If you are involved in liberal American academics, you have heard by now stories from Muslim countries where a man divorces his wife after she is raped. Most of us find this conduct reprehensible and unforgivable; however, in the United States of America what women who have dated me and even those who know me have done and are doing is much, much worse. The purpose of this letter, written at home in Tacoma, Thursday July 8, 2017 is to explore a number of aspects of the terror lobby responsible for a lifelong, cradle to grave program of murder for profit they are calling a prank and the complicity of peers. In so doing I will refer to years of humiliation upon humiliation heaped on my name and person by depraved, sadistic personality cult figures who have been riding me to cover for those who subject me to vivisection and mutilation. For them, slander is so valuable, they are willing to sponsor manufacture of spy camera sex footage through intimate deception and home invasion, masquerading as recovery and friendship.
Extremely vicious perverts have put into play that the reason I have been quarantined and alone for 25 years is that women as a hive deplore my mannerisms and believe they see the signs of legitimacy in the most depraved rumors that were put into play by the FBI and Veterans Administration, namely that I have pedophile tendencies. This is analogous to raping someone. It means the ultimate horror and degradation. To even admit it has been said about you is a death sentence in roughneck America. I am going to present some of the evidence of how this noxious depravity is rooted and what it says about Seattle particularly that they went along with it. I do not feel I owe thanks to the people who tipped me off to a few of the evidentiary items because they did it to demand further humiliation to their gratification, not to help me represent a crime of insane proportions, a fact I will explore in this letter, as well. Their goal is to finalize the achievement of a holocaust in the name of fact-finding. What they tried to do is even worse.
The evidence for how I was put into shock as a hostage child and a neurotoxin poured into the shocked hole that Pittsburgh society was sure would create a pedophile through coma-induction and Wattenmaker's Frankenstein experimentation as an object lesson is widespread through the roots of the abomination in Pittsburgh society. Logic isn't really their strong point, only making sure people accept them, or else. Steve Langer wrote, "I'm not sorry for anything I did only that it had to be you." I think, more precisely, that it had to be my father, Chair of Philosophy of Education, because much of the hostility behind the abomination was directed in rage at my father's ...white... achievements by unethical rivals, notoriously in the Pittsburgh NAACP. Nothing turned them on like the prospect of hunting down a white pedophile who insulted Obama.
The evidence for meditation in a Nazi manufacture is so psychotic that the mind shatters upon encounter, but there is a license for it as well, a context in which the dementia of evil plays out, and the bray of clandestine rock stars announcing it a prank which they claim they are entitled to play on someone. After all, they sneer, terror is proof of guilt. How that works is sacred insight. Many people have told me that if this had been done to them they would have either killed someone or committed suicide by now. The assassins tried to trigger suicide. They raped the girl who tried to help me and wouldn't stop murdering innocent people until they succeeded in blackmailing me into writing an empty threat. See! See! They laughed, and you all love it don't you? You feel good when we blow things up that you hate, right? Hahahaha, came their snorkles. They called it their project of empathy.
We have on record at the psychiatric hospital that I was written up as a hebephrenic, meaning that my coma-trauma behaviors from a hostage pre-pubescence worked its way out in manners of an infantile type, that I spoke funny under neurohypnosis, even lisped like an English. The fancy minds exploited my deafness to their fullest advantage, rigging my hearing aids not to work after charging us exorbitant dollars, but the points of interest here are anthropological, a language tribe behind the arrangements. Wattenmaker lived on Heberton, like hebephrenia, and posted up on his wall in gradeschool a poster of Disneyland after dark. After showing me a Venus Fly Trap, they arranged encounter with De De Mancine, the Venus of Willendorf in the AIDS attack drama school.
Further, in the language tribe at work, we find not only natural language cues from company surveillance in that arena but fluxus refrains, pregnant meaning in repetition. Never On Sunday was a famous racy Musical from the late 50's named in reference to the Blue Codes which were laws forbidding certain things on Sunday, whether the sale of alchohol or exchanging kisses. Richard Karl, a mastermind in the so-called "bird bath" war game, had a dog named Blue. His kids would explicitly tease the dog with the pronunciation, "Heh Blue!" Identically, Stuart Sheppard would greet his friend Bert, whose face was disfigured by neuro-surgery, "Heh Bert." We know that Ian Wattenmaker of Heberton worked with Ian MacDonald of the Dakota in setting on me through an impacted nerve agent that forced from coma trauma seizure-inducing heckle interrogation into my facial nerve and justified their viciousness by saying they were entitled to finish their pedophile manufacture experiment, sneering that I framed Reagan for something I knew nothing about, another miracle from Double Fantasy land. At the time I didn't know the nerve agent was in there, and couldn't remember being kidnapped in the snow, a fact they also knew, while framing me for hiding a rape reflex they said entitles them to give me HIV if they want to. After raping deaf Jeannie and proving that I was unable to remember kidnapping, they chemically castrated me saying they had proven the existence of a case and this laugh was too serious not to punish without trial. Then, to underscore how I knew they had communicated by terror their demand for compliance, they ripper murdered Shannon Harps.
Why did Queer Seattle do this to somebody who was only trying to help them? I'm not sure, but there are several factors. One is resentment towards HAIR politics which did not advocate for Queers. Another is that some of the Queers were agents who played on the Queer Movement to get them behind sacrificial child molestation as a cause, figuring that showing what the Queers were and are capable of would help build a case that they deserved the AIDS attack. Which brings me to the way that Seattle peers abandoned the dignities of those who were killed.
The British set upon me for trying to warn by an operation of wound compare violence. They started attacking me in the throat, the blood, the skin, laughing that it could be worse, man, taking away my civil rights wholesale promoting derision about the war game authored by those responsible. Youssou N'dour was partners at CMU with Radio KKK a vicious white supremacist statement laughing up their sleeve, pleading false sarcasm, in a mask of Howard Stern. He abandoned blacks being railroaded downtown to the cult behind AIDS for personal advancement. The Proctors absolutely loved seeing my father derided after he died, and Nancy Moore, Mother Deliverance, the informant in my house for the perpetrators group, to this hour plays the role of the doctor in Stanley Milgram's experiment: Obedience to Authority. Common thuggery on the streets is the method of choice for de-humanizing their victim.
Ming Na Wen convinced everybody. She said that I was too restrained. She had never been in the bed of a boy or had a boy in her bedroom who didn't at least make the hesitant gesture of putting his hand affectionately on her shoulder. She said that my keeping a safe and dignified distance was too strange. She was sure it meant rape. They would get to castrate me for framing Reagan. At one point the fact that Mick Ronson had French kissed me as a tot after pulling a pre-teen girl's head to his crotch in front of her father, was all that was keeping David Bowie from murdering me. In other words a bunch of pedophiles were framing me as one of them. This was Midori Goto's Mental Illness (MI-Ultra) Ultra Secret.
The refrain: One Ring to Bind them, inspired the assassins. Midori Goto kept tabs as SONY and Tive, Wattenmaker's partner, slaughtering bashed me and hired attack prostitutes, taunting me privately that it justified mass murder. When I said I disagreed, they sent in Catholic Worker announcing that my victim status was a utility to prove I meant it by slave labors. The Arms Race kept us from investing in poverty stricken nations where such investments would have lowered the birth rate and undermined our hysteria about so-called planetary over-crowding. The Catholics meanwhile violently opposed abortion even for sex slaves of Boko Harem. AIDS I guess they figured, was spiritually better. They got real intimate, disallowing that a victim of severe trauma might understandable tune out their surroundings, they made sure that my deafness was chided when I didn't hear and thus cannot remember names. What good are you, they sneered. After they had their pussyball record all whipped up by agents from Neva Corporation, Ringo and Midori gave the signal to steal the bacon, and punish their dog-eared, yellow poet with the justice of having his wife stolen to the grins of Blacks in on the whore house sit-in of the AIDS crime, posturing as victim.
Ralph Proctor, who teaches at my former school, on the subject of Understanding Violence and the many faces of abuse, nevertheless self-published a book wildly extolling the virtues of Nate Smith whose eyes gleamed like a proverbial beast of prey recounting how he was allowed to knock out white boys. Proctor's nephew tutored me further on the mentalism of what they call "compensatory coding." Murder pussyball, at a major university? Yup, completely and totally openly. They are measures; provincial measures.
I don't understand why my peers abandoned so disgracefully those who died, nor why they have abandoned me. Scapegoating is so vulgar and so obvious. While promoting a disgrace and humiliating me to cowardly lies, they never bothered even to ask: where did all this come from? They'd rather just do it, for the spite of foreign England.
The Beatles, they say had a rubber soul, and indeed, like Standard Oil, who sold rubber to Nazi Germany, they do. They stole a love bug named beetle by Adolf Hitler personally and found their hate craft magnificent. You can't be Jesus or Lennon, they snicker, but you can die like a saint of HIV for resistance.