The AIDS Control Tower, which predated the appearance of the situation, was set up knowing what they were going to do and how they were going to proceed, so everything that could be done to make it look like they settled on their course of action as a routine response to circumstances as they arose were cultivated by theatrical arts and manufactured by drama. It is always interesting to hear white people play that they are welcoming blacks into their midsts as equals who are not thereby willing to entertain, in other words understand, the reality of black military genius. One of the centerpieces of the rabid in Britain behind the AIDS attack was their primary function in narrative: King Crimson, which was a government operation more than it was a band, claimed that their war game on Mt. Desert Island, which is still going on, after multiple homicides of innocent persons under the ground rules of their theory, was a paramilitary operation over alleged harassment charges by an Israeli woman involved in the AIDS control tower who didn’t even go to police and repeatedly visited the accused in a friendly way long after the abridgement that Akrim Midani of Carnegie Mellon evoked to set up the play for their agent Leslie Katz. In other words, they are lying. Paramilitary operations are not a whole school lesson justified by allegations of harassment which lack truthfulness and result in the murder of other innocent people, with deadly attacks on the maliciously accused. Ironically, their most powerful card is that the truth is unsayable, therefore they must be right. In other words, by reporting what they did and what it really means they automatically go free because no one dares question them on the basis of their real planning purposes. Police figure, if rock stars murder fans, so what, they are like moths getting incinerated by a candle. Further, these murderers did all this, by their claim, only after they announced that they represented Amnesty International.
What they settled on doing was licensing themselves for any holocaustal hate crime by snickering at least they didn’t give their victims HIV. That’s it. Raping, rippering, and throwing off buildings is mercy. If their victim tried to wear blue gloves in touching an infected person, they would get poison put in their mouths for offending the control tower. The murderers sneered that since they broadcast lies about me it was a form of recognition and I should have to die of AIDS for such recognition. They called it a Draft to mandatory sainthood, sneered that I am subordinate to their plans. That’s the reality of it. The movement: AIDS Stops With Me was set up by them to instruct their victims: AIDS Stops With You, never wanting it to stop, since they own the pharmaceuticals which make plenty of money for them, as well as the celebrity system who generate music for morale. They even told me privately the moralism is just for show, as well as for spite. The reason the AIDS attack itself, if you noticed, was so quadro-phonic is that multiple narrative houses were set up in advance.
When you look at the ways the Axis reasserted their power through Hollywood and the Red Scare after WW2, leading to the Right Wing overthrow of the Kennedy era, you have the semiotic indexicalities in many films. Hollywood double crossed us. The doublecross is even the key symbol passed between Paul Henreid and his Fr. resistance comrade. Vichy Fr. by the way got us into Vietnam. They were allies of Japan there. The seeming protagonist, with his Reaganesque doo, illustrated, as well as the Hitchcockian shadowplay, the double ingenuity at work in the Axis mastermind, Reagan's, head and it comes to light when you look at what Casablanca was, as presented to the American viewer. Casablanca was depicted as a turnstile of fate, where the roulette wheel of morality came down almost by whim, although there was a dour humanity to it, in favor of democratic sensibility, white chauvinism and all, slick even, catering to America's notion of morality while plotting a final downfall in revenge, with the patience of a rock tumbler in an English castle. Just an opinion, but heavily researched It’s an American favorite and set the stage for the doublecross that led to the rise of Axis America. Same thing happened to me. I fell for it, too. I don't think that Bogart knew. I don't think that Dooley Wilson knew. There were some Kennedy kids, like Steve McQueen who seem to have been on the level, but the fact is that the centerpiece of Orwell is LOVE. That's how Hollywood operates. King Edward loved Adolf Hitler. Hollywood was just a gun for hire. The Axis had the gold and Wall Street threw open its doors to King Edward, as well as the Rockefellers, shown to have helped set up the exampling of JFK.
It’s very dangerous for the rabid to come clean about their pretext: the letters about Lennon, because many adults have seen them and not been able to identify the problem, which means that they would have to allow the evidence that I was a battered child in trauma and work from there, which they have vowed never to do, and possibly committed murder to punish a professional who produced medical substantiation. It also would show they have been working all along with those who wrote the letters. Clearly then, Lennon has only been used for a decoy, and is only evoked to refract away from the truth about Mt. Desert Island, creating an artificial partnership between Lennon and those who they claim killed him, when, in reality, the art of Pentagon Disney which used a double to create this fantasy for the AIDS attack, which insiders were calling Clean Up Time, comes into evidence. Blacks like it because it means they can justify being bribed.
University of Washington took me prisoner by realizing no one was going to protect me, so they just lied to and about me. They poisoned me very infirm into a diabetic condition, and keep me very poor in public housing so that I cannot get away from their control in vivisection. Their willingness to poison me has grown very vulgar and they poisoned my mouth. My father Ryland was the radio room lieutenant on the USS San Jacinto with Bush and he became Chair of Philosophy for Education at the University of Pittsburgh. When I went deaf from serial kidnappings by men named the Pitmans, gassed and received the weird letters from Israel showing that Pitt’s Neurobehavioral Researcher William Wattenmaker had been behind the nerve agent force fed me as a crying hostage, seeing me hiding on the top shelf of the towel closet like Anne Frank, mother, Nancy Moore, something of an Oakie who didn’t like the Kennedys, did nothing but scream at me. In fact, she was more like one of the Pitmans, demanding a twenty I found at Joan Baez. The letters refer to That Was Then and This is Now, a book containing the line, “I just wanted to be sure that I hated you.” The sort of mind at work put out the twenty to watch the pretty little aristocrat boy want to keep it rather than donate it. It was torn from my hands and donated, just as the Pitmans continue to follow me through dacoit society in Seattle.
UW’s game is worked out with the British behind the letters. They say that the letters are being kept secret as Yoko Ono’s property through Warhol to prevent panic, but they were clearly a confession to the AIDS attack by Yoko Ono and her allies. The British say that they have the right to experimentally poison me with AIDS and that because they haven’t I have to be kept in isolation as a pawn in their program HIV Stops With Me. They are selling that they would get no cooperation otherwise without using the man who cudda saved John Lennon, which is a libelous voice-over, but it is their diversion idea to deter my research into the AIDS testing war game they used me for on Mt. Desert Island in 1988, rather obviously pre-planned. Further, UW authored a ripper homicide attack and threatened my family if I try to escape the British judgment. Her name was Shannon Harps, it was outside the clubhouse to which I was lured in 2001 from Pittsburgh with a fake promise for asylum and protection from ADWAS, abused deaf advocates who offered help only after my deaf advocate was raped by this gang who have authored multiple homicides under the direction of Amanda Harcourt of Peter Gabriel’s Real Worlds (NASA agent of the Crown). Deaf Chini did nothing wrong either.
Gabriel was waiting for the AIDS attack and all prepared, writing to me at Falk Medical Library in 1984 where the authors of Reagan’s FEMA program, Chancellor Posvar of Pitt, had me installed, snickering plans for a season of trucculent machines over the treason of succulent machines, and mind-reading bombings as therapy of arson. Youssou N’dour lay in wait to be uploaded to the defense of Mt. Desert Island and Gail Carolyn Burstyn, the homophonic name put on the letters from the beginning, which explained their reason for killing JFK. They spraypainted “I LOVE SIRA SIRAN” on my garage door nearby Cyril Wecht’s house in summer of 1966. I believe it was Niles Shortz. My mother must have been in on it. She was something of an Oakie. N’dour was an African Secret Service operator who subordinated me to the control tower who in Seattle run something like one of those old Christian Missionary Schools for Native Americans both in their programs around the city and terror attack organization’s hatred for me which comes out online anywhere I try to chat. They refuse the information and taunt me about things like the oral poison they used, daring me to come out.
I am categorically liberal humanist and they have targeted me for vivisection calling me the last one in their papers. Interestingly this damage to our national estate, my grandfather was an editor at St. Louis Post-Dispatch (I was a correspondent with Martha Gellhorn, close friend of Eleanor Roosevelt of whom we long had a family picture Ward took), is being authored by Disney Company itself, the founder of whom old Ward of St. Louis knew in passing. Ming Na Wen hustled the letters from my house through a Fox alien working with George Romero (where Spike Lee, their Confederate, indexes) who married into my house through my mother’s second husband, a member of the Catholic underworld who has contracted sex on me as a child. 1122, the date of JFK’s assassination doesn’t just mean the count up to King’s murder on 4/4, indexed to DD’s birthday (the Library of Congress classification for Nazi Germany, Neva Mancine’s sister) but also to spotlight 33 rpm, because Lennon and his death squad creating wife were in on this with Pentagon Disney, assigning a cover mission to DD as a 12 year old whose signifier 12 is the skybolt of Trump’s hand in Seattle Seahawks current.
Disney had me in D.C. (on the day in 1981 when Reagan claims he was shot) with a man name John Currant. They have claimed that such operations as Oliver Stone’s recent orchestration of nuclear war yammering through Russian back channels for Trump with North Korea are Operation Medicine Man, or the cure of rants that illustrate the closed house of the katz game. Such books as Smoke and Mirrors about the immigrant crisis are indexed to the name Katzmandela to show that the African Secret Service was in on it and that Obama was a diversion device and deal cut by the NAACP who targeted me at the next library position I held at CCAC for Stone when he worked on cure ranting for Wattenmaker, attacking me in an impacted neurological injury they knew was there and knew I didn’t. Dia Galas, whose namesake called me for Warhol on the night Lennon staged his disappearance to blame me as their fantasy diversion with the script from Neva Corporation, an Axis revenge plan Reagan devised with this failsafe screwballed into it, is photographed in Medicine Man outside the World Trade Center in New York with a stiletto. United We Fell. There is a lot that our historians have decided to ignore in allowing the Axis to steal the show.
The Green Party tortured me, killed my father, the documents are clear, raped my deaf advocate and now are going to kill me by cruel and unusual means. They have been ripper homicidalists intent on human sacrificialism, taunting me constantly online with things like, “trying to talk your way out of it queerball,” and cyber-tampering to leave their Arnie Sacnusums.
The case was multi-coded in criminal glee to watch authority deny rather than engage the enemy within. The code fest was dishonorably indexed to maniacal catcalls from a fiendish bank circuit hauling the slanders of paid attack prostitutes from Neva Corporation for the British, laughing if you get outta that you are Houdini the baby rabbit in the condom. It is sadistic impressario from a film squad that made things like Battle Royal and Audition. Beat Kitano is one of the mega-producers who have licensed references to me in his art, notably in Scene by the Sea, with a deaf boy wearing a shirt that says Pittsburgh. Gabriel, the NASA gaslighter from acid rock, used me on the song, That Voice Again. Oliver Stone is their insurance man, having hustled the bomb to Pyongyang, and printed me in both Cineaste Film Quarterly and Asian Cult Cinema magazines.
For these criminals, hailing in hypocrisy from the parochial underworld, my right to marry was considered war. Despite using symbols like SDS, the entire macabre political constituency in the Union never considered allowing me my rights as an America. Democracy and the right live in peace, marry and hold a job were out of the question. They attacked me sexually as a child, barbarically deafened me, and followed up with blackmail from a pedophile underworld, slasher murdering and threatening children if I didn’t answer their call for text in slave labors for Yoko Ono and Neva Corporation. I live as a slave to them. Death for resistance calls comes from superior faculty in the university system looking down on me in pornographic sociology. They have repeatedly told me that they will escalate pain and suffering if I do not preach forgiveness and love for the murderers who tortured me. They have cooed that they want me to give in so they can take me for their lover.
Paul Colaizzo, one of the professors proximate to the script, told me an existentialist story about a captive who bought time by telling what he thought was a fib about his comrades and gave them away by accident. Their thinking was clear in squeezing the amnesia trance and trauma for conscious contents at natural language research at CMU where the soiled doves of Neva were working holding me as a research guinea pig. The queerbait, they laughed, will be sarcastic about the idea that the murderers who held him hostage were his friends and this will ensnare him ever deeper in their plans. Despite the sponsorship of Ringo Starr and Warhol, the letters were never ambiguous about the decision to swallow their nerve agent, snickering in the text, “trying to deicide nearly killed me.” They nearly killed me force feeding me a nerve agent they then say I swallowed. Further, the text is all about human trafficking, scripted to the giggle of the rapist’s loins, “she gets bad headaches but she behaves better.” This is the beautiful mosaic Yoko Ono cackles about having adopted to free the people into her ensnare.
UW is now robbing someone they had castrated without trial or grounds to do so while tutoring me in the infinite capacity of the human species to adjust. I was recently given a very telltale story about a black Jefferson Davis who oh so thrillingly converted members of the KKK to give away their robes and join the human race, rather like Norman Schwarkopf calling his sister when the day was done. Only the pale, white, sissy deaf suck stands in their ways. A victim of their cannibalism rituals in wholistic medicine by symbolic vivisection has been ruled expendable to the use of the human form in the war art of Yoko Ono’s hillbilly estate.
AXIS America has stolen the show.