The Black Atrocitarians

The essence of the AIDS quandary as presented by the odious junta of Ronald Reagan is the idea that World Culture, which is predominately fundamentalist religion, led by the Church of England, and their sinister toadies in rock music enterprises, had the right to run it by a child they brutally molested and in having me fail to understand permit them to exact tribute in human sacrifice. This violation of my Civil Rights as an American has come up against the personality cults of Hollywood. In their ruthlessness, they impacted not only a very severe neuroplasm but covered it up with schizophrenia. Their goal is to prevent those who might have recognized the tragedy of having our national estate derailed by assassins refuse to understand based on the excuses extended to them.

You find in the incredible deceit of Hitler’s forces, a good example being King Crimson, and their warped obsession with survivor guilt psychology, a vicious dance around the grudge politics of the HIV infected, a terrible hatred of commonsense, plain speech, and simple truth, and there’s a reason for this, they don’t want you to know that the orchestrations of union gangsterism in the staged and phony uprising commissioned in the name of the victims was planned by the assassin group, they don’t want you to understand that Gail Burstyn was a confederate of Mark David Chapman and that Sean Strub went to the Dakota that night with Chapman as a partner of Burstyn. They don’t want you to understand that Mt. Desert Island was a joke by the behemoth where Ringo Starr took the side of those who started AIDS.

Pussyball eugenics over Midori Goto played to the libidal egoism of Black Panther culture and allowed them to claim tribute was being exacted when in reality they were co-architects of the character assassination program underwriting the AIDS Onslaught and partners of those who started AIDS. Once the victims were fooled by Black Confederates of Reagan and Hitler into a scheme to give them symbolic tribute in return for collaborationism, a dividing of the spoils, the notion of public safety, timely warning and apprehension of the guilty was subverted into self-deception cemented by approval by the Beatles.

Black Atrocitarians emerged presenting pussyball and stigma for sexual freedom as a moral drama designed disingenuously to trigger pro-Reagan psychosis as he masqueraded as the victim while enforcing loyalty to the assassin group. Out of the virulence of greed and organized deceit involved, the Green Party, led by Black Panthers, believed they smelled a lucrative franchise in which a high stakes gambler’s psychology against the weaponizing of AIDS would find them with victims beholden to them and willing to execute their cutthroat processes, which is the message of their support for Will Zell and the slasher homicide of Shannon Harps, a major symbolic factor in the alliance brokered by London.

It is important to remember that all of this was based on identity crime. I had nothing to do with the murder of John Lennon. Lewis Lapham intoned as a sacrificial backstab from New York City that the bizarre and twisted idea that I was the guilty party because I cudda saved John Lennon, which they simultaneously deny to prevent penetration of their farce, intoned in order to give creepy orchestration to the soundtrack to atrocity provided by Ming Na Wen and Pentagon Disney services at Carnegie Mellon which had nothing to do with the truth, calling me the perpetrator of Alpana’s decision to entrap, ensnare and seduce me, depicted as the driver at Kelly School.

The divided truth, split between things as they were and David Bowie’s plastic reality collusion in Reagan’s Hitlerism, is clearly illustrated by the incident in the third week of March of 1974 outside Vento’s Pizza in East Liberty. On that evening, a gang consisting of Michael Martino, Ronnie Zsinski, Gary and Danny Pitman and others unknown to me, slammed me into the glass, pummeled me to the ground, stomped on my head and proceeded to batter with deadly intent a hundred pound, timid waif, until two courageous black teenagers came out of Vento’s Pizza and at great risk to themselves chased the gang off, asking me if I were alright. It was perfectly obvious to these young men that I was an innocent victim being abused. Yet when the cinema lights went on in the only place I could take refuge from that gang, being the house of the monster Don Ostro, a sickening pedophile druglord, police syndicates and The Green Party, out of the virulence of their organized deceit, hostility and greed, decided to abide by the presentation of me as a child sex object worthy of spite rather than tears, and the maniacs in Ku Blackery descended from Hollywood to intone their sacrilegious justifications for a comprehensive torture and false witness campaign.

The brutal murderers used neuroplastic hypnosis to forcibly humiliate me by running their interrogation yammer through the neuroplasm, extruding by seizures their defecations upon my soul to the gurgles of Ringo Starr as Yoko Ono presented to The Distinguished Citizens of the Midwest one of their grandchildren, paraded like a hostage Army man by North Korea, explaining that bukkake is semen dripping down the nose of a nine year old waking in pain of humiliation by Peter Sinfield’s familiars like Saul Brecher in the penumbra of Kings Estate. For nothing would these sordid child mutilationists stop.

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Mac Crary’s father, Ryland Wesley Crary, was the author of the textbook: Humanizing the School

 

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