For three years, as my mother testified before Sound Mental Health, Peter Gabriel, during the making of the album So, wrote to me constantly, then, after he had murdered me from the lives of everyone I ever knew, he disappeared leaving only his laughing face, my life broken, those who loved me to whom I am now forever invisible, stricken at the thought and sight of me.   There has never been a deviant so criminally insane. By the magnitude of his violence and sadism he vanished my dignity and hope for a future. Those who once knew me admit they know me no more, and frankly they wouldn’t dare. Some people think I brought it on myself by getting too close to this sort of pervert, but in my own defense he claimed to be from Amnesty International and  I am a victim of terrible, terrible torture and reprisals for trying to get help. Yes it was a conjob, no I had no reason to think so.

    Sound Mental Health was deeply complicit in what  Peter Gabriel has done. The government stood by hoping he would do something sufficiently criminal and cruel that they could feel satisfied that  I have been punished for trying to get help. ADWAS, supposedly a network for Abused Deaf Women wouldn’t take my case at first, but then when my deaf advocate, a woman with Downs Syndrome, was raped to punish her for teaching me sign language, ADWAS brought me to Seattle supposedly for sanctuary and placed me at Emerald House  of Sound Mental Health. True to the form of the game they are playing, their case manager Cathy Hoog published a book for the government in Olympia called: Enough but not Enough. It reflected Gabriel’s view that the rape of deaf Jeannie was mercy. Enough to punish but not enough to make up for the AIDS attack. They didn’t give her AIDS, and then, continuing their crime, they only gave me diabetes and chemically castrated me.  The line of reasoning uses me for the fall guy in the murder of John Lennon and is considered sacred reasoning by Seattle Art Museum, particularly queer estate.

     One reason I no longer exist for those who read my  poetry, the first of which, upon returning here, held a lot of resonance for my readers in the Japanese Kinokuniya Bookstore, aware of Ichiro’s role in seducing me to International District, was called:  Why a Ghost Should Not Haunt the Living; the reason I am a living dead man isn’t just because they ruined my body, poisoned my spirit and raped my only friend, leaving me alone, isolated, without friends, destroyed, dying and terribly sad, is that I argue back that  they are not telling the truth about what happened. It has no power because of the sociological imagination that the bullies in Beatles bigwig media pushed through as their alibi for failure to warn. Even when they admitted openly to me in those three years of letters that they weren’t concerned about the victims but the profits, failure to warn has been squished as a non-issue.  It isn’t one.

      Nor have I ever heard of a government that routinely resorts to terminal poison before or a society that has a system they call lawful which ignores that fact.   As a victim of a terrible crime by a dangerous psychopath, the world no longer makes sense, any of it. I have studied and answered their insane and illegal homework for years.  I understand perfectly that trusting the British was an insane mistake. In the script the crime that President Kennedy was killed for was being the President of the United States.   It was a punishment crime to wipe the smile off our faces over victory against the Axis Powers and illustrates in several departments what they mean by Axis which is even more dangerous as a shadow alliance of this magnitude, with simplified methods like the AIDS attack.   Yet our medical community operating out of UPMC and UW went right along with their hideous plot as though it were a joke upon revelation. Apparently no amount of work, no effort to inform the public, no terrible degree of evidence and information, has the slightest impact at all on anyone in letters with the power to print, protest or protect, none, absolutely nothing.  It is cold blooded, calculated, terminal surrender to mass murderers who did this for fun.

       We know that Peter Gabriel used a Senegalese yammerer to communicate a counter-allegation, to announce discovery of the deed, and to pronounce judgment and doom on the white item of selective obsession in their calculations.  The script explains the murder of Martin Luther King on an X-Y Axis explaining the cost of sex in a tyrannical pussyball index table. King’s rivals didn’t like him and if he were alive today he would be being ignored, an old man fuming from the margins.  Youssou N’dour’s lewd catcalls for the authors from the Neva Corporation signified a Declaration by the Black leaders behind the assassination of Martin Luther King who worked on this crime of state with the more visible enemies in an agreement campaign concerning their claim to scientific sexual morality.

      There is an analogy in the way that people cannot be held to testify against their family, their wives and husbands, in refusal of our society to meaningfully evaluate and dissent against well-known popular recording musicians and this is gravely complicated by a power system, a malevolent Army with all the powers of terror, bullying and cruelty they can summon, who communicate by implication, who lead by gestures meant to signify powerful political approval.   They have privatized hostility and abolished the right to be informed of the charges against the prey or the right to confront the accuser in a court of law, they have adopted a system that recognizes no checks or balances on their summons, no statute of limitations against the content of their lies, and no protection for bystanders being picked off to illustrate their venom. All anonymously and yet by law, the entire government is aware of who they are and what they are doing and proceeding to traffic this menacing condition of abolition of all decency.

         The British, knowing Pittsburgh, found very early that they could get away with terribly humiliation when it was me.   They also found that the sort of academic interest groups seeking progress in our society would go to sleep when faced with their proclamations, sneering that there is no such thing as traumatized, hostage or brainwashed children, especially when they need a white sacrifice in a war game.   They just picked me off, and that was that, same as JFK. The script was meant to censor comparison of the very comparison they themselves made because they say that I am insignificant compared to the mighty man who they also assassinated. This is science, a cruel elimination game by using the rhetoric of America’s political limitations in the world to force us to atone for not being able to save it.  The message is clear: If you don’t like killing innocent people then you deserve to die because killing innocent people is the nature of the willingness to live.

      As a test case it is perfectly revealing.   The Catholic Worker Vince Eirene and Robert Fripp of King Crimson, working together among excited peers, drummed up a crowd perception that complaints were made against my behavior and contracted sexual agents operating undercover to become involved with me, even to the point of being engaged to be married.  The complaints they manufactured by this sociopathic manipulation to serve their ends were made about my crying over rejection as a deaf man when the neuroplastic injury they inflicted was still invisible, unknown to me, and kept out of discussion by those who might have otherwise been concerned. It was hidden and they were the ones hiding it.  Meanwhile the copy journalists in their team from the Jewish pornographic secret society behind the script, who signed it and sent it from places like New Jersey and Israel, made jots in their ledgers meant to announce by scientific polarity that our house now owed them sex. Midori Goto, who was hired by them, was thrilled to serve as the extortionist representing the model Peter Gabriel advertised with his old mass flyer of two picks, which he repeatedly punned on as knows pick, telling a story for analogy of finding his first wife the prettiest in the room and saying it was therefore quite simple.  A protest union of love over Lennon would naturally seek her out, a fact also designated by the alliance working from a headquarters on East/West Circuit Road. This formula about what they were calling the nature of reality emerged from assassins who had taken to jeering Martin Luther King’s non-violence at his protests by shouting at him, “Dah Lawd!”

        Even though the Verdict came out backwards, deaf Jeannie was raped, and I was found guilty of raping a woman in their Jewish pornographic society who was still a virgin, the Authorities had me chemically castrated so that even if some way were found to stop them I would never love again.   Again, without trial, anonymously, and entirely by law. The Governor posed openly in an International District newspaper against my image to signify awareness and insouciance in vivisection terror crime by the government. It’s perfectly obvious from the picture, everyone noted it, but all he has to do is deny.    There is no one to listen to me except the enemy who tortured me, which is their nectar, as they have said all along. Tami Simon, who worked with the virgin starlet Leslie Katz, dripped with malice from her pen in satire, “I, the dreamer, clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last, thin, unbearable instant of agony in order to sharpen the savor of the pain’s surcease.”  The mogul Ringo Starr licks at the bloodcurdling wounds of his monstrous crime for repast, leering and licking like nothing will ever assuage his malice and hungers.

         Peter Gabriel sent in Rosa Monteleone to say she loved me and get the job done.  They raped open the neurological injury, tortured me, and I have lived in suffering from losing the woman I loved from the day she left under false allegiance when I was 33, to the day I was castrated at 47 to the present hour dying of diabetes at age 57, and not a day did not bring the presence of all those wounds, neurotrauma, deafness, loneliness, lies, and the horrible crime of endless slave labors whenever I turned on any link to media like facebook.  They have challenged me through word and deeds like ripper homicide in Capitol Hill of Seattle. For a law these avengers of the Axis see me as the muse of American disgrace.

      All Ringo Starr has to do is lift a finger and summon the powers of media and Reagan to read the Verdict that came out backwards.   For example, they admitted to me in print that money was their only concern, but to conceal their approval of the weapon they relied on a theme in the writings of Dr. Proctor, how people he interviewed, some of them destroyed and mentally ill, would accuse him of seeking to make money.   The idea that Lennon’s death was used to make money drowned my screams for help in trying to sound public warning. Ringo leered, stop them at the money line, even though it meant canceling on a call for civil protections. He promoted a deranged film of children giving each other AIDS as they were half dead from drugs as a loyal tribute of bondage to the spirit of Lennon that it would be uncool to question.

       They held me confined, as they continue to be consumed with derangement for their powerful deception, in an existential prison of tragedy and loss, where demoralizing voices are like a gas chamber from which there is no living escape.   In their snide illustration of the methods of how I went about trying to show they were they they announced that sexual penetration of their lab agent DiPietro before cameras was proof of their conception that a defiant trespass took place with some unnamed other and that this refraction constitutes proof and conviction so that their HIV injection threat and war game, called Two Virgins, was a sacred Axis gridlock and pact.    That is the overt gesture of the game but it is equipped with elusive algorithms they find endlessly fascinating, but despite this, the CIA’s toolbook was really a very simple style of code, mostly Alphanumeric.

         As Executors of Hitler’s revenge the British used the situation in a variety of ways as the attack worked its course of operations through our society and history.   They fully expect to be exonerated by saying, oh well, you know. Excitement is rare for some people. I know they don’t know what they are really saying, but a number of sad cases have laughed at me, you were lucky to be tortured by Peter Gabriel, and that is how he fully expects to get away with it.  Our power structure is largely infiltrated and lost to their jurisdiction and voices. Horribly molesting someone in the name of love would just be met with a shrug by a society that has moved effectively and with violence in the direction of Nazi Germany the way Donald’s States of America have, and make no mistake, this is just the icing on the cake, the signifier Donald has been on the travesty right from the beginning.

          The British Executive Directors of Hitler’s revenge put on an electric eel show using the golem from the Donaldson Klan for a barometer in navigating the suffering with excitement like 911 and the North Korea crisis.   Every step of the way they come up with something, the Jackson Labs fire, the USS Iowa bombing, deaf Jeannie’s rape, Shannon’s massacre. The school shooting style of Peter Gabriel is lascivious with bloodthirst and his groupies want to be epigrams on his feelings.   They take souvenirs to hell in time and tune. In Dealey Plaza the presence of Abraham Zapruder and his subsequent actions were clear indication of a larger production company who are doing this for fun. In football they have a lateral pass, and Oliver Stone caught the ball for the touchdown with his film.  This escalation dominance forever forecloses on media investigation. Who better to speak for victims than a Nam Veteran Jew? The cunning of ripper tormentors does not move press or cinema. They have signed aboard and are united: Hands off the conjob. The power team is an Army well aware that people just laughed about the women Clinton groped.   Nobody cares about the man who cudda saved John Lennon but was blaming Reagan, and the idea and no one ever will suspect John Lennon as the mastermind of a ruse with Reagan from Pentagon-Disney, which is exactly why the perception that his death is worth money will always get a lot more attention than the real issue of failure to warn. They have, with the killers of King, come up, through Obama, with a Declaration that amounts to American insignificance, a world scam justification, finalized through their skill at indirect evocation of thought processes, Operation:  You Know Your Mind Is Your Own.