eggnog
December 23rd, 2007, 02:24 PM
The Benevolence Trip
by Mac Crary
copyright 2007
It's important for an alienated writer to avoid being forced by poverty into Public Relations writing for institutions who abused him and the tactics of coercion to that ends are many. It is not beneath the status quo of the Velvet Revolution to poison or withhold the food supply. When the mentally ill are mistreated it is a shocking grievance that seldom surfaces and escalates whenever the Velvets can sneer that the object of their torments harbors "dangerous thoughts". Abuse is hidden and for structural reasons the abused are helpless. Beware writing P.R. for such poisoners, but beward failure to do so all the more. The conflicted mind is a game for Vaclav Havel. It is not unusual for a mental hospital to regard their charges as human resources for malpractice experiments. Diagnostic blackmail alone accounts for a whole world of surrender and unjustified compliance requirements.
Recently I wrote a letter to a Chinatown newspaper. I didn't say anything wrong in it. I refuted the idea that there are no victims in our society whose claims have any merit or right to airtime. I said I thought different elements of society should work to solve such problems together. I didn't say I wanted to join a commune under the discipleship of men who tortured me.
What enemies I have, due first to my father's work on behalf of Blacks, and then from Blacks themselves when they sold out to power, have gotten plenty of satisfaction from the unprovoked beastiality of Peter J. Sinfield (King Crimson) towards one unlucky fan. The fact that Blacks would target someone in the home is a chilling commentary on what Dr. King's movement became under Colin Powell.
Those who released AIDS pigeonholed me as the sort of Jew who believes in peace at any price. They recruited me to use me as an ideological weapon to claim the murderers are victims of society, to preach forgiveness, togetherness and the yearning to put the AIDS outrage behind us. Although I have written letters to a variety of quarters, I have stopped at this as a matter of civil and criminal law. I own no weapons. And they would kill everyone in my family, one by one, at the slightest excuse.
It is necessary to reverse course on any perception that I mean to amend to those who have slaved me in the ludicrous name of John Lennon. Until this sick society can do something to address the fact that those who started AIDS are at large and influential among us, I'm almost inclined to advocate an every man for himself attitude and social philosophy. It's just not fair to ask people to mingle in good faith with such assassins.
At the Seattle Newspaper Establishment, there appears to be no end of confederacy with the Clintons and Peter Sinfield. Sinfield sneers that I had a grandfather at the Post-Dispatch in St. Louis, a father at the University of Pittsburgh. Why didn't I tell anyone if it wasn't fear of self-incrimination? I would be taken by surprise, gassed into unconsciousness. I would be taken out alone among a hungry mob of sordid adult killers. Ronnie Goldie battered me with such a flurry of blows out of the clear blue sky that I fell practically unconscious the sidewalk. The cowardly English projects his blame to mask collusion. I didn't read the Burstyn letters very closely. They seemed all like love letters from a member of the Jewish intelligensia. I can imagine them seeming that way to almost anyone who didn't study them closely. Even an adult. The coward Fripp's loathsomeness in terrorizing by rape, poison and hate crime will not bring the Seattle Fifth Estate happiness. Nor will your children tolerate a religious police state just because they succeed in sacrificing someone they have been taught to hate by their messiahs of rock and roll. You have been dirty finks.
I have done my level best not to hate Japan, but Japan helped them to do this. I can't speak for every clerk, but Japan is devolving by the lead of American gangsterism into functionairies of a board of assassins practicing intimidation as a form of ultimatum. Long discounted scare stories now seem true in breath-taking vulgarity. Yoko Ono sneers that she did not write the Burstyn letters, therefore she GITS to rape deaf Jeannie. While it is true that Japan has some of the greatest things to offer the world and that for its good, its beauty and its art, it is my favorite country in the world, due to mistreatment I have come to all but hate them.
One thing I've learned from years of abuse at the hands of Yoko Ono, is how INTO humiliating people and violating them sexually she is. She puts out an album called "Open Your Box" and then accuses someone else of harboring a rapist mentality. Yoko Ono's trickery in planting the AIDS letters on my house and then using sex to depict me as a tyrant not only allowed her to recruit the victims into her revenge, but to make them not care what they had died for. Her new age brainbeam broadcast system, capable of waking someone up at 3 a.m to the sound of her voice croaking, "I WON" should have been derided by civil rights activists. Instead, they raped a retarded girl. Hitler used the Beatles as the weapon of his revenge and final atrocity, but even with him at long last dead in Mendoza, Argentina in 1987, it's only the beginning.
I do not like Japan anymore. Maybe something can be done. It would be nice to forgive and forget what they did in World War Two. I certainly never liked having that war thrown at Ichiro. But they haven't changed and they've gotten worse with America as their New Germany.
When Condoleeza Rice states that America has no permanent enemies, she certainly for speaks for me and I how I feel about America and Japan. There is no reward in wasting life acting as an enemy towards another, but I will always hate America There's a difference between hate and acting as an enemy. I will live my life in a friendly, non-violent way, because I do not intend torture to change my nature. But that's just how it is. For one thing, if I so much as succeed in a lawsuit, the Geffen Corporation and the so-called Plague Mass scam will murder the children of my siblings. America is my home. All my friends are here. So how is a self so divided? Rape and torture by government thugs and their functionairies that is what how.
John Lennon was a supremacist. The Japanese racist instinct gravititated towards him to lay claim. The best of the best. The Beatles treated Billy Preston no better than Humphrey Bogart treated Dooley Wilson. It was their English pedigree to demean the other shamefully. Everyone knows this about Lennon, but the Imperial Conditioning of rock music loveslavery forbids its discussion. A war broke out, but it wasn't to defend AIDS victims or to capture the guilty. It was exclusively a egomaniacal affair of Robert Fripp and Colin Powell for sexual conquest of Midori Goto. She went along with and instigated it. Midori was the symbol of life in their warped vision, adopted from Hitler. Blacks betrayed the AIDS victims by following Colin Powell.
The goal of Nazi Germany is still the same. To heap derision on the powerless.
Mac Crary
Chinatown
by Mac Crary
copyright 2007
It's important for an alienated writer to avoid being forced by poverty into Public Relations writing for institutions who abused him and the tactics of coercion to that ends are many. It is not beneath the status quo of the Velvet Revolution to poison or withhold the food supply. When the mentally ill are mistreated it is a shocking grievance that seldom surfaces and escalates whenever the Velvets can sneer that the object of their torments harbors "dangerous thoughts". Abuse is hidden and for structural reasons the abused are helpless. Beware writing P.R. for such poisoners, but beward failure to do so all the more. The conflicted mind is a game for Vaclav Havel. It is not unusual for a mental hospital to regard their charges as human resources for malpractice experiments. Diagnostic blackmail alone accounts for a whole world of surrender and unjustified compliance requirements.
Recently I wrote a letter to a Chinatown newspaper. I didn't say anything wrong in it. I refuted the idea that there are no victims in our society whose claims have any merit or right to airtime. I said I thought different elements of society should work to solve such problems together. I didn't say I wanted to join a commune under the discipleship of men who tortured me.
What enemies I have, due first to my father's work on behalf of Blacks, and then from Blacks themselves when they sold out to power, have gotten plenty of satisfaction from the unprovoked beastiality of Peter J. Sinfield (King Crimson) towards one unlucky fan. The fact that Blacks would target someone in the home is a chilling commentary on what Dr. King's movement became under Colin Powell.
Those who released AIDS pigeonholed me as the sort of Jew who believes in peace at any price. They recruited me to use me as an ideological weapon to claim the murderers are victims of society, to preach forgiveness, togetherness and the yearning to put the AIDS outrage behind us. Although I have written letters to a variety of quarters, I have stopped at this as a matter of civil and criminal law. I own no weapons. And they would kill everyone in my family, one by one, at the slightest excuse.
It is necessary to reverse course on any perception that I mean to amend to those who have slaved me in the ludicrous name of John Lennon. Until this sick society can do something to address the fact that those who started AIDS are at large and influential among us, I'm almost inclined to advocate an every man for himself attitude and social philosophy. It's just not fair to ask people to mingle in good faith with such assassins.
At the Seattle Newspaper Establishment, there appears to be no end of confederacy with the Clintons and Peter Sinfield. Sinfield sneers that I had a grandfather at the Post-Dispatch in St. Louis, a father at the University of Pittsburgh. Why didn't I tell anyone if it wasn't fear of self-incrimination? I would be taken by surprise, gassed into unconsciousness. I would be taken out alone among a hungry mob of sordid adult killers. Ronnie Goldie battered me with such a flurry of blows out of the clear blue sky that I fell practically unconscious the sidewalk. The cowardly English projects his blame to mask collusion. I didn't read the Burstyn letters very closely. They seemed all like love letters from a member of the Jewish intelligensia. I can imagine them seeming that way to almost anyone who didn't study them closely. Even an adult. The coward Fripp's loathsomeness in terrorizing by rape, poison and hate crime will not bring the Seattle Fifth Estate happiness. Nor will your children tolerate a religious police state just because they succeed in sacrificing someone they have been taught to hate by their messiahs of rock and roll. You have been dirty finks.
I have done my level best not to hate Japan, but Japan helped them to do this. I can't speak for every clerk, but Japan is devolving by the lead of American gangsterism into functionairies of a board of assassins practicing intimidation as a form of ultimatum. Long discounted scare stories now seem true in breath-taking vulgarity. Yoko Ono sneers that she did not write the Burstyn letters, therefore she GITS to rape deaf Jeannie. While it is true that Japan has some of the greatest things to offer the world and that for its good, its beauty and its art, it is my favorite country in the world, due to mistreatment I have come to all but hate them.
One thing I've learned from years of abuse at the hands of Yoko Ono, is how INTO humiliating people and violating them sexually she is. She puts out an album called "Open Your Box" and then accuses someone else of harboring a rapist mentality. Yoko Ono's trickery in planting the AIDS letters on my house and then using sex to depict me as a tyrant not only allowed her to recruit the victims into her revenge, but to make them not care what they had died for. Her new age brainbeam broadcast system, capable of waking someone up at 3 a.m to the sound of her voice croaking, "I WON" should have been derided by civil rights activists. Instead, they raped a retarded girl. Hitler used the Beatles as the weapon of his revenge and final atrocity, but even with him at long last dead in Mendoza, Argentina in 1987, it's only the beginning.
I do not like Japan anymore. Maybe something can be done. It would be nice to forgive and forget what they did in World War Two. I certainly never liked having that war thrown at Ichiro. But they haven't changed and they've gotten worse with America as their New Germany.
When Condoleeza Rice states that America has no permanent enemies, she certainly for speaks for me and I how I feel about America and Japan. There is no reward in wasting life acting as an enemy towards another, but I will always hate America There's a difference between hate and acting as an enemy. I will live my life in a friendly, non-violent way, because I do not intend torture to change my nature. But that's just how it is. For one thing, if I so much as succeed in a lawsuit, the Geffen Corporation and the so-called Plague Mass scam will murder the children of my siblings. America is my home. All my friends are here. So how is a self so divided? Rape and torture by government thugs and their functionairies that is what how.
John Lennon was a supremacist. The Japanese racist instinct gravititated towards him to lay claim. The best of the best. The Beatles treated Billy Preston no better than Humphrey Bogart treated Dooley Wilson. It was their English pedigree to demean the other shamefully. Everyone knows this about Lennon, but the Imperial Conditioning of rock music loveslavery forbids its discussion. A war broke out, but it wasn't to defend AIDS victims or to capture the guilty. It was exclusively a egomaniacal affair of Robert Fripp and Colin Powell for sexual conquest of Midori Goto. She went along with and instigated it. Midori was the symbol of life in their warped vision, adopted from Hitler. Blacks betrayed the AIDS victims by following Colin Powell.
The goal of Nazi Germany is still the same. To heap derision on the powerless.
Mac Crary
Chinatown