(initials for Library of Congress, the subject.)
October 21, 2017, opening this file because it looks like it’s being made into an enormous Armgeddon/Armageddon-making deal that I plan to at least check on some books there soon/before leaving this place. Yesterday this Armageddon “Program” the invisible-warfare has really been being done by drove me away from that usual “Shaw” library branch that I was headed for, sirens shrieking all over the place as I got to about 2 blocks from there and I just couldn’t keep walking into it and am blockaded in so many different directions anymore so that all I could figure to do to avoid trouble was to try to get over the the library branch nearest that that I call the “inferno-shelter,” the nightshelter I’ve been stranded at since I got back to this town after the car-hit ordeal, so that you could consider that “SE” branch library to then be “the inferno-library,” but the Armageddon Plan as in the Revelation book is old and this inferno business isn’t the way it had been pictured and things didn’t work out for them in space and now the system is just “faking it” and nevertheless “putsching” their same Armageddon Plan through only doing it off of tiny nobody me, so I try to stay out of trouble and I made it to the SE branch and went straight to the book I was supposed to go there for 3 days ago and the information-bit I was looking for wasn’t in the book, causing me to re-assess and figure I’d then do the next step and try to go look the subject up in the old newspapers room at the LOC, but there has been horrorgeddon, Horrorgeddon, all morning, starting in the middle of the night when they had a girl, invisible “they,” had some “regular character” to this start shouting about to quit/stop killing the animals, stop taking the fur and skin off of the animals and put it back, and that went on for about fifteen minutes as though it was a nightmare she was having, mentioning something called the Metro lines that she was at where they were doing that at, and that by itself wasn’t enough for me to change my plan to go ahead and just go look up this little bit from a 1962 paper but then the regular “circus-crew” of tricks all went on and I decided it was too much to try to do on a Saturday, to wait till I got, (real-God assist,) the first of the “ss-fund” I’m afraid to call it by its larger name, that my age-62 social security first envelope is supposed to be available about now, — I decided I’d better not go to the LOC after all this year away on a Saturday, that that would be like a “sneak-attack” because of this longtime “invisible Program” all over behind my back and under my feet and no doubt from all those satellites, so I’ll wait till I get a little “fund” and take a bus to the place on a weekday when it isn’t like I’m sort of slipping into there through a side door like usual, etc. However, then what all else has transpired, like to right this minute, has made it obvious to me that this “Armageddon/Armageddon-making Program” has plans to upscale the whole invisible/nonexistant parasitism this global-system has long been doing off of me! like my “ss fund” is its and their/s ss fund, the hundreds and thousands and millions and what of the underworld criminally-insane boys and their self-reproduced copies of themselves, criminals and criminally-insane and just insane and/or bums of all of themselves. One of them “not doing anything” just made a circle around me and this terminal I’m sitting at, one with that “Thunderville-type” face, where I know the Thundervilles do that circling because they’re criminally-insane murderers, I know that that’s what the circling is about and I can’t do anything about it because it would look insane for me to stand up and move out of the guy’s path while there are a bunch, 3 or more, of co-operatives here with it around me at this place I wound up having to try to pass this day as harmlessly as possible, and it’s like the system in the meantime is counting my incoming “ss fund” and upscaling this horror they do to me, off of the age-62 I’ve finally survived to ss program. That’s where the world is going to go with this system, they’re really going to parasite until there isn’t any planet Earth left. For me to relate how I wound up at the “SW” library branch will take some while, a micro-ridiculous typical horror about nothing but it’s representative of this whole criminally-insane system and its doing this real end of the Earth off of merely harassing (little) me all my life, that the whole system has nothing going for it… I can’t keep going on like this, they waste all my life complaining about themselves and that’s like a microcosm for that they’re doing that same thing to the whole of Creation, all evolved biology and the universe that’s been built for us to have moved out into someday, these bums are just sitting and preventing any natural life, etc., etc. There are 2 subjects to get this part off of my chest and then maybe I’d be able to start a normal day, but part 1 was part of a normal day of trying to get this Armageddon and its French Connection parasitism onto me off of me, then the second subject is this micro-incident that I’ll sound stupid for bothering to type about but think it’s endemic or emblematic or representative of the entire book of Revelation/Bible/global-system/U.N., LOC, the whole system, that it’s all a bunch of “lies and doo-doo,” me always disliking to have to type that vulgar phrase but that’s all that the system really is made up of. Then I’m reminded that the system is also killing-off all writing and intelligence, that they just want to have an “orgy-porgey” planet of getting high off of brains and being entertained, that I seem to be being used for getting rid of libraries and freedom of speech altogether, is another thing I’m alone with: 1- Yesterday I finally got to the library to look at the book on Allen Ginsberg called “Mania,” by Collins and Skover a few years ago, to see what it says about the girl that killed herself 2 days after the French Connection bust because I figure that that timing wasn’t a coincidence, that there’s some sort of a connection between the 2 seemingly-unrelated events, and there wasn’t any mention of her, a former girlfriend of Ginsberg’s, in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan and that’s just west of the Bronx so I suspect that there is a link between Ginsberg and the French Connection and then the Armageddon seems to a large extent to be done by “Ginsberg’s type.” I’ll have to pause and get a picture of what it seems to me that the Armageddon Program is directed by, the usual Man In Oriental Costume painting I use to illustrate that, and then extrapolate to that over the centuries they’ve had descendants that one of which then turned out to be Allen Ginsberg and then Ira Levin and E.L. Doctorow had also lived in the Bronx, that that type has been a big part of the system and I’ve been calling them the “generational-slaves #2 type,” and then #1 and #3 would be in the “Types” heading under the other types of the da Vinci and the Babar boys types. The book “Mania” about Ginsberg and his youth and the other “Beats” has an index and the former girlfriend’s name isn’t in it, Elise Cowen. I looked up the pages listed under Ginsberg, attempts to go straight or some such and saw nothing indicating that Ms. Cowen’s relationship with Ginsberg was going to be mentioned but that was the book I thought I’d first seen mention of her in so I was anxious to see what Collins and Skover had had to say since they seem to be big experts, are First Amendment law specialists and had written the book on Lenny Bruce’s obscenity trials and Bruce and Ginsberg seem to me to be like ham and cheese on the French Connection bread, so I was appalled that these fancy lawyers know all that about circa-1962 Bruce and Ginsberg but didn’t mention the suicide. I suspect that the (alleged by the way,) suicide might have been connected to the Space Race part of all this Armageddon via the narcotics-money off of the French Connection cover-up for the brain-serum industry that supports this global system that’s actually taking us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION, based solely on that I’d read that the girl had jumped through a locked window, as I’m looking at the 2 “crimes” or incidents’ being some miles away but likely inter-connected and with nearly nothing to go on except reading that this had happened and there are a few pictures of Ms. Cowen on the Internet here or there and I’d read that she’d jumped or leapt or somehow broken through a locked window, and all I can figure with so little to go on but a real strong suspicion that Ginsberg might have had some involvement in that whole “French Connection” LSD/brain-serum horror-scam that I’d gotten symbolically/ritually stuck into the bottom of, etc., it seems that her doing that might be like the jewelry-store robberies of Tiffany’s and Cartier’s glass-smashing modus operandi, which at least one of the French Connection group, Patsy/Pasquale Fuca, had been personally involved in, smashing Cartuer’s window to take a bunch of diamonds, that that seems this “ritual” hallucino-thinking for smashing through the “glass ceiling” of the sky that had been the ozone seal, still is, so I’m suspecting that there might have been a big scam onto Ms. Cowen, and the book didn’t mention her at all so I thought I’d go look to see what as in the New York Times about that incident, probably in the February 28, 1962 paper, 3 days after the Bronx French Connection bust, and the timing is too coincidental so it’s important but then that girl last night was screaming about the animals being skinned and stop skinning the animals and put the fur back on them and the “Armageddon Program” has been getting worse and worse and then now I realize that these bums are actually upscaling their “Program” based on that after a long time virtually penniless I’m supposed to soon be getting some normal-like of an income, so these bums have this “Program” ready to go on at any of these branches that I might try to go to escape from this by. Kitty-across the street from this one they’ve got signs they’re having a Racial Awareness Festival and there were 2 of the “Thunderville-types” of the fraud-parent’s type of real genetic “family” or race or whatever conspicuously there and that’s branched off of that yesterday there’d been some scene where I mentioned that “Neanderthals” are neither black or white but that the “race” subject is just a joke/hoax on the normal people, the non-underworld types of people are led astray by the Neanderthals who aren’t either white or black but pretend that they’re different colors, as this fraud-family from the Bathgate/Bronx business was mostly that type of guy, 3 or 4 of them were of that type, which I haven’t even been able to get to anything about that all “lies and doo-doo” subject of the so-called Trojan “war,” that that was a mass-invasion sized migration of the Autists from Paleo-American, and these “Neanderthals” I’m guessing were like the Agamemnon and Menelaus brothers in that Homer’s account. So I’m here with the first amendment expert lawyers’ not mentioning or allegedly knowing any importance about Ms. Cowen’s alleged suicide and around me it’s so bad I decided to go to the regular, the “Shaw” branch of the library that I’ve been stranded at since the main library here closed down in March, I’ve usually been going there, on 7th St. and Rhode Island Avenue, NW, here but the Program was like up-scaled and I didn’t feel safe with this end of the real planet all over me to keep going ahead and walking into there yesterday but today I figured it would be safer than going to the inferno-branch 2 weekend days in a row, Friday and then Saturday all day also didn’t seem “Armageddon Program LURE of innocents” good thing to do under these circumstances and I got on the shuttle bus that goes from the nigh shelter to 3 drop-off points downtown and I was going to go to the usual, the 3rd, drop-off point when the micro-incident happened and caused me to get off at the 1st drop-off point, it was too “insane,” micro-insane for me to be alone with all this, I thought I’d take the longer walk down to the other side of the Mall here, let things around me slide and cool off, but then the c*** is so bad no matter what I do that I realized that the bums that do this invisible-torture warfare to and off of me think they’re coming into money for making a bigger, better Program for their insane-bums selves, criminally-insane-bums’ own good world-takeover time. These bums are so (invisibly) all over me that it’s unlivable; they’re doing something to how I was trying to make the numbers for the 1st and 2nd points that I’m trying to “get off of my chest,” so I could clear my mind. I’d made a paragraph for the first point but then when I hit return to make the 2nd point it was already typed, I tried it twice and they’ve got this like “bullet-numbered” somehow, so I went back and took that paragraph out.
Now I’ll type the #2 instead of this invisible-warfare’s pre-doing the next thing for me to type. Creation cannot work with these parasites, Creation can’t do anything while the parasites are being sadists all over the place, to all created life.
2- It seems like the Allen Ginsberg-type of the parasite, by the way, but it’s not here and it’s invisible so I’ve only got my own guesses to go on and generally just try to get myself functioning through all this c***. I don’t think I can recall enough of all the little “supporting details” to this boring micro-incident because I’ve been forced to just sit here and do this complaint-writing because the c*** is on and clogging my mind till I can clear it out and both of these subjects relate to the whole Armageddon, to the Armageddon as a whole so I feel I have to mention first that first amendment oversight problem/difficulty and then that I got on the shuttle van but noticed that the driver’s side wasn’t marked when it drove up and then when I got off of it, on Massachusetts at New Jersey Avenue, I noticed that neither was the passenger’s side marked, that they’d used an unmarked plain white van for the first time, the type I think is nicknamed a “Hoover van,” without the red letters saying Homeless Shelter Shuttle van or some such, UPO company van. I got onto it at the night shelter like usual and when it pulled off there was one extra space that no one had sat in so I thought the girl next to me would slide over into it and when she didn’t I indicated that it was open and she could slide/move over and she just ignored me and kept putting what looked like vaseline onto her lips. Then there was some “new” peculiar-act girl who glanced back to see what was being talked about and I said that I’ve known the girl for a year and a half and she’s just ignoring me and won’t slide over, which would have given me a little breathing space, which, then the extra details, that that happens to be a backseat so far back that it is something of a dangerous seat to be in, the furthest seat in a corner and on a bad day and with the invisible-warfare a person might get into an unable to breathe-to-a heart attack type situation from being in that particular furthest from the door seat, so that it’s a seat that I generally go back to if I’m feeling okay because then someone else doesn’t get stuck back there but now the van had taken off and the girl could give me a little room as well as her own self a little more room from sitting right next to me, could have some space around the both of us with only 2 of us on a seat made for 3 or 4 people, but this girl wouldn’t respond to me and kept smearing vaseline on her lips and finished with that and just ignored me till I saw there wasn’t any sense me getting my health upset that she wouldn’t give me a little space but as the drive proceeded then I started feeling like she was somehow symbolic/ritually blocking my way so that I only have this narrow “no-choice” which way I can turn or which library branch or other place I could go to, just this narrow space I only had a choice of fitting into or nothing, in that the girl always wears these headscarves like a Sikh, a year and a half I’ve known her and she doesn’t talk to me but I figure she’s minding her own business or what and now when there are a few words to be exchanged she refuses to acknowledge me at all while at the same time sitting square next to so that I can’t loosen up to move any. That’s all, micro-incident and yet everything’s like a ritual around me and to this system and I was all blocked in so I figured the option of getting off at the first stop and walking down to here because there was an errand I had in that, this, direction, to walk by that John L. Young 2nd and D Streets, NW, homeless shelter I’d been (stranded like this) in for ten years because there’s a sign I’d neglected to take a photo of last time I’d gone by there and the other photos aren’t a complete set without the one other so when I’d changed my plan to go to the Shaw but then this girl, similar to the Man In Ori4ental Costume -type in headgear and/or affect at least was so so peculiarly behaving toward poor little me I had to again change my plans and wound up here, and I’m just being closed-in by this Armageddon “business” entirely. The whole world is going to die and I can’t get out of this at-the-bottom-of-it position in all these years of begging and these “directors” are being more bummy than ever. I’ve been giving them benefit of the doubt all along but I can’t figure why “someone” must have been telling that girl to ignore me and leave me unnecessarily squeezed into the back corner except that it was some ritual significance to doing like that but also it seemed to have been extemporized, which is always hard to pin down, which sabotages are planned, what is and isn’t real life, and what is coincidence. This today seemed coincidence, that it wasn’t too “magic-figured” that she and I would be in the back seat alone together and I’d casually indicated that she could move over. Then when I got out uncharacteristically because I sat back there planning to get out the last stop but then would have to crawl over whoever was there if you get out the first stop, when she saw me indicate I was getting off she moved so far that her feet were up on the seat she could have been sitting on but then they were blocking my way as you still have to wait for the people in the front seats to finish piling off so that then I had to indicate for her to take her feet off also.
I’m going to require some form of assistance if I’m going to be able to check on anything at that LOC is why I’m opening this file/file-set. Then it also goes into how the LOC was founded by the New England Transcendentalists in the first place, Emerson, Hawthorne, maybe Longfellow too, Bronson Alcott the nutcase “high-functioning Autist” -type as far as I can tell. One of the early workers there was named Mr. Spofford, he seems to have been of that type, in setting up the LOC. I’ve long figured that the LOC was set up for making a LURE for themselves which “owning” and getting rid of any written materials that the underworld-system people wanted to, like anything from the “normal” people, the non-Autists.
I’m anxious for what is more or less a next step in the process or whatever I’m doing and right now I figure that trying to figure the connection from the French Connection to Allen Ginsberg through this former girlfriend’s doing that is the “main priority” to this “research” that I try to do in explaining that the system is run by people taking the planet to gratuitous (and sadistic) extinction, that it goes completely opposite or contrary to natural process and that’s how it’ll wind up and I’m etc., at the bottom inadvertantly. Really I even think that just the better at-the-bottom host-victims didn’t survive so I’m the one the bums are living off of toward their sneak “a thief as in the night (Rev. citation here, Rev. 16.something maybe,) ” Armageddon world-takeover. I’ll likely think of more details to this micro-incident but it’s like emblematic of the whole thing, that it “doesn’t make any sense,” which by the way I notice now are the words the system had had me saying over those suitcases before they were taken for storing the “heroin” into, and then found on Feb. 25, 1962 and now I hear that that girl had jumped from a window two days later coincidentally and I doubt that it was a coincidence, am suspecting that maybe Ginsberg was under the Bronx and maybe they were all extremely high because that “bust” was actually a ritual, that the police were led into it for the long-term ritual purpose of what we’re living through and headed for, and so one of the things I’d like to do today is to try to find a timeline on what Ginsberg was doing then and that Ms. Cowen had typed his well-heard of poem called “Kaddish” for him, see if I can learn anything from trying to look up about that, and other things, that all my files are just like thrown-into these files, the materials are and require to be straightened out and added to and smoothed out everywhere, plus I seldom get to this library branch and they do have some good books it would be nice to be able to get a look at, and then tonight or soon I’ll try to send those photos I just took on the way here and one of these days soon I’ll try to describe the situation, that it’s a quote from that goes to a new mural on the person named Mitch Snyder, who appears descended from the Ghent Altarpiece types of the guys like in that picture of the Man In Oriental Costume just above here now that this whole Armageddon-business seems directed by and my “thesis” in all this is that they were mis-led by the innocent-appearing Autist Paleo-American invaders into the Old World and that that still isn’t getting anywhere, my trying to explain that everything is just a simple error, as evidenced by this peculiar bit with the girl stone-facedly blocking my way from being able to have a little breathing space for myself in the van this morning, that I give benefit of the doubt but get nothing back in return and then — these “bums” seem to think that it’s okay to scam that the world won’t die if their kinds decide to vote in favor or not-torturing Kathy Foshay, that there isn’t any “mentality” even to this present system, they’re just going to sit and be criminals and stay high and rape women, just enjoy themselves and no give-back to the planet or anything, give their you-know-what back, (their doo-doo, really, is all.)
October 17, 1961 the poem Kaddish was published. That’s to his late mother. Also this is all for the “You, Were Wrong, Merchant of Venice” et al file I’m trying to explain that this is all just in err, they somehow, mis-led or their own idea, got all off into this belief that they could just create their own world-population and victims for their getting high off of brain-eating and it all goes contrary to the direction of the way the planet is, like the “Autists” couldn’t catch the sun and it is difficult to explain that all to a child, maybe Ginsberg’s/the Man In Oriental Costume -type even was/is “the Autists” and the ones that I’ve figured are the Autists are subset-hybrids that they’ve been disseminating from their disembodied-ovaries method of self-reproduction, but Ms. Cowen is known for having typed that poem for Ginsberg and that had happened while that French Connection plan was in process it looks like. And I’ll try to find out where he was before going to India in 1962 now.
They’ve been running this picture for at least a week since I’d noticed it so I’m putting it here as an example of some of all of this “invisible/unprovable warfare” against me. That little child is like a young version of the “Thunderville-performer” out at the night-shelter/inferno-shelter,” where I figure they’d thought they could make the inferno but I don’t think the logistics had worked out with the not-far-away munitions development area, near where that other branch library is and not far from this LOC. The big “joke” is that I haven’t been able to get there most of this year and I have this big list of things to try to quick-look up and read and the invisible-warfare not only prevents me from being able to get to the place but also makes a sneaky “sotto-voce” big deal that it’s like invisible-war if I do try to use the books. This is what I’ve been seeing when I call up their website to check things on the catalog and I guess that that’s the new director and the little girl is like an “Armageddon Program cartoon” version of me, as also I’d just seen a similar girl in a news program video that’s like an idea of reference to that I’d been out to the basilica yesterday. Ir’a even worse than that though in that that person and thousands and thousands or what of others may actually have been from ovae/ovaries taken from me, it’s one of the daily running-jokes that I’m “face-bombed” with these walk-by parade of character faces like that. Like I’d said in the “Wash. Melange” file early this year they’d had some little girl that looked like me back in the 1920s or ’30s here, that I can’t jump to any conclusions, can’t do anything about whatever the situation is, but I see these sado-sarcastic sights like this picture above here all of the time, shelter-girls like that and dozens of other variations on who might have been “created” from ovae stolen or “pilfered” or robbed or taken from me. They have you sign those release-forms that a hospital can do whatever for research purposes and normal people don’t realize that that means they’ll grow and sell people made from your reproductive matter, might have happened to me in early 1972; there just isn’t ever anyone who’s any useful to speak with around me for me to be able to find out about anything, I can only just go through each day with my own survival things on my mind and this — etc., but I’d wanted to get a copy of this photo as an example of the all day long every day sort of Armageddon Program that goes on around me but all behind my back, that the little girl looks like “a product” the system might have or likely has made out of ovae “pilfered” from me in this lifetime hounding they’ve been doing, it’s been doing, the Bathgate/Watergate market “curse” and then this I’m trying to explain lately about Briseis and now I’ve got this whole ridiculous Moby Dick/Herman Melville was one of these Jomon-race mass-reproduced workers also, etc.