What I know of our society is limited to where I have lived, been to school, traveled and read about, but I am 56 years old, having never lived above the poverty line, and deaf. The people of Seattle and Pittsburgh who I know best are most of them perfectly aware and sickeningly willing to accept that the AIDS attack was directed by the United States' government with a script allowing it to be unfolded as a narrative very openly while unprinted in the press, as a diversionary joke being played on a battered, traumatized and disabled child who was earmarked, put in a gas chamber of all things by children of holocaust survivors and used for vivisection in a university calling itself: Pitt, who cultivated a morbid franchise by a war-making AIDS testing war game on Mt. Desert Island that British prog rock promoters, notably Peter Gabriel, claimed was a sexual amusement park. The illegal operation testifies to total control by a government uninterested in protecting us or obeying the law. The society I live in know this, have advocated for the murderers and have vowed to take the secret and if necessary everyone else, to the grave in order to protect this terrible mistake, so easy to deny when all are onboard in unrivalled gall. My goal is to show this is true and how it happened in the rare, obscure event that someone's sanity might be at risk in knowing without being able to understand.

Seattle Queers have misrepresented the entire casework. There are several reasons to explore or at least to list. Petty rivalry is one, the idea that membership in their group gives them special intellectual credibility, the fraternal summons to solidarity in a class of error, and the strange reality of infiltration by the assassins themselves who rose to position of leadership by a program openly disclosed to have used tactics of Hollywood and evening television of the 60's like Mission: Impossible and Man From U.N.C.L.E. Seattle Queers insist on living in a world dominated by such methods pretending they could never exist in reality, only on television, while falling over each other to star in programs themselves. As a result, Seattle Queers went along with some of the most shocking military actions, bloodcurdling afterthoughts by the victors, finishing touches administered by the confederate organization who did all this quite openly, as no one would dare deny, solving this strange problem by avoidance of reading me, threatening me, and serially subjecting me to lasting, incurable injuries. This group of citizens, practicing prison gang civics openly in Our Commonwealth, are saying to the assassins, oh master, I understand now, and smiling with the affection of pupils eagerly learning their lesson, never to disagree with their own exterminators. The U.S. Government, too, quietly amused, announces that this is as it should be. The punchline is that a child they deride as "queerbait" is an unworthy.

Text can, but usually doesn't, find its way into identity and recognition for contributions to the truth. Keeping this violence to the mind secret has been argued for because the British claimed that revealing it would be a fast road to popular consciousness for an unworthy individual. It is as if the psychiatric fable developed about Mark David Chapman, imprisoned in Attica for his role as a servant of Empire, the idea of gaining recogntion for oneself, was all thought up in advance as a metaphor for encaging our history in misrepresentation and fraud rather than have anyone know the truth about it, because that, rage the British superiors, would be grandstanding. Oh my God, the public's right to know might be taken for a personality cult figure's death wish!

The politics of the situation are ungovernable. Elizabeth Warren has surrendered while fulminating her rages as supreme harpy of the cover story. From someone they serially violated and butchered as ruthlessly as the North Koreans while pronouncing the off-color slogan: No Mercy, she asks the mystery of patience, as a filibuster and stall there is no doubt whatsoever. Clap, clap for Barack Obama who knew all this before entering office and spent his siestas ordering new rounds of viper detail against American dissent. The only opponent that Joe Kennedy will ever face in politics is the invisible man of the Kennedy curse so his efforts at securing the vote are doomed to be consigned to those of a flaky Rasputin for his own safety and America's piece of mind. If this sounds familiar it is because of Elizabeth Warren.

The assassins have been so good as to devize, in their experience park of the mind mystique, serial chapters provided to a narrative subculture up and up on the arguments generated as sacred by the assassin group, most recent of which was the terror at Grenfell, a London building that burned into a charred husk, taking dozens of lives, without discriminating as to age, race, sexual identity or political affiliation. The assassins did this in loyalty to the Queen of England, they left no doubt of it, as surely as their follow up attack with a van against Muslims arrived like the anthrax after the 9/11 attacks in New York that no one cares to properly evaluate, gibbering instead any manner of alternative views, provided the truth is purposefully excluded. The killers are online, they address me every night among a New York media blockade against freedom of speech worked out as a compromise they claim is schizophrenia support chat, called the IRC Village.

The spectacle of the charred hull of Grenfell Tower in London indeed seems like a battlefield answer to assassins commiting rape and ripper attacks while chanting at CMU in favor of Peter Gabriel like maddened crowds of jihadi Muslim extremists, "Let's have a barbecue!" and could be mistaken for comeuppance when I think far more likely to have been a torch by an old adversary Lou Leto in Army Command taking it to his head to maliciously depict my agony of tears as being terribly dangerous. The crackdown has not yet materialized. It’s just a kiss away. CMU and Seattle have always supported such methods. Like the face of Sissy Spacek, herself a leader of this obscenity, in the film Carrie as she incinerates the school for pouring pig blood on her as she walked down the aisle of a trumped-up Honors ceremony, the devastation is meant to grip you from the deathpile with your own schaedenfreude. This is how Pentagon Disney play a game they love called: Satisfaction. Now we are back in a CIA resigner’s actionable guessing game of whodunit in a society that loves tears and vengeance against imaginary enemies more than law. They clutch their heads like Carrie, their eyes roll back in their heads, and another solemn axe must fall.

Since my unwanted stepbrother of 20th Century Fox's first film (missing) was called Terror of Grendel and my opening article in my blog Story Checks Out is titled DF, I can't help noting, in the spirit of Nabokov's satirical opus about literary criticism, Pale Fire where his search for faith leads him to a mis-spell he takes for the hand of Allah, that the letters transform Grendel into Grenfell, a commonplace stylism in the cybercon war game CMU created with the Society for Military Engineers in order to help Britain stage their narrative as the AIDS onslaught was as thusly unto unfolded. The counter-intelligence mind game behind the idea that Grenfell was fury by individuals incited by my efforts at disclosure, expressing their hostility at London for releasing AIDS, attended by their society for truly sick sadism at CMU, a guerilla first, demanding AIDS Nuremberg is a laugh. The same lies were on the mis-spelled marquis in Montana behind 9/11, an anthrax defense of the guilty being portrayed as sympathy for the victims.

Progressives are not the only ones who think globally and act locally. Not only did the British Government plan the play they did the math. Pitt, their office lady, held forth that the Texas Chainsaw Massacre was The Nature of Reality, because the killers had credibility and Seattle's prison gang style city civics sang along. Were the end of Texas Chainsaw written to include reference to what Warhol Museum claims is Hitler's Masterpiece, Aaron Dixon, a dacoit in Yoko Ono's legion, would pull up in his green machine and bark, "You is the white! This ain't no jitney. You want help you pay cash." He may even call off the slayer for a little immigrant-welcome style tribute.

Using the method of a plebesite of nets, the parochial opponent planned this moralizer gun generations in advance, because an act of God created by man seemed to demand no less. The target of execution was birthed into a warmaking American family and purposefully excluded from inside council. The mothers were no different than Roe, they were “just sick about it,” as Mother Deliverance chimed of the marriage double bands she “hawked.” The women convened were assignations with designator names from machine intelligence. N. Moore (for no more) met with Penny to whisper agreement regarding the progenitor of a food fight overcrowding the edges of suburban upper classes. The mininum of economy (Penny) faced the beef in the guise of Donna Rice, with barely enough to feed a sparrow. The women of the klan wore their horns proudly as their Black alliance leaders boasted of their losting marriages after what they did to me, a neurotrauma victim held hostage to Federal gossip, the sick fantasy that I am a two-timer.