The Official Story: A Theory of Tyranny

[AmericanPig]

In an episode of I Love Lucy, Lucy Recardo deviously hears that a bean dealer has pledged double your money back if they aren’t the best beans the customer ever tasted. After buying enough to redecorate her house at the end she sits down with only a can of beans handy and cries because they are the best beans she ever tasted, she wants to give everything back. This is a standard of honesty the attackers claim that I lack. They have had plenty of opportunity to make the first move by being real about how abominably I have been mistreated.

According to Lennon’s Taliban his play is too beautiful to throw away. Just forgive and it will just like starting over. It’s enticing. What does one man’s suffering matter especially when it could inspire the hardest of hearts in the world to do likewise. If you can forgive, anyone can forgive will be your admission to the kingdom. Imagine forgiveness. In return this newly enlightened Axis partner will be reformed.

By stating my case about what I lived through and witnessed I am accused of doing Trump a favor. I have overstated his villainy and made him the victim. Forgiving, in other words, exactly what? The script has never been admitted. Is this a titanic spectacle in the making, a tyrant’s preparation for his last stand in an ultimatum? Or a fantasy from the mind of a sick, unpopular man?

Donald Trump and I had very different mothers despite the script calling me a chosen brother. His mother treated him as though he could never do wrong. Mine treated me as though I could never do anything right. She conflated small errors into huge crimes and punished me good by her raucous voice, bringing her fury to fever pitch, a one woman heavy metal band. When it was suggested I should be medicated without my consent you should have seen the bliss with which she said, “I agree.”

They say they found this script and it was too pretty to throw away. Though they are not model men, I should be held in ransom to be or die. In Chinatown today, mid-August 2020 I saw elderly survivors masked up on their daily promenade. As an infant in a crib at a place they called the Ruskin I was first shown the book, “King of the Golden River,” which I read avidly growing up. The Cinderella white boy was abused by mean brothers. When one mean brother saw a thirsty old man he said, “you have had your share of life,” but not Gluck. Gluck gave his last drops and was later rewarded by the King of Dew.

I was slow to understand morality. I cried when dad made me return a quarter given me at Ben’s for a nickel. Niles and I found Sunny Dollars 1000 halves, he got the good one and I suggested we trade. He tore it up. It was a stern rebuke by someone deep. Would this signify his cult’s willingness to signal a majestic show of mercy and sharing if the chosen of the script would merely forgive? Am I not the embodiment of mankind after the atom blast, due to being a sport and kin of Bush’s very ship?

Just keep the promise to forgive. Given that the script was about their ruthlessness in AIDS and the Covid achievement, after terrible entrapment, geriatricide, the suffering ahead for me personally from injuries and sickness caused by poison, should I tell the motherfuckers to drop dead? Am I doing them a favor by refusing to enlist?

This was already the mother of all conspiracies, H.G. Wells stuff at its worst. As the object I found out why the hustlers in law enforcement don’t make good on any of the evidence. It issues from holding me as a marked man for the terrible precedent of a brainwave resonator. Rather than allow that to get around, Seattle Times enlisted themselves in observing me, no one doing more than their favorite Youssou N’dour in pulling for Trump in the Reagan Years. Reagan was always one who made films running Americans down. A war bride who wanted to sleep with a man she loved before battle he ran down for her moral code. He depicted the Midwest as weakling. These enlisters cannot ask the question if little Jimmy, the last to know he was dead, wasn’t handling a script he was unaware of well, why not intervene and do better? Was self-destruction the only thing they could think of that would help? How droll.

To see making admission that I was tortured as a child to be a deal broken is scary. It means they don’t care anything about the truth. Chiding me that I am buying into identity crime by my testimony and relevant questions about the I am the Walrus script, they retaliated saying therefore they can use any name they want and interpret any miscarriage in any way that resonates with them, brings sensation from a mentality, stimulates and that the is the picture they scribbled around killing my father and Saoirse. This comes from a mind and circuit bankrupting themselves as divorced from any search for truth. They use such wangles as Trump get to do what he wants to get even while functioning as war games printed books with titles like: Propaganda for the Heart.

This is very 60’s, good vibrations, this should resonate with you, stuff. Although they are partners in all this, John Stockwell of the CIA had a lot to say in his evaluation toolbox that could be used to dismantle Robert Fripp. Fripp believes his has ESP and his music is the telluric current. One insufficiently awe struck student he blamed when a disciple dropped his guitar. Like Geo. Schultz who Stockwell derided,the ogre announces judgment without evidence because of his infallible hunch.

Fripp probably had James Child tell me my poetry was affected rubbish. Provincially I am enough Pittsburgh native that people who try their hand at the slang get a little uneasy about my yinzer tong. It’s too real. This is a dangerous situation for Adrian Belew because he is an itinerant fake who sold the idea of Yoko Ono confiscating my language to Poplar Bluff. I grew up watching the Wild, Wild West and saw a variety of TV shows with variations on Tartuffe, the idea of a villain convincing the good kind of folk of his sincerity getting them to swear, we believe you! You! While he laughs behind their backs, saying we have those squatters right where we want them now.

This was tragic because not only did the superclass mogul scare me into turning back the only letter I received from my grandpa’s best friends Bob and Opal, but it was used to identify the one-cent line by Dialectical UWists who murdered Shannon Harps, too, for Trump and Ono. Over a penny. After a long homeless ordeal.

The sociological malpractice from UW is important to identify in measure for its organization existing before the current attack and the goals at work in limiting our options. Trump has shut down our immigrant sensibilities by inducing fear and social distancing.

The dialectic of social distancing is important not only because of the mad variable of disease entering into the prayer of Martin Luther King about a garment of mutuality but because of the cunning of the NAACP in being Reagan’s bodyguard in the first attack. I’ve editorialized about that. Arthur Ford is a black man who publishes poetry from all over the country and he says that Blacks are guilty of racism towards white people who mean them no harm. This is denied by the NAACP because they used me and don’t want a snitch. That is why the Right to Know Laws were pushed aside about Mt. Desert Island, instead of the perpetrators halted. The moral of John Lennon in the matter is the final call that if you get money your first purchase had better be a weapon.

If truth were in any way admissible I would have been rescued. Black Lives Matters stands in the way of truth sometimes, probably not always. For example, National Boundaries and Media Prerogative had more to do with Greta Thunberg getting through, I think probably, when Black African ecologists don’t get the same airplay. She is trying her best to speak for an issue that concerns all of us, it isn’t because she is a white supremacist.

Robert Fripp toured with Frippertronics in a society called Gjurdiev or something. They will unplug your matrix behind your back and then play dumb. They specialize in hounding people through irregular controls. They also are trained to be stubborn and enjoy spitefully bringing their rivals to road rage. Trumpotronics is tyrannytronics. The similarity of Gabbard to Goddard is all wrapped up in his mindset and spin control, having played his first concert in America at Goddard.