Dear library,

I’m going to try sending this to you today but I’m all “helter-skelter” and can’t organize the so-much right now, but I have to find some place else to take this LURE the system’s been nearly-lifetime off of me. Maybe the “intelligence” moved into a set up there; I’m going to see what I can learn about Sierra Vista under its previous name, where the founding of Tombstone is already linked to this LURE that’s wound up being off of me. I’m starting to suspect that it’s also connected to that old “MK-Ultra” business but I can’t look into the subject of Frank Olson without some sort of a responsibly-behaving person around me because the “fraud-family” that he’d had is dangerous to me, the stereotype that has the website is, what I call the “Shahan-Pill-grim boy” -type. They were all around me in 2015 and a big incident in 1978 and coincidentally have a Universe-titled website also. Similar is some new resident of Sierra Vista for all this lifetime-sabotage of me, and the system keeps all normal or useful contacts away from me except for their own LURED-sabotage. Could someone please read to learn to monitor these disorganized-seeming things I’m trying to explain, that the global-system comes from a brain-eating cult of developmentally disabled primitive and ill peoples that has permeated everything. They’ve done so to a large degree just off of that normal-seeming National Geographic magazine, for instance of what plain English-speaking could get the Earth out of necessitated extinction due to the parasitism of the brain-eating “seers” and however all they like to stay high and think of themselves as being. I’ll be trying to improve this communication-attempt but I can only do so much and likely have more resistance against me than anyone that’s ever lived, etc.

— I sent off the email, then went looking for this ebook by National Geographic. I’ve never done an ebook before, am like a ghost-prisoner without much resource to the larger world, and it hasn’t worked but I found my way to their magazine file and here’s this old cover story that’s all or mostly-all sneak-idea of reference to myself and situation while I’d been stranded not far from their building in Washington — but I can’t have links to things because of all the controversiality around that the subject is the “brain-eating” that the system does, how they got their “visionary” ability-set, but it goes away when the supply of other people’s brains runs out, etc., for that they were baseless “doo-doo heads” that nature can’t evolve around, can’t work, like just holding its breath all these centuries and nothing has improved. The guy who’d mainly founded the National Geographic is Gardiner Hubbard, then his son-in-law Bell, etc. I’m thinking they might be a partner-duo down from Raphael and Michelangelo, and I have to check Liverpool in that all 4 of those Beatles might have been “made from” Hubbard’s excreta. I have to put the words “dot” and “slash” when I take out those punctuation marks to dismantle the links I get just for learning purposes, [“research” and all the other words used in their normal senses here]:

“National Geographic.” National Geographic Magazine, Oct. 2008. National Geographic Virtual Libraryhttp ://tinyurl dot galegroup dot com slash tinyurl/BViLg0 dot  Accessed 10 Aug. 2019.

All their stuff is heavily copyrighted. I’ve been trying to write to them about one photo of Mr. and Mrs. Bell I’d had to “lift” despite their copyright on it, which I’m sure it’s only fair use for the one photo for a big reason, but — the System lives on me, like rides around ruling from off of parasiting on anything I try to do so my innocent real-life requirement for that particular pose they were in — I can’t “helter-skelter” describe this insanity that the system that lives off of me perpetrates, they’d had me awake most of last night and everything is difficulter than usual, but this article — I wish I could put the front cover or rather the back pages photo here to try to show their interpretation of my decade in Washington, what it’s like to be poor little me at the bottom of all this invisible-torture of being the system’s big LURE-gimmick, for that Armageddon-Revelation Plan, that there are many millions of copies of all around the world, printed and distributed Revelation threats and warnings all over the place, — this is how they’d wound up getting to this point at least, etc. I should be able to post at least one example photo from the article here. I’d read that the American Association for the Advancement of Science or the Sciences had purchased the copyright on some of the article’s photos and I managed to get off a letter to them inquiring about that but there wasn’t a response.

The system is pretty much like a or the “devil” always sitting and monitoring my brain and life all my life, back to when I was around 4 the odd things started happening. It prevents people from being in contact with me and  I’m just muddling through and ignorant of everything but it’s been so many years, decades, of the same patterns that I’ve finally been picking up a little on these things and writing to whoever I can about them but then the system sees who I write to and strengthens itself in however it can from parasiting on that contact I’d tried to make.

“It Takes Two.” National Geographic Magazine, Oct. 2008, p. 142. National Geographic Virtual Library Accessed 10 Aug. 2019.
Gale Document Number: GALE|YCXONH385711062

That’s probably the overall best picture of what this invisible-torture is like. I don’t know

what those painted “rings” all over the mannequin represent, binds I’d guess.

It says, “Their bodies’ relentless demand for calories probably forced Neanderthal women and children to join in the hunt.” They call me fat, their “Armageddon Show/Program” script persists in their old Plan despite lack of connection to reality. They’re all different than normal people are and their “little buddies” had extincted the dinosaurs by egg-smashing because they’re nuts. They’re nuts because they’d forced their way east over Beringia way way long ago, extincted the dinosaurs, and when they invaded back over to the Old World then they met these partners that became these brain-eating “wizards” whose living off of me causes me to always be writing for help, which they use as a gimmick for sneak-invading everyone’s business, “disappearing” the normal people off of who I try to get in contact with these last few decades especially.

National Geographic has an article on a bird that to me looks like a hummingbird on the next pages after the Neanderthal new mannequin article. — Stephen S. Hall wrote that Neanderthal article and I’d tried “researching” him and now am lucky I’d double-checked the issue for other ideas of reference.

Allen Ginsberg, 1925-1997; (click-on straightened out soon.) Also, Chaim Potok 1929-2002, Ira Levin 1929-2007, E.L. Doctorow 1931-2017…)

Mr. Hall looks like a small version of this “Ginsberg-type” or stereotype that seems to do most of this lifetime of invisible torture and “tricks” to and off of me. This is about the only PD photo I’ve been able to find of any of them but they go back to that Vatican fresco of the “Dispute of St. Catherine” of Alexandria and to the “Man In Oriental Costume” general illustration I use of the “Armageddon-director type:”


David Liittswager did most of the photographs, but it looks like McNally did the main one I’m interested in, and then he did, I think, the side-by-side comparison set that the AAAS had bought the copyright too and hasn’t replied to my question about how I could locate the Permission-place for putting a copy of that on this blog, me trying to show this set up, that the system has all these sneak-resources and I’m just like that naked lady in the “Don Quixote” battling invisible windmills “position.”

Last of the Neanderthals: Liittschwager, David, Alfons Kennis, Joe McNally, Adrie Kennis, and Stephen S. Hall; National Geographic MagazineOctober 2008, Vol. 4, Issue 214.

 [Zackowitz, Margaret G. “Driving Faith.” National Geographic Magazine, Oct. 2008, p. [150]. National Geographic Virtual Library Accessed 10 Aug. 2019.
Gale Document Number: GALE|YCYHRE900462060 — [Just to keep this in mind it’s here.]]

11 August, Sunday, the monsters are killing me for their LURE. Then, in looking around by search-engine for links between the National Geographic founder Gardiner Greene Hubbard and the town of Liverpool, England’s “fab four” Beatles, that they were basically “offspring-descendant’s” of Hubbards, I haven’t found anything specific yet, a link to property in Guyana of the Jonestown Massacre site, but also I’ve got this personal difficulty with receipt of something from my fraud-sibling and it occurs to me that she might could have been one of many, many “offspring-descendants” of Hubbard’s wife, Mrs. Hubbard. I’ll go try to find that photo of her now:

original fileMr. and Mrs. Gardiner Green Hubbard: Gardiner Greene Hubbard 1822 Boston -1897 WDC— She maybe looks more like me than my fraud-sibling, I don’t recognize what I thought I’d find, a small, sweet face, like Paul McCartney’s, and Mrs. Rod Serling’s, and Dianne Feinstein.

They’re playing games with this terminal to freak me out and worse, as though they’ve been doing a gambling wager on whether my quiet little personal suspectation about what a close-up of Mrs. Hubbard’s face might look like was some Armageddon gambling-point between “races” of people, all the time “the Jew” is doing that off of me, all these decades and nearly none of it am I aware of. In fact the name “Nason” is like one of their names, anything like off of Nasi or National, to do with natal-birthing maybe they claim, and when I’d looked up the photo of CW2 Nason  my first impression was that it brought Curly Howard to my mind, and all that Stooges-family was from Brooklyn, where most of this Armageddon Plan off of me at least seems based. And I’m saying that from there and all the systems other bases, they lead back to Siber-Mongolia longtime hiding place.

As far as trying to see if Hubbard had actually had a bunch of “seedlings” planted in and around Liverpool goes, I think that the famous TH Huxley had come from Birmingham, England, not far from Liverpool, but I don’t have time to check that today, I’ve got too many horrible personal difficulties right now. I will try to find that portrait of Raphael and his Fencing Partner though: Raffaello autoritratto con un amico.jpgRaphael – 1483 Urbino – 1520 Rome

Michelangelo = 1475-1564 allegedly and to me these 2 in the Louvre portrait look like Raphael and Michelangelo, who I call me-kill-angels, as what he’d been doing. I’m thinking though that, generational-partnership, they look like Hubbard and Bell. Then they have some grave-monument in Washington called the Hubbard-Bell-Grossman-Pillot, memorial I think it is. Me working at a Grossman store is where this Armageddon-torture took off from. and they’re from Braintree just outside of Boston where Hubbard and Bell had gotten together, and I don’t know what the Pillot people are but just the letters, Pillot reminds me of Pill-out, that they’d come over to this continent with this modus-credo of giving pills to get people to quit being so grim, the Pill-grim scam I’ve been trying to get across that alot of this is, that developmentally disabled invaders from extincting the dinosaurs in the New World waged the so-called Trojan “war” invasion and then thought the way of the world should be that everyone must get high like they like to do and that would solve the difficulties, eat, drink and be merry, have sex and listen to music and all would understand and be happy and not be fighting their developmentally disabled cliff-pushing and pyromaniacal selves anymore, then gathered into this Hubbard-Bell-Grossman and whoever all the Pillot family might have been and might be, but the sneaky sit-underground Armageddon Plan comes from those dinosaur extincters and only keeps growing. They’ve done the It’s a Small World After All to the planet instead of letting it grow out to reach out to space in order to encompass it then, to grow into space, they’ve tried to such it down to their underground growing-humans in secret, spreading group, united by the belief that brain-eating is better and smarter and Limitless!

I don’t know about the telegraph business but they certainly did the telephone and built it out into this computer-monopoly over life. I have to sign out because they’re LURE-crazy today off of me on account of its being their weekend schedule off of me and that it’s summer season-on-tourists to nab before their school-calendar world starts up again. They must all be sitting and sucking under all those universities. Then I’m a veteran they’re trying to keep in hospitals so those students can all suck the taxpayer-money through me to themselves. I have to sign off now, that message just lit up.

12 August, and then also a librarian/clerk had “crossed,” whisked right in front of me as I was walking in. I went into the new crazed-person old routine almost to the THIS is how they do the book of Revelation, part of this horror-terror, — adding this to the description I’d jotted in the Warning/s first post just now. It’s just disgusting, every bit of what the devil’s doing to me, the “Mr. Film” type of har-har things I try to call the “Jomon” for fear of all this phony-controversiality scam this always runs on. When I got off the bus they’d had a “Chandra Levy” -lookalike, those photos of the girl that aren’t like models photos but where she’s with Condin, that that girl’s one that comes from this 1978 in San Francisco and the SFClown character business, and the girl that got off at the usual stop for here looked like that, — all the creepy sirens outside too, real loud now. Just before I cam into this usual “shuttle” branch I’ve been coming to for 10 months the sirens were to a fire truck number 26 and doing the “need” noise-phrase, one of the standard noises they made. I can’t stay here in this seat because this seems to be where plants from that Bronx fraud-family regulary sit and if I sat down not only would my doing so be misinterpreted but one of them then sits in that space right over there, so I’m waiting for a seat to open up/// when that regular library clerk cross-whisked in front of me as I was looking at the seatsing today after that collective suck-in noise they’d all done I’d gasped and she turned to look surprised as though I’d gasped for no reason and my babble started about that “I’m terrorized,” I’d said by way of explication, her whisking to cross in front of me, they do that at least 4 times a week usually or whoever’s available tries to scoot over, and I said that, I’m terrorized… I’ve been coming here for 10 months and I’m terrorized, trying to describe that that’s not unusual for me, I’ve been coming here as already being the world’s most-terrorized person for all this time and you haven’t noticed a thing, is what I was reduced-to-babble-trying-t0-get-across to this person I’ve seen at least 4 times a week for ten months — but everyone’s sucked-into this Armageddon devil-on-me “show” and-or is a plant sent around me for the “show” purpose way that these — mental retards, they, I figure, have a grudge against nature-creator for that they’d, like fools they must have felt, they’d been stranded on an island doing the same old things century after century like that that was the whole world till the “Autists” discovered them. They have a hang-up on making it seem as though I’m mentally retarded, have been threatening-like that at least since I was 9 years old and so now I’m figuring it seems like they’ve got that hang-up because they’d felt like fools for being primitives on Japan while everyone else had civilizations going, so in their grudge against nature they’ve just attacked to tear down anything anyone else might have made, is what I’m lately putting together. I’m going to try to type the list of odds and ends list I’m trying to get to today: — I changed to a seat up front, where I feel a little safer, as though the staff can’t pretend they don’t notice what’s going on is why I sit up near their desk, the other plants would work up the invisible sneak tortures to a crescendo and the staff would bat their eyes and feign having hardly any awareness of anything, so I sit near their area for that little safety-attempt but probably not all of them were actually library personnel here till I got here, might even be “volunteers” but I don’t know the difference, it’s just always all the same old modus operandi of “the jew’s.” One of the plant-like staff “whisked” by a little too closely and when she headed back this same way my nerves are too on edge and I put out my hand to like fend her off a little and she made believe I was saying hi to her and said hi back and I said no, you’re a little too close to me, and then I’m back in that same old position as all those years in Washington where then I start babbling as though I have to explain my behavior so then I’m telling these totally know-better uninterested people that THIS is how “they’re” doing the book of Revelation, that, no, they’ve already done it, this is the New Jerusalem, that we’re in now, Uhhuh. The Jew sending its garbage at me the same way they overload people at the December phony holiday, to try to create suicides from self-pity and the futility, etc.

date of Tuva book – 1991, about back 1978 maybe though

Strawberry Fields orphanage- George Hignett Warren, 1819-1912, shipping magnate, built c. 1870, Woolton section of Liverpool, managing director of the Warren line of steamships. In 1914 his daughter Mary Swire put it up for sale. beaconsfield road, woolton, 7 acres (bought by a merchant with South America, then to the Salvation Army with Evangeline Booth there,) == there more on this: http://beatles liverpool locations dot blogspot dot com/2019/01/ == for anytime I’ve got nothing else to do yet!

allerton oak dot com net slash merseySights/SouthLiverpoolWO dot html

the ships list dot com slash ships/lines/warren dot shtml

They sailed mostly Liverpool to Boston, but also made calls at Halifax and Philadelphia. Edith, Fred and Lotte Warren c. 1963 ship names.

en dot wikipedia dot org/wiki/Furness_Withy

== this guy George Hignett Warren and his wife, owners of Strawberry Fields, bought a house in Boston, owned them both. 294 Beacon Street: backbay houses dot org/294-beacon/ == reading it a little more closely maybe it was his son but they were all in the same houses and shipping business. I suppose little me would have to try to coordinate that with Gardiner Greene Hubbard’s addresses. — It’s 5 blocks from that First Church of John Winthrop’s and everybody’s. This has become pretty obvious already, that Liverpool and Boston had this Strawberry Fields Warren shipping industry family in common, same thing on both sides of the Atlantic. Should I put the “c-word” for conspiracy….

British Invasion, (faded out because of the moon landing’s non-results.)

Huxleys/Birmingham – They were all from London, then Aldous slightly sw of there.

from AG Bell’s notebook on the first successful transmission, him yelling for Watson.

ck Thomas A. Watson visited Liverpool









r to mexico and minnesota and nat. graph.

premeditation by this s&m creature

add tt College Station place, to go with this “DFW” theme:




David = Divide

Foster = similar to my name

Wallace could have to do with “walling” people as audiences against walls, just sitting and watching, that they always are LURE-gathering audience pigeons, it’s all they do, this crap all over me.

Seeing correlations more and more I’m starting to think that just the guy’s name had been used like a code-reference to this … way they’ve pulled off those book of Revelation Armageddon threats, and however more it goes it can only get worse because everything is baseless. Even this business that perhaps the theorized “Jomon” had felt like fools for sitting alone on an island as though that was the whole world, they were on that island because of the cataclysm/s caused by the Autists’ forcing their way to the New World way back in time that they never knew about but they’re sitting on all the dinosaur-extinction business, are preventing a way out of this horror they’ve built because they hadn’t any idea what they were doing except they were angry for being made island-bound fools of, has long been my thinking.  I have to put this Planet Trillaphon story back up on the Navigation bar too because it’s so important. Is full of the subconscious clues to all this that must be in child psychiatrist records all over this phony Autism business the “Jomon” have substituted for reality, etc., I’m only one tiny person and they’ve taken to molesting my privates as well as my brain all the time and I’ve become behaviorally conditioned to some of these terrorisms so badly, and it’s only all the same patterns as all those years in
Washington, it’s nothing for the system to pull these horrors onto tiny me, and it’s started to wear me down anymore, like a nonstop feeling of waiting for the next other shoe to drop that they always pull at this part of my day and then that part of my day and what’s going to be perpetrated/sneak-perpetrated next and am I ever going to be able to figure anyone who could simply lift a finger or lend me a hand to get out of this end-of-the-world-making “entertainment” LURE-scam. Also I have to add to this list of things to look up or work on something about that Joseph Conrad “Heart of Darkness” novella, that Conrad and the captain of the ship he’d come over here on in 1923 were said/written to have gone to stay at the Doubleday estate in Oyster Bay, Long Island, that I’d like to check on that captain but of course my note on that from just last week probably can’t be found, — though it might simply be in the little Conrad file I’d started, the captain’s actual name maybe.

— more terror; I turned on that social media from San Francisco and they have a strip dancer right in my face, and I’ve barely used the site because I’d gotten hit by the car right after I’d signed up, in trying to locate that scapegoated girl for the Abu Ghraib scandal, that that was a big part of the Armageddon off of this invisible-torture to me, Abu Ghraib coinciding with home health aide work I was trying to do in Brooklyn, (so it took me awhile to figure out how to change the screen.)

Since I sent cellphone file one below I have to send this one to to keep them in chronological order: Aug. 5, 11p, Monday, the animals doing the same pattern as last night, rape-force-waking me.

Aug 6, Tues., 7:30am, the Ginsberg like a parasite-blob, Man in Oriental Costume, “MIOC”-type, always sucking my morning thoughts. It usually makes an annoying signature sound to start the terrorization of my days, just so I’ll notice it’s “there,” however they do this Program.
Aug. 7, 11pm, the animals are ape***t with joy of torturing me, LURE/slaughter-torturing me probably, not just doing filth to drive me into a hospitals incarceration by itself, for that point — that, is mostly it, that they’ve set up for a brains harvesting industry off of me being stranded here and are forging with their “supply” enablement as ever.
I learned about the Rhode Island John Clarke b. 1609 today and he looks like the John Dee type I have to check on tomorrow, may be is part of the glee, big “show” entertaining the torturers with about themselves.
There’s also an aspect that like Bell’s obsession for deaf people, that this LURE is based on Spanish speakers that haven’t anything in common with me and this torture is just how their LURING was set up, that everyone is lied to by “intelligence” and doesn’t know or care what my communication attempts might be, while I’m pounded the s*** out of, invisibly, all the time.
10 sub, 12:30,am, I wish I could kill you whoever you are doing this to me. get off of me. 6:30am, the swine, animals, tortured me all night.
Aug. 11, the Jew’s toilet-bowl animals keep invisibly-whining about got to s*** the world as I’m trying to function and think what part of what I’ve got to do to get out of here I’d have to try to do next, everything like s*** as usual. I think my guess in “the British invasion” is probably correct, thousands of musically-happy Hubbards.

I’d had to jot this in the wrong place on the cellphone last night and so send it to here to try to straighten that out: August 11, 2019, Sun., 10pm,, the animals’ killing me is getting more vicious. They’re playing various game-tricks with computers and the cellphone. The search-engine is turned off again. I don’t think that’s connected to something the library can do, can’t guess why it turns on and off. this time it’s possible it’d been working again for a week before I noticed it was back on, so maybe it is that 3-week thing they do, I don’t know, everything is just feces. nothing but feces (except for the little pittance I can get done, if I can use that word.) I was about to try to look up “Strawberry Field/s” right now, it turns out it’s an orphanage where all the Beatles grew up and went to school around, so it’s looking like Liverpool was a big system breeding-people ground, probably connected with the Huxleys, but then the American versions and wherever exactly Hubbard fit in, that maybe the whole hairstyle comes from his system-growths. Then I’d found another bizarre-disgusting bitlet off of that 2009 “Breakshot” book, that I don’t have anyone to discuss with about it, a review by a (phony i.e,) 666 type, benefiting off of all this filth while feigning to be appalled that such exists.The animals are also increasingly playing what seems to me to be a “Hindu-game” of pilfering my pockets, “magically” causing things to drop out and be lost. But worse today that involved some stereotype like the boy here that I pay the rent to on Thursdays, a younger lookalike of him doing some scene-set on the bus that’s then connected to what dropped out if my pocket, and the “jew,” invisible director, follows my days around like this every nano-second till I’m starting to seem like a “crazy lady” to any planted other strangers’ evil against me purposes, blurting that one bus driver was/is, a tricky bowel-movement boy, then seeing that there were already other planted people on the bus who’d then witnessed that reaction to the “ordinary” set up of yakking through my skull 2 ways when I’m trying to do that fare-card tap, already having communicated not to do that to me but in directed-scenes the bums are carrying out an assignment and only care about getting that done, not what the pigeon thinks about it.– Now they’re doing one of their unintelligibility rituals and “magic” making something fall/be knocked over.
1a.m., these animals’ torture-machine must have snuck and screamed the word save into my head around 500 times today, that it’s that type of LURE, me wishing they were dead each time that they do that because the system thinks that it’s the world and feeding the system is what it”s doing, feeding itself off of that terminology gimmick. They did some connected blaspheme I can’t even jot about, it only excites the torturers to be discussed in any way.

— I have to figure out what if anything to try sending that Ms. Swasy, again. : Dear Ms. Swasy, I’ve emailed you before, and sent a letter last winter about that Ivory Soap photo and then’d tried a tweet. The library doesn’t have that most recent book or I’d have looked at it in preparation for trying you again. I have alot of anti-system evidence but it keeps me like a ghost-prisoner is how I’d gotten into evidence-collecting, so I’m always looking for a contact, anyone. You could send a mention that you’re (too) busy with school starting up again, for instance.

Things like trying to write to Jeb Bush or whoever the current mayor of Sierra Vista swirl through my mind as I try to function through all this, that I have to go somewhere because I know the jew’s patterns and this always only keeps getting worse, I’d posted that on the sidebar here when I’d “found” the little room, that wherever I go this goon-circus starts moving right in behind and unpacking and suck-spreading its parasitism till they rot-out the area from whatever they can get and then they want to move along. Here it’s like they could go all this upcoming winter, that they’ve just gotten this set up now it seems for really getting started with intaking LURE-victims, that it’d only be sick and disgusting whatever happens here in this shuttle-situation I’m in, back and forth between the 2 locations syndrome. I should be able to take a break like a normal person, think I’ll try to do that before getting too settled into being forced to keep going, just because my nerves are now so raw-bad anymore.

This noticing a correlation to where maybe DFW’s name was a coded reference to this (“nonexistant,” shhh ) LURE off of me might have come up off of me sending some reams of typing to one of the publishers in 1982, that orders to ignore me might have led to this “onion” -style layers of this cover-up of all this nothingness to do this to little me, with then that Planet Trillaphon, me wondering if the people who’d had that (written and) published had meant for that to be a part of this or if that was happenstance. But it’s full of the subconscious-type references to the past-lives type of racial memory things that are in our brains that I’d been expecting to find as I research this Autism and there hasn’t been anything except from that other kid born, like Wallace, in 1962, Sean Barron’s great memoir on his Autism, and just a little bit in a book by a child psychologist.

In this 1984 “Planet Trillaphon” he was David Wallace.

Surprise, surprise for me, as many times as I’ve search-engined for David Wallechinisky, who’d changed his name from Wallace a long but unspecified that I can find yet time ago, there wasn’t any reference to his all gov dot com website but I just found it now. He has a piece on the late Ernest Callenbach I’ll have to try to save to read for later somewhere here.

This was difficult; Detroit says portrait of Edsel Ford by Diego Rivera is owned not by themselves but that copyright went back to Rivera when Mrs. E. Ford passed, which sounds impossible and I’ve wound up trying to find out about it through the bank of Mexico: Portrait of Edsel Ford, by Diego Rivera, 1932 — I have to get a Fair Use Permission on this piece and the Detroit Inst. of Art says they do not have the copyright, it reverted to Sr. Rivera. I don’t think that is possible and am trying to check on it. == I filled that in after signing into an account to discuss or ask about this, and they likely haven’t any real idea what Edsel Ford’s portrait’s status is, but I really want it for here, it connects, never a pun by me or barely even any levity allowed, the torture gets everything, to the Frank Olson business. I think Olson might have been wanted for the rocket-making industry is what had “really” happened, and that I’m lumped with them or their stereotype in some way, and that’s all connected to that “French Connection/MK-Ultra” brain-serum industry scam business that this torture has always been and seems to bigtime still be doing through this with that I haven’t gotten that simple reply from my fraud-sibling on the simple request, etc., it’s time to sign out here, just one more little thing I want to try to look up but I’ll sign out from here first.

13 Aug., it’s beyond description, all this garbage they’re doing to and off of me.