I hear voices from the sonar I have reported for decades saying:  Carnegie Mellon can’t believe how cruel this humiliation is, Midori Goto can’t believe how cruel this humiliation is, but the privilege of being able to report the news about what happened to JFK and the AIDS attack outweighs all the rubbish and opprobrium visited upon me for my duty to American society.  Any half decent doctor can follow the thread of how the attackers maneuvered to make it out that telling the truth about them is a Federal crime. Framing us, they snickered. Permit me to calmly remind you that I am right about what happened. In the Dallas Police Department during the days that Oswald the Rabbit was being held, and Jack Ruby strolled hither and thither, acknowledged by Sheriff Wade, a Japanese man followed him around and this man in the films is the telltale semiotic.  Ruby was a human trafficker, and the pattern which fits together perfectly, directs itself ultimately the C in a Star of David as a symbol of Neva pornographic cinema pyre. It’s futile to deny it, du’un like this here and that there, holy Moses and you don’t know the wrath of HitlerReagan.    

        I was thinking about JFK today, I do this a lot because you have to get through about JFK if you are going to get through about the AIDS attack and the era of infamy we call the Cold War that heartlessly discounted Russia’s suffering in WW2 while adopting a friendly attitude towards fascism, a revised text of humanism delighting the hearts of those who know we need public education and a Botanical Renaissance in the race against mass extinction caused by Climate Change.   Edgar Martinez was signing autographs today. I saw him once with Orlando Cepeda a contemporary of Roberto Clemente. JFK was like them, a hard worker, someone everyone wanted to see. You go into the Team Store if he was around and stand off in a corner thinking, that’s JFK and go up to get his autograph and no matter how shy you are, he’d catch your eye and give you a real wink, so you’d be oh my God I just met Abraham Lincoln, but instead some asshole hotshot who replaced him hit him in the head with a molten jelly bean because Bernard Wattenmaker said, “Idea has struck the mind.”   The point is the American mind is sacred. The foreign English eccentrics involved and Sinatra’s Holywood, the so called Ringwood Conspiracy, can’t just get other ideas and tell the public, you all love it, don’t you? I didn’t want this paragraphical vignette to be like, O’Creary put the Kennedy Curse on Edgar, which is how the mystics of Warhol Foundation will twist it like, sniveling better fess up and kowtow to Yoko Ono if you don’t want more, which is how it works and has worked for a long time. As Donald Ostro used to shout, “You think I won’t! You think I won’t!” So snaps Paul McCartney at the command center of Pentagon Disney.

         I figured out what happened to Kennedy and so did John Pesa, an ethical thinker in Massachusetts architecture.   KKK is a Confederate Symbol, Ku Klux Klan or Kinder Kuche Kirche, but when you read the device as Clue, the C represents a Yankee symbol.   It’s all ciphered. The British hired Kasper to attack me in a KC semiotic about being scared straight by AIDS, while indexing Kasper to Hitler in Argentina, a friend of the Royal Beast Duke Edward who didn’t forget how he was sleighted.

        Robert Fripp’s ambush of me clearly indicated to the masses the unforgivable idea that I was to blame for the whole thing which is libel.   The libel promoted by Geffen has also killdozered JFK as though he was Rachel Corrie. Aided in this Nazgullery by the sort of people endemic to Seattle whose sole aspiration in this world is to make themselves a headache to other people already hard struck by misfortune, the British found authoritarian personalities like Larry Flynt and serenaded them with songs like, “He shall believe on, and he shall be a good man.”    But what he believes is tiresome for how wrong it is. He seems happy as the new Jack Ruby. How someone could use the practical intelligence of the hard working American ethic in a book like the Fountainhead and pervert it into a Holy War crusade in the name of rock music is absolutely unbelievable.

           Clearly the 60’s could be used for brainwashing.  We know that the fascists considered poisoning Mandela’s brain to embarrass the ANC, they tried to embarrass JFK with Marilyn, they talked of throwing acid in the face of JFK’s children, the Pittsburgh NAACP had no right to ignore that I was tortured much less target the injury sexually, and yet they did.  When you look at the alliance of Rosa and Donald, well, you see what it means. The index is their buried treasure, the Warhol trove of Adolf, it ends a 1982 book about pre-Mickey Mouse animation, signed in the Index of Donald Z, Adolf. And it calls itself a parallax, a fait accompli, Obama’s wheedle, but in reality, when you look at people like Dr. Brian Duchin of Tacoma Community who actually believes the history that the perpetrators say they do, too (it’s so safe to believe what powerful people say they do, too) and Edgar Martinez, who may have doubts when throwing in his lot with Michael Reagan, the issue of Parallax views comes up against something a little less familiar than hypocrisy, and that is peer review.