Hillary’s Motto: Keep it Loathsome

Police will never help me and I happen to know why. Not only was the Pittsburgh Police Union involved in the terrible reprisals visited upon me in mockery and sadism towards my father Ryland’s career at the University of Pittsburgh, making them among the most horrible examples of Nazism in the history of the 20th Century, macabre acts of vivisection from PITT, mutilation of a gradeschool child, terrible bondage by violent pedophile circuits, child pornography, terrible stalking and lifelong campaigns of defamation, but police pornographers extended their guild to the AIDS Experiment on Mt. Desert Island, titillating British queers, promising them a landstake and then after years of studying the neuroplasm they operated again detonating it. The motto of Hillary Clinton in the matter is: Keep it loathsome, for Leslie.

In addition to Peter Gabriel’s Green Party espionage, friends of my mother, the Chancellor of the University, at least one Judge, and the Bar Association’s most powerful members were involved in a community-wide cover operation created after I lapsed into traumatic amnesia. Their goal was help Gail Burstyn turn it around and depict me as a community menace. Burstyn was introduced to me by a woman named Shelley Friedman who appears to be the Magistrate of that name downtown, and her partner, Leslie Katz, was named in the letters in a designated role relative to the murder of John Lennon. Police and Peter Gabriel took her side to minimize public understanding about Will Zell on Mt. Desert Island and what it meant that a war game was in operation from 1974 in anticipation of the AIDS Onslaught.

The State of Pennsylvania came at it as simple-minded politicians. The problems I had with Leslie are commonplace dialogues about self-image during rejection and the way that women on campus lay down the law to their own advantage. They took it into AIDS territory by misreading my letter and tuning into the terrible head trauma which they claimed was making me a terrible boyfriend, nevermind deafness or Leslie’s vagina monologue and cruel manipulation.

The game involved wiring my home to listen to the ins and outs of my involvement with other women, some of whom were paid for and sponsored by the attorney syndicate who released AIDS. By invading my home they were allowed to reshape the argument about child torture into community defense from the victim while denying me intervention concerning a neuroplasm they had impacted purposefully to create internal conditions of personality change, the most brutal, campus-wide Truman Show ever manipulated, and the Beatles loved it for the murderous hostage it allowed them as private prison operators, a prison so private, the victim did not even know they were in prison, nor for what crime they had even been charged.

I had been charged with the crime of not knowing about a plot on the life of John Lennon.

Miles Kirshner was a partner of Gail Burstyn, and a brutal specialist in leading me as a victim into compromising situations. John Stockwell spoke of the horror that Leftist campus activists have of introspection because he knew that I was on the run from a maniacal pedophile film corporation who had mutilated me as a child. Terror of death threats was shaping my personality. The aging process leading me towards the overcoming of severe fear, which is a test of manhood. They taunted me into sarcasm and drafted me into illegal war games viciously sniping at my condition as though it had been self-inflicted.

The psychopaths in our political offices surmounted any semblance of common decency. They put my murdered father on trial in public as a Red Witch. The list of crimes they committed against me is long and hateful. They used me for vivisection as a child, they bukkake’d me, something Michael Reagan can’t get enough of hearing about. They brutally tortured me, and so on. They called it their political realism and scoffed at the idealism of my father at PITT. They took it into the realm of AIDS testing and castration as government warfare in malice, taunting me about Leslie so it could be added up to ideological lines in the sand in defense of the test case in Jewish feminazism as a basis for the AIDS war game.

Nobody protested. Nobody came to my defense. Attorney was denied me. I was shoved into isolation when the internet came on so they could scowl at the suspicious activity of a man in his 30’s having been sexually mauled trying to sustain a sense of company through online adult cinema from Japan, a necessary sooth to the neuroplasm they inflicted, calling their terroristic attack prostitution therapy in derision. The frightful impact of pornography is to give these murdering syphilitics another avenue for criminal intent towards me.

The community vowed that they have no obligation to investigate, no duty to protect a victim of atrocity, and are in no mind to do anything but play it out towards eerie mortification of their prey. By talking about their most odious war crime, the home invasion by Rosa, I play into their hands, clear evidence that being violated that way is obsession. When I talk about Rosa, after 23 years in isolation as they played her song of the good life on me in Hitlerian Lennon revenge, the chemical castration is eyed as proof of bad blood. It feeds them about Leslie. That is how rigged their psychological operation is and it was planned.

Jimmy Crary was fed lines into a script writing device. I Love Rosa is in fact a very famous Israeli film. It was a war game of serious nature, a very serious game, one in which the book, given to me by Miles Kirshner, Trinity by Leon Uris played a major role. They tied up the protagonist after murdering his girlfriend so he could scream. How much more delicious the screams if the girlfriend came to them willingly in sexuality to serve?

As Martha Gellhorn said of Dachau, “It did no man ever any good whatsoever to cry out from this place.”

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