The rabid lisps its slippery back dagger and poison crime venoms that even a street poet with traumatic brain injury knows that it is wrong to accept a vial of cocaine on his 18th birthday from a pedophile breaking his sister’s ribs. It’s goal in this assessment is to show the dreadful threat to virginity at work. The glowering tong of Al Gore, a driven man and born loser, again asserts itself into the blackout, sniffing up the rear, just like a good Gore should. To make progress against the felony allegation put together by a weblike puzzle box maker’s pseudo-analytical machine at Carnegie Mellon is worth a moment’s reflection and analysis of the system itself.
What we find in Penis Gabriel’s SO is the proof that they worked with Wattenmaker and Burstyn on the AIDS attack, using the spirit of John Lennon for their game, while he was effectively evacuated for the performance art method of bringing visionaries to the avenue. It isn’t really all that possible to work out who was more hypocritical about drug traffick, the Central American mercenaries in the CIA or Warhol Museum, but the case of a felony allegation about Jimmy Creary doesn’t exactly hinge on moral consistency by the machine. What had become of the President’s sense, Lewis Lapham asked rhetorically. Jimmy C. was the Presidential effigy of flesh and blood, nothing less would do, a dramatic element from the US San Jacinto. How interesting that High Command is so conspicuous in a nerve agent induced case of mind control of truly huge stakes, in a game of will-less-ness and Rosemary’s Baby, but one where nothing is real, where absolute control is less important than the confusion of a battered deaf person seeking to warn. Curious.
Interestingly, the planting of cocaine on someone who was in no position to try to stop them underwrites not only vivisection but an idea of child soldier status arming the street children with nuclear weapons, as exemplified by the idea of Buttons McCormick, whose brother led the mob scene where Penis Gabriel’s faction, Shawn Brooks, locked me out of church to demonstrate their Charles Bronson power of wife-theft. I will go into this. Just be patient. I see no hurry in answering felony charges issued from an interrogation network run by the supplier.