Now I'm gonna hafta teach this moron how to walk - Incredible Two Headed Transplant (attended by Ian Wattenmaker with Jimmy Crary in tow

    This essay is about the way the rabid of England have occupied chat online and the many organized crime actions I have seen only to be punished by the authorities for trying to warn other victims.   The assassins behind the terror patrols have worn their horns proudly in a dozen masquerades.   They bellow black grievance when helping the KKK molest and defile someone who has never lived a day above the poverty line.    They bellow sensitivity training and empathy while raping children and calling vivisection mutilation with the catch-all expression of “SO?”   The more people they kill the less that anyone believes anything is wrong, and you will be scolded for trying to take up school time without permission.   I tried talking to police once.  I was arrested without being read my rights, tortured into seizures and put into a halfway house without trial.  My only friend was attacked and raped in a punishment raid.  Oh, by the way, the perpetrators didn’t want that to happen, they are my friends.   They read and scribble anything they want between the lines.   

     The number of murders in cold blood about which I have been warned by signals in advance are countless and overwhelming, some of them mass killings, long before John Stockwell of the CIA followed me to Allentown in 1987 and long after.   I went on foot to Jesse Jackson’s Chicago offices trying to get help and could not believe how coldly I was received.   The monsters on high, assured of their deliberate misread of criminal texts, illegally obtained, manufactured to facilitate Federalist stroking, have already decided how it gonna go and how it ain’t.   I received advance warning of Michael Brown, Alina Sheykhet, Tupac Shakur, Oklahoma Federal, AIDS, Los Vegas and 911, Jackson Labs, the USS Iowa, to name a few.  I am a war toy for these criminals in cinema and banking.   Easily the most ridiculous and perilous espionage witch hunt war operation on record, and behind the voice of Abdul the Terrorist is the ventriloquism of Holocaust Jewry.    What gives? Is HitlerReagan and his snarling, putrid, evil, monomaniacal, fang-dripping, liars club, celebrity-addled punk Ringo Starr, engaged in pacification.  Donald Trump is just a cartoon from Pentagon-Disney, no matter how destructive his dunce cap routine as class bully.

       Word in the street is:  who cares?   The vultures are long since arrived in flocks announcing the Klondike killing.  They have a better hand in their deck than James Watts, who had a Jew, a black and a cripple.  These ones git to play an ace in the hole, an AIDS death in the family they traded in for Federal approvable in failure to warn on the make for a spoils company presentation.   AIDS is a weapon of Ringo Starr.  You mind your place, see, or you will get it for being associated with the fleet off the coast of Hiroshima.   They used my writing as a brace up for the massacre in Miami, there’s reason to suspect the church in Texas, and they gonna keep on going, yes sir, they don’t play honey when there’s money.   The police?   What does that even mean?   The type to shoot a deaf Native American in the back.  A cop did the raping of a deaf girl with Downs Syndrome, I was told, literally, on the street.    You cannot have friends in Moneyland.  The closer they are the more lies you can smell from the stink of their false assurances, such is the British wey.

         So, I don’t mind looking over the unsavory broth of evil that foul and drearily lisp from the drips of molten sweat drooling from the godless tongue of saintly Sir Paul McCartney.    They’ve gotten away with this for years, what’s one more day?    The FBI agrees with Ming Na Wen that by first order of business the queerbait must exonerate Pittsburgh of torture so that his weird injuries are de-victimized and the Hollywood Government should be allowed to lie to protect child mutilating cinema pedophiles from Adolf Hitler, Inc.    To that end they seek an oath of revisionism as doctrine.   If you value the children in your family, they cream, and leave the blank.

         Princess Diana?  JFK, jr.?  Donnie Chin?  Linda Rosen?  So what?  So what?  The foreign English have an obsession, they want K and C.   It is a mutilationist fairy tale for them and sacred to The Rolling Stonehenge of the Jekyll Island first names club.   They orbit their own soothsay, self-regarding it as revealed doctrine from the Allah brainwave of Chase Bank.    They invented lies to mis-attribute to me and engaged in years and years of violent underworld action knowing it was built on lies.          

       I belong to a group known as Humanists.   This is characterized  by the belief that we have an obligation to seek, learn and communicate the truth about the world to keep people informed and working together.   Franklin Graham, a Christian extremist, once said to me in a chain letter in sent to people's homes, "Humanism is the greatest threat to America since communism."  President John Fitzgerald Kennedy is often believed to have been assassinated because of his humanism.  His accused killer has been shown by determined researchers to have been performing a masquerade to make it look like someone killed him that didn't while leaving a trail to those who really did.   Since childhood, when I was attacked in a grueling and cruel underworld organized crime at a place called Pitt I have been censored, shushed, defeated, mistreated, counter-accused, frightened, threatened, arrested, tortured and severely injured for testifying to what was done to me.   My father's book Humanizing the School was dedicated to Martin Luther King.   I paid dearly for his outspokenness.

      Free speech rights and courage get confused.   As a deaf man, I know that the boundaries often in place for those who communicate normally are a little different for people who wave their hands and knock on tables to get attention from each other.   I also know that free speech issues are sometimes limited by people who demand extreme gestures, provocation, ugly words as proof of the purity of the right to speak out.   This results in a backlash against ugly speech that justifies attacking dissent.  

      My story pertains to campus publication freedoms in Pittsburgh.   Because of the evil genius of the way that gay people were being set up and attacked in 1984, an infamous year when I worked at a Medical Library under the FEMA and saw the first books about AIDS, because of this I took an interest in the way gays were being set up and the unlying current in intellectual culture that communicated a feeling that people should label those in power as hypocrites, and promote extreme language.   Gonzo, Chalie Hebdo, Howard Stern, the Shock Jock teams were in play and a local writer of offensive challenges and pornographic advocacy named Adam Eisenstat showed up at Pitt News.  It wasn't my precinct, I was just a writer there, but he mocked me in print as "fondling love beads."  I said to let it go.  I spoke with him and a skinhead leader from Toledo who called him Coldiron.  Additionally the FEMA cornered me into working with one of Reagan's nuclear magnates at Pitt on a Philosophy Fellowship named James W. Child.  

       Later I learned that Adam Eisenstat, who is Jewish, was on KDKA radio as a call-in guest disguising his voice as a Muslim calling himself, "Abdul the Terrorist," and upsetting the radio show host and audience who were accusing him and so on, not knowing they were talking to a Jew, and he thought it was terribly funny.   A short time after that a delivery van where I was working part time veered around schoolbuses when the driver, who was crazy, drove very recklessly.   I quit the job over the incident but found out later that they had named me as a driver.   Eisentat and the owner of the van both were friends with John Shulman, a poet who was hostile towards me and informant at the Post Gazette newspaper who called me on the phone to pit me for eleven weeks publicly against Religious Fundamentalists in questions they asked me about Humanism.  I was wrong to approach free speech this way.  It was a trap by very sadistic individuals.

        Whoever all has taken over our country's politics, you cannot say that they are not clever.   People do not trust, they are surrounded with trickery, they fear, they bite their tongues, and the organization of society has made it impossible for anyone to challenge this conscription to allow the worst and most unimaginable crime to be answered with, "So?" and "So what, who cares?"

      I cannot think of a single thing that outrages and offends anyone more than the truth that innocent people are subject to systemic abuse.  If you try to change the system it will only turn on you.  Our society has become horribly fascist.  As Gandalf said in The Lord of the Rings when the hobbit named Pippin said, "There is no hope!" in answer, "Then we must do without hope."   Or Fanie Lou Hamer, "keep on keep'n on."   

         The rabid make noises now of course, having seen the truth put up perfectly clearly, for fear that I will bring up the evidence that Rev. Harold T. Lewis was in a loutish partnership with Shawn Brooks communicating with the Branch-Davidians and then Timothy McVeigh from Thomas Merton Center where that old Shylock Vince Eirene keeps Mumia Abu Jamal misinformed.    The rabid don’t see the writing on the wall.  Ringo Starr bet Buckingham Palace on the idea that blackmail on behalf of armed and deadly pedophile would win out in a mentalplex chess game over hostage and crying little Jimmy (Don’t Say Like Anne FranK!)  For enforces they produce Black Panthers whose only game is terrorizing a hostage child who the KKK brutally softened up.   I mean, what is valor?  It has no meaning in the garden of syphilis that produces such dishonorable men. 

        As it turns out the letters bear the name of Wattenmaker, a powerful, powerful psychiatrist who created a nerve agent they poisoned a golem with.   The huns told me they were going to hypnotize me.  I was fighting involuntary neuro-compulsion, but although they told me, “look for the lips,” I kept to myself that Edith Wattenmaker’s car was always set to on, because I didn’t want to see her get robbed.   They showed me the principle of the Venus Fly Trap and despite the hair-splitting infinitesimalia of the pseudo-investigation by the true authors, that queer little item always gets overlooked.    The shooting gallery at Kennedy Street on the road to Hollowood Music overlooked.   The names Morandini and Wade Beebe overlooked, St. Bede’s, Ruby and Rudy, overlooked, in favor of an irrationality machine from skunk rock shown all mapped out and planned for the X-termination of Ian Ian’s venus fly trap.

        You only live twice, James Bondage.