When I wrote an article for the FBI at school called, “AIDS and the FBI,” they showed up acting very guilty asking if I meant they did it. I hadn’t meant that, to the contrary, I was informing them about what went on, but then, I was also defending Reagan and trusted the British in those days. Reality has changed my views. The FBI are a lot like Adolf Hitler. They became obsessed, violently crazy for fulfillment of evil, and let nothing stand in their way. They have built a farce in the name of the future, around prancing English pipsqueaks who overawe them.
When I took the SAT’s in 11th grade, the students were all of us warned that some of the questions would be experimental. I suspected one of them as such, which told a gang story and asked us to indicate whether we felt sympathetic involvement or detached amusement. Proving war crime on the Federal level this issue returns to me. The F.B.I. have tipped their hand as the agency for whom Gail Carolyn Burstyn, then as now, is and was working for. The evidence is conspicuous and the Government of New York was behind the AIDS attack as well. The Governor’s offices of these states worked with the F.B.I. on the campaign of slanders and devious hate crimes. The ripper hatters who came to Sound Mental Health and murdered Shannon Harps as a cold blooded intimidation of me for Opal Records and SONY, were from the Federal Building downtown in Seattle. We also know that the Army, Obama’s Afghanistan Director of Operations, is on a bloodcurdling personal vendetta working with McChrystal and Dia Galas in terrifying acts that included 911. This is clear from the fact that a namesake of Dia Galas, from the New York Voodoo Museum and Swid Powell, called me for Gail Burstyn’s high society to comment wryly the night they said John Lennon had only lived twice in double fantasy.
From that day forward, Yoko Ono and the Warhol Museum have murdered, raped, firebombed and commanded from Police Stations that the truth about the Goebbels admiring Will Zell Broome of the Jackson Labs fire milieu shown to have had prior knowledge of AIDS was top sacredly also a protected person by Obama and Geffen Corporation, working the will of Celine Dion and Penis Sinfield making a goblin theater ordeal of an earmarked pawn’s tormented life, hissing endless streams of lies to defend James Kasper, initialed JK for Japanese Kogal porno, in a James Bondage revenge by the British for their favorites in Japan to punish America.
Now let’s turn to the evidence that the F.B.I. authored Gail Burstyn and this plan of murder in a lifelong ordeal of criminally insane pseudo-experimental justice whipped up by those who wrote the script and then pretended to find it. Recall that Leslie Katz worked for Connie Bolanis who lied about what she witnessed at Fulton School, while friends of Jenny Rubin whose lookalike appears in Neva Pink cinema and whose friendship with Gail Burstyn operates through the magistrate’s lairs in Pittsburgh. The fact that the F.B.I. helped kill Kennedy and King is old news. Edward Eisen, a King Crimson peisen clue, stood waiting one day outside Bolanis’ for me as I waited for Leslie because he wanted to demonstrate for me the magic of slate. Behold it is one piece. Allah mighty struck with his karate fist, and presto now it is broken. He, a friend of martial artist Robert Lee of Fulton (Japanese) gestured like a magician, thusly, you see, intact, now presto broken.
Eisen told me once that he never had a chance to make his own enemies because his brother had made them for him. I used to think of my father, but the real message was from Martin Andelman and Thomas Gordon, Leslie Sanetta’s other contacts, discussed by Greg Karl as persons “impinging on the persona’s experiences.” Gail Burstyn and Tom Gordon both had a prestigious Bryn Mawr, Harvard College approach to social anthropology that they tried to explain to me in identical terms. I didn’t really get it but the idea was that any specific action you take eliminates the ones you don’t and Gordon specified it as a lesson in the path of least resistance.
So science was very clearly part and parcel of how Yoko Ono and Warhol Museum were inventing their sticky subject for Hollywood Teamsters in place to lie to my face with telltale names like Sylvia Green. Meanwhile, the F.B.I. counted on Edgar Snyder, High Dracula of Victim Status in Pennsylvania, hiring E. Snyder and Lisa Miles to defend Thos. Gordon’s partner Miles Kirshner, a Pentagon Disney attorney behind the alliance of Double Fantasy, Mt. Desert Island and the FEMA. Burstyn snickered in reciting, “Man is the only animal that laughs and cries,” “perhaps it hasn’t occurred to Hazlett that women also laugh and cry.” It was a cute thing for the F.B.I. to say in setting up a rape frame by Karl’s “forces impinging on the persona’s experience,” to cover for Zell.
The construction of a persona worked very diligently lying about the fact that I was looking for mature, police intervention in organized crime and that a person in my position is in grave danger if found out, which I was, because the F.B.I. knew exactly what I was doing, since I was confiding, mistakenly, in them. The construction of a persona that Karl wrote about meant using bulbar syndrome, terror games of the sort Burstyn and Gordon described, and the suffocation that is found illustrated in films like Marooned in the scene, “HATCH BLOWN” due to bulbar like oxygen deprivation. The murderers at the FBI used the name HAR court meaning to imply the accusation YOU LAUGHED rather than be found out for misleading a murderer in the hopes of escape, reporting and rescue. Nobody questioned why the FBI exploded with laughter at the ripper murder of Shannon Harps.
The FBI sent in the criminal James Child to a house in the Burstyn script next door to Bannon Carpets. Yes, indeed, Bannon. To trap the investigator and punish attempts to warn the murderers from the FEMA working with Harcourt and C-line Dion on a process that Pitt described as proving that people are plastic, meaning that Carbonell could “extrude” and mistranslate at will and call it the pirohueting effervescence of the illimitable and infallible Robert Fripp, Pitt advertised their contempt openly with Adam Eisenstat’s KDKA talk show appearance as Abdul the Terrorist, a woman giving me the song, “Syrinx” in the lead up to my father’s fast decay, and an invite to Bard from a girl in wait at the brazenly named, “He’s Dead, Jim” while I was invited to perform for them at the ROTC shooting gallery by a French woman named Consuelo.
In their James Bondage Katz game to promote the JKogal of Spirit, the powers larger than life depredating on the insignificant one, lisping, “That’s another story,” to defend their agents and finish the crime. Forgive the JD they spewed or die trying to escape the virus injection that rabid Ringo can’t stop himself from ripperring and raping about in attempts to stop himself. Kowtow to Neva Confederacy. Kowtow to Martial Japan. Kowtow to the Axis. Lennon only lived twice in double fantasy. Kowtow.