Just as it is very difficult to find the real Huey Long not only from his legend in history books, but more importantly his folklore place in the fictional creation about him by Robert Penn Warren (who an FBI agent recommended to me) so it is also very difficult to find the real Pittsburgh, if there is one, from the chauvinist provincial legend created by Teamsters, Charles Kirshner and Sons, MisterRogers and Ralph Proctor’s concerns at Mellon Bank and downtown, a virtual confederacy who came after me with powerhouse ripper hatters from London when I tried to get help from domestic terror that left me maimed. Abusing my name became a permanent fixture on their interpretation of reality. Similarly, women on campus, many of them students, claiming to be upholding a school honor code bent over backwards and forwards looking to learn absolutely everything there is to know about me except American Sign Language, what you might call a small oversight, given that I am a deaf man. A certain Grace couldn’t have been bothered with understanding what I’d gone through in seizures from torture homeless or why I would be so touched when she treated me with a soft hand at our honors ceremony. Instead, she immediately took to the accusers’ pose over a quatrain (a poetic stanza) of no rude language or intent, in a doomed effort to rescue Peter Gabriel’s attorney Amanda Harcourt from child rape charges, a ripper hatter unleashed on me who suffers from extremely severe hate control problems, a woman not only discredited but a suspect working with the above mentions to render violent accusations as a defense forum to scare off inquiry of a rational nature, after contracting an attack prostitute named Rosa to astound the City of Pittsburgh with her titanic bosom while leaving me in seizures from a brutal assault.
Certainly you have had occasion to have seen two hotheads filled with hot air face it off in an argument they construed as debate, possibly in school, a bar, on a blind double date, a social gathering, maybe even on national TV and more or less after the first exchange you have rolled your eyes in disbelief, having it register at once that neither person has the slightest self-awareness, understands how obvious their lack of knowledge is, can restrain the juvenile bully in their shouting match, as you note with greater and greater exasperation and fatigue that it illustrates the hopeless condition of our society’s social thought, sad, when not manic, and while consoling yourself that they are typical, bracing up, admitting them obnoxious, scary like Trump, but pitiful in a fraternal way that moves you to try and side with one of them, agree to their bumpersticker head pronouncements and announce them individualists whom the people should labor to emulate. However you size it up, the unbelievable stupidity comes back to haunt you in a contemplative moment, perhaps.
There you have in a finite nutshell the brilliants of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Not only are they out of their depths in the most elementary exchange of courtesies, but they cannot think their way out of a paper bag, in fact they will labor with unending dissertation as to why a paper bag over their head is as grueling a matter for puzzlement as the legendary Minotaur’s labyrinth. I reported and reported and reported kidnapping and torture, and the question they asked over and over again was why didn’t you report this? In a nation of Ivy League schools, quality community colleges, detective novels galore, spy films, and super-surveillance cranks operating out of motorhead garages, the cowardly and droning, the dissembling and out of focus meandering of the untouchables is shocking and in all due reverence I hold them in awe. Vomitbag incompetence on that level genuinely takes work even to accept much less to achieve, but I guess recording such a convincing legacy of insouciance has some magma to it in terms of being a reflux belch of civil witness. Having nowhere to turn at least saves you the trouble of betting to lose.
The first time I had dealings with the FBI was not especially provocative, although I am sure that if you trigger them they are a nuisance. An agent came to school after I put their establishment in the headline of our newspaper The Allegheny View to underscore the indexes I found between bully parochials Greg Karl and Robert Fripp after truly horrible events on Mt. Desert Island to ask me if I thought they, too, were involved. I answered very truthfully that it hadn’t crossed my mind, but I wondered at her defensiveness, took it for her youth and inexperience but a crack formed after a bit in the sense of the prospect that I was dealing with eggheads.
Admittedly it is important for such a profession to stay grounded. It isn’t exactly Math Trek. You can’t expect their thinking processes to boldly go where no mind has gone before but is it too much to ask, really, that they not bugeye off-topic or start going, “Woo-woo!” like the imbecile son of the concierge who likes to hide outside the showers?
I realize we do not have a society of laws or anything you would take for humane norms, there is no place to write a letter of complaint when you feel you have been done a disservice, nor anything that could by any vain description be construed for pursuit of justice, that’s out of the question and I have stopped letting it bother me since I am old man whose work is important, but they are, in point of fact, an office that is law enforcement-related, which is to say the idea of it at least signs their paychecks, and this retards me a little in the way that some paradoxes are like tables that sit unevenly on their feet. They come across as rickety and chronically spill the coffee no matter how canny and aware of their deficiency you may be. The FBI are one of the world’s minorities. I owe them some civility, I grant you that. I have no doubt they work hard, but when a minority does not want to be looked at and talked about in a very general way why do they actively labor to behave like mindless pack animals on important occasions when it is expected of them apparently from each other no matter how stunning it makes them to behold? This is equally true of women and blacks in the conspicuous and right minded sense of in your face politics they advance, and that fact is relevant in what collegiate women have done to me with the blessings of the criminally insane on high, in prominent profession and offices.
Is it not teleologically unthinkable that black people would say where Martin Luther King’s name was at stake the case was going to demand non-corrupt attention, meaningful and useful intervention, a high standard of fairness and honesty, generosity of spirit and circumspection, but it factually did not happen that way. Instead black power stepped on narrative fact, destroyed evidence, promoted ideology, terrorized freedom of the press, blackmailed from Hollywood, wiped their feet on human rights, laughed and sneered at civil rights, practicing goblin tactics of slander conjoined with genuinely depraved missions of police brutality from the military no less against the infirm and helpless, rule of law meant nothing, it was impossible and remains impossible to predict what is next, and since that is the end of the matter it has to be reported faithfully in that way. They have damaged themselves. No one provoked it and no one asked them to do it, to the contrary, the door was open to much more humane dealings.
The students play like: should we vote for this oldster in our midst, when in point of practice, fact and reality I want to be left alone. They inducted me into the Honors Society with some degree of fiendish delight knowing that I had been banned from Seattle Central and that they are genuinely intelligent, gifted and honest people in a position to take a stand in my protection as a persecuted individual, but I am much too acquainted with the particulars of how such cults as UW operate, profoundly overbearing in a small school, to be optimistic and I am not out soliciting anyone’s good vibrations except maybe Elizabeth’s, who I think it very obviously a little bit different in that the mind and its workings in language intrigues her, a good reason to acquaint with me. It is genuinely hard to believe the truly deranged and abnormal degree of brutality, false witness and vulgar attack authored by Penis Gabriel, The University of Pittsburgh and Seattle times past, and reckoning that would make a savant out of any luminary in a two-year school, so she could just as easily be quietly asked to leave me alone and no problem. Even in the military subordination doesn’t translate into right to abuse but the sight of mega-humiliation somehow brings out this traumatizing sadism everywhere it is exposed. Even though it is impossible to imagine what sort of warped idea of honor code the women of my old school could entertain by their vicious attack on a targetted neurological injury, the fact that they have so much to cover for is now paralyzing to their ability to summon a motive for humanitarian intervention against ripper mayhem.
The FBI and school allowed a foreign gang, proven dangerous by their bedlam, to illegally tape me, offer no defense against misrepresentation of their sound effects, cut and pasted tactically for maximum derision, while braying all over creation that they have caught a fish. Further the story of Leslie Katz was guaranteed to make a collegiate sorority wannabe squint at the sex inadequate and say okay go ahead and castrate him and rape his deaf advocate, both of which they did, but a social agency, under law, should have been asked before getting all worked up about my focus and pummeling it into their liking whether anyone had ever even tried to teach me sign language. When I asked to be considered for the school for the deaf in high school I was shut down.
Everyone knows now, because I’m not locked up for saying it, that the Beatles were behind it, and while our society has many defenses against my proof that Lennon wrote the Burstyn script and a double was used the night they say he died, the Beatles were absolutely ruthless to those they misled, like the sickest and most bloodthirsty vampires they sucked and sucked at bad faith spitting out lies after lies yet called their atrocity medicine. This is true no matter whether you believe me or them. The abuse and contempt they felt was their due testified to a dark age of Europe when peasants were stoned, called serfs and raped.
Gail Burstyn, the author of Lennon’s script for which I was maliciously blamed, was “Her Majesty”’s emissary paid to hint at me in the same tone as Bowie what Diamond Dogs was really about and then to work with the Magistrate at whose house I was introduced to her on the Huey Long problem of City of Pittsburgh’s lofty, legendary, braindead reputation as the kings of so what who’s gonna tell me better? The Beatles worked with them to come around collecting on their monetary investments of a Hammerhead Shark independent studio iimaginary cause for a paranormal and abominable misadventure. The blacks sided with Bowie in return for a tip of the hat from King Edward and Fripp after he and his Ostro scene (in which Midori’s claim to a broken heart provided lead propaganda value) killed Martin Luther King for DeNiro’s movie rights and the DD poison made its round. The Beatles are primary signatories of the AIDS attack, they threw the whole weight of 007 and progrock behind the filthy atrocity proudly as a lobby. Murder can’t be assuaged by legal philosophy but it is still a shame when the legal system allows it to get the last word as though a point of pride.
In raising the question of whether the way the evidence circumscribing Carousel Club, Neva Corporation, Two Virgins Pussyball (Capitol Records was in Dallas) the script, Donald Trump and Mt. Desert Island, the United Artists coalition denying the evidence they failed to destroy have announced that failure to warn was nothing but Art for Art’s Sake by the makers of “All the King’s Men.” The fact that cold-blooded entrapment lay in wait from fornicating poachers among the women at my school, should have been noticed by critical, incisive, and truthful review. I’m a decent human being. I never hurt anyone, went straight to police when I saw what was going on, and deny wrongdoing.