The United States of America, and our lives here together, has become a tragedy and a historic disgrace. The Attorney General for the great State of Pennsylvania, Kathleen Kane, was arrested and sent to prison. My letter today could be about me, and what befell me in Pittsburgh and Seattle, and carry the force of my theme, but it isn't today. What I mean to explain to anyone who will listen is about how our enemy within succeeded in the AIDS attack. It's easy to prove that AIDS was an attack. The evidence is clear and routine and I will rehearse a little of it to establish that sad fact for you, but it cannot be prosecuted or arrested because there is no legal fabric with which to do it. The problem isn't proving AIDS an attack and a crime, but rather it is a problem of public sentiment. It isn't an issue of National Security, but rather a problem of National maturity.
What first the newspaper establishment was able to pass off as an acid rock idea on Mt. Desert Island where Caspar Weinberger lived in 1988, a ghoulish entrapment operation surrounding high risk sex conducted by the Society for Human Ecology, which Peter Gabriel called "an Experience Park", was undermined for its alibi claim of being a response division taking sexual frustration out of me through the moneybag arrangements of corporate attorney Miles Kirshner, and a hired prostitute, Lisa Cassidy, with the follow up, violin-playing seductress Lisa Miles, over my unrequited romance with Leslie Sanetta Katz of Swarthmore. What happened to undermine this hard ball derision by the Reagan Administration and his agent Hillary Clinton was that their mechanic, Will Zell, had asked me in the Poconos in 1981 or early '82, before AIDS was known, "What would you think of a scheme to transform the human race by injecting the blood?" This poisoned their play for me, and he had the bad taste to confirm it by sending me a postcard about it, surrounding my name with positive and negative signs while working at Jackson Immunogenetic Laboratory as a mouse cage assembler who had made me the AIDS lab rat of choice. I was following them undercover and sought the evidence to prove their mission. Had this alone been broadcast for the facts of circumstances, it would have been enough to raise serious suspicions and provoke an investigation. The Maine State Police Office however refused me a polygraph. Martha Gellhorn, a famous journalist, was so alarmed she wrote me a long letter from Belize, and yet the Government of Iowa used extortion to take it from me and have it voided. Some said calmly this didn't prove anything, but the unraveling of the fraud didn't stop there.
More was to come. We were to learn before long that the entrapment operation wasn't really an Experience Park, it was a Eugenic War Game organized by the Japanese called Two Virgins Pussyball over Midori Goto, with the enlistment of the NAACP. The NAACP, with a conspiratorial laugh, snickered that here was the chapter where Jimmy Creary gets a royal delusion in the form of an attack prostitute from the men he trusted. Peter Gabriel arranged delivery of a virgin named Rosa with a sidekick named Evangelia Karmas, raping my best friend Jeannie Tamburro he announced as payback for the death of John Lennon, a script about which they had planted on my house. We were to learn that they had deeply impacted and implanted a nerve agent, and murdered Martin Luther King in the text of the plan as representative of the protection of virginity. Sean Lennon worked with a pornographic syndicate, NEVA, who had held me in hostage, tortured me as a child, while my own family looked on derisively, authoring deranged cover stories, with Lennon and his horde of fans claiming it was better to work with the company who the script says killed his father, because the money is good, than protect the generation his father set up from the AIDS attack. Entertainment, not justice, is the key.
There was a lot more, but proving AIDS was an attack was never a problem, the problem was always public sentiment. I'm in terrible condition from the sadism, torture and depravity that was visited upon me, but I'm in good shape to allow what needs to be understood. I don't have to hide anything or be ashamed, or plead privacy, which the syndicate of government to blame doesn't honor anyway. On Mt. Desert Island Don Denis left a message on my coat the night I erupted in scabies, "You want responsibility for this here, I jerk it back and pour it on you steaming, I hope it's enough." Not only was it not enough, but the fact that he is white says something to announce the source of the deceit whereby Africologists made me a disciple of black studies by inhuman mutilation practices towards me, calling it witchcraft and a sacrifice. It took true rapine on their part to stop themselves short of murder, not by pity. Judges and doctors don't just make mistakes, they commit malpractice and pass sentences based on their bigotry. Educators do no less, especially when they are organized by an insider cult of Armed Forces personnel with all sorts of tragic mental disturbances justifying their bullying, angry plans, and blood oaths out of court and off the record. Pitt, the University of Pittsburgh, saw a lot of action under the Reagan Administration, but they didn't need Oliver North's plan to suspend the U.S. Constitution, they had already seen to it.
The reason, in other words, that the AIDS attack was successful and cannot be prosecuted, and yet remains, still, so easily proven an attack, is that the crime was already solved before they did it, they knew exactly how they planned to proceed. They had first act, second act, and finale, the delivery of flowers and a Beatles' record, all planned and scripted. The Nazi pimps in office had in mind salacious transmission, a delusion for Jimmy Creary, a hired White House call girl to kiss me tightly, and bring envy to the eyes of Robert Redford and Charles Bronson, for a tender moment in the showdown before hand to hand fighting with Donald Trump. Miles was given the sacred union badge of hooligan, while miles was penned as a pun measuring road usage as Rita the Meter Maid and hooker accountant arrived on a white pony for Obama the Pure, calling dibs on Midori Goto from WQED, house of child molesters, one upon a time. The British want us to obsess on their clever crime, fear the primal screams of North Korea whipped up by Brian Eno's conductor baton in fake news, their psychotic obsession and targetting feuled by manufacture and blame to service the enemy. The symbolic heist was called a fair trade because of my value as a symbol of liberal America and the furious degradation visited upon me as disgrace which these ravenous fiends announced to be a rescue, torture as amelioration of the bad faith in the foul hearts of HitlerReagan and Ringo Starr.
Hitler as Shakespearean interest when the deed doesn't matter anymore allows the authors confiscation rights not because the case isn't proven but because public sentiment was on the side of salacious transmission, the parochial agitator lisping over the tang of garlic breath allows the decriminalization of obstruction and the morale of the fable: had it coming.
James MacRyland Crary, a Pennsylvania Governors School poet, and Honors Scholar at the Community College of Allegheny County, is the son of Ryland Wesley Crary, Naval Lieutenant of the San Jacinto, Bush's ship in World War Two. Ryland was Chair of Philosophy of Education at the University of Pittsburgh where James worked at the Falk Medical Library during the Posvar Administration who wrote the Federal Emergency Management Agency program for HitlerReagan and summoned James to work for James W. Child of the Iceland Nuclear Debate team when Child was visiting Pitt as a Philosophy Fellow.
I am dealing with the criminally insane and plead with you for prompt and meaningful humanitarian intervention.