Letter to the Government of West Virginia

I am an adult deaf student in good standing at the Community College of Allegheny County in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I returned to school in the Summer of 2014 and since that time have taken six classes for a total of 19 credits. My attendance was perfect, and my grades were Straight A’s. After one last class this Summer I will graduate with an Associate Degree in General Studies. It was a long time coming. In order to return to school and achieve my goals I had to learn sufficient Sign Language to overcome the obstacle of deafness, the origin of which involves a tremendous amount of trauma. There was no advisor along the way who understood either what had happened or what I needed. I was routinely dismissed as a truant and a malcontent, even told by CCAC’s former librarian Barry Chad many years ago, “you’re lucky you’re deaf.”

My father Ryland Wesley Crary drove a schoolbus in his retirement, which illustrates the merriment for which he was long admired, back to his days in the World War Two Navy, and upbringing in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. On his deathbed, while professor Emeritus at Bethany College in West Virginia, he was asked to sign diplomas for the graduates that year. The reason I am addressing this letter to Administrative offices of West Virginia is that although I know the American political framework is designed to maintain civil arrangement of jurisdiction which are adhered to by the letter of the law, I wonder if you would, upon learning of extreme injustice in action adjacent to you in another region, involving such terrible crimes as murder and the rape of children on the order of Manson, be silent, having been convinced that the issue was either being neglected or mind-shatteringly practiced by insane authorities, or would you have the courtesy at least of making a call to police on behalf of a witness?

Possibly you would refuse. We live in a society looking after itself, where people bet their lives on estrangement from one another, refusing to concern themselves with the cares of others out of a sense of prudent insulation. You might protect your conscience with the re-assuring idea that the petition was written by someone who was deranged, or lacking credibility and that it would do them nor you any good to intervene even anonymously in a matter that was probably already in the hands of the proper authorities. You might ask the very good and legitimate question: why can’t the witness make a phone call for himself? This isn’t television. The police are trustworthy.

What you don’t know yet is that the University of Pittsburgh where my father was for a time Chair of Philosophy of Education designed a dragnet intended to enforce the doctrine that attempting to get help would only land me in deep trouble. In the agony of a situation of neuro-traumatic injury they invited me to the Law School and when I got there arrested me for trespassing. Not very fair, but even worse they used this travesty to inflict so much physical agony that I found myself for years screaming in convulsion and seizures from an impacted head wound on the streets of absolute destitution, much of this time in Iowa without hearing aids and without knowing sign language, having not yet met deaf Jeannie of Mercy and Goodwill Industries, who taught me sign language before being attacked and raped in terrible reprisals. She has Downs Syndrome and is legally a child, but she is also my best friend.

The University of Pittsburgh did this to protect William Wattenmaker of Neurobehavioral Research. William Wattenmaker is documented in records I managed to have preserved at Carnegie Mellon on microfilm to have administered a powerful nerve agent to me behind my father’s back as a grade school child. CMU is not innocent in this matter. CMU and PITT have a long legacy of rivalry. As a child an armed gang of segregationist sadists, including brutal pedophiles, kidnapped and tortured me into such unspeakable loss and humiliation, coupled with nerve damage from poison crime, that I lapsed into a coma-like trance, unable to understand or even remember what they had done for years.

In the 1980’s I reached out to Wesley Posvar and Amnesty International in London. Posvar was of the mind that I had picked a fight with Reagan by writing editorials in defense of my father against Reagan’s unprovoked attacks on liberalism. This was not against the rules and safely with Constitutional protections. Nevertheless a belief enveloped me that Reagan was also a victim of some sort of mystery attack, yet in his mindless hatred for liberals, he committed the very serious offense of refusing to acknowledge my victimization despite profound injuries. The outgrowth of this misconstruction was that PITT was allowed to hire an attack prostitute named Rosa, who they gave a job, in a vicious attempt to detonate an impacted head wound they knew about and knew that I didn’t know was there, which is now visible in my facial nerve.

It doesn’t do much good to tell the truth. Amnesty International and PITT neither deny, nor could get away with denying, that Rosa was covering up for an AIDS war game conducted in the 80’s on Mt. Desert Island. I had worked in Pitt’s Medical Library and detected an AIDS testing operation pre-dating appearance of the virus. PITT and CMU admit that this war game took place. They deny its premeditation. It was illegal. They admit that. The police refuse to investigate. They say that it was vicious campus hazing that I brought on myself by being heartbroken about a girl I met at the Governor’s School named Leslie Katz, the Valedictorian of Ellis Girls School. Western Pennsylvania School for the Deaf said that they have seen situations of heartbreak before and that such an AIDS experiment was unheard of. Jeannie, who graduated from there, was raped by the CMU gang who got in on it for Peter Gabriel of Amnesty International. Will Zell, the organizer of the creepy and deranged war game had spoken to me about, “a scheme to transform the human race by injecting the blood” when I knew him in arts school before AIDS happened. This is the relevance of the postcard I secured from him by operating undercover which surrounds my name with positive and negative and speaks of injecting people.

Secretly, Robert Fripp of King Crimson operates a cult in West Virginia to which he lured me. There I met a partner of Zell named Hoderewski. Both Zell and Hoderewski knew I had been tortured as a child. Zell was confederate with Wattenmaker as an upper-class student with Michael McGarvey whose gang The Guttersnipes documented how I was molested as a very little boy in hostage and trauma. Fripp was covering for Zell and helping him justify what he did in the name of Leslie Katz. In a berserker act of viciousness towards my father’s animated position as Chair of Philosophy of Education, Pitt’s morbid segregationists, working a eugenic operation that included Black advancement among the martial code minded, had sent me a script signed Gail Burstyn of Bryn Mawr which is known to have been a plot about the murder of John Lennon which explains the murder of Martin Luther King in a context that justified the AIDS war game.

In homelessness, and protesting by letters like this one, my life shattered, my best friend horrifically raped, the Veterans Administration, acting through Harborview Medical Center, poisoned my heart, my stomach and left me chemically castrated as a punishment for trying to get police investigation. Why does this school want such a loss to their community? Why do they demand human sacrifice as a symbolic act of penitence from an innocent person? I am going to add for the safety of my conscience that I am sure this strategy of sacrificialism by Fripp’s cult was the organizing principle behind the slasher murder of Shannon Harps outside the Clubhouse where abused deaf person advocates had tried to place me for safety in Seattle.

This case speaks of Abolition of Laws. It is a crime violating the 13th Amendment of the United States Constitution forbidding slavery. It cannot be allowed because it is illegal. It is being pursued by insane individuals in government invoking a doctrine of maximum perfidy on their own behalf. It is driven by malicious gloating towards the piecemeal assassination of an honest gentleman.

When my father heard about the situation with Leslie Katz, he said, “that must have hurt.” Almost everyone did. Yet when Michael McGough of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, an administration who put my father on public trial as a pinko and a Red witch after he died, heard about my letter to Leslie Katz, he sneered that I was “convicted in a court of public opinion.” While Fripp agreed, they failed to make their case. I never bother Leslie Katz and I never harmed her. Nor did I threaten her or harass her. The best they could muster was that I had “a hassling attitude.”

In the process of trying to scapegoat me for something being kept secret about which I knew nothing, these murderers did more than depradate on an impacted terrible head wound. They hired a muck-raking attorney named Amanda Harcourt who use pimpery from government offices to secure my faith and trust in her through home invasion contracted against the hope for marriage. Powerful men like Peter Gabriel through her devices sent me dishonorable letters saying things like, “I love you, man,” when setting upon me in a despicable identity crime. She contracted the felons who kidnapped and tortured me and promised them Hollywood options. She invented crimes with the help of Ming Na Wen, McGough, John Shulman and Thomas O’Connor, all of them involved in an incident at Kelly Elementary where a stunt driver nearly killed students by passing loading schoolbuses. Shulman is not only a friend and advocate for Leslie Katz, he is a neighbor of an Indian gang who provided Pitt Faculty their own excuse when an English teacher seduced me in order to gain malicious Black approval for Mt. Desert Island’s AIDS testing action, which PITT claimed was emergency services, when, in reality, it was long premeditated.

Not content with compound hate crimes, these murderers have attempted to romanticize the life-shattering ordeal of decades, in which I was homeless and suffering the loss of my entire life to deafness and injury, while claiming they were insinuating what Fripp calls a sacred education into hypnotic reverie through head injury, snickering that my father Ryland must have been some sort of imbecile. This terrible criminal deems himself infallible in all matters, and apparently enjoys the enthusiasm of Pennsylvania law enforcement. The complaint he advances in the matter of Lennon appears to be that he should have impunity, not that injustice has taken place. Justice is just a market sale to him. Due to the proven fact that the situation was designed by PITT to build a paradigm of punishment for seeking help, I am asking that outside concern be expressed from West Virginia.

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