Dr. Ralph Proctor, an African Art specialist in Pittsburgh Public Broadcasting, defending a Ku Klux Klan operation of child mutilation, claimed that the victim has no right to police or newspaper assistance because the plan for a lucrative Snuff Film being committed by serial murders of a prescribed description is what he calls a provincial norm for the City of Pittsburgh, working with University Administrators, that no one has the right to question.  To make it even more bitter, the police and newspapers are fully advised and when they couldn’t care less they are licky chops for the -30- on the next episode report.  Admittingly shooting death are a commonplace in the American Angola of Appalachian Pennsylvania and a standard genre in Hollywood, but for the child molesters working a lifelong hate crime of human trafficking for smut-and-snuff barons to call themselves openly, “Mancine,” and secure assistance and sanction from University and Catholic Hospital services in both Pittsburgh and Seattle lends credibility to the idea that we’re making our own movie of mass extermination through vaccine agency.  Manson Cinema has been real and reported as for real for decades by someone being held, politically, to its ends.

       When the Beatles and Hollywood gunned down the Kennedy Brothers the plan was in the Wizard War works to use John Lennon as the star of a big picture show ingeniously deploying Pentagon Disney network media to claim he had been shot while spiriting him away.  This is absolutely proven, but the idea that he died became weaponized for Yoko Ono’s plan of revenge for Adolf Hitler (which again very openly they referred to as Plan Caspar) which was scripted as a Texas Schoolbook by a dour Israeli felon named Gail Burstyn, who enjoys license in the matter, having been hired by Milton Shapp’s right hand man Ralph Tive and Attica State Prison psychiatrist Bernard Wattenmaker, partners of the British franchise King Crimson.  When James MacRyland Crary visited Claymont, a guru licking retreat in West Virginia, one of the King Crimson disciples there was talking to me about David Ray before Ray was arrested for serial murders.  The F.B.I. never intruded on the loping and the Seattle Chapter gladly signed off on their ripper slaughter of Shannon Harps by packing on Saoirse Kennedy, about which her mother had the sense to at least address me, only to be paid in action with the disappearance of two more kin, an act clocked to delivery of my reply by the same Postal Union who alerted me of their plan to slay Harps.

       Yoko Ono’s tool is a Trumpytune pussyball scorecard in which abortions are procured, doctored and then transformed by Christian mysterians into grounds to kill and kill again. The perpetrator is Midori Goto, which shows you just how far the lewd village of Clinton lands from the whip of Caligula.   Operating out of Warhol, her British attorney, Amanda Harcourt and their gang laughed loudly and openly of murdering Saoirse in online war clubs they bring in to haunt chat rooms where the nastiness of our political age gets bandied around by lonely types like myself, a deaf man forced into isolation by a creep Washingtonian Jay Inslee whose circuit castrated me as tribute to the Green conspiracy worked out with Trump and Pelosi we call Covid-19 because of the licky chops Mancine Cinema vids that David Cohen procured with the help of the Unions over the years.

        The assassins call this case The Walrus, and Story of the Bird.  They bandwagoneered their abusive and vile take on the nerve agent used on me in trauma by the sickest and most cowardly of means:  while murdering our leaders by assassination, Trumpytunes like Tim Kaine mobilized downtown Pittsburgh, Catholic Worker, screen writers, rock stars and (help me) baseball clowniacs to accuse me of stealing cars, a crime I take very seriously and they don’t at all.  Sporting me in malice this way was no way to address an impacted neurocoma from prelingual childhood.  Even as an adult I didn’t know or understand the word weaponize.  As a collegiate I didn’t really believe there was such a thing as prostitution, much less screen actress undercover attack prostitution of the sort used by Carnegie Mellon Drama School for their pimping of Snuff packages.

         Warhol streamlined rape phobia taunting and feminist agenda through the campus airwaves while I was in shock from serial attack and discovery of on-campus gladiator sports with death outcome, smeering me as in trauma because hiding my conditioning to prey upon women.  I didn’t prey upon women, but I was certainly conditioned by this orchestration by jetset to.  I went into seizures refusing to date rape, wrote a protest letter to the girl who was the starlet of the plan, nude alone with me at night for her cat cleaning, still vestial, when she taunted me, setting off years of porno surveillance experimentation, the grounds for raping my deaf advocate and Saoirse, during which time the hooligans played rough in a dare machine about disease contagion.

          Government attorneys only represent the Ark.  They are tired of people and bring out the strangers in the cracks, mysterious Carla, who appeared online angry and collecting, in a zoom rig with Larry Crist and Wm. somebody taunting sideways about the poison to the mouth that Sound Mental Health welcomed me back for in cultural competence for UW Dialectical after they started a rumor that Donnie Chin was killed to punish Chinatown for a white military nurse who had me chemically castrated by prescription written through a Chinese doctor when, in reality, Chin was probably killed because a member of the Chin family in Chinatown testified that I had been brutally assaulted in childhood leading to eye damage.  In the Tong of Yoko Ono and CMU’s Ming Na Wen, that’s a nono.