On my first day of class with Dr. Proctor on my arrival back at school in Summer of 2014 for a course on Understanding Violence, I had in my notebook all typed up (with apprehensions about sharing) a poem denouncing white racism by throwing their stereotypes and cruel caricature back at them called:  The Ape Men.  Dr. Proctor in his opening sermon mentioned how white bigots called blacks "monkeys."  The class noticed my angry shuffling of papers but I stopped myself from sharing.  I already knew three facts:  1.  Dr. Proctor (of Pitt Chancellor Wesley Posvar's office and W-QE-D) is probably someone who attacked me without knowing me in the past because of my public reputation and its utility to a murder cartel,a war on my name circulated by dishonest people who held me back by making me deaf that served the purposes of Pitt Administration on the highest symbolic and ideological Administrative level, at attack shown to have been authored by the AIDS Combein.  Pittsburgh leaders were embittered by my attempts to warn which they denounced as upstaging the mighty.  2.  That the sentiment and procedure of Stokely Carmichael militarizing SNCC while summarily throwing out all whites was a statement about the function for which I have been entrapped and tagged.  It wasn't going to do any good at all to try and humanize myself in a war game worse than Kent State among Faculty and Staff at school who are involved in the torture and murder of students.  3.  It is very dangerous to seek vindication from persons embarrassed by the truth.


      I am in a deathly state from torture, scientifically banish to a condition of grave and faded pseudo-existence.  The assassin group won handily.  Taunting me with the hegemony of perverts, their horrible murder cannot be undone.  Maniacally regarding my last writings as part of the survivor's pirate chest, they engaged in brutal abuse of the little guy in order make a dramatic grab on their spoils of deceit.  Looking at ghouls like Aaron Dixon's sponsors we arrive at far more powerful and violent whites than my poor father was.  Dixon, demented with his attacks on a symbolic white liberal, who they fiendishly rendered into neurotraumatic hostage to punish a branch of educator who hold back Black militancy by subjecting their harangues to academic scrutiny while fighting for more valid advancement plans, Dixon showed the meaning of his name, in alliance with the caustic aggression that extremes generate to polarize and feed each other.  No black he had helped made no comment when virulent white parochials graffiti'd my father's obituary with the hostility and plot line of his murderers in the so-called Green Party.  Meanwhile, the virulent racist Mr. Douglas, whose son was a close friend of Matt Marcus, sneered openly, "if you try to help blacks they will only turn on you."  I was the object lesson of their demonstration project of this principle.


        What they are doing is difficult to write about because of how loathsome the University of Pittsburgh is.  The shock of having to bear witness in such a climate to the prancing of exterminators and their Black allies is vile beyond endurance.


        The arguments, although tedious lies, are the voice of the lameheads, voting Trump, shrieking their sacred wisdom from a cabal of ugly cunning, as they regurgitate dumbed down programs uploaded by the assassins into their media.  Knowing better than them makes their black ghouls howl with rage.  They never warned because a flock of deadly and deluded victims was more to their purpose than saving to them insignificant lives.  By contrast my people just want to understand what's going on.  It's not on the quisling agenda to investigate properly.  They don't want hidden narrative unearthed.  In daring me to enter into open confrontation they mock personal injury from an illegal Death Row contrived against a white innocent as such on purpose, while strutting their bizarre and fraudulent explanations and formulas, using name agents, while categorically denying it can even be done, using lookalikes to prove that fear of agency is a greater poison that poison real, scrawling idiotic slanders between the lines of their purported misreads, attacking a damaged, hostage child with so much venom and glee that one can scarcely consider them human.  All most logical, all most logical (ripper backstabber).


        The cowardly and vile attacks on a damaged, hostage child are enough to show they are simpletons shrugging off murder as a cowardly act in the course of duty.   African Justice gets bandied at our school.  None dare call it CIA.  Before I tell you what that business means, I will describe a little about the hidden expenditure behind their hidden narrative which they do not want found out.


       At the Iowa YMCA when I was suffering seizures, the cloak and dagger show of the rock industry tried to drive me off the sidewalks by first trying to make me look soft on marijuana and then sending a skinhead to kick me in the shin for trying to stop the vice upload being used by character assassins to justify Mt. Desert Island.  Now what African Justice means is a tendril of the Federal Emergency Management Agency which was created for the AIDS attack.  AIDS was what they are calling, "African Justice," and their script defines me as the hate object proving its virtue.


       Where exactly did I get the final enigma as a deathly object of peer rejection?  Matt Marcus, a lover of my sister who was introduced to me by Leslie Katz.  He helped W-QE-D spread the word in the name of Jewish slurs.  Not one word about his true character was ever deemed admissible.  Was Fred Rogers a jealous god?  His church (where my mother married a Reagan agent from 20th Century Fox) were not only employers of felons who tortured me, my mother had a mysterious talk with him in my presence when I was a child and he looked at me and ran like I was the spawn of the devil.  This was outside the Mason or Manson Lodge in Oakland.  Leonard Nimoy also used to haunt the area around his church.


        Pitt of course was adopted for pit of hell, a tune King Crimson gets away with playing when defending child mutilation because their fan club regard them as pre-eminent Royal Satanists, protecting Leslie Katz of course from the piercing cries of devil Jimmy.  The blacks have always had in mind a select survivors' pirate chest making clear that the NAACP are at least as dangerous to the Tutsis as the Hutus are.


       Just as Brian Eno smashed the World Series hopes of the Mariners in 2001, right on cue, to promote perverts behind the AIDS attack, and the ravenous flock of deadly and infected fans yammering dibs on the chest of Katz Business School, perverts entrenched among vicious Seattle queerdom, so too did the murderers use my naïve ideas about the horror crone Midori Goto and her shrewd manipulation by New York media of Pittsburgh's better loyalty to Roberto Clemente to gear up his name as a symbol of child rape, myuh.  They poisoned me instead in bizarre, Black ghoulish script fulfillment of deadly torment and sadistic murder.  I had done no research yet into the alliance of Lennon's powerhouse with NEVA Corporation or the pretzel logic of their thrill kill extermination. 


       I now know what the evidence means, and what sort of powers exist to execute their presentation while making their potentialities seem impossible, a magical mystery war game.  After Love Field when the Beatles were uploaded in partnership with Kennedy's killers, the Churchill faction behind the AIDS attack producing the church ill in cowardly foreign English puncraepft and cunning, used their line, "I'd love to turn you on," to promote the twisted deceit by their brainiac broadcast propaganda media that super murder religion, a perfectly openly espoused HitlerJesus Church of England progrock who called mass murder by the name of LIberation Theology seeing themselves entitled to put a battered child's soul on trial, they moved to burn the inner mind with NASA laser, as proof that they would never do that because it can never be done.


       Thewarp of Ayn Rand racial White House pussyball by unidentified registered nurse war-criminal malpractice on a golem forbidden American Sign Language was paraded as punishment of a jealous schizophrenia.  The denial that the neuroplasm they impacted had pre-meditation and personality change in its chemical recipe just shows you that Edgar Snively will say any lie to keep the bar against pink marriage.


       What do they plan for my last egg?  Another throat cut in the wild woods of the Wheeler deal?


Free Writing Revisited

John Stockwell of the CIA cased me to Allentown on the heels of the Wall Street Crash on my birthday in 1987 and made clear, by underlining the date, I was wh...y he was there.

That's neat, but when the Svengali pendulum begins swaying, be prepared to look into their eyes and fall asleep.

Stockwell's name appears on the Board of the Society of Human Ecology, a group named as a CIA affiliate in the book: Acid Dreams. The S.H.E. operated on Mt. Desert Island where Caspar Weinberger lived, with the help of Will Zell, in Fripp's Gurdjieff Cult, then at Jackson Immunogenetic. When they arranged the game of chicken for Koop around AIDS, Real Worlds knew that Zell lived with Jon Archer and what they planned. It was a British right wing selective eugenic promotion of Royal Black tokens, a vicious Rwanda promoting Youssou N'dour as the Palace Idi Amin and Barack Obama, lead man of the White House Ayn Rand pussyball heist designed by Kennedy's killers in Japan's Hollywood for Reagan, Lennon, Brando and Jagger. To make the exchange for SWAPO, they set me up at PITT with Alpana through United Bible Fellowship (UBF) who also produced Mi Yung Joo (me young Jew) and Marilyn M. (Mueller) of 444 Dearborn Street, Chicago. The Graham Foundation had lewdly molested me as a child with the help of Braunstein, Swimmer and Ostro. Then Jamie Carbonell, Stuart Sheppard (who attended the church of Shawn Brooks, a boy who refused to call police when I came in crying from a gang led by Randy McCormick that assembled on the church lawn ~ he forced me to leave the church where they waited) and Peter Leo worked with Brian Milnes, a friend of Leslie Katz, Peter Shell and Andrea Swimmer to extrude the carrot tape they had implanted in neuroplastic/natural language prompter hypnosis, while I was under extremely cruel holocaust hypnosis, catatonically carving dry wall triangles in Saul and Lou Brecher's closet. Lube Wrecker and Me Shall Lubin (Michelle Lubin) are typical Jewish puns in the pussyball heist. John Stockwell is a sniggertrance monologuist from the National Security Council. He said that the Secret Service didn't have to do anything to help the killers slay JFK. They just had to let their guard down and do nothing actively enough to let it happen. By putting the scenario they developed into arcana, failure to evaluation them is all it takes to let them operate openly. After all, attempts to understand prove mental illness, which leads to stigma, which in turns allows them their AIDS war game.

Greg Karl wrote, “the dialectic is established at the outset,” to use the words of King Crimson's song about the vivisection, “paranoia and poison”; a forensic dialectic that Zell/Karl man Mike McGarvey called, “pigment and figment.” The pigs arrested me for reporting this and pushed me into the psychiatric chamber of Wattenmaker after attacking me brutally in an impacted neuroplasm they knew was there when I didn't. With the help of Black co-workers TL and WC (the initials of Tony Levin and the Women's Center) Terry Ledbetter and Wilma Coon (Terri Visco being the name of the carrot girl, a partner of Swimmer, Mancine and Ostro), Rosine Monteleone, working for Obama, took the symbolic institution, PITT, away from my fathter, who Leo's faction murdered and put on trial as a Red Witch in public for the State of Pennsylvania's godlaw forces, who use anti-abortion sentiments to their advantage, and promote mandatory miscegenation war games with Penis Gabriel as an alternative, pro-Black explanation for Mt. Desert Island. Crowing that ALL of society support the seven foot tall Schugar Bear who demanded the right to sleep in our house before we moved in or he would murder me (Schugar is the name of a funeral parlor), in his overlord affidavit concerning the affair of Leni and Duzzledorf that Leni Stahl, M. Stahl and Les used to stahl investigation for Handy Andy Swimmer, somewhere Sound of Gaspar. They call this tabloid: Abolishing Domestic Apartheid.

This hemorrague of evil is what it means to say: The spirit world is an occupied zone. After engineering the Kelly School incident for Caliban Books of Celeron Street and Ming Na Wen, fascist Tom O'Connor jeered me, wrapping his legs around me, throwing me to the floor and screaming in my pre-seizure head, “you work like a nigger Crary,” (which I took for a compliment, thank you) “Crary thinks he solved the riddle, hahaha, there is no riddle, Crary.” Kelly School, by the way, is the situation that proves how much Mickey Obama really cares about the Black children she betrayed.

To understand where this is leading, which is nowhere, you have to understand the Union switch and signal denials that came my way in class this holiday where I was planned assigned, “Outside the Law,” about the Red Hand of France in their war on Algerian Independence agents, the war criminal nature of those agents, and also, “Flight of the Red Balloon,” about a boy being followed by a Red Balloon, something like a moon shadow. Professor Nott insisted this was not sympathy for Algeria or a statement about what just happened in Paris. Not to be taken for syncopation, no sir. His affiliation with Pittsburgh Film Makers doesn't mean that Joel Caplan and Claire filmed the sex with Rosa for Penis Sinfield, sold De De Mancine's tawdry child pornography stories, nor in any way participated in the rotten scam with Kathee DiPietro that orchestrated deaf Jeannie's rape. No, sir. When Randy Tantliger kicked my door down with agents from Gibsonia animal testing and Jack Karns to poison my liver and stomach, Pitt Football wasn't enforcing no pussyball for Steve Hawking, even if Jack Karns was at Administration of Justice, no, sir. When the Defiant Trespass charge and Len, “stop getting the male,” put me into seizures of neurohypnosis, it wasn't to justify chemical castration at Harborview, man does that paranoia ever get outta hand. Finding two packs left by a Black man James Green in my mailbox (who was shot in the leg) before Tupac was killed, and then two packs and a gunsmoke pack just after, isn't related to the woman who opens my boxes in the apartment building that come in the mail, the postal workers union of Ralph Proctor, the Black Panthers who sent me a bagel knife tube on the even of the Shannon Harps slay, anymore than Terri and Wilma were making fun of the white who protested apartheid. In reality, the godlaw advocates are in fact enforcers for the proclamation that the script of Gail Burstyn was faithfully not about them, and not about those who started AIDS, but rather about Jimmy Creary and the right to kill the victims. This is about the insane White House Ayn Rand Liars' Club and their authority to do symbolic murder, syphilis sacrificialism.

They are counting on being perceived and unreported. They have in fact used being reported as a medium for symbolic bombings knowing it will be denied. This is why they have called me such things as “the navigator”. They soothsay that if'n a person gets fed up, and has to lash out, then Ringo's foaming beard will do it, will really do it, and the slay will calm the rotter nerves of the AIDS fairies as they contemplate again the slasher blade and the injection needle, to the syphilis of Pener Gabriel.

Todd Kaufmann used to talk like Pee Wee Herman to pre-seizure Jimmy Creary. Nott said a woman who looks like my mother in a film looks like Pee Wee Herman and laughed when I confirmed it with a photo of Nancy as a child.

The North Dixon alliance working with Yoko Ono and David Geffen who Silverblatted my grandfather Ward's newspaper friends into confederacy by surrender to pedophile blackmail, are counting on Black rage, manufactured by Obama and Graham with Alpana, to police the sidewalks with murder against being released, in senior citizenship, from a police pornographer trafficking syndicate who earmarked me in a lifelong operation of sexploitation by persona, lie after lie. They rape and murder by Alia for the Supreme Court S.C.alia in a Taliban from Caliban called Evangelia Karmas. What's the charge? Cudda saved John Lennon.

It worked. Pink Floyd said you can say anything to their face because words are acceptable, except the truth about Leslie Katz, and if they spit on you in answer, well-luh, that's catharsis.

All you have to do is nothing, and if you make a move, they are ahead of your anyway at M.I.T.

The person who has done the most for those who framed me for armed robbery, led by Edelstein, Tive and Thornburg, is Tony Levin. Edelstein's friend Cheryl Levin, Bob Toth's girlfriend, is pronounced share ill levin. Your all leave'n for Levin. He will orchestrate your pain. He will lie for Will Zell. He will break your balls for Leslie Sanetta of Santorum for the sanitation worker killers of Martin Luther King, in a syphilitic jest for High Dauphin Eno of Ken Russell's Foucault circle, and Jim Marrs will say, hehn, just hehn, because Jimmy Creary was a Manchurian Candidate B.F. Skinner'd to JAV spoil Midori “Go/To” green hell. In the widget mind world of Reagan, Jim Marrs holds the hammer for grandpa, hit him again Grandpa. No one will escape the Marrs Texas chainsaw, certainly not by turning to child raping Amnesty International.

Of course now that Aung San is in power we'll have to fight dirty again. Islamofascists in the AIDS Combine just want peace. They will shoot up Paris kids for after the Louis Letos give them weapons, and Dr. Frances Cress Welsing sanctifies symbolic methods for Mrs. Yoko Ono, the honorary a Black Woman of Hillary Clinton's funhouse.

It's this sort of thing that make me look at the death of Dean Tierno when little Jimmy Creary was in the door on the floor in a paper bag, inundated with letters from “white witches” named Barbaras Starr and Davis.

See the doctor, just say, “ah ah ah.”

There's nothing to it.

What about grandma surrounded by Mehta and Butcher Singer!

Take your medicine, queerbait, or Leonard Price will call you Yeshiva Van Gogh! You blinked hahahaha, that means Linda Rosen, bud.