The grant of a license to commit war crimes by a society to select individuals in high command is a form of extreme favoritism. The millenial era is one of digital disconnect and immediate concerns about acceptance obstruct any power or capacity to understand anything at all about what has happened or what has gone on. You cannot get digest into print. This testimony isn't about the endless war in Afghanistan. It is about the endless war coming in the form of guerrilla attacks by our so-called allies: Israel, Britain and Washington, D.C. All mass outlets of print media have banned this testimony and are shut down, despite my casual letters about commonwealth issues being widely admired. The final precaution has been resort to psychiatric brutality.

It may not be more serious, but the heartbreaking final note is that people refuse to read what little there is to find and refuse to recognize the old tactics of deception. What few students may exist who care allow their own killers to teach them.

The power to describe the endless war and endless felonies of this profoundly disturbing society of Manson crimes and cyberbullies doesn't amount to much but what I propose in this note is to retrace a little bit about the cobwebs of tyranny that came from Britain's alliance with Germany, Israel and South Africa through the poison plans of Britain in the AIDS attack and show beyond the shadow of a doubt that the Unidentified Registered Nurse investigated and wrongfully exonerated by the Governor's Office for the State of Washington who chemically castrated me through hospital violence at Harborview in Seattle, leading to complications in my heart and diabetes, is part of a bio-terrorism network stage-managed out of Carnegie Mellon by the White House. This is the same cruel command and control system of military extremists who were behind the Anthrax on 911 and not insignificantly the bombing of Oklahoma Federal.

The system described by this work is intimidating for its impunity and morally disturbed grant of asylum to the world's worst bigots in favor of slaughtering attacks on the completely innocent. They have not been discrete or invisible, nor have they chosen to hide their views. Cameron Brown of the New York Times, working with King Crimson, a macabre and perverted group of deathbed hippies, called 911 and such crimes by which they define themselves as the murder of Shannon Harps in Capitol Hill of Seattle, "a barbeque for children," not just once.

The Beatles want their language spells canonized. They use something called fluxus, a series of repeated refrains they announce contain their messages and unravel in the psyche as caustic barbs of derision, strategy and decision command. They sing through company hisses that all that has been at work is nothing less than the revenge of John Lennon's spirit, who they call, "Kosper," all strangely enough on behalf of those who killed him, or so they say, while saving special attacks of the most devious sadism for those who are truly innocent, intimidating those they lie to, notoriously a number of black bigots from the fringes, who are inciting by the usual powers of libel and smear so easy for the British to summon. Obama has provided deadly, if chickenly and crude, corporate attorney, using an innocent person as spectacle fodder, to orchestrate victims into celebrating the mentality of the killers. It's all about mentality for these evil assholes, selling domination without law or accurate narrative, commiting fiendish murder crimes and rape to give hellish definition to their mentalplex summons, in thrall with absolute tyranny. Raping children and laughing is nothing, they contend, because those who released AIDS now get to compare what they do to innocent people without using AIDS to what the afflicted suffer by AIDS. In other words, if the child-raping pigs behind the ripper murder of Shannon Harps want to rape a retarded girl for Yoko Ono that's better than injection of a serial trauma hostage with HIV, so logically you should give the Beatles five for doing it. And you have.

You have laughed in unison with the play from the plan and unplug yourself entirely without bothering about the truth, only too cheered by the Liars Club and their doctrine of plastic reality. Since cheering Hitler's revenge is so much less of a nuisance that crying for someone in pain, you allow that he did it for you and got everyone to join in the yammer, "You think you're better than us!" No one thinks Obama is better than anyone. He doesn't need to worry so much. He can rest contented. By American Law, unenforceable under this tyranny, he is a certified disgrace.

Naturally, I don't like not being properly paid or rewarded. People unwilling to compensate those who work hard for them are unworthy and if the NAACP wants to justify burning the American social contract in order to promote the scummy and truly evil South African politics at work in the deal cut by Obama in the AIDS attack, I suggest in all despair and gravity refusing them jobs where the white children they see with such malice are under their eye. It isn't racism. It's safeguarding from what they are circulating in black intellectual circles as compensatory coding.

The most destructive white bully I ever had the misfortune to meet, a Mr. Douglass, had Ralph Proctor's ear (literally) as an ally when he hissed at me, "If you try to help Black people they will only turn on you." Using me as an object lesson and Pitt's NAACP as his dogwhip, he created child rape in the name of Obama that is a cold-blooded fact of this evil, tyrannical history from Beatlemania called the AIDS attack. They didn't even try to understand what was really going on, they were absolutely spellbound by their partnership in the plan. The British will never stop lying. Blacks fought for Hitler. It's documented. They participated in slavery, no matter how hard the NAACP deny it. There were Confederate black soldiers. They would do anything for the Rolling Stones. Obama pulled off the AIDS attack in partnership with Robert E. Lee's mission house and that is the simple truth about what was found in Pittsburgh, behind the military hotshot deployed for the Greens in Seattle named Aaron Dixon. The North-Dixon alliance was a rout.

So the nurse who castrated me is part of Timothy McVeigh's criminal empire? How is that proven? Not exactly, but yes, as the crow flies, I will go on. McVeigh is a name signifier the planning division of Carnegie International used in their cartel of sybils working under the Government of Peter Gabriel. At my school Sylvia Green was an agent of Obama, and paramilitary Christian mobilization who used De De Mancine in the script as jailbait in the AIDS attack's midway ventures. Did Dr. Proctor kill Martin Luther King as an outsider against the war? Whatever you may think of Pitt's black administration and their psychotic militant potentials, in service to the alliance between Colin Powell and Robert Fripp, Proctor and his nephew Nelson Harrison were not the two brave black men who rescued me from a swarm of armed klansmen beating me as a child. If anything they rallied the klan later, slapping five. The foreign English created an idea around processing of the AIDS attack that they call mindblender, using the sadistic sophistication of fluxus hypnotic repetition. Green's importance was her backstab for Gabriel and Rosa Clemente using Rosa Monteleone in an operation dubbed: Evangelia Karmas in which Jeannie Tamburro was brutally raped. Green was in agency with Michelle McVeigh.

McVeigh was connived to illustrate the British science society behind the AIDS attack, and their missionary mastermind Peter Sinfield, in his view that the masses relate to and identify with heroic archetypes. Therefore Michelle McVeigh had to have a special role for the bombing of Oklahoma Federal by an agent of the FBI to have the resonance it does for the AIDS narrators. She was cast in the role of The Abandoned Woman, a role from which mother Deliverance, Nancy Moore, also spat nails.

This also took care of a problem concerning the scientific details of British lies and gyrations protecting Gail Burstyn and Ian Wattenmaker who set upon me as a child in the Israeli zone of Pittsburgh they called, "Squrl Hill," where their cult had a group named "Guerrilla Theater" on the corner of MisterRogers' church where the klansmen who savagely tortured and kidnapped me, one of them I was rescued from by two heroic black men, was a gardener, and where Leslie Katz, the starlet of the deranged script, would sit and wait for her bus, the 74, everyday. "74," wrote Gail Burstyn, "is the best number." The school shut down the paper before I could print the lost pages about "Leslie who looks like a mouse," and Burstyn naming her "guinea pig Billy Jean Guinevere," a terribly strange racket for Pitt's NAACP to be endorsing, but their eyes were on the prize of the Two Virgins pussyball war game: Ms. Goto, the fiddle dee dee.

All of this dirty, rubbing of your face in what was happily enforced by the rabid human traffickers called the FBI came wrapped and packaged with a strange as can be agenda of warped straight faced cold blooded lying from the offices of the Fab. My father, now a suspect, met the Beatles before their rise. I was already chosen. It is not irrelevant to the game that they are playing that they are lying.

Some of what they did to me bears recounting. Probably the most important thing was rendering me a neuromaton so they could bash the circuitry they wanted to fool with into something Dr. Proctor could strut while denouncing with ridicule in the utmost Pittsburgh sadism. They did this by a neuroplastic head implant, nearly fatal on its own terms, that fused my childhood, pre-formative, pre-pubescent, coma-traumatized mind shut with terror while they sent me post-doctorate letters they went around snickering were easy.

So that's all very clear. They repeat it over and over in their intimate, utmost cowardly way, the poison craft of poison criminals. This alone does not yet entirely convict the URN as part of a bio-terror network, but he is and I will go on.

To put this piece into a little temporal perspective, as it is being written London English is licking its wounds from a dastardly attack on London Bridge leaving innocents dead. British millenialists, who have never uttered one word of remorse, but rather many words of threat and derision about what was done to me, censored me in a public chat for asking them to keep their crowing and crying brief for the sake of people who have other things on their minds. The rabid jeered me that I had no right to blame them all for the sins of a few. The Prime Minister chose the truly amazing words, "enough is enough."

The British did not just torture me. They rippered an innocent woman and raped my only friend. They invaded my home and walked all over me with Manson-style pedophiles who kidnapped, slaughteringly battered, tortured, and mutilated me as a child. Sir Paul McCartney, acting through the Government of Peter Gabriel, as testified to at length by the Honors Department of my school, uncharitably reasoned that my being not-involved and knowing nothing about, and having no say in, and never would having tolerated a murder they claim took place, that of John Lennon, by their own egological insistence and transference, proves me guilty of the death, such that others, including myself, who are innocent and nearby must die. The British Government, New York Times and Harpers Magazine chose Cameron Brown then at Carnegie Mellon to represent this position because David Cameron and Gordon Brown were then hotshots in Britain on high. This deranged transference which was committed openly in defense of and partnership with the truly guilty was called by Neely Fuller's dour term of compensatory coding. Obviously, if this is legal then by that measure there is no reason not to declare the attacks on London Bridge as the same faith, vested by law, and entirely legal. Why not?

How the British claim that they knew me at all is that I wrote to Amnesty International in a semi-coma about mutilation crime and hitchhiked from Pittsburgh to St. Louis in good faith just to put one eccentric gentleman of theirs, Robert Fripp, sufficiently at ease in my presence that open discourse about the criminally insane could be broached between peaceful men. All of this brought terrible doom upon my house. The millenialists, not to be out-talked, sneered that the actions of Parliament, the Prime Minister, the Beatles and their friends, of which they approve, no matter how unjust, cannot be called the will of the masses, so I should be focused and concerned that British stragglers were knifed on the bridge in the manner that Peter Gabriel had Shannon Harps ripper hatter executed in compensatory coding. Nuf sed. People who know they are wrong and don't know how to change are extremely dangerous.

What gives with that rabid animal Robert Fripp of King Crimson? Supposedly, in the logic of their deranged crime, the attacks, including anthrax and 911, were an anarchistic, right wing, friend of Brian Eno dying tripping on LSD from HIV announcing his Ayn Rand agency with the sentiment, "My Life Mattered, too!" speaking they cry out, for all, never answering the presence of such a one, Sean Strub, friend of Dolly Meieren and thus Gail Burstyn, at the Dakota on the night Lennon disappeared into the nightfall of Pentagon Disney. What matters is that they are lying, first of all about Ayn Rand, to support Sir McCartney's cowardly jeer that there was no redeeming social aspect to my great faith and one time love for Robert Fripp, who I mistakenly saw as a knight in shining poetry.

In Ayn Rand's best work, she made a number of absolutely clear positions irrefutable to her belief system. First, she abhored comprachios, meaning the purposeful destruction of the mind of a child for slavery purposes, so you can rule out that she would support their support for the trafficking relay system and child mutilation craft of the people they support in Pittsburgh for giving them such cruel fun with me. Second, she defended the American Prisoners of War who were forced by mind-shattering torture into denouncing the USA on TV. She said no one thought they meant it, or would understand what they had gone through, and she very uncharacteristically expressed pity, for once, as a clean, good emotion. A last example will do. The murderers overlooked, I am sure purposefully, that a deaf child kept out of a deaf school by a corrupt government intent on using them, hitchhiking to St. Louis, is not encroaching on the aristocracy of talent out of line. Far from it. This saddest of things, instead, resembles only the retarded girl who found an untouched corner of the redesigned Temple of the Human Spirit in Fountainhead and curled up in it, another uncharacteristically loving, and touching example of Ayn Rand dark and beautiful humanity.

It is not impossible to express and explain the deceits evoked and what was done, far from it. In his gyrations, Fripp has exposed the genital of his mind by calling Pener Sinfield his barometer, and that is what they had in mind helping Gail Burstyn and Sean Strub pull off the hatter trickery of attacking us again hand in glove with the AIDS attackers while claiming it was defense of the victims. The agitation that took place was a staged and phony mutiny used as a pacification program of sorts, getting their yayas out explicitly by blaming innocent people, which the fanged mouths of the British millenials like to do, but abhor when someone doesn't like it back.

In a South African book (which is where this Obama plan originated) titled: Moxyland, four cyberpunks find themselves at odds with the state. They make various compromises about their bloodwork necessary to survive in an era and environment of sudden epidemics, the high price of living in mortality prone clusters. Zany things go on like shops where every box of cereal or anything else yaks, yaks, yaks in multi-media, attention-getting self-advertise and these kids latch onto a sort of rebel guru who gets them organized to do things that are like super-electronic graffiti raids. In the end it fulfills their usefulness to the State of corporate power and they variously get assassinated, put to sleep, rot in a purposeful contagion, or get super-recruited involuntarily into further service. They didn't realize that their guru was a mega-bot manipulator from those they thought they were rebelling against. That is poignant social commentary (or a brag) from South Africa. This is very genuine to what happened at Carnegie Mellon in Pittsburgh in the 90's. All of that is metaphor, which she seems to be aware of, underwritten by McCartney's defense of Gail Burstyn and her confederacy. Whether the author, Lauren Beukes, is gloating, as an Empress of neo-science fiction, over South Africa's victory by the AIDS attack, or registering her cognizenti for a few alone, one can wonder.

The NAACP would like us to believe they are like those four teens, tricked when they thought they were plotting effectively behind our backs, but the truth is far sadder, there were black militant pseudo-realists in on the AIDS attack all along. The V.A. has special listener sure you must be gratified that someone important knows, looking down over you, even though the truth can't escape.

Terrible problems like The Beatles are seen as insurmountable because D.C. has taken measures to make sure they are never challenged. Despicable attempts to tie me to unlawful reprisals as a weapon to crackdown on American journalism have even made me want to shut up. Millenials gasping, "Oh my god you don't like the Beatles?" is sooo black hole.

The people who did this have tamperphilia. They don't just lie, which is relevant, and lie on the books, they also adroitly attempt to put mis-spells in the text of their victim to sabotage effective warning and lend sympathy to the disgraceful and totally wasteful situation they have created in their chauvanist slovenage. Foreign English act as though the only people who want peace are people who are incapable of anything else. They pursued a process of good Lord giveth, good Lord taketh away, by unleashing the traffic of the 60's on the heels of King's murder. Mandatory overdose is part of the human trafficking system that Obama championed in the AIDS attack. It was a means of demoralizing a victim of torture by thuggery based on status rejection. What exactly are stigma and shaming? How did the suburban aspirations of Star Trek queerdom give rise to hypocrisy so grave they sided with their own assassins while promoting the very mindset about which the pose in complaint? Stigma is depicting the arousal of love for a soul mate as a fly while pouring out honey. In jeering where there's smoke there's fire about Leslie Katz's diry incitement, about which they refuse to concede the true details, they put me outside the police station at a Liquor and Wine (pronounced lick her and whine) store for the dirty done by the URN. Where there's whining there's fire?

When I say it is not irrelevant that N.Y's corporate attache Amanda Harcourt from the Queen's Prosecuting Service is a liar, this is particularly grating in her admission that AIDS was never the issue for them while yammering that her every man for himself ethic keeping the truth from public warning and public safety in favor of hero worship for neo-Nazi balls among Seattle suburban queerdom in their quest for insider real estate deals, is something other than might makes right when it comes to Paul Tierni (pronounced Paul Tyranny) of the Guttersnipes gang who are Peter Sinfield's partners in child trafficking in Pittsburgh. In the name of Ayn Rand, Harcourt declared that Lennon's voice alone titillates the clitoris of Her Majesty's finest. Off with his dick! she declared.

The true attending agenda was developed at Carnegie Mellon through planning between Ringo Starr and Granger Morgan who arrived at the agent name: Greg Starsinic. Ringo and Greg Karl of the Guttersnipes are a team of arsenic and Starr's cynicism. An English nurse in World War Two crowed that a man from the RAF with his face blown off couldn't take it. She found his howling at night unbearable. It's clear how she made up for it. She took to sleeping with Germans. When that made him cry even worse, she said it proves he deserved it. That is their nature, these English women who cannot bear a blemish, while spreading AIDS for art's sake. Bragging in private that they were "unconcerned and unaffected by AIDS, they put together a syndicate identical to the gom jabbar policies onboard buses in India who kill women they rape while the driver clucks, she had it coming for resisting them. If you wash they will be very offended.

You can be sure they didn't care, no matter how many people they lied to and sold their snake oil. Now they want slave labors from those on their death row, from an American they piecemealed and viciously disabled. They call it love, how droll, a gas chamber right to King's heavenly estate while Starkey and Gister light up.

The presence on hand in this campus community at dinners of mother Deliverance, of Ken Kutofsky (pronounced cut off sky) a hostile from the Israeli Zone with an Ivy League daughter (his fia) and many memories of Auschwitz in his line, specifies his expertise in child programming as well as the premeditations behind the sordid act of the URN. We find their league of sympathy on Mt. Desert Island, as well, where the CIA leader John Stockwell who followed me to Allentown for Queen Elizabeth in the days of the 1987 Wall Street Crash lured me with Will Zell, proven by state documents to have had prior knowledge of the AIDS attack, and someone Elizabeth Banwell lived by Hillary Logan enjoying the rights of tabloid womanhood. Stockwell and Banwell gave rise to checkpoint Wiswell at the Pittsburgh bank arena after Randy Tantlinger's poison crime leading to acid reflux just before Tupac got hit and deaf Jeannie was raped, while Chris Arnberg made off with the booty prize, Rosa.

This allows you to stop and think on the fact that my Social Security card begins with the numbers: 1984, a year that Len "stop getting the mail" Young's favorite Neil Postman claims with a straight face nothing like Big Brother happened.

In the 80's, after giving the dour mood of Gail Burstyn to the 70's, The New Republic took to retelling as parable the story of Louie in Casablanca, "I'm shocked! Shocked! to find that gambling is going on," a routine gambler in the cafe, he just wanted to make a demonstration of power. Likewise they were Shocked! Shocked! to find that JFK's killers were speculating openly on the markets of right to tell as though to say: what's the crime of the century, now, dogeyes?

Barry Chad, at my school when Rosa attacked me for Arnberg's nuthouse, used to say it was the right of the aggrieved to wear their horns proudly. So we understand from the NAACP in Pittsburgh that Obama set up the Alpana scam, seduction of a disabled man, in order to wear his horns proudly in demanding the compensatory code of Midori Goto, spoil of the White House pecking order in Two Virgins pussyball, a war game authored by Lennon, and clocked to the AIDS attack by Pentagon Disney. The URN who castrated me was fulfilling a vow by Midori, Ono and Ichiro to avenge the air raid that my father Ry was a beneficiary of in the Pacific, and evolved from cold blooded lies told about a plastic reality neuromatoon called Jimmy Creary by Matt Marcus (pronounced mark us), Mary Anne Steiner (of He's Dead, Jim) and Kathee DiPietro for Sisters of Mercy.

It was a vicious frame up of a deaf man who couldn't grasp what they were doing any better than you, a psychotic, premeditated AIDS testing ordeal from holy London Bridge.

In the hectic seance when Arnberg's faction detonated the neuroplasm by what the man, Dornhegga, who had a dog tear up my father's cashmir coat after he died, (while his gang were neighbor to Burstyn's closest friend Sharon Samuels) called a "wargasm" the Beatlemaniacs at CMU working with Cameron Brown, Peter Gabriel and NASA advertised their promotion of the AIDS attackers while pretending to care for the afflicted, so that anyone who didn't see it their way could be said as resisting the rapists on the bus, and having it coming. One night, I came home, mysteriously and suddenly unable to tell my left from my right, and as I put my key into the door, it snapped into nowhere, completely vanished. Records from that week or so show in the Post Gazette they reported teleportation success at CMU. When I called and said, you mean those freak psychos did that by government surveillance equipment, I was answered with a nasal, uhn uhn uhn, you are having a psychotic event, Mr. Crary.

The fascism in Britain is so bad that they aren't even hiding support for the AIDS attack anymore, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be loyal to them, no no no no.