I don’t mean to turn back the clock or tell you an old story, this is about right now, but I left Pittsburgh where I was born in the 21st century.  Seattle in 2001 while the Mariners were high in the limelights of achievement and charisma and before the blow of 911 came as a frightening material lesson in political devastation, I was in the ruin of homelessness as a deaf man under an unorthodox siege.   Accordingly, it is very difficult to give testimony at Town Hall speeches about it as one story, because it was at least two, my condition, however frightful, being that of the outsider and the other even in the tribe of Seattle's organized opinion about dark horse experience.  What they are going through with covid takes work to accept.  I remember their support for the down. There is no question that John Williams, in whose memory stands a lovely totem pole downtown, was a welcoming spirit, who met me with a warm, compassionate, and shy, elevated smile in those days whenever we crossed paths. If you don’t know, he was deaf and shot in the back by a cop for whittling as he strode, a hallmark of his craftsmanship as a scrawny, loveable, Native American guy. This underscores the presence of inclusion despite the role playing advantage that those who were myth raking about my issues in Pittsburgh misinformed about me by accomplices to keep me in the severity I have always been in, despite the terrible grievance of organized crime.  Being idealistic, I tried to reason with Real Change Newspaper, but they have me on their informal death row, so instead of coming across as generous, my award winning poetry, which sometimes was altered spitefully, came over as surrendering to extortion and defeated service to a core of thugs.

        There were some fairly good things to say at first.  We had that Urban Rest Stop, and in due course I managed to find housing, but not until a medical person damaged me in terms of my manhood, leaving in heart emergency rooms, and with diabetes.  This sort of violence never let up and the fact that it came from overlords and UW intellectuals continues to rankle as someone who crawled here from Pittsburgh, crying in an Iowa bus station when I became too afraid to go back East.

         Again, it doesn't really follow that it should have had to be that way.  There seems to be (in fact there is, face it) a movie maker bounty on my name coming from Martin Sheen who slummed occasionally in the Catholic Worker situation in Pittsburgh where a defender of pedophiles who tortured me named Vince Eirene would sit giving me the finger as he sold my art to raise money for his couch potato hospitality center.  Sheen’s friend Clint Eastwood very recently sent me an autographed picture with a smoking gun.   My father Ryland, in Public Education, was called a hero by the Northeast Regional Director of Amnesty International who took classes with him when she went to college for his worldly experience with groups like the Navy and Peace Corps.  He had a very perceptive attitude against racism which is so timely even now that his book on human rights from the 1940s was recently re-published in India.  Real Change did convey a poem about pain, titled The Hero which augurs the message of Joe Biden’s Speech we heard a few nights ago.  They sent my poem to the Chinook Coupon Book for publication, much to my family's amusement, having always supported my poetry.

          The legacy of two stories is sad, because when I attended the Clubhouse of Sound Mental Health some of the people liked my art and seemed to enjoy my company, but there was a watchdog group from UW who wanted me held for cruel mistreatment that follows a strange line of thinking I can only call sociological malpractice, it amounted to homicidal sacrificialism, a death row and it never really made sense, it was based on those myths about me from Pittsburgh that Sheen has tried to claim as cinema text about a persona they made up, insisting on deriding me as hiding criminal inclinations and abusing me as using my deafness to plead for charity I'm not due.  It should be pointed out that I already lived with strange injuries and truly nightmarish childhood horror.

          On the surface of everyday matters, I wanted to just be casually adrift in Seattle society and make due.  Heartbreak that heavy is a burden.  I often said quite truthfully that life in Chinatown / International District was happier for me than I ever thought I could be under the circumstances which are my life.  I don't know why felony hate criminals single me out for stalking the way they do, apparently there is some malicious idea that if they make me a circus freak of morbidity from torture that I can raise money for their circus.

          None of the above ever dissuaded me from wishing I could inspire, learn from, or help the homeless come to grips with their condition.   I know from study that reentry from prison, for example, is one of the saddest areas of oversight in our civics and needs direction and engagement.  I can imagine Obama addressing this, or Cory Booker with some such words as, while it is important not to be proud of crime, there are significant and good lives worth living who have endured prisons and this fact has made them stronger.   Naturally, the mythmakers know this, too, and I was driven into screams of trauma by gaslighting techniques from forensic assertive undercover marauders who pulled such stunts as poisoning my food and mouth.  None of that is an advertisement for helping charities in Seattle.  It is a gun.

             If the goal is to do better, I doubt that the mask of benevolence in Seattle will ever be taken off and progress made.  I wish it wasn't such theater, even theater of war, but I'm a broken old man whose health was taken from me in cold-blood and deliberate hate crime at a time I sincerely wanted to help.  Making sense of that is impossible but at least I know it from the sadistic, paradox-happy sociologists in Dialectical UW-ism and their Orwellian Catch-22's that it sources from those operating the charity frame.  Maybe saying so will help someone else be careful.

            The whole thing is so sad it's scary.

            Meantime, while this was going on, I tried to reach many, many people about my findings.  Most politics are very simple, we approve of this, we approve of that, we disapprove of something but don’t believe it should be given the death penalty, etc.   Due to the fact that I am dealing with the criminally insane, the involvements were an ordeal to find out and the facts jeopardized my relationship with police, as well the caustic explanations being given by political talking heads who support weighing down the problem, but some of it is superficial enough to be quite clear.  The assassins are involved in funding both Hollywood movies and political superstars.  They are following a script I found in Warhol and Fox studios where I was being used for a Truman Show and I made it available online.  Second, they are using me to further an argument with the Kennedys and were advisors to both Queen Elizabeth and friends with Agatha Christie.  I’m an old man whose father had seen the world, himself touring five continents as a world class educational lecturer and Naval veteran of WW2.

         I learned a great deal about these serial killers, proved they set up a parochial fight club war game.  It is one in which a Black woman in their Green Party culture snarled “white bitch” just before they murdered Saoirse Kennedy in the name of the Jewish Defense League, calling me out online through Warhol colleagues with the words, “You paid with your heart.

          This fight club closed our schools recently with their covid bomb to take their doctrines to our streets.  They clocked Two Virgins Pussyball, a race fight Midori Goto thought up with Japanese pornographic interests led by Yoko Ono at Warhol, to show that good Black men could fight the good fight with New Germany.   I wrote to Gallaudet University for the Deaf after they raped my deaf best friend.   I was sent to ADWAS in Seattle, deaf advocates, whose mentor program included a woman Cathy Hoog who admitted the evidence I showed her for a plan in the AIDS attack was absolutely convincing and yet did nothing, even when I was chemically castrated and poisoned in the mouth except say congratulations on gaining the Honors Society at school.

        Throughout all this, Barack Obama functioned in his usual way as a Maxfield Parrish painting and corporate installation, giving good speeches in a vacuum built like a Wax Museum doll from Pentagon Disney, in other words, he did nothing, he supported a witch hunt for donations by Geffen whose expert fabulist Peter Gabriel wrote to me at my school for several years as he set up his double game.  They made out that I was a jealous crazy.  In reality the situation was a libel and a slander, a conspicuous one.  I encouraged those two women I loved, Leslie and Rosa, to leave me.  I said I am fighting myself.  I didn’t understand that they were hired by Pitt Neurobehavioral Research who implanted a neurological taser into my nervous system that I managed in seizures to repulse into my facial nerve.  They all knew this was there, that I didn’t and for that was their liberal detonator toy.

          The occult society of military Christians behind this, war college types like Greg and Lew Karl, who have written about it in guarded, privately circulated letters I secured temporarily and was arrested for taking to show the Law School, who lured me out West for their script with Sheen and murder of Saoirse, are just that, they use the obscure, it’s Rosicrucian stuff.   They have terrible baggage in the arts, doufus prancers like the progrocker Fripp, a fanciful gyrationist who episodically pleasures Trump.  Fripp and Trump obsess over me.   So when you find an angle it gets all Medieval with pageant blooms and stickers, arguments of meaning over the difference between an eagle and a phoenix, etc.  But the root of my issue today is Biden.  He arrives with a message I know well, the ability to lift from the ground, like Gandhi wounded while leafleting, and continue because of purpose, sounds like a strategic anthem.  Mr. Biden’s hands are full.  He’s not going to prosecute war criminals.  America doesn’t have what it takes.

          My point is this:  you are allowing devil work in academics to tie your tongues up in gobbledegook.  You don’t hate poetry so much that you think we should be poisoned and drafted into Christian stage play death spectacles by the magnificent quislings from the Right Wing of Hollywood.  You don’t scorn law and order so much that you think murder most foul should be used to advertise songs by the depraved and cynical.  You don’t think the Federal Courthouse should have judges using Saoirse Kennedy’s photograph for a dart board.  You don’t think adulterers should be publicly whipped and put to death.  You don’t believe that murder in a war game of pussyball put on by freak Administration in Pitt and UW is funny.   You know this is Nazism.

        Why are you neglecting to summon assistance for a victim who was tortured by a gang who portrayed themselves as being from Amnesty International?   Because they are criminally insane is why.  Rest assured, I know all that about you.  You, too, are dealing with the criminally insane.

It is August 2020, dead of night in the covid molecule mist and no one knows who will live or die this year but it goes to show what Hillary’s village is capable of. One thing is clear, it is harder for Seattle Left, so easily manipulated by Trump all these years, to use Lennon as a medium for blame in the AIDS attack when their cover up operation for the kidnapping ordeal at Kings Estate in Pittsburgh, its ties to the genocide organized by Japanese pornographers working with Reagan, is a cover up that so obviously served to set up the covid bomb as well as the atomic threat engineered by the Green Party hovering over us like all their other surprise attacks. Rusted Root was brought in online last night to attempt damage control, the usual anthrax from the police department who ignored this terrible syndicate from Dylan and Warhol, still going on in the launching zone of Yoko Ono’s war of revenge that recently claimed three more Kennedys. Like the fact that a namesake of Dia called me on Dec. 8, 1980, the photo of anthrax Dia at the World Trade Center with her stiletto http://doubleillusionblog.wordpress.com the facial nerve burn https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2Gdy5zCeLY and covid bomb, the murders of Saoirse and two others in her family are difficult for Rusted Root to explain away as friendly fire simply by evoking their magical seance that virginity is rape to cover for Mt. Desert Island and the pornographic psychiatry announcing their found art plan. The damage control in other words has about it the tone of Johnny Gammage control from State Police.

V + R Planning, the name of a company in Neva Corporation who scripted the Warhol letters of Gail Burstyn for Yoko Ono, refers simultaneously to Virginity and Rape, as well as Victory and Revenge. This crime team use a C in a Star of David for their symbol and overdub chat for their reaper school. They kidnapped and gassed me at Kings Estate. I was a child on my way to school. They used a symbol of a stolen yellow Lincoln Continental for the kidnapping as well as their storyline in the heist, having battered me with slaughteriing blows to the head as a minor, targeting me for my distinguished father, shattering me into a neurobedient golem with brain implants as a very young child for the British spectacle engineering team to swoop in, masquerading as investigation, the very ones who did it, who stole the Kennedy story by murder, and hotwire their stage cast as witnesses to spin their artsy takes on what had been done to me while providing powerful soundtrack from their prog rock studios, the materialists behind the covid bomb have come in conquest selling America as a laugh by the pound

The provincials of Pittsburgh used neurotrauma to induce coma-like amnesia as a lost wax method of history for construction of public relations in a genocide in which the variable was the escape behavior of the prey, hitching to St. Louis to appeal to their assassin guild unwittingly for example, but since I am non-violent, all that was easily contained and hotwired for their pleasure. The seduction by De De in childhood was a form of enemy adoption. The assassinations of the Kennedys are Pittsburgh, Britain and Seattle’s idea of family law.

The corporations in command have overlapped the issues, empowering real mayhem from the pure evil in Auburn, Wa, putting semen in a coffee at Red Elm after the covid bomb. The law, for Dialectical UW-ists are the Pitman, who gas children. By demanding the right to kill innocent bystanders if the script does not announce the flaw clause that the names of the powerful were misused by impersonators, a death row is kept in place as funeral control. It’s master purpose comes down from eugenicist British who call their breeding program archetypalism, death in service of an Ark, saving the best of the best, and putting cardboard memories of those betrayed (who made the sacrifice) in the stands to be hit by foul balls.

Lilith is their symbol, the radical lesbian who arrived to dispute with Biblicists that abortion proved fallen women the sanction of the devil, which is the ultimate so-called humanism. If you can break the laws of God, they laugh, then they can break the laws of war.

No one has ever questioned it.

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    The arguments derived by the all points society brought down my head by Geffen illustrate their own lost thread.  All of the points, no matter how significant are significantly beyond the planning and cunning of the child they master tend.   By tilting the idea of innocence they scheme to culture scorn for attempts to warn.   One illustration of point leads to another.   Showing how exhaustive the academic world can be when turned to tyranny is easily shown in Slavoj Zizek construction of a refutation for what he says is Umberto Eco’s misunderstanding of humor as anti-totalitarianism.  To feed this discourse you have to buy into the slam dunk mistranslation of the illegal tape made by Belew and Carbonell, and then to hold forth that any interpretation could be connived as witness to collaboration with totalitarianism.   Meaning, calling it laughter is an offense, calling it proof of one side or the other, makes it a spoil trophy in a pre-edited firefight by interested customers, none of which had anything to do with the child or the tone in which the neuroplasm cried for help.   Onto this they then projected their own why not?   Seeing as how they can get away with anything.

      So the construction of the Microsoft Panopticon was prescribed in highly doctorate levels already.    The pre-wiring of the conjob is to say they are exposing me not me exposing them and that at best I am exposing myself as an exhibitionist.   How can a person whose home is being invaded qualify as an exhibitionist?     

       There are academic issues worthy of pursuit in all this, pertaining to the impunity of the entertainment field, waking the broken person with barks of Don’t Fuck With Rock and Roll.   I may die trying to understand why my father’s divorce was said to illustrate by abandonment the hypocrisy of public education compared to British rock and roll.    The simple answer may suffice.  What made the Kennedy mission of American school excellence so hated by the British is the prospect of educational dominance, which is clearly sophisticated, being understood and subverted from below for the purposes of a Poor People’s Campaign.  In retaliation they induced alienation.

       Reading Bush’s lips took some doing because of his mask, I suppose, but mockery and laughter at a deaf man’s infirmity surely weighs in favor of Zisek over Eco.  Bush liked adventures a little too much and seemed to favor the moral of the story in Indiana Jones and Wizards where the fast gun won rather than persuasion bringing peace.   Surely not everyone who disagrees with you is HItler.   The mask he wore was the Mask of Benevolence described by Harlan Lane, a deaf field writer.   I came from his ship.  What could be benevolent about not making clear I was kidnapped and abominably abused?  Abdul the Terrorist, in Pittsburgh, seemingly prescient of where things stand now with the Dialectical UW-ists, whose real name was Adam Eisenstat, used to crow in his band, “I take pictures of your kind.”  This surely send Ming Na Wen screaming, like Kyra Schon, for the cameras.

          I don’t like this game. 

      In other words, the so-called evidence was all their creation, a feedback loop they impacted for recovery when they were good and ready.   Pittsburgh ran a Marquis de Sade school for mandatory appearance of misconduct where even Mister Rogers knew what I had earmarked for, designated by the school of humanism where my father was a teacher, playing off the concept of my being abandoned, but the church at the corner of Forbes and Murray which was torn down in my infancy to build a library was already decided symbol.  I used to be very moved by service there.  I was taken in to a plan servicing the notion that separation of church and state was divorce from the spirit at least that is what the jokers in the supernatural panopticon they put together allege.   It’s clear the high lords are British and that the call from Geffen for unity without any sort of accurate review is a return to taxation without representation.  If I plead any right to privacy they claim secrecy and project the shadow of doubt, making a mockery of Right to Laws with Michael Reagan’s favorite scene.

        Even though the entire case is loaded with unjustified abuse and torture, they have evoked health complications as salvation and baptism for making me acquainted with the value bestowed upon life by its being threatened.   Whose cruel and psychotic mind could have put this together and run riot with it for so long?   Rosine had an African friend living on Bartlett with Israelis I used to drive home.

        Seeing the powers of the illusion machine the Axis franchise of Pentagon Disney figured why not just create a separate reality?  The thinking had precedence in the science fiction of Ayn Rand.  Duplicity seems to have been the essence of Double Fantasy, Lennon’s answer to his own idea of I am the Walrus, a snicker and fat chance to Jimmy Kennedy’s shade.   

        As a person, JFK made me feel hope.  Where was the hope now when he was subverted to a man with a voice like elixir who only welcomed rich people and sang about them having money in big bags?  Who glamorized acid, booze and ass?   Who drowned any sense with loud guitars while implying the Draft Board was behind any attempt to warn about the danger of illegal narcotics?  Who framed a deaf child for Japanese sex cinema who used such symbols as battering Marilyn dolls?  While praising the sublime and celestial insight of archetypes?

      The Green Party in other words, although they model some of their less sleazy tactics on non-violent civil disobedience, are hardly a new Civil Rights Movement campaigning for poor people and social justice.  It’s deranged to tell someone to sign on with them after such furious mistreatment.  They do some sex to cover mutilation.  

     The arguments derived by the all points society brought down my head by Geffen illustrate their own lost thread.  All of the points, no matter how significant are significantly beyond the planning and cunning of the child they master tend.   By tilting the idea of innocence they scheme to culture scorn for attempts to warn.   One illustration of point leads to another.   Showing how exhaustive the academic world can be when turned to tyranny is easily shown in Slavoj Zizek construction of a refutation for what he says is Umberto Eco’s misunderstanding of humor as anti-totalitarianism.  To feed this discourse you have to buy into the slam dunk mistranslation of the illegal tape made by Belew and Carbonell, and then to hold forth that any interpretation could be connived as witness to collaboration with totalitarianism.   Meaning, calling it laughter is an offense, calling it proof of one side or the other, makes it a spoil trophy in a pre-edited firefight by interested customers, none of which had anything to do with the child or the tone in which the neuroplasm cried for help.   Onto this they then projected their own why not?   Seeing as how they can get away with anything.

      So the construction of the Microsoft Panopticon was prescribed in highly doctorate levels already.    The pre-wiring of the conjob is to say they are exposing me not me exposing them and that at best I am exposing myself as an exhibitionist.   How can a person whose home is being invaded qualify as an exhibitionist?     

       There are academic issues worthy of pursuit in all this, pertaining to the impunity of the entertainment field, waking the broken person with barks of Don’t Fuck With Rock and Roll.   I may die trying to understand why my father’s divorce was said to illustrate by abandonment the hypocrisy of public education compared to British rock and roll.    The simple answer may suffice.  What made the Kennedy mission of American school excellence so hated by the British is the prospect of educational dominance, which is clearly sophisticated, being understood and subverted from below for the purposes of a Poor People’s Campaign.  In retaliation they induced alienation.

       Reading Bush’s lips took some doing because of his mask, I suppose, but mockery and laughter at a deaf man’s infirmity surely weighs in favor of Zisek over Eco.  Bush liked adventures a little too much and seemed to favor the moral of the story in Indiana Jones and Wizards where the fast gun won rather than persuasion bringing peace.   Surely not everyone who disagrees with you is HItler.   The mask he wore was the Mask of Benevolence described by Harlan Lane, a deaf field writer.   I came from his ship.  What could be benevolent about not making clear I was kidnapped and abominably abused?  Abdul the Terrorist, in Pittsburgh, seemingly prescient of where things stand now with the Dialectical UW-ists, whose real name was Adam Eisenstat, used to crow in his band, “I take pictures of your kind.”  This surely send Ming Na Wen screaming, like Kyra Schon, for the cameras.

          I don’t like this game

       Youssou N'dour just got on the emergency red line to Trump HQ and declared that if they didn't prevent today's post by Jimmuh Queerball Her Majesty's failsafe plan to make the USA a vassal of the Green Axis under her paw might be effectively challenged.   I don't need verification.  I know this because it is real.   The boiling arctics are coming and the intent is to demolish America by depicting our civil norms as the enemy within.  A major attempt is underway to demolish the United States as its own worst enemy.   If you want to talk about the children, tune in to Greta Thunberg.  I'm here to talk about the women.  

       Like everyone else in America I am overloaded with brainwash from the Black Lives Matter pressure lobby.  I'm not supposed to admit what I have seen.   I lived in Seattle Chinatown over a decade during which time I was subject to UW Sociology's intimidation fetish constantly much of it at the hands of their rowdy black army on the street, the NAACP's Homeland Security system you might say, their pimps.  During this time I used to walk young Chinese women home, an attractive single mother, some beautiful Christian girls, some happy go lucky, one very beautiful on every level.  Although I saw the disturbing paint can attacks defacing poverty stricken businesses, I also had been excluded from the Mah Jong Club and knew that several of the winos in the park who are black were treasures of the community, not all of them covering for violent crime and mayhem.  So a somewhat guarded racist comment didn't escape my notice.  Come, come, she challenged me, you don't see what I do, walk me to the bus stop.  I did, and sure enough gawdy, luscivious, ugly gawking and stares surrounded her from every direction, leering from the windows of the bus, a definite moment of black male behavioral problems.  Don't get me wrong, many things like that go on in my heart.

       I don't really know what those who relish disputes about the meaning and purpose of correctness hang their hats on other than the power to give grades.  Stokely Carmichael was rather infamous for chiding women that their place in the civil rights movement was prone.  Penis Gabriel refuses to capitallize names because he thinks human beings are just things, his toys.   We all know as soon as they read the truth they'll be jumping up and down.   You will be asked to presume me chilly towards Black men, so of an Arctic White whose hidden racism has been triggered to boil.

        That's where Andrew Cho comes in because when it comes to Asian women what is at issue here is what they really want and how they can get it is all about strength.  It is no accident that Vicky Funari, film-maker of the film The Strong, laughed about me in my deaf presence with Leslie Katz all through even the best days of our long relationship.   The three of them feel terribly cheated of a very icky funeral and Funari wants it yet.   In the Vietnam War when John Wayne and Clint Hill set up JFK it was all for the women, and they had in mind the braintrust of showing that this is what American women really want.   The Oswald Diary of LIFE edition had a photo of a grinning Asian Princess with a caption box, "imagine this little porker wriggling and squealing in your arms."  Martin Luther King couldn't constrain the NAACP.  They wanted some.

        Dr. Ralph Proctor's cult who mutilated me and used me for pornography in what they rudely announce as a genius act of African Art in civil warfare they call race therapy were in fact a lunatic fringe just waiting to happen.  It is huge mistake to think UW Sociology and the Green Party care about race, they want the strong, they grant what Cho calls sexual access to the strong and they are engaged in major depopulation measures for the Trump estate.  Black Lives Matter, maybe not all of the demonstrators, but the reigning vanguard are the diversion and deception wing of the Greens behind the mutilation, the AIDS onslaught, the mouth poison and Covid bomb.  

       You love it because Yoko Ono has offered you distinction as her subject and slave.   The tourniquet against understanding is the simply Houdini act by Trump's favorite John Lennon and the likewise bogus Hollywood shooting of Reagan who had me present as surely as the gruesome scars of Ben in CMU Fine Arts.   But it's not just Funari, it's Ofara Hutchison and his crowning stereotype of the good Black man being defamed whenever a black criminal is named.   They don't like to be found out for their role in the AIDS attack, the NAACP have notions of decency, Trojan notions of decency.  There are some things you just don't talk about.

The rabid of course have engaged in a furious, deviant dredging for linguistic extrusions from their bloody hell neuroplasm uploaded into the mind of America.   They were after the comments they enculturated by Ivy League reinforcement.   Jaime Carbonell openly worked for Neva Corporation and with the German revenge specialists Alternative Conflict Resolution who put on a show for the AIDS victims led by those who released the virological attack, a newtype weapon of choice as we have learned from Grand Wizard Trump.  

        Much of this is Bill Gates and Jay Inslee mocking the idea of mind your own business.  The American standard of inferiority comes to light they say by the unwillingness of the dinosaurs to protect their own children.   Tampering with the neurological system of the golem amplified the tragedy and loss of my fiance and the baby they paid her to abort to throw butcher baby pictures in my face during seizures long planned by Swimmer, Ono and Tuttle through D'Allesandro's Funeral Parlor at Leslie Park.    As for the script they all knew it was child sex going on.

       The rabid are circling me symbolically with gunfire.

Lured here by Chin murder.

Rape of Chini

Iowa Molly murdered (name of my niece)

Ramos shoots up news room (name of Green Party attache at TCC)

Tangney suspect in mouth poison

Cho commander of mouth poison at TCC ( harp of Burma enthusiast)

S. Harps slasher murder outside clubhouse / banned from Seattle Comm. College for trying to prevent, incarcerated for speaking out against.

The rabid are circling their prey sadistically.