The British made fools of an entire generation.   They came after me with a battle axe over a woman who by her own admission I did no harm, but their clever plan had many objectives, and they had softened me up into a neuro-traumatic state of terror to torment.   Accusing me of breaking contact with their political correctness council of queers, they announced that trying to make one penny of personal wealth on my hard labor as a disabled man would result in a death sentence, and slasher murdered Shannon Harps to example their cruelty.   They raped my deaf advocate and claimed it was mercy because they did not transmit AIDS, adding...yet.   According to the rabids, I had entered into a secret contract of acceptance of death in service to the tribe of the generation first affected by their attack and that even if I did not it was binding upon me anyway.  By transfer of blame philosophy they snapped that I deserve AIDS and by this method incurred many injuries under cover of their disordered concept of license.   Denying that I had a right to stay away from a culture who intended me poison they afflicted me for evasion and subjected me to brutality despite the proven fact that the intention of their council is poison.

    The murderers gyrated that the only way to find out what was behind the mystery was to enter their trap, like the horrible film the vanisher about a man lured to his death wanting to know what became of his lover.   The rabid called me an untouchable and steamed up all sorts of malice and shaming, while gibbering against stigma, in famous plotting disguised as a reaction committee. They accused me of being unclean, while denying themselves unwashed and contagious intentionally.  They accused me of resisting contagion and therefore announced the castration they subjected me to was justified.   It was all evidence of their own hoary guilt in the matter that they would invent and take to such a weird format, legitimize it, and lure a perfect stranger into it in such a horribly deranged way, and yet the Federal Bureau of Investigation are partners of this child pornography and X-termination syndicate, who say they communicate with the spirit of Lennon.

        By transfer of blame and the legend that I should be infected they covered for every manner of crime, many of them sex crimes, and terribly deranged exploitation.   They practiced disaggregation to keep the tumblers churning while belting out a formula of Redemption Cinema using the Eugenic theory for their Two Virgins Race Pussyball sneering that because an Indian woman seduced me years earlier the NAACP had a right to raid my marriage plans.

        All in accordance with their own script they promised me death if I tried to escape.