The pervert Trump professed to propose our rescue from a demolition of his own contrive and the lewd jest of this bolweeble is found in the slithering of the British promoting his gazette The Gail Burstyn Texas Schoolbook, as though timeless. Rubbish as odious, if noted, as the ruinous papers of Charles J. Guiteau, pictures from an exhibition of the swivel hip guitar impressario. It is clear my readers never tire of being lied to by the Beatles even long after finding they have helped Trump butcher our grannies and mislead our romantic quarters into a bonfire designated to trash our vanity. Instead their dacoitery continue to quibble as hatters over a human gerbil stuck with malicious dismemberments, not mindful of rescue but leering over what to do next. The myopia of their audition is horror genre Japanese, Tokyo Shock.
Telltale is the false assurance put up by Melanie Trump and Gaili Zappa. You can say anything, their gamer son Frank would say, motherly with inventions of his own, provided that is you don’t understand anything about what was really going on, then the rules change...drastically.
This message is about Lynn Schopf, a Pittsburgh area based photographer back in the 7when Axis and Zappa agent Ralph Marzlak was making sure I met up with the authorities, meaning such wonderboys as Peter Frampton and Robert Fripp. Working for Trump, Fripp arrived dementedy crowing that Reagan didn’t know, and while Gitmoing his castrated prey, he leered, Scooby doobie doobie where are you we got a job to do now. Scooby said whoosh, and when Scooby says whoosh you know somebody saw through the Pentagon Disney overthrow plot. The Pittsburgh NAACP threw in their fists with this plot to confiscate history by fiction, and the Pittsburgh Post Gazette, murdering my pap, stood their guns at the Shulman ready to sound charges against the queerbait.
The cartoons I drew for and many of them sent to Tim Menes the staff cartoonist were the specific images that the scam authorities lorded down upon to ever so shrewdly and with mob demonics to vilify after if Lapham himself had sequestered the doors to partake of Michael Reagan’s favorite scene. It was 1984 when Pitt’s Reagan Committee of the FEMA put me to work on RECON a retrospective conversion myuh. The cartoons I drew in alexytemia attempted to warn how I had been tortured and gassed.
The fact that they murdered my father so casually and openly is a disturbing sign of their renegade shadow behind the curtain of our legacy. Lennon’s devious enculturation of disrespect for American authority began when they disposed JFK. The rabid leer that I comfort myself, blameworthy, with fictions of my own while foreign impositions of a wildly dysfunction assessment, lethal to Kennedys as they are deranged, are openly espoused as their answer to the death throes of liberal narrative.
N’dour provided, prank like, the glamorized version of the the long gestating Union machine idea for an Ark. We find in The Black Scholar Magazine articles by the white editorialist WH Ferry on outrages like the arms race but note also he penned speeches for Henry Ford, a provider of Black jobs, beloved to Hitler. There was no contradiction there. We see the canning on the cover of a foreign English album tipping us off to the longstanding loyalty of Liverpool to the Confederate Secret Service. The scum most beloved to Schopf, a production director for the Beatles who she came in contact with in Pittsburgh in 1962, Peter Frampton, stands by the Confederate cannon on Humble Pie, a band shaped to wield a vague masquerade as American. The internet shows the affinity of Mencken’s American Language text to the idea of something being as American as Humble Pie.
The gyrations of Zappa war and deceits were just beginning. Who is this Goebbels of Bowie,, this prancing DD of dynamics for disaster, Shiva on the water’s smoke, couch casting little Jimmy while professing to be both man of the church and man of the people, who family-izes language with utterances like Belewish, familiar of all roles acquainted, spiin spin spinner of the Hollywood dialogue machine? The coward Fripp? Mongering American miltiary exams down to a family clique out of London? Sadly cognizanti of the difference between Jimmy Creary and Mac Crary as puppet utilities. He harks from a Gurdiev dive which is unaccredited, therefore free to perform assassinations which claiming to own the letters of the alphabet.
I am also stalked, because of him, by a University that kills.