Those who released the AIDS Onslaught were genocide theorists. They wrote the text as a letter to the United States, leaving the loud shroud of deafness around a devastated golem, suspicious and traumatized for all the world to see, yet no one investigated, no one expressed remorse, and when the child began publicly crying, the government embarked on a sickening and pitiless horror of bodily poisons and humiliating mutilation crimes, led by a wolf pack of seething, criminal rockers. It was clear from the beginning that by the time the United States and world’s people admitted that AIDS had been man-made they would no longer care. All the Reagan machine needed was a sucker plan, a group of inside job artists to lead the mob, and for all concerned to twiddle their thumbs and stall. In the end, a few scholars might come upon the courage to note what had happened, by then the perpetrators would have their laugh and be busy with the business of the future.
Of course, the small victory of having the truth on record might not be acceptable. New special laws, endorsed by The Fifth Estate limiting tattle tales as franchise imposing on Sir Paul McCartney might have to be passed and business deterred by special slasher homicide examplings illustrating the triumph of The New Black Man. Scholars or reporters daring to spread the news might have to be subject to neuroplastic conditioning, attack prostitute therapy, sexual neutering, with vomit-bag pornography uploaded into their face by attending authorities insulted by their efforts to keep clean. “Here’s spit in your food,” the triumphant Romans shout at the homeless dens, raping deaf Jeannie to prove they would never do such a thing.
Satanists of the sort who would tell should be sent to prison for exercising Freedom of Speech, no question about it, it’s a dangerous to National Security, the threat of a nuisance reporting torture in an act of self-defense.