Seeing people killed isn’t funny but in a strange way the reasons being given are. Like there’s something very Orwellian about a woman calling herself a feminazi and cheering a deaf poet being castrated and poisoned in the stomach for refusing to date rape then having a black super-stud bray that the joke is on the victim and that the white sacrifice is humiliated. It takes gall, like saying the Jews were humiliated by Hitler. It is, in other words, a peculiar brag. On the dignity scorecard it sort of balances out. After all they didn’t give me HIV when raping and molesting me for testifying. Makes them almost wonder if St. Lennon will let them through the Pearly Gates that Archangel Trump plans to have remodeled first chance.
If someone ever gives you the line that you can trust the Jews, tell them story about what Miles Kirshner and Gail Burstyn, that Bonnie and Clyde operation, did to Jimmy Creary. Their mob will retaliate for listening of course, to sad stories of Auschwitz scarred chosen people mutilating goyim (how dare you say our children aren't safe) and don’t mention the trivialities of life destroying vivisection to aw a poor sacrificial white boy who thinks he’s special, sneering that the devil in question cudda saved John Lennon with a ditto master if his face wasn’t shoved in the toilet of his penis, but when the Klue Kruxters give you the old lines, summon up a brave face to look squarely at their defender in Trumpmania.
There were Klues in the broth of Klux Kruxt Krust they bray, as to why the dishonorable white suck was lessoned by radical self-defense. Whatever else, there were kluze. Let’s go over a few of the early ones from before I was really triggered. It crossed my mind that I was a little boy and Tive of Sony a fat man when I heard the names of the atom bombs in littlehood. I thought of De De in the AIDS script when I saw David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs (his real name was Davey Jones, the name of the boy who showed up about the time of Duquesne’s Jocelyn and Jocelyn Elders, fibbing about the dencraepft of the locker, gee, a point to which I will return.) I also remember being taken into Rhoda’s bagel nutch to wizzy in an American Standard decorated latrine being eyed for understanding over the AS, the initials of a NEVA and Warhol affiliation put onto me for pedophile blackmail by Morgan and CHASE. Trump likes American women so much he wants to own some. These were the agency who manipulated appearances so astutely that Seattle Queers sided with their own killers, that’s rad, baby. After doing some very lamentable things to my sister, the only one fit to report being breaking her ribs, they gave her the solemn and token honorific of shiska.
There is method to this syphilis, as I started to realize when I heard my first ear doctor had an Auschwitz tattoo and remembered being gassed in Kings Estate. Today, the usual buccaneers princed forth with eloquence they own: how many toddlers did you want as a kiddo and how many you got? They didn’t mention that the respondent of choice had been abducted and brainwashed by a brutal pornography guild. They just wanted to imply so there.
So here were these exceedingly prominent rabid animals, playing like they were the victims, and their hostage wasn’t, using neurohypnosis to get anything they wanted out of the feedback gelatine they’d implanted in the psyche; and they extruded their inputted carrot tape, while Adam Eisenstat was on the radio masquerading as Abdul the Terrorist and Greg Karl penned about, “forces impinging on the persona’s experience,” obvious evidence of torture and manufacture. The mascot of Pittsburgh is a parrot. They openly discussed a process of extrusion. They said with a snicker, “I have Noh idea,” what is true, hahahaha.
I am conditioned by experience at my old school not to talk very much about my personal research, but the video presentation I offer represents the problem of mistranslation perfectly from the point of view of the mistranslators (God they think they are so smart) and from my point of view, which is overt sabotage masquerading as covert. If you use the Closed Caption function after my subtitles stop running, you get semi-accurate aural translation until I mention “the illusion of racism” which it computer generates as “the illusion of rights”. I had thought about subtitling the line “the hand me down illusion of race that misinforms our history and creates a puzzle of difficult grudges” as “the hand me down illusion of race that menstrates our history” even before this happened to call attention to the debate as to whether human agency is behind some of these supposedly machine translation goofs that appear so often. It is rooted in an old controversy at CMU where brutal child traffickers put me through a Manson ordeal and then working with a cinema team called NEVA Man-cine, literally, in the office of Jaime Carbonell and one of the original Broadway cast of HAIR (Amanda Harcourt’s entourage) used invasive hotwire surveillance and psychological manipulation to depict me as a street urchin “sharing brain cells” with the men who kidnapped and subjected me to mutilation in defense, again literally, of deadly assault. This was in defense of Carbonell’s claims that you cannot succeed in liberation from below using global communication.
My father Ryland had evidently offended these people in academics by publishing books on human rights while marrying five times.
There is concern in other words that the old theory of mind, by which Native Americans thought they had an “understanding” with Gringo led to massacres as recently as last summer of aborigines in Brazil. Never underestimate the venoms of the Trump machine at CMU, nor those who profit from below, notoriously in this caper Seattle Black Panthers, who agreed with Carbonell that I should be sacrificed as a white liberal deplorable. The sabotage is intended to de-stabilize by example, but instead I think I will file this grievance example publicly anyway concerning the esoteric prism of the algorithms of exploitation in our cyber-estate with the understanding that it is not a topic for class, but demonstrative not only of the issues involved in a world language, but of the enemies of the potential in the use of English for a world language in preservation of our lustrous linguistic inheritance as a species. To avoid the issues would be dumbing the problem down hopelessly.
Such are the nature of the tawdry tales the Beatles farted on our galaxy