, kidnapped and tortured me, then got the Proctors to summon up Andrea Swimmer, a raunchy hustler who debauched me in hostage slavery, to say it never happened.  Very significantly, the agency Apple Records set up as a false appellate, Amnesty International, demanded no background inquiry into this lewd trafficker, while putting me in infinite jeopardy as a double cross against America to liberate and avenge the Axis for the Royal Family.

         The Vaccine is now a metaphor for their sale of slavery and trafficking conjob.  You take it surrendering to the value code being demonstrated, don’t help anyone else, it will only backfire on you.  There is scarcity.  Survive.  Accompanying this is the Monty Python popcorn machine that goes right on selling candy by tapes of advertisement after the bomb goes off, playing it song and dance about the Equity Scythe.  The Equity Scythe was used by South African Secret Service during the AIDS attack to when pussyballer Youssou N’dour drowned out the screams hollering for some of Midori’s precious hootchie.  The squall drowned the murder of my father, the Warhols came pimping for spoils, and Pitt psychiatry was shown to be a loathsome pornography ring practicing vivisection on human blond children of senior faculty for, what else, Jewish Holocaust Survivors. Spect dat just bout has a moral, too, what else could it be but cheating the Black Man?

           The assassins at Microsoft and NASA, who laughed through the whole Covid bomb right into my head, you can take my word for it, call slave labor and the murder of Kennedys by the copper term of working a source.  

           What would a cursory investigation of Swimmer reveal?  Prof. Matey, who I begged to walk me home, who saw me to corner, sent me to the office for biting my fingernails bloody, knew I was after to make a sound in class, failed to report my disappearance for months, told me to take choir at Allderdice because I liked to sing.  There the bossy big Black lady helping Andrea adjust unleashed her at me with words from the Burstyn script.  Matey was a nine spot of higherness more utopian than my father who knew Eisenhower, he knew Tommy Dorsey.

          When DT appeared on the cosmic consciousness cover of Swami Nostra King Crimson the coolie for Donald Trump, with limns of queerbait being forced to sniff for Biden and Eisen and oblique references to James, the dark night of Dean Tierno’s death reverberated to announce the lethality of the signfier DT.  The scam the Beatles ran  is huge, an operation against the entire United States of America in the name of an Axis dominated planet.  They murdered Saoirse Kennedy, to the the stomping hoots of Seattle’s jackals, as a form of peer castration.  How could they sustain their claim to be sticking up for the poor when their entire agenda is to prove that the only man with privacy is the man with money?  The organized deviousness is something they are so proud of because it means to them they were right in siding with villainy.  Pitt was in on all this, and that’s not technically a new paragraph.  It’s all a game their Israelis cackle routinely.  The only logical outcome is to suck it dry by insider deals and see it destroyed.  DT.

           The thing about doctors of education in hard times is that like a cardiologist prolonging your life, they can, at best, prolong your ability to understand.  The heapists here have powerful brain fog machines.  One of their favorites is demand tribute to the Black man by any means necessary.  The problem isn’t just one of taste.  The Qing Dynasty fell because they forced all testimony against the British during the Opium Wars to conform to the doctrine of the Heavenly Mandate, making the reports about as useful at DT’s assurances concerning the bonus attack.  They have files of grievance long with the observations of the Swami Nostra to protect.   They have pornography psychiatry tracing back to grade school..  What more proof do you need that they are Victim!  If you disapprove you are a bigot unfit to comment.

         According to UW Dialectical, anytime anyone has anything three thieves at least arrive demanding to take it for themselves.   They operate the Gates panopticon Windows of the soul to profile prey Administratively.   For them the murder of Saoirse was a form of dream fulfillment.  Think about the profiling itself.  Cho, NW Asian Weekly, and Inslee lured me back with the murder of Donnie Chin, knowing that because Greg Chin had crossed them with scientific proof of torture, I would defend him by a Kennedy eulogy, they swiped back, take that, you non-Asian doo gooder.

           Who should prance forth together on cue from Richard Attenborough but the monstrous, predatory team of DT and another Operation:  Little Girl.   Inslee didn’t care about Saoirse, tell them we already got one, he chortled.  Having long worked the rabid’s punch linies, Tony Norman chuckled when an Alia, who observation’d the nerve agent script for Yoko Ono in Pittsburgh, summoned up the punch liine from Spring Caoy, ‘Stay safe,” hahahahaha, for the Relative Truth, Truth! Of Carnegie Mellon.

           Manchild in the Promsed Land has sentence that gored into my skull as a child. “It was like pepper on the brain.”  Sgt, Pepper, who sprinkled sarin on the Walrus for the stage rights of Gay Sirhan Sirhan.      Real Estate mogul Sue Saniel-Elkind used to homily, “How can one hear in a fog,” while her adjuvants Burstyn and Obama summoned back, “take away, take away my eyes, sometimes I’d rather be blind,” on the compense scoreboard of Gurdiev kluk.  Gates, having corralled my art with his lookalike Carolyn Hale, charmingly indexed to the middle names of Burstyn and Thos. Gordon in Pittsburgh, watches the porno in my computer with the parochial squint of a ripper saint.

         It is all about the spoils, Pitt likes to say, while running their war on Public Schools.   My father’s book on Human Rights is answered by the hyena voices of Pener Gabriel, avenging his partner John Shulman.   It’s a huge scam, but unfortunately, the frauds command the cordone.