From out of the frying pan and into the fire; stuck between a rock and a hard place; expressions like these have long life. Hard-pressed people no doubt all wish there was an Agency for Assurance of Ethical Review and Compassionate Response, but we read that the Attorney General quits over fondling charges, our President courts openly disdain for our principles, leading us to avert our eyes whenever someone scares us by using the word hope. Ever since Rosemary’s Baby gave definition to the notion that anywhere we turn is towards someone lying to our face and meaning us evil even as they give assurances, we have realized it’s a jungle out there and trying to find comfort from even the most reputable sounding offices is playing the wheel in a casino where big loss is at stake. You don’t dare, not least because someone might lie about you, make you the villain of the movie.
Once walking near Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, two young black men came up behind me, the further one very tall and as I looked up to see who stood now confronting me, he shouted, “Look down!” I was so shocked I froze and never saw his face. There seems to be such a shadow over my letters, a killer sense of threatening voice shouting, “Look down!” leading those I try to address to look away. George Jaber, a professor at the Community College of Allegheny County where I was in the Honors Program as a deaf adult suggested that my letter to him was so intense it was rendered invisible by the helplessness it induced. I could scream the poison of the affair like an alcoholic banshee on a skineater holiday and it wouldn’t convey the barest grin of the evil cackling behind the horrid crimes committed at our schools in Pittsburgh by campus visitors just passing through with passports called rock music.
I am not the only Pennsylvanian who knows. Hollywood came to Pittsburgh on a secret mission. The keyword in Hollywood is plot. The plot of this malefic and criminal adventure originating with Geffen Corporation broke the bank for insanity and venom. It is so floodlighting of the celebrity superstate that we are blinded, and contrary to the notions of those who think Pink Floyd can do no wrong, it isn’t benign, they are murderers and they killed many more students than the National Guard at Kent State. Their ringleaders are in a cult associated with war gaming and Gurdjieff Society in West Virginia, led by King Crimson, museum mafia scoundrels working secret tapes and attack prostitutes for ends that show how reckless and scornful their total incapacitation as agents of civilization is, no matter how high they ride on faith concerning their evilization. There has never been such incidence of total betrayers getting whooped up and hysterical support from the faculty themselves, despite the school massacre style of their NASA-happy leader Peter Gabriel.
Honesty and intellectual integrity about my memories beginning with JFK as a voice informed by my father Ryland who was a Peace Corps leader in Liberia, who wrote America’s Stake in Human Rights just off the boat from Northern Japan in World War Two, and who Chaired Pitt’s School for Philosophy of Education, nothing I ever took for special, being surrounded by such men, although it was used to paint me into an exotic corner by highway assassins on the make for social hegemony of their own designs. The depravity of intent behind the way I was targeted is mind-shattering. Despite my intellectual resolve the community of crime managed to negate my scholarship for Poetry to the Pennsylvania Governor’s School for the Arts, negate my father’s distinguished service in war, negate my learning sign language and being inducted into Phi Theta Kappa, negate that I had openly and honestly sought civil assistance regarding severe and unusual injuries proven since to have involved a nerve agent weapon used on me in hostage as a child, negate my ability and desire to fall in love and have a family, and all of this was done to promote the swashbuckling career of a foreign sadist just passing through.
One reason this case has been so eerily but effectively avoided is that in the big, tall shadow of invisible power-broker Ringo Starr the Kennedys themselves were expendable. He remains unanswerable. A secret media idea was gestated by a script they plotted claiming I was a hallucinating follower of John Lennon who was too busy imitating to save his life. I deny it. I deny having anything to do with the script, and they have lied promoting the authors, negating the evidence of terrorism, beatings and torture. Pornographic hegemony leers from the cleft tongue of these British overseers, and their cunning promotes terrible hatred for all dignity and innocence. David Bowie advised King Crimson, I remember them braying of him when I met them only too well. Bowie understood how psychiatry worked. He knew they could attack a witness in the mind by acid rock gaslighting and laugh about it all the way home.
AIDS itself was a Disney event. All jumped back because it made plastic all other dimensions of dialogue. God had struck. We also know that the fact Hitler was hidden in Argentina provided no end of insider paradigm to gross allusion in the offending Hollywood companies helping this movement. I went through a period of hearing voices while Gabriel put me on a song called, That Voice Again, and mused about his new toy, the brainwave sonar of a shithead, loudly. Thomas Mann wrote of the British in 1938, “We could not credit the prospect of their heaped up knavery and manuvering, … believing all those pulings about the brothers in the Sudentanland when we all knew it was never a question of the brothers but of the Skoda works, Czech oil, Hungarian grain.” It was a masterplot within plots, it was super-gears, and after they worked me over real good as a child, they called me on the phone, whistling, “we know who you are and we saw what you did.”
In bondage I was subject to mystical conditioning, learning from innuendo their do or die by bulbar and Stockholm syndrome, learning by being an example the mercy from death when subject to secret penalties of the occult, brought down by these bloodcurdling shadows from campus visitors, calling it illegal draft operations to an emergency war game measure. And so, because it is so horrible, I cannot report what they did.
