I’m glad I became a better writer.  I am writing to testify to my own murder.  I was assassinated by an unidentified registered nurse at Harborview Hospital in Seattle.  The atenolol he gave me was a bullet.  First it unmanned me and damaged my heart.  Now my endocrine system is failing.  This writing concerns you on a number of levels.  The argument it conjures between whether this crime was committed by the hospital underworld as punishment for past behavior or as a retaliation for lamplighting concerning the  AIDS attack is extraordinary history to arrive from a community college.  It would take more pens as honest as my own to surmount the crocodile tears of University faculty and caseworkers retaining their confidences regarding how Pittsburgh played their hand as tribalists orchestrating abomination.  Their methods were purposefully intended to hide retaliation against civil lamplighting regarding the  AIDS attack under the camouflage of a populist move meant to appear as punishment by peers for conflict among rivals predicated on whispers about past behavior.  The  nurse knew it would  induce partial castration followed by endocrine failure and gave no due advisory.   The smoking gun is the way they developed  this.

      I grew up in a Jewish Holocaust Survivor Community.  Like many young children, although hated for not being Jewish, I was exposed early to horrors, trauma and intense, depressing material that scared me for life and left me angling instinctively towards disturbing historic material trying to understand.  I also tasted the romantic tonic of commiseration, sympathy and lore.  For the record, I recall crying to read the recounting  of a Nuremberg witness before the man he saved from castration by asking the  Gestapo to harm him instead, since their victim was young.  The man he had saved hadn’t known of his sacrifice and wept in the aisles of Nuremberg.  To him it mattered most.  It seems insane and bitter to me that a peer and stranger in a public hospital wouldn’t have had more sensitivity for his fellow man.  At times, despite being academic, (if raw material) I have tried to bring forth, my research and advisory have led to Disciplinary Review.  This crime was not the first medieval act allowed by a blitherous case of law mis-enforcement

     The goal of the City of Seattle/State of Washington in luring me there under false pretenses for the kill was practicing in no uncertain respect enforcement of the Kennedy curse.  They have rendered an eventuality commissioned lawlessly to silence a power for future debate.  How we came to spurn our own intellectual heritage to such an insane degree is anybody’s guess, but it played so shrewdly that it was clearly planned with great care.  Robert Fripp of  Great Britain, prominent in their corporate circles, figured as an illegal, paramilitary director who was maneuvering concerning my wildcat investigation into his cold-blooded media apparatus.  He is accustomed to a self-divined role as the acid rock fuhrer of 70’s maniacism and ego trip surrounding the bands he guru’d including the  Beatles, Pink Floyd, Yes and so on, but he is no anarchist.  He does this as a devious church darling.   He gyrates in George Bush white hats of the good guy while serving as a Secret Service mechanic for truly evil millennial mechanics.  I could prove in 25 minutes that a premeditated AIDS war game emerged in his Gurdjieff cult for which he has tried to hotwire confiscation by the perpetrator media while violently seizing and seeking to destroy the evidence.  His counter-attack is proof of premeditation so they are gambling on a campus wide blackout.  For some reason everyone concerned from The University of Pittsburgh and King Crimson to the State of Washington had absolutely no doubt that they could get away with this.

     There was never any doubt that a bypass program was built into the sleight of hand whereby the authors of the crime and war game secured custody of  the plan and text. Yet no defense of their victim was offered, and their claims were never questioned.  Fox Media moved into my house through unwanted step-siblings and had access to all my papers.  In counter-claiming that because I was in “possession” of the letters they had authored that I am therefore to blame for them, the authorities (pretending to be judging in a secret covenant of pseudo-fairness which you might as well call a Taliban) have completely ignored a large array of issues attending:  failure to advise me of my rights, cruel and unusual methods of interrogation, deranged and inflicted and planned injuries, the language of hate crime directed at me, mutilation, kidnapping, torture, neglect, veiled language in the script, adult denial by the culture so using me, and so that while these terrible, deranged issues fall into normality by repetition, the University also seeks to wire around the prolonged brutality and weird sadism through inordinate and criminal neglect of the obvious bias built into the pursuit of bounty by media interrogators acting as profiteers on behalf of genuine monsters, licensing a thrill kill for hun-like profiteer.  It was planned, in their script and in their agenda to laugh while seeing me try to talk my way out of HIV injection by one of their own suicide pilots. For a long time they disallowed explanation and arrested me for even communicating.  How lewd of morals to render it laughable by consigning such indecency to the psychiatrist chair.

      Faculty women were devoid of counter-chivalry.  I was absent from school due to torture in plain view of many women.  I was defamed for crying in shame while accepting their terms, that  they had the right  to use me and discard me, which they did.  Instead of realizing that I needed medical attention from neurotrauma, they targeted a deviously impacted neurotrauma, full knowing it was there and that I didn’t, to sell the plan as a contagion burlesque conjured in mockery as a spoof on what they construed as a cheater wishing marriage, validating it as though just some psycho’s revenge from the era of abduction by child mutilationists covering themselves by calling themselves free love advocates, while attending to me as a nightmare guinea pig with slaughtering blows.  The Faculty women sought and succeeded first in hitting me below the belt as a deaf man they used for a sex toy and then settling accounts for their lies and hypocrisy by allowing the AIDS attackers to lie and claim they were getting even.

       Sisters of Mercy say about this tragedy, don’t be sad, we’ll pray for you.  I’ve seen this before.  There was a church in Maine (Maine is where the AIDS war game went down) with a branch in Guyana.  They would snap their fingers at us, “If you died right now do you believe you would go to heaven?  Come on, come on,” like a 33 rpm record running on 78.  How Franklin Graham cheered when Jim Jones razed the terrain there, because Jesus would now have more land.  Robert Fripp, a partner of Franklin Graham, jibbered that the 60’s “went tragically off-course.”  I suppose that rotten John Lennon had nothing to do with it?  Ringo Starr uses names like Shawn Beard at Mercy for his apparatus, to connote his syncopation to the plans of Shawn Brooks, who locked me out of a church as a child when I was pleading for help against murderers who brutalized and kidnapped me.  These fiends from hell are not musicians.  They deranged ripper hatters.  They got another laugh setting a fiance to masquerade.

       We hear a lot about things that matter, this matters, that matters, but the first matters, and the first time I heard this business of matters was when Martin Andelman of MandelmanMatters sat on the edge of Lake Erie laughing and chanting, “It just doesn’t matter.  It just doesn’t matter.”  While Glenn McKenzie, an LSD peddling  attorney and partner of Pete Wyma who my mother brought me into far too much contact with as a child, followed him around droning, “what you must keep thinking is that it just doesn’t matter.”  Who was Andelman?  A close early childhood friend of Leslie Katz, and maybe a little later Miles Kirshner.  They are the ones who claimed I was a social inadequate worthy only of being spit upon, subject the magic Xala of torture and cruel, cruel stigma.   He lived across the street from Saul Brecher with Andrea Swimmer’s “brother” Alvar.  Swimmer worked for CMU when they began picking on their neuroplasm their perverts impacted.  Andelman was a childhood friend of Leslie Katz, whose employer Connie Bolanis was a neighbor to the Fords who signed me up for my Social Security card beginning with the numbers 1984.  Their father was a Pittsburgh cop.  I tried to get help from Saul for theft at Fulton School’s office and from the Fords partner Carmen Colucci by retrieving a purse he threw in a gutter for the woman he robbed and by reporting him to the precinct of Officer Ford.   Obviously I was in over my head.  Instead of helping me, ringmaster Ringo Starr made sure the AIDS combine knew I was snitching on them, and  heavy metalled the alibi program in a policy of British scorched earth tracing to the Union Jack in the gutter of Dealey Plaza.  Andelman was partners with Thos. Gordon of Harvard social anthropology who Ringo Starr said committed a date rape so he gets to rape my deaf advocate.

      The language of the criminals is heaped with manufacture:  they speak of X-amples, stalk and score on me for their legendary pussyball ledger, they write of “the persona” being “subjected to successive degradations of the X-motive,” and laugh openly of kidnapping me and subjecting me to “brutal fortissimo poundings.”  Nobody has ever cared that I was horrifically misused.  That alone is proof of a sinister underworld engulfing me.

      AIDS came from a medieval stake burning cult who claimed they were saving the souls of the damned.  I was condemned by this cult as guilty of possession, not of their script, but of carrying the enemy within.  To fulfill their evil purpose they condemned me to a civil death for the purpose of spiritual society newly crowned with brainwave sonar.  Abortion, they say, siphoned from a flesh and blood effigy, adds up to the moral equivalent of rape.  It also came from a movement of the 60’s who wrote HAIR called, “Antidisestablishmentarianists.”  It means that they are against (anti) disestablishment types, people who didn’t want the war in Vietnam in other words, but they are also much, much more than just anti, they are mentarianists, which means they plot, they are sneaky, they trick and then they brag.

     Washington State Board of Health investigation: #2007-04-0076RN came to a dead end.