Joe Kennedy is in trouble because he has to survive in the palace of Oz we now call Pentagon Disney with all its swashbuckling masquerade and masked assassins traveling over the rooftop with Chinese slippers and daggers. In this funhouse he too risks masquerade. It may seem that John Fitzgerald Kennedy stood alone, what with the way Neo-liberals have abandoned ship, but he did not. On television in those days were such programs as Gunsmoke and Bonanza, morally edifying entertainment. The problem was realized by the Hollywood underworld: he who kills the Marshall kills the law, a point they made in advance by the film High Noon.
Joe Kennedy is in a fix. We want him to survive so badly we won’t let him lead and even if we did he probably would refuse. One safe assumption is that the Neo-Liberal confederacy as a party feature of the post-Trump age to come is also the overpowering structure that delivered for Obama the AIDS attack as a fait accompli. "John John" Kennedy fell in that war game operation. It looked very clearly to have been part of the Kahane-style sector of the JDL at work from my cafe seat in Pittsburgh, since they were active following me after slander and torture, while the plane washed up where the Burstyn letters originated; quite a Secret Service wonder world. This isn’t meant to be a philippic against the poor man. I’m just crossing the Joe Kennedy bridge because it has to be done and because the fait accompli which controls and directs party unity from the Clinton past, what you might called the Elizabeth Warren Report, is as fraudulent and distorted as Robert Penn Warren’s All the King’s Men and, oh, what was that other one? Nevermind, guess I forget.
In being forced to deal with the fact that the Kennedy syndicate as it now exists went along with what happened, and holding out hope they can reform with knowledge, I am forced to break ranks and question whether it is possible to politically support a Kennedy after the AIDS attack. In order to see why you need to see what it is they have gone along with. To their eye, CCAC, the Community College of Allegheny County, made me, James MacRyland Crary, at best a tool of eccentrics. On one level, that’s fine, I don’t approve of my victimization being turned into a political art form, on the level of sheer suffering, however, if they went along with me, they owe me, and the minimum I require is the right to testify, which no one has the right to withhold or punish. To see how the right to give proper witness is withheld, you arrive at a foundational crux of what the Kennedy dynasty went along with or ignored.
One of the obvious issues with Joe Kennedy, being as young as he is, is that he is well within the Beatles Section bracket for advancement by coterie. That’s a Kennedy pastiche for him looking back at JFK flirtations with Sinatra company. The Beatles may be criminal and morbid, but their media machine is still around in Rockefeller Plaza. Eno’s Euros have sold this albatross and want it finished to the tune of their pop art killing spree. So much went on in Pittsburgh you cannot escape the signboards of Warhol. But how in the world did they get away with doing something this disturbing?
One reason Gunsmoke was so All-American for the good guys in our society is that the Marshall was constantly confronted with the will and preference of a mob scene and he had to face it down in the name of the Law. In American politics the idea that Lawmakers would face down a mob scene in the name of the Law is absurdist. The whole point of the way they lie is to let the mob win. Even in assassination there are market forces to reckon. Explaining how horrible what was done to me was takes work, but it is well worth it to do it so that the sinister situation can be found out by what remains of the Ponderosa family.
Even without the neuro-trauma, sira-siran nerve agent, and terrible ordeal of homelessness in seizures, it seems to me very tenuous to believe that the signs of purposeful miseducation could be missed, lost on anyone, or hotwired in some ideological and illogical way for representation as delinquency in what Sen. Arlen Spector would call "a notch baby" situation, meaning I fell through the cracks, lack definition and have been ordered by Law to live with it, in my case as a representative symbol to others who have it worse or else I will take the dregs of more to come. This is a form of subordination and since government is accustomed to subordinating people they don’t see anything wrong with it.
The commonsense monitor’s suggestion that I don’t speak when I am sick ignores cognizance about the hellish bargain of the doublecross that England wangled. They squoze the neuroplasm under deadly ultimatum. It caused the situation where the Marshall cannot swing public sympathy. This being about the Law has meant nothing when it comes to dealing the power of the elite in the Eno Euro battalion and Rockefeller Plaza. That fact speaks volumes about the fait accompli of the Neo-Liberal enterprise and the crime team on high committing sacrilege against our faith. Kennedy in that sense has left the set of Gunsmoke and walked off into the desert of popularity.
What was done to me in Pittsburgh would have made instant sense to anyone in Pittsburgh who wasn’t either stupid or playing a war game for their Iron Cross. The lousiest dirty trick ever played came from Ringo Starr, and I don’t just mean betraying me by my love for King Crimson, which they have used to brutally torture me. They impacted a nerve agent and demanded it be allowed to play through the vocal centers to see their victim hang himself by experimental neurology. How a person reliving child abduction at 2 in the morning, homeless, screaming in migraines and seizures, drenched in the cold rain, could be misrepresented by Pittsburgh Courier as confessing or represented for evil sarcasm when they vomit and screamed the sort anguishing derision you would find on the lips of a ripper victim gives rise to the bully framework for exploitation they planned all along. Arranged to be viewed through the peep lens of Andrea Swimmer, the pornographic corporation made deadly all memory of landscape. It’s not a matter of consistency, the Jewish neighborhood in question used to call my sister a shiska to my face. This is about the epic form of torture they used for an offshoot of Last House on the Left.
The standard of honesty in Wilma Coon’s claims to be supportive as a co-worker of my desire to marry are brought to the table with the bizarre claim she made that I was threatening one of the Kennedys. They weren't finished by any means. Despite this pattern of truly deranged hoodwinking, everyone sided with them for the party line. They made it about property squozen from the matter spattered on the sidewalk by those working the tumblers for Cirque d’Imbecile: holy vomit of Yoko Ono. The class struggle is a weapon of internal bullydom, a drama of psychological dynamics, and the perpetrators in this case violate routinely the first injunction of Herbert Agar that politics, once obscure, become dishonest. They won’t debate publicly because of what their slanders contain, because of what their pretexts reveal. Meanwhile, they laugh that the puppets marching for no reason have been successfully played by their strings for a viperous Elect sneering a wise jest.