The Hermits and the Pilgrims panels from the Ghent Altarpiece – the regular people they went to “pill” cheer up were grim because the food was running out, animals weren’t there anymore, it wasn’t that they were morose humans, there was a real emergency but nobody could figure what was wrong, that the dinosaur-food and other megafauna had been extincted. “God” of the Ghent Altarpiece — Adam of the Ghent Altarpiece
Vulcan of the apotheosis I have to crop tihis yet; trying o compare EL Drake with the Man In Oriental Costume portrait and the “St. Christopher” from the Ghent Altarpiece. Below are various pdfs I’ve sent on EL Drake: Drake book.pdf image — the father/founder of the petroleum industry e l drake .pdf book page– But then I went to get a picture of the gravesite sculpture and took a close look and it isn’t of Drake: Edwin Drake Monument.pdf:
found in DavidJRosso.com, designed by CH Niehaus, same as the Hahnemann Memorial about the Homeopathy that’s connected to the brain serum as being a “medicine.”
— I have to cut this off and start a 2nd, You Were Wrong… Part II file now, below the “Braintree da Vinci” file after this, because of all this new-to-me Allen Ginsberg finding —
I just went looking for this to include here and I’m bad-surprised. I’ll try to take a photo of and send it this evening, able to spot and grab this pdf from something I didn’t even look at, DavidJRusso.com. He’s got the only copy I could find offhand. I’d thought it was a peculiar sculpture-tribute to Drake but this guy’s face is like the 2 below, the guy who’d “stolen the Vatican” and maybe is the same as the Chancellor Nicholas Rolin, the face is. Oddly, the guy who said he was president of the volunteer fire department that the car-hit happened outside of in Kensington seems to also be of this type of face, and someone I’d had a bad experience with in 1978. I saw a cartoon-illustration of Aristotle that looked like that type also. Apparently it looks like that that guy is “The Driller” into the heads, skulls, brains to get high off of people like Drake, like this type of people. It’s sort of what I mean down below when I say that the protagonist’s “father” isn’t really her bio-father. I have to sign off now, real glad to have gotten this close-up of the Niehaus design for the gravesite of Drake and his wife.
Closely connected to the oil industry was their railroad industry which I’d guess necessitated more oil, and all the metalwork, bringing up this image of Vulcan from the ceiling-painting inside he dome of he Capitol Building: vulcan of the apotheosis
Judgment Call, p.1, Suzy Welch/Wetlaufer’s 1992 novel that I think is allegoric for her people’s, like these examples, experiences. I think the detective on this first page allegorizes the relationship between the protagonist’s type and the fraud-parent’s trype. I couldn’t understand why later in the story she doesn’t tell him the boy had probably murdered her next-door neighbors and finally I realized that she’d noticed there’s some sort of collusion or symbiosis between the boy as murderer and the detective as scavenger and so she was as afraid of him as of the boy. Here are some reviews I’d found: Suzanne Wetlaufer’s 1992 novel, “Judgment Call, 4 short reviews.”
This is a “combo” when I was learning to make pdfs, of bits from 3 different books, first 4 pages from a book on Dutch Schultz, from the Bronx, then 10 pages from Robin Moore’s 1969 “The French Connection” write-up, and then, in backwards order yet I think, 7 pages from near the end of Suzanne Wetlaufer/Welch’s “Judgment Call” novel.
Library Journal Review: Tough young journalist Sherry Estabrook moves to Miami to escape her aristocratic, unloving parents and takes a job on The Citizen. On assignment at a high school for a story about teens and drugs she meets Manuel Velo who tells her that he has been a hit man for the Lopez mob since he was 14. With visions of a Pulitzer goading her on, Sherry furiously pursues the story, not realizing that Manuel is becoming obsessed with hr. The psychopath draws her ever more tightly into his web, until her poor judgment leads to tragedy. The author, herself a former journalist, crafts a gripping plot in this first novel, not as gruesome as Thomas Harris’s The Silence of the Lambs….
Booklist Review: Intelligent and suspenseful, this thriller, the author’s first, has already been optioned for a movie and selected by the Literary and Mystery Guilds. A cinch for popular success, it’s chock-full of exaggerated characters, juicy subplots, digestible social commentary, passion, obsession, insanity, ambition, dread, and violence. It’s the kind of book that makes a reader feel both superior and eager, always two steps ahead of the main character but several behind the writer. Sherry Estabrook, a novice newspaper reporter and the daughter of a corrupt judge, came to steamy Miami by way of Marblehead, Massachusetts, a bastion of Yankee aristocracy and decadence. All nerves and spleen (but of course, drop-dead beautiful,) she’s determined to land the one big story that will catapult her to fame well before she turns 30. Poor judgment is the leitmotif of the book. Sherry’s evident in everything she does, from choosing boyfriends to harassing her nasty neighbors, but her worse offense is to trust a 16-year old assassin. Manuel offers her the story of her life, the story of his, including detailed descriptions of 17 murders he committed for the ruthless Lopez family. Sherry spends hours alone with Manuel and her tape recorder, in spite of his obvious infatuation with her and lethal madness. Naturally, things get dicey, dangerous, and complicated, pulling Sherry’s friends and coworkers into a vortex of stupidity, evil, and death. Clever, well-constructed, and not too bloody, this will please the good-read crowd. (4/15/92, Donna Seaman)
Publisher’s Weekly Review: Ambition and personal need clash with the law and professional ethics in this engaging but uneven first novel about murder and the media in the killing fields of South Florida’s cocaine trade. Beautiful, brash and bring, Sherry Estabrook has fled the country-club lifestyle of her New England heritage for the heat of Miami, where she reports on crime for the Miami Citizen. While researching a piece on drug use in the schools, she and her partner, Belinda, meet Manuel, a 16-year old assassin for the Lopez crime family. Spurred by visions of a Pulitzer Prize, the young women set out to chronicle Manuel’s handiwork — some 18 grisly murders so far. Soon Sherry is entangled in a complex, dangerous relationship with the troubled boy. For star reporters, Sherry and Belinda are incredibly naive, blind to perils that scream out at the reader and to important details of the story they’re pursuing. Despite a tendency to over-explain characters’ personalities and motivations, Wetlaufer’s evocation of steamy Miami, her unusual villain and clever plotting create a gripping, often horrifying thriller. Literary Guild and Mystery Guild alternates, film rights to Disney. (July, copyright PW.)
Kirkus Review: A reporter’s juicy nightmare: Miami Citizen scribe Sherry Estabrook, investigating drugs in a local high school, meets 16-year old Manuel Velo, who tells her he’s iced 18 people (he thinks it’s 18,) for Mimi Lopez’s mob. Of course it doesn’t sound like a nightmare to Sherry and her sidekick Belinda McEvoy, who are dreaming of Pulitzers before Sherry can even set up the first taped interview with Manuel. But as Sherry, — still trying (courtesy of endless flashbacks) to use this story to get even with her unloving Boston father, Judge Estabrook, — is running Manuel’s sordid, matter-of-fact revelations through a lie-detector-test, driving him around to revisit the scenes of his hits, and swallowing his tale of wanting to start a new life away from the mob, she’s overlooking screamingly telltale signs: Manuel’s lack of remorse for his crimes, his obsessive attraction to her, and incidentally her sometime lover Brazil’s newfound devotion to his hardscrabble wife Jean, and Belinda’s unlikely romance with Officer Eladio Alvarez. All guarantee that Sherry’s life is about to go into a horrifying, lonely tailspin. After chapters and chapters of painful teasing — it’s in this queasy-making middle section that first-novelist Wetlaufer really shines, — Manuel tries to consolidate what he thinks is his romance with Sherry by executing two pesky neighbors who’d killed her cat, and the book promptly goes over the top with a whirlwind of threats, betrayals, counterplots, sleepless nights — and one final midnight meeting between Sherry and Manuel, whose heart-rending denouement is reassuringly predictable. Like Manuel, Wetlaufer goes for the jugular; there’s more subtlety in a tabloid headline.
— Checking it now I see I haven’t yet written to Little, Brown publishing company. I haven’t used much but the 1 picture and everything has been emergency basis, no frivolous uses of the material, but now this is 10 pages that I’d gotten for personal information emergency-use and I didn’t know how to do this photocopying well back then to separate the pieces. Suzy Wetlaufer/Welch’s 7 or 8 pages are at the bottom under “The French Connection’s” pages and it’s almost all of the end except it’s backwards with page 424 being the bottom of the pdf, then above it is 425, 426, 427, 428 and 429. I think the book was 430. My point was trying to find and show the part where she tries to explain to the father-character what her/the situation is/was, me trying to show her confusion and breathlessness, if that’s in there, from my recollection of my quick 18 hours with the whole book back in Nov.-Dec. 2014 when I’d found it but I didn’t get to spend much time with it before it was gone from library shelves. Then this copy I’d gotten from the Library of Congress but I only get a short time to try to intake a lot of material and have to work quickly so I haven’t really gone back over this yet. My point is that the global-system runs, as with this “God” of the Ghent Altarpiece group’s picture just below here (I’ll try to get a color copy soon,) that the system runs where a captive very similar to the novel protagonist, Sherry, based on Ms. Welch and her situation working for a Florida newspaper back in the ’80s I think it was, some similar situation and she turned it into a novel but I think it’s a gifted piece of work that actually allegorizes the larger picture, that the Autist underworld gave these captives the title of “God” and judge and magician-servant and the global-system runs on their “creation” of all these things, like the computers and the cell phones and supermarkets and whatever we have…. And I’m trying to get attention to that that tantamount I think the word is, that’s like letting someone like this protagonist Sherry or Ms. Welch herself or this guy dressed-up as “God” run the planet as captives to the Autists and run this “Armageddon Program” that’s been being perpetrated onto me for decades now and I keep trying to get attention to that “Sherry” et al., maybe a band of 12 uber-Masters of the Universe magicians or what not, are like Sherry in those 424-29 pages, breathlessly trying to describe how all this disaster is just a whirlwind she was caught-up into, but isn’t the world beautiful, come look with me, to a guy who probably isn’t her real parent. Everything is fake and she’s trying to explain to a faker and she can’t tell the real truth because actually she’s a captive person to the paternal character so she has to “act” as though she believes the story while trying to get him to normalize, but here I’m reading too much into it because I don’t know how to describe that her parents can’t really be allegorical when nobody but me says the novel is allegorical. I did try to get a note to this publisher, but I think it was a computer-form they had me fill out maybe, and I simply don’t ever hear back from anyone about anything, just am always in a vacuum doing things like this, like I’m talking to myself to while away the time while Sherry’s type has thought up this “Program” LURE-way of getting the father-character’s wishes fulfilled. The 16-year old boy Manuel is the Autist-psychopath in this story. There was one other part I’d wanted to photocopy but I don’t want to get anyone upset about copyright infringement so I’d skipped it but after I reread this clip maybe I’ll recollect the situation a little better, while I was only able to skim the most of this really good book, full of all kinds of details that pertain to the larger picture. One of the major characters is named Brazil and I couldn’t figure out why that character had such a big role but now I’m starting to realize that Alexander Graham Bell might have undercover-spent alot of years there while this guy pictured in the file below from the 13th and K Sts. signboard was holding his place here perhaps.
And then Mr. Welch had worked at General Electric’s Plastics division in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and I’m trying to trace where there this mural is/was, that has a generational-slave #2 holding that picket sign: Pittsfield. Mr. Welch is said to be from Salem in Massachusetts.
Parnassus, by Mantegna Here’s another picture I have to crop in order to highlight a detail, the guy in the red cloak in this one. It turns out they’ve got a girl in one of these 2 shelters I’m in that I think is descended from this “line” or type of people, and alot more than just this one example I’ve just noticed, but she’s becoming a big problem for me, spewed filth in my direction for half an hour yesterday and nobody ever notices these things because everything is wrong and it’s just one more wrong thing that’s going on and nobody know why, just everyone’s probably scared of the same decapitation-system and trying to get through, and of course the underworld stages everything so that it’s smooth for when they stage attacks. I’ll try to make a second copy of these pictures that I don’t want to crop if I’ve only got one copy of them, like this one, because that red-cloaked character, maybe he came from the line of Casimir’s creations that’d become Vlad Dracula Tepes. I’m trying to pull all these different types of material together into this blogsite, move them closer together. “It’s A Small World After All,” it’s a small world after all, it’s a small world after all, curse-song. The mess that was left from the reign of Dracula-gemerational-slave I think is what became the foundation of today’s petroleum industry, all that much in Romania, the system didn’t want evidence around and the slaves are always scrounging for ways to stay alive and I think that setting fire to the muck and then using it as war-weapon had led to all kinds of experiments with the muck left over from all that blood-getting of the Dracula-era, and that that’d spread to all coal-tar experiments and then kerosene lighting and then gasoline and then rocket fuel and all kinds of the plastic synthetic things and garbage bags that we’ve got everywhere, off of the dead-body parts muck. I think they were mostly collecting blood for their people-growing experiments is why there was so much of the impaling, and all that was on the ground and left like a swamp-marsh. I’ll try to look up the name of that main area in Transylvania, it begins with a P. Hermann Oberth is said to be from that area, (but I think that’s a cover-story for his second life after capture by the Autists.) — Ploiesti, I think that that’s where Dracula’s type of work had mostly gone on around and from there, trying to hide the evidence, the system-people had kept trying to find uses for all that and it wound up to be our global petroleum-paradigm.
the root problem (adam and eve with counselor)
(12/23/16, fri.) I’ve taken to trying to research those Psalms of David for the Autism-system evidences and now the idea is occurring that the system had “lifted” those first 5 books of the bible from the female like in this cartoon, that those writings were attempt to explain this situation and then the male invader-Autist type had gone into the insanity and began arguing for the female to turn over the writing as well as the dead-children carcasses, etc., like in a break-up arguing. That would mean that the new captives like illustrated by this counselor saying that both people are the same here, no favorites, would have started their captive-chronicles with that chronicles book and then onto the prophets, etc.
He’s cursing those normal-seeming people probably for showing off their happiness, but it’s seeming like that he’s a branch or “line” or type from the regular #2 generational-slave type that I’m here calling the Merchant of Venice type, that perhaps they have 12 types of themselves or more, etc. Maybe this type had descended from experiments in people-growing with the Vlad Dracula type around Romania. Right now I can’t get a close-up of his face like I thought I could by getting this detail separated. I suspect they’re one of the regular types of the generational-slave #2 type that then includes all those Jesus types too I guess, and that they’re all around in everyday life and that girl, in fact she was doing a scene yesterday and today also, has been some sort of a regular-character to this unprovable Armageddon Program off of me. This morning however there was some weird scene with two or three of the other regulars and one of them brought up that the tribe of Dan isn’t included in those Revelation prophecies, so now I’m wondering if this type, all of them perhaps descended from the Krakow King Casimir III, the Great, if this type of them might not be that “Dan” tribe, that, God forfend, they are just selected to be the non-surviving underworld-stranded type, similar to how I seem to have been selected to be a/the victim type. I’ll be trying to get a better look at this but I think I’ve got alot of them around here and there as regular everyday people but who are cogs in the system-machinery.
I don’t like not to stick to the post-subject, this being about the Merchant of Venice Armageddon-difficulty I’ve got, but the girl and the group seem already to have come from “grown” from disembodied ovaries grown-people. I suspect they’re part of the “Nasi” business, Joseph Nasi’s growing of people toward this Plan difficulty all his people were/are in. I think she might be Isabella d’Este, that whole group from that time-period. Perhaps related to her would then be the darkened type that Pearl Bailey was part of and yesterday I found another Cultural Tourism photo of Bailey except it didn’t seem too interesting and I’ve always got strange goings-on that make me not want to be attracting any attention so I didn’t take a picture of the picture but then I was thinking about it and perhaps the guy in the background is that big-then influential 2nd husband of hers, last name of Pinkett I think but I haven’t been able to get anywhere with much of anything practically since reading her memoirs back last March maybe it was, maybe April, that everything I try to do is thwarted in this invisible warfare and most of my time is just wasted, – like this complaining is the big fat waste they force my time-use into. Then I was mulling that maybe that Pinkett is the primo genitur or maker-creator of these guys that I’m always seeing around around here and they don’t ever seem to be of any positive assistance to anything that I’m doing but they haven’t this similar-seeming outer appearance and maybe that’s because they’re offspring-descendants from Bailey’s eggs with Pinkett’s primo genituring or fertilizing, so I’ll try to go back and get that but I think it’s already too late to be able to do it today.
from Russell Johnson’s memoir, The Skipper, the Professor, Gilligan, photo, pdf It’s like the Autists represented by Gilligan and his buddy the Neanderthal represented by the Skipper, capture the normal-person Professor and make him work for them, and he’s forbidden to have the girls like him or anything because they’re for the shy/voyeuring/horrible Autist and Neanderthal partners or nobody, and that’s decapitation-enforced.
This too is pretty disorganized and I’ll try to get and smoothe things out a little better, but this seems to be where the direction of the Armageddon “Program” comes from, and then there’s above, the guys who run these guys, which I’ve been positing for nearly 20 years now might have been disembodied, their brains disembodied, somehow functioning to run this global-system for the Autists that have them captive.
..business or 2 where I don’t desire any controversiality because this is dealing with whether the planet Earth and therefore biology might have a chance of surviving so I despise any form of game-playin or trivial-thinking or trouble. Before the car-hit I’d looked this guy up on the Internet and it was a different person as him, some identity-switch. The guy wrote 3 books and these are the cover/author photos and he’s a big deal college teacher and museum-person in Montana, like how could somebody with kids and families possibly be identity-switched but that’s exactly what it looked like and I didn’t know what to make of it and I’m already trying as hard as I can to contact assistance and I’m just in a vacuum by myself. Add to that that this face seems to be one of the “Armageddon Program director” -types’, a regular “Merchant of Venice” -type if you figure so is Allen Ginsberg and Francis Ford Coppola for instance, that that makes the situation a little more complicated to where I have to try to figure if maybe in place of helping to figure out the dinosaur situation he was actually sabotaging the subject. I think it’s about the same with the “Exoplanets” subject/situation, where one of the bigshots in that that field has this same face more or less, and I’d even actually had managed to contact that one while I was in the hospital and he was just busy and there was hardly anything in this blog yet back then and we just hung up the phone and I haven’t tried to re-contact, what I did was try to get on the “following” list for the blog of his partner and there’s been nothing, like that the partner has discontinued the blog or some such. That’s Geoffrey Marcy, with Paul Butler as the partner that I guess looks something like Dr. Horner’s type there only Dr. Horner is gone now, the face has changed I mean. The red picture above I think is a nearly-clear indication that Dr. Horner is Ghent Altarpiece-connected, all those rocks look like the ones in that, the being tied, something at the feet like it looks like a skull is under the large red-cloaked “St. Christopher’s” feet, etc. Dr. Horner is said to have been the inspiration for the paleontologist in that “Jurassic Park” film, which I haven’t seen or read the book to, Dr. Allan Charnier or some such maybe. That film played over and over and over while I was in this downtown shelter at 2nd and D Streets, NW, the John L. Young women’s shelter part of that complex, but I don’t want much TV and only heard this horrific growling all the time, as this holocaust goes on off of me. This summer it’s a whole growling-to-traffic-vehicle and other machine-noises extravaganza all around me, my skull, those noises “trick” played off of so that it’s like I’m walking through the Jurassic Park sometimes, motorcycles especially that’s being done to. Then there’s a really “controversial” sensitive peculiar point to this also that I don’t even want to write down about but it’s becoming increasingly necessitated as there’s just no let-up in this gratuitous invisible-torture spree off of and to me.
I consistently say that this type of people must be generationally-enslaved, but I’m all by myself; nobody takes only one opinion for meaning much, I could be all mistaken or backwards in not suspecting this “Merchant of Venice” type of either the Autism-psychopathy or maliciousness, malicious sadism, how should I guess? That statue on Edwin Drake’s grave-area, that might be one of the hubrid “combo-bombos” off of this type’s mixing with a large-sized female Autist-type. There is a regular female Autist type that I don’t have any examples of, a larger size of the type that the late screenwriter Anita Loos was, she a very tiny little lady who was a massive Autist. For her type to have a large-size “diversified” version, that’s alot of the Autism, — like a female version of the guy in that “The Driller” statue on Drake’s grave or like on the cover of that “Doomed Planet,” a huge-sized of the St/e. Foy reliquary-statue model. So I’m finally getting this mention of Horner in here. I’d meant it to be about his work on the dinosaur subject but in all the time that it’s taken me to get to this the “Armageddon Program” has taken over all the other subjects. I don’t even know where his books are now since the “big” library closed, I’ll try to look that up because there’s something real odd and connected to this “show” that is a running-theme in his 3 books.
… (I’m not sure if this got broken off of something else:) … was also, to my thinking, like the Vlad “Dracula” Tepes type of the generational-slave #2 types. Recall that Mond was keeping the Bibles and the Shakespeare locked away, that that’s part of what they’re doing off of me with this libraries-“obsession” that I’ve got in all these years, that all I do is to go to libraries and the Armageddon Program gets done from those and the books keep disappearing and being replaced and the system says that everything’s on computer so you don’t have to have books, go look it up on those, but normal people aren’t going to be being allowed to use the Autist-system’s computers, like I’ve nearly never been allowed to, and for me it might get worse at any time and for everyone else right behind that then. I can’t figure what “the Director” or the His-Fordship are specifically like in this book.
Tsiolkovsky — I had to delete the post this was in, #217, because I’m trying to keep this to 14 blogroll-pages and trying for 4 “oages ” in the background, of the MENU files.
Tsiolkovsky was the big person behind the whole space-race as far as I can ascertain, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky. I guess he looked alot like Wilhelm Wundt and I’m trying to keep track of where all these genes come and go around from, where Ginsberg might have been connected to this main rocket scientist.
allen ginsberg too This is a big subject I’ve been trying not to have to get into because all this whole line of people seems to want is for all of my time of my life and thought to be spent on about themselves and this torture of me, on and on all day long with every one of my days, blah-blah about anything about themselves, but it’s so horrific that I have to try to start to pull together the materials on this MAN-BOY LOVE fan or afficianado or member or however I could try to get this across non-controversially, that this type is some major one of the Merchant of Venice types that do this Armageddon Program, and it’s just awful, like Jurassic Park all the time on any excuse lately as this gets worse and worse against little me. Allen Ginsberg’s “type” of people have nothing or extremely little in common with anyone like me, they haven’t any use for females like myself except using us as drugs and meat and petroleum-profit money and that like, but they’ve been taking over this Armageddon Program directing more and more lately and I’m defenseless defenseless against their centuries or longer of organized whatever they’re doing. They work in big “spawns” of brothers and sisters and I don’t know what, we haven’t anything in common, I’m all by myself. I’ll have to try to make an area of all these different types that go into this type here, like Francis Ford Coppola is a big example for instance, and writers from the Bronx and a writer now that’s got illustration-work that goes to what I’m dealing with too well that it seems like this “Allen Ginsberg-type” has been running this Bathgate Avenue Market mass-reproduction on these fraud-family people and their reproductive matter into big business or corporation-product business, and I’m just inundated right now. Please, back off, bums. I found this photo of Ginsberg on the back of a book where the copyright probably says nothing without publisher’s permission, which is all a big scam too because of all the Autism’s stealing all the time, if you don’t give them as they beg they get someone to steal whatever they want for themselves, sit underground and suck-in the world to its death. Notice how much Ginsberg looks like that “counselor” in the “Blame Game” cartoon, and that cartoon-illustration I’m figuring is part of all this “conspiracy” of this Ginsberg-type’s being all behind-the-scenes directing this Armageddon Program off of me all these years, that it’s too specific, in conjunction with a number of other illustrations and also the book it comes from is one I might easily have noticed and it’s got the section on the Book of Revelation that I’d like to use for example/discussion-matter. The (only probably around here) library that’s got that copy I haven’t been able to get to to look at its copyright. Think that’s the one in Marietta maybe, the publisher, but trying to find out about the authors it’s looking like they are these “Program” types, like a “Shahan-type” and a type like that, above here, statue called “The Driller,” might be the type of that text-author or who the text is attributed to. All these years I’ve been figuring that this “Merchant of Venice/Ghent Altarpiece” -type comes from generational-slavery, but I’m only trying to guess all this invisible world stuff. It’s seemed that the generational-slaves set up the royal houses or more modernly the business/corporations and then just give whatever to the Autists and their types of system-types, mainly the Autists I guess, that that’s seemed to be the pattern, but maybe they give those set-up houses to the Autists because those are their “combo-bombo creations” from this growing-people “science” that they’re mainly doing, while they then get to sit-live underworld or whatever. I’m too fraught with every “problem” and know the time-warning-signal on this new program the library branches are using is going to start going off and flashing and my time is liminted and they’ve really “junked up” (a slang for brain is that it’s just the “junk” leftover after the meat is gotten to so I don’t like to use the word for that reason,) my day today for their stealing it from me.
Similar-looking to Ginsberg are the writers Ira Levin and E.L. Doctorow.
There are the dinosaur-expert Jack Horner and the Exoplanet-finder partner of Geoffrey Marcy ______________, the name escapes my mind right now. (Paul Butler.) I’d sent him the URL of this blogsite just before I got car-hit I guess, and had called from the hospital to see if he’d gotten it and he said he’d been on the road for 4 months and was just getting back and looking at his mail soon.
8/8, and a recently-passed, circa 2008, author living on Long Island named Milt Machlin who’d worked on some movel called The Set Up with Robin Moor around 1975, he seems to have looked like this “Allen Ginsberg-type” I’ll have to call it as this grows worse and worse after 24-25 years of this, that whoever’s doing this to me hasn’t learned anything. Now I’m getting back to trying to check on a brother of Allen Ginsberg’s boyfriend Peter Orlovsky, Julius Orlovsky, and so far I’ve got that Allen and Peter had written a book about Julius called “My Brother and Me,” so I’ll have to sign off from here and try to go find out more about this book, and there was a film then after that, directed by I think Frank Roberts. I’m thinking it might have been the inspiration for the film Rain Man, circa 1982 with Dustin Hoffman and Tom Cruise as the non-Autist brother, but in retrospect maybe they were high-functioning and regular or “classic” Autism. It’s a little worrisome that that would mean that this “Ginsberg” or “Heinrich Schule” or even maybe Konstantin Tsiolkovsky helped to create Ginsberg, seems to be experts on about the 3 most important subjects here:
1- the Autism that has the brain damage, developmental disability, that’s forcing us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION
2- the extinctied dinosaurs/food that’s missing subject
3- and that the universe, space, is all out there empty and barren because the human race is aborting because of the Autism, that we’re going extinct instead of growing out into all that space, those are about the 3 most important subjects here and if there is a link between Ginsberg to that Rain Man story that would make that “stereotype” or line or sub-race-type or whatever of his family-bio-lineage as being the know-it-all experts saying I’m wrong about whatever I think about
2- the extincted dinosaurs, through Jack Horner’s having grabbed the expertise-slot on that
3- the exoplanets, the planets that are created by just sitting unevolved and biology-less without us because we’ve been de-spirited. I’m starting to notice the pattern that this same Ginsberg-Merchant of Venice/generational-slave according to what I think might be the all-time background to everything, this type is like an expert on all the subjects that are intrinsic to what I’m trying to explain about this and how to get out of it.
Last night I had the “standard insomnia-torture” of being invisibly-molested till I was awake and while trying to fall back to sleep while being kept forced-awake by the torture/anonymous torturers that have an affect like that Man In Oriental Costume to a Ginsberg-seeming type increasingly lately, it occurred to me that maybe I should look into renaming the blogsite, will at least try to make a little banner to go above the title here saying that it’s a.k.a. Resuce-God-Attempt.WordPressCom etc. I hadn’t used the word “God” in the title because it’s such a torn-apart word, what the underworld’s been doing with it, but the situation is getting worse for me personally because of my age and I’m starting to get the “hysteria” that Labor Day is soon approaching and I have absolutely nothing toward getting out of this “rat-hole” toward finding out about my guess about Sabin’s letters, that come Labor Day I start becoming horrified that I’d be stranded here another winter and yesterday was all rotten cold rain, a whole “Armageddon Program” attack, invisible sneak-attack usual, onto me over that I had to do a little clothes wash, the Autists’-system/whoever is torturing me, believe they own everything, they own clothes and clothes washers and dryers and computers and coffee and cherries, — coincidence about the letter “c” I don’t know, it’s just this way all the time, since 2002 I can’t do clothes wash without a deluge of the invisible-warfare “tricks” all over the process, so when they woke me “for” torture-time I was musing and thinking maybe it’s time I could get more specific, as the UniverseRescue is God’s Creation’s rescue, God had made that universe for us and we’re never going to get to see it and eternity with nothing going on for the Creator but that empty unused unseen present for gone us, and good riddance too by the time that that comes because the Autists, like Ginsberg I can only guess as this pattern-set is relentless against tiny nobody me, they only want whatever they want and nothing for anyone else, that if they are slaves then it’s that they want just for themselves and whoever they’re slaves for and everyone else is just like a stepping stone toward pleasing whoever they’re slaves for, which I’ve been saying is the Autist-psychopath type that put phony “Neanderthals” up as a front as though they’re the boss, as thought the “Of Mice and Men” duo of George and Lenny with George saying that Lenny is the boss of everything, you have to follow Lenny’s orders (yeah, yeah, the scam that I figure the Ghent Altarpiece Pilgrim-boy had pulled on that large red figure that’s then leading the other males.)
So I’ve tried to learn about Julius Orlovsky before and it was only through books and it seems some of the pictures are mislabeled between (amongst) the 3 Orlovsky brothers, but now I might be able to get a little further on the Internet, but don’t get much time on these and really have to try to get some assistance for myself out here, the pattern is always that I have to find more and more evidence. This morning in trying to walk here through the invisible torture I’d described this to it as me trying to prove that feces smells bad is all this is, and that’s not what I’d started the Universe Rescue attempt blogsite for obviously but it’s what this gutter-circus always keeps me dragged down to. When I thought of re-naming the blogsite or using that as a title over the front page then this morning it was a whole Gospel-God-Ghent-type theme, mixing by interpolating themselves onto the normal people’s thoughts about God; Yay God, Yay God, but they’ve twisted it to that it’s them that is God. Ginsberg used to go around saying that but I’ve only found quotes from that one first time maybe at Timothy Leary’s house, that telephone call, Hello, this is God speaking, him tripping on that is the only write-up I’ve found on that subject. — Now the computer just played a trick, to make it seem like I’m getting some “stolen time” or “God knows what” the old expression goes, this scam is this time. They have this new system of 2 70-minute sessions with these warning lights to drive you nuts so I quick-clicked the warning light to turn it back off but it had a different message and now there’s like a riot-threat filthy scene going on as though it’s over this quick-click that I’d done and as the message went away I saw it said it was about another 70 minutes, not a warning sign about 10 or 4 or 1 or what they are trying to destroy over this time. I wasn’t on computers much until May, and in June the cellphone, Lifeline, and finding out that Alexander Graham Bell had lived near these strange places I’m stranded in had come together, plus there’s one other detail I haven’t gotten to about all this, because I don’t have anyone to verify anything with. Just that I’m trying to learn about Julius Orlovsky now in suspecting that it’s somewhat connected to the Bathgate Avenue Market/Watergate business that I have all over me and then it is also connected to the French Connection narcotics situation all over my life too, but I’m thinking that the Bathgate mass-reproducers from that procured reproductive materials of this fraud-family from the Bronx that I was/am from, I’m thinking that that’s connected to Ginsberg perhaps throught those other writers like him that were from the Bronx, Ira Levin and E.L. Doctorow, that they were involved in the Bathgate aspect of all this and they were involved with Ginsberg in being “spawn-brothers” of the same family-line facial appearance, and that Ginsberg might have gone into Rain Man mass-reproduction of his boyfriend-mate’s brother Julius, because this invisible-torture to me is largely or mostly about “Julie-whore, Julie-whore is better than you, better than you” for all these years that’s been the main theme. They were likely having that piped into my head last night while I try to ignore all that and think through it, that that’s like their main LURE off of me, doing “show” underworld-entertainments I guess, can only guess at from uninvolved up here, and they’ve got these “pointy-cheeked,” high cheekboned, girls always all over me and it occurred to me that a couple of the ones they use to bother me most mornings in trying to use the ladies’ room at this “Inferno-shelter” might be from Julius Orlovsky, but I haven’t been able to get real clear pictures or him so far. Yesterday I think I read on the Internet-search that he’d been in Binghamton and then to nearby Kirkwood, NY, where Allen had visited him in the 1980s then. So that’s what I’ll be trying to figure out, if Allen and Peter had gone into underworld people-growing and that that’s what this invisible-torture of myself is mostly because of, not negating that it’s also all petroleum-oil company business too, where some of these girls that seem out here to be used as “Julie-types,” it seems that there is a connection between them and one of the big oil companies, that I suspect had had a base in the Bronx, that the name “Dutch Schultz” for that Arthur Fleggenheimer Bronx guy, his nickname or taken name, was really a “code” for talking about oil interests in that Bathgate Avenue area, and hence E.L. Doctorow’s novel called Billy Bathgate, as a cover-story about “Dutch Schultz.”
— I am desperate and haven’t got hardly any time for trying to organize this blogsite yet, and it isn’t healthy to spend that much time on computers, really, the position isn’t good, it probably isn’t that easy to use them outside in the fresh air, as I’ve noticed that this cellphone-camera doesn’t much like the sunshine, I have to try to sit in the shade to keep it cool yet find a way to get light onto the target-item. In my current desperation I’m going to try to quick-add this long story in a short note into this post:
I guess I’d gone to scratch that note about the housing-search that I was trying to do by computer and this “Man In Oriental Costume” or Merchant of Venice type or whatever had inaudibly mused, as I’d gotten up to find paper to just the address, that I hadn’t written anything about the car hit or accident. The whole time I was in the hospital I was wondering what I’d then jotted about this bizarre pre-car-hit “accident” and this is all I’ve found, that I’d jotted in response that, before “2” weeks befor… but that isn’t really a number 2, that’s a proofreading “delete” mark. More later….
(8/8) — could you imagine if I’d had some jotted piece of “evidence” that that had happened, but it’s a little too complicated to explain, that I’d been set up to be in a “jinxed” -type room and I guess, having just now in late May or such found out that that subpoena and insurance company were referring to an accident where my name was used but I was a block south and being picked up by some other ambulance, and it just gets worse and worse to try to describe, and in retrospect I figure that I’d been hypnotized to believe I’d been hit by a car and been to a hospital and had found my way back to the shelter and into bed and wasn’t hurt and I went about business sort of groggily or what and that little “inaudible” trick had wanted me to make a note, which would have been like verifying that the hypnotized-trick had been real life, and the people in the hospital would have put me up on the psych ward, because they also had a character lurking around who looked like the prominent doctor during the hypnosis-experience-dream, like trying to dredge up fear-trouble inside of me. My point is is that I’ve been describing that I’m alone with this “Armageddon Program” that seems to be directed by this Man In Oriental Costume portrait type-face, and that prodding me to write a note on the not-real experience might have caused me to be labeled crazy, and then there was some similar instance this past May, and I’m leery now for something connected to the May incident, which is too micro-layers of complexity to try to describe to a void, here where I’m in this riot-set up sabotage library branch for the fraud-family in particular, that this branch is a part of the Man In Oriental Costume-Ginsberg-Merchant of Venice type “Armageddon Program” set up in particular, is really bad for trouble-making for unsuspecting normal people off of all kinds of tricks they “invisibly” play all around me, like “giving” me this “extra” time, where there’s never any telling what these things are doing or why there should be a time limit, they’re just squeezing intelligence out of “the picture” of for other people in what they figure somehow is their world, and I’m saying that they figure that because of the brain damage that that Sylvian fissure on the left side of our brains is the biggest scar from, and the damage is evidence by the growth of dark instead of light hair color, that dark hair is like a sign of a bruise underneath there and the system breeds for “E Pluribus Unum” black-haired Autists, like perhaps Julius Orlovsky looks to have been or still be.
8/9. The author Ira Levin was one of this “Ginsberg-type.” I’d had a thought this morning, that besides Tsiolkovsky where else they might have been bio-parented from. This Levin, he’d written those horror books and “Rosemary’s Baby” was one of them and they’re tearing me up out here with this inane crap with this one I call the “Thunderville-performer” that the “Sea Monkeys” post is from, that they’ve been chasing me around to try to avoid that for over the year or so since I’ve been back in Washington after the car-hit with that and now they moved it into the same room I’m in at the horror-shelter and I’m just trying to avoid the “Armageddon Program” acts like that and it’s right there, so eerie and all the underworld-type tricks, that this c**** is how they do those book of Revelation promise-threats would show a person that there’s nothing of substance to this system, no future off of making the world or global-civilization by harassing a girl’s life to oblivion like this. I’m trying to figure what they’d thought their world-making was going to be like if I hadn’t gotten into the Army in 1973, and I think I was only able to get into the Army because there was some period of confusion after the underworld under the other side of the world saw that there wasn’t any great harvest of riches coming from space for themselves, so I’d been able to sneak out of the Bronx set-up for this global-system. It would have been many times worse than it is if they’d gotten what they’d expected, that I’d just be right there instead of how now it’s spread out around somewhat, what they’ve done with my reproductive matter that they’ve been sneaking off of me as part of that Bathgate Avenue-captured fraud-family. I guess they’d had me put into that family with expecting my reproductive parts to go into growing all kinds of meat and drugs victims, victim-people for the cannibalism-system, walking around the Bronx or wherever in that city, that that would all be the same.
I was also thinking about a little-seeming peculiar thing from the Bronx “French Connection” neighborhood when I was around 6 years old, that a boy had been shot, sniped from the rooftop, practically right in front of me — and they’ve got one of the many “fraud-parent lookalikes” sitting across from where I am that the underworld is doing some one of their many annoying tricks to me by now, — and to my recollection all the kids had run up to someone’s apartment, maybe on the 2nd floor it was in that 5-story building right there down the street from the big P.S. 66 school but on the Longfellow Avenue side. I’m not positive it was the same incident but I don’t even know the lady whose apartment it was, maybe it was a 2nd time and I was back in that same apartment and this time had noticed one of her baby’s toys, one of those “busy boxes” but it was a great busy box and never again have I seen one anything like it, all the busy boxes since then seem like just mundane and not any big deal, cute but cheap and not very mentally engaging. This strange guy that looks like the face of the fraud-parent, — now maybe that’s moving away, was real weird for a couple of minutes there. All these different “characters” carry on around me all day long every day year after year here and I don’t really know a soul in this whole town anywhere, am just all by myself with one character after another that I don’t really ever learn anything about and there’s never any point to asking anyone any questions because the system seems to have people say just anything to me, nothing of any value, just like the disappeared busy box that I never saw the like of that type again. So now I’m thinking that with no life to speak of except waiting to see when/if/how I’d finally get a Social Security old age check that I could use to get out from this place on, that I don’t have anything except these 2 hours a day that the system’s been letting me work on this Universe Rescue-attempt by, and it is like a “busy box” and the system’s likely to whisk it out of my life the same way that I guess they’d purposely let me see the quality baby-toy and then nothing but cheap imitations ever since. I’m assuming that the brain behind doing that to me was this same “Merchant of Venice/generational-slave/Man In Oriental Costume/brain-blob under Siber-Mongolia type based on nothing except an incident in 2004 that I also can’t get any further information on so far and probably never will be able to at this late point in my life, no more chance to go back to the Bronx and try to re-trace my steps of that particular day, where I’d walked down the elevated subway steps near the Bronx Zoo’s Asian entrance I guess it was, near West Farms Square road or some such, and it seems like that right there when I crossed the street there was an ancient synogogue, and I think it was right at the start or that nearby right there was a Longfellow Avenue sign. I’d thought it was the beginning of that street but on maps now I see that that runs all the way southeast too, is a long street, so it was about in the middle of it somewhere as you cross that big West Farms street or what under the elevated tracks. Trying to find out the name of the synagogue since I got on computer now and then since July 2015, there’s nothing there, there’s no listing of old synagogues that mention that particular unusual tiny, like a 1-room, building that I’d seen, like it was just a pile of those big round stones that was quick-stacked together for one of the hoaxes on me or what. And that tiny, ancient synagogue at the head of the Longfellow Avenue that I was looking to go see about a room rental on, is the sole reason that I figure that “Jewish ‘magic'” was involved in that whole French Connection and Longfellow Avenue life I’d gone through, that they were under there when that photo was taken, making it for the magic-ritual use of the system, that usual photo that I use as the illustration for all that with the fraud-business and “LSD”/brain-serum narcotic industry problem that’s taking us to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. It was a mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood, and the whole Caribbean then comes under that Henry Morgan subject, is a different sub-set of the generational-slave/Merchant of Venice -type subject, but I didn’t notice anything about voodoo or see any Semites and yet just have the feeling that the whole thing was engineered by the “Man In Oriental Costume” -type and their space program didn’t work out and we’re just left with this disaster that’s all lied and covered-up about.
8/10, I got the thought last night that Ginsberg might’ve come through the line of Bernhard von Gudden, 1824-1886 and had been a “neuroscientist/psychiatrist” likely brain-eating became “neuroscience,” at the same asylum that heinrich schule had worked at.
8/11, I tried to get a picture of the early psychiatrist, “Alienist” they were called then it seems, Heinrich Schule, 1840-1916, but haven’t been able to figure how to do that yet, with this Press This-widget that they have that I’d gotten easily once before but can’t work now. When I had it before I couldn’t “capture” a picture off of the web anyway but now I can’t get the widget even for just right here and now. It seems there’s only one picture of Schule and I’m trying to compare it to Allen Ginsberg et al.
Milt Machlin, just died not too long ago, wrote a book with the author of “The French Connection,” 1969 book the photo I use was found in, Robin Moore, who’d passed in 2005, but his name was originally something else, him from around Boston I think and passed down around Fort Campbell, Kentucky where the Green Berets are. Machlin, from the one photo I’d noticed, also seemed to have been one of these Ginsberg types but also I have to pause and try to go look up the author Ira Levin of the Stepford Wives, Boys From Brazil all off of Hitler’s genes, ejaculate, mass-reproduced “story,” and then this Rosemary’s Baby problem that the “Armageddon Program” has now got creeping all around me manipulating my days from this morning-horror inferno-shelter machinizing the “Program” goes by, arranged for all these years I’ve been stranded here, that that “Health Campus” and penal-area was a big Psychopath “Ward” or clinic or 2-building hospital there for a long time, Gallinger Psychopath -ward I think they’d mostly called it. How could a town this small have such a big requirement for that is about how this town was long-ago set up for by this global-system from under Siber-Mongolia, etc. I think Ira Levin hadn’t passed too long ago also, and I still haven’t gotten to Ginsberg’s co-authoring that “My Brother and Me” story that became a film about Ginsberg’s partner Peter Orlovsky’s brother Julius. He also had a brother Lafcadio, and Lafcadio is/was a twin with a sister. I suspect that I might really be surrounded with “grown-people” from all those Orlovsky-genes that Ginsberg was working with. Ginsberg and those other writers might have come from Heinrich Schule and somehow that peculiar Bernhard von Gudden neuro-psychiatrist Neanderthal-type might have been all in that mix. Von Gudden and that “Mad” Emperor Ludwig II had died together at Lake Starnberg, Prince’s Lake, somewhere just south of Munich I think that is but I have no idea what the communications between Munich and Zurich where also so much of this looks like it was set up from could be like, what the roads or seaways or what they could have kept up communications by would have been like, for how there could be connections between von Gudden, born 1824-1886 and Schule, 1840-1916, I just suspect that there might have been because von Gudden had worked at Illnau asylum where Schule did most of his work, but I’d thought the Baden area was in the west of Germany and just saw yesterday that it’s somehow down there right around Zurich, where alot of this comes from, the set up. This pdf here on Nicholas II is for some other purpose and only here because he and Siam’s Chulalongkorn both look to have come from Peter Paul Rubens, the big operator for how we got to all this today, more or less I figure.
I have alot of work to do on this file but I somehow have copy/moved it to the top of the blogposts because it seems the most immediate difficulty for me and then about this TPE situation. It isn’t really describable. If I had 2 or 3 years to quietly go about my business I could possibly explain most of everything to most humans’ satisfaction for how to get out of this but “the Program” of how the sneak-Armageddon is getting done is tearing me apart. I have 12 minutes left to the first 70-minute of the 2 computer-times I get in a day and you’d think there’d be more to life than this, especially since it’s all “Poof!” -world level, that these computer-things can be swept right out from under everybody by those selfish Autists. I can’t say whether these “Program directors” are or aren’t “the Autists” anymore. That’s one of the points in that novel by Ms. Welaufer/Welch, Suzanne Wetlaufer/Suzy Welch, that I keep trying to stress, that in that gory ending the protagonist had like merged herself onto the “poor boy” where this Autism is “invisible” and unfathomable. I finally managed to see a little bit on the search-engine about that book/film on Julius Orlovsky and it does seem like that that was likely the inspiration for then that “Rain Man” film about Autism. What can I explain without knowledge of the details of that threesome-fivesome of Ginsberg and the Orlovsky family and then there’s some director named Robert Frank, and I saw a book cover from him about this same, “Me and My Brother” story and I should try to get a picture of that for here. I assume-think that that’s a picture of Julius/Julian Orlovsky, I just don’t know that much about that situation and am so disorganized that I don’t know if his name is Julius or Julian really, but I’m disorganized because I have this “God”-Allen Ginsberg Merchant of Venice-like Armageddon “Program” always like jumping up and down on my head, virtually. I have to find out what year they’d started on that project, but, the emergency-point is also that I suspect the “Program” has had these “Sea Monkey” -style people grown from the disembodied ovaries of women or girls’ being fertilized underground with “water” from Julian/Julius, has had “shelter girls” made/grown like that into being people all around, that live off of doing this underworld Armageddon sabotage to me all over me, shelter girls manufactured from that guy are planted in this inferno-shelter’s toilet to cause problems for me most mornings and it’s been every morning for over a week lately and obviously “rigged” on purpose to be doing this by keeping one of the stalls out of order, ridiculous circus I’ve been being put through every morning so that then I sit down at computer and ramble like a moron like this about toilet and garbage instead of any human adult-level business ever getting done, while this system rampages over the real world in this same pattern and off of this “Program,” and today is real bad for worrying what this looks like for this coming winter. So I’ll try to get a copy of that one photo of the boy, now a guy older than me. I’d had one or 2 photo-pictures of him but they’d been real hard to find through library books and then I feel like you can trust information on the internet even less than in the books so you have to have more than just one or 2 examples to go by.
ck also David Linden, A Sense of Touch recent book.
8/19/17, real quick I want to mention that I’d just thought of the word “consortium” for a description of all these different kinds of the underworld-type “bums” that live off of all this nonstop-torture “Program” to myself and that word reminded me that I’d once worked for a place with that word in its title, like, Mission Home Health Care Partners Consortium or some such, on S. Van Ness Avenue and then they’d moved to a slightly different address, in San Francisco, and the girl that was my supervisor there looked like a girl I’d known in high school who said she went with one of these “Allen Ginsberg” -looking guys, whose name was said to be Howie. I think that might be a little odd of a coincidence, and I think I’d mentioned that to the girl in San Francisco and she’d said she wasn’t from New York or to that effect and I’d forgotten about it but now it does come up because this Allen Ginsberg-type perhaps “lives on my head” alot doing this Armageddon-making nonstop invisible torture difficulty off of myself, and he and that girl were a little odd in that the girl had paid for a ticket for me to go to the Fillmore East and I think we’d seen Johnny Winter/s, Albert King and maybe the J. Geils Band. What was their big song; I’ll try to look it up. Then I don’t recall how we’d gotten back up to the Bronx and I think that maybe that’s because I’d turned around and she was gone and I’d somehow found my way back up there alone, which might be odd in view of how much trouble I’ve since had and am having and that the only time I recall seeing Howie offhand was him standing right in front of the school at the top of the steps, which was Evander Childs High School and Evander Childs was some big educator there in the Bronx I’ve since learned, and it was the same school the fraud-parent had graduated from the 20 or so years earlier. Howie was a little peculiar according to Jan, the girl who’d taken me to the concert for free. Then I’ll also be trying to look up more about the writer Ira Levin, from somewhere in the Bronx and writing all those scary stories that I can see how seem to be fictionalized telling about the underworld, and me with this big “Rosemary’s Baby” type of a problem now, as not too long after that concert I’d wound up having to have an abortion and maybe there was some big ovae- or ovary-removal that I don’t know anything about but there are lots and lots of these “my type” of people around that might have come from not too long after Jan’s free concert-trip for me.
I think that Mr. Barry Neil Kaufman was/is this “Merchant of Venice/generational-slave #2” -type, and I love the little image. I just looked it up and the boy, Raun, has a book I’ll likely try to go find in a nearby library tomorrow. I saw a slightly better book cover but this is the library copy picture I’d been using for awhile to try to express that the Autism developmental disability had come from errant “chasing after” to try to reach/touch the sun, and they’d gotten snowbound and freeze-burns to babies heads I think is how it’d happened, gotta go paste this thing around now that I’m learning to do that.
8/21- I went out to a library listed as having the book and everything was terrible, just like it is now also, with this Armageddon-feces all over poor little me alone with all this being sneaked-through off of me like this. I’m trying to say that the brain-damage was/is invisible and it’s all just small errors and miscalculations in the child-age of our species, forget about it and move along but the system lives off of demolishing me. Before I can sit down to try to work on this blogsite so much c*** happens or micro-happens to me and the system just invents problems off of the invented problems sneak-caused by itself onto me, and seems largely engineered through these “Merchant” types, etc. The main real-life thing is every day to try to find a responsibly-behaving adult anywhere, every single day I go through this same “cartoon-like” trying to figure what I can do to get myself out of this horror that’s all over me and this demolishes any adult-level work I could be doing right now. All the time I’m trying to duck so I don’t see these “fraud-parent” -orc faces all sent out to “not do anything” bother me, like right now. If I’m nervous it gives the phony sound-system and thence the larger system phony excuses for making underground-trouble over nothing, plus it’s wasting my morning, so, — how do I get myself out of this, every day the same thing, that I can only do it by contacting — trick right now again on top of all the others that’ve gone into replacing reality with this substituted verbiage like this now, on my limited time.
from the Testosterone book, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Welch, her being the author of the 1992 novel, “Judgment Call,” under her then-name of Suzanne Wetlaufer. I’m always trying to get anyone to look into this, according to me, all allegorical book about the system’s “generational-slave #2” -type, that I picture as coming from the guy portrayed in the Rembrandt-like “Man In Oriental Costume” here in the National Gallery of Art since about 1934, (gallery 48,) like pictured at the top of this file:
James A. Bailey of the Barnum & Bailey circus team was also from this type’s type as being important to all this Armageddon Plan’s being worked off off of me, that Mr. Bailey must have spent quite a bit of time in the Bronx, had passed from his home just north of there, commuting to the Madison Square Garden and probably had alot of dealings with the Bronx Zoo, (passed 1906.) He’d also lived at 150th Street and St. Nicholas Place, upper Harlem just across from the Bronx more or less. My new thought about this “type” or race or breed or line or what lingo doesn’t offend anyone in the world, is that I’d found fiction-type evidence that they too have the Autists’ brain damage enough that it’s notable, as we’ve all inherited it to various degree. In the “Judgment Call” book that I think is allegorical for the whole type of people’s system-experience, the saddest part is that the ethereal blonde type character gets fatally shot in the gruesome denouement scene and she passes, an angel-type female, sad that allegorically she had to go, which would represent the loss of the entire type for our species and that’s why I keep saying that we’re going to TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION as the Autists had cliff-pushed all the best types of people millennia ago, periodically rampaging Europe and where else, but especially those French cliffs. I’d had nothing to do in all this turmoil today but try to think for clues as to all this Armageddon and somehow had thought of that book and that the “best” character had had to be sacrificed, the spirit-able type of people, the type who could lift up to fill the universe, keep God company and delight. Years ago I’d heard some cynical jokes that heaven sure must be boring as all they do is sit around and play harps, but the reality is that the spirit world was in a continuous-emergency state by the Autists’ psychopathy, back with cracking those dinosaur eggs to the extinction of the dinosaurs, spirits had to stick close to the earth and try to prevent these terrors, and it’s been the losing battle. Then I’d recalled the odd scene about that when that character had gotten married the protagonist had gone through the big trauma that it was her fault that the psychopathic boy had murdered her neighbors, (that she wouldn’t tell “the” police about, represented by that “Teddie” character that I suspect is connected then to this Vajiravudh-“fraud-parent” difficulty all over my life, ) that she’d gone and slept on the couch of the newlyweds small apartment, not for just a few days but for 2 or 3 weeks I think the novel had said, but I only had about 3 6-hour chances to read the whole thing in and then the book was gone, (because I couldn’t get to that branch library where it was because winter of winter,) and that isn’t alot to make quick judgments on, but now that was almost 4 years ago and I’m still mulling on what I can recall for clues toward all this horror, and I realize that sleeping on the newlyweds couch and the girl’s just happening to die are signs of the protagonist’s brain damage like I’m talking about, and also sleeping on their couch for so long is a sign of Autism-selfishness, lack of consideration. It was all very casually put, that the girl was very casual about the friend’s staying there, but after reflection I realize that that’s all wrong behavior, it shows that the protagonist, in her relations with her friend altogether, all their interactions through the story, there is that brain damage there, like our society today where “everything is broken” but no one can see or pinpoint that anything’s specifically wrong, I’m reflecting back and to my recollection of the quick-scanning of the complex-type story, that sleeping on their couch was ill. The story explains it all from the protagonist’s, Sherry’s, point of view of all the trauma she’d gone through, and that’s what had had me spending about 2 months trying to figure why she hadn’t simply told the cop about the boy’s having been a visitor and had probably done the murder, then I realized that the cop hadn’t told her, as her being a reporter, that over a dozen murders had recently occurred where the modus operandi was to shoot the victim through the left side of the throat, a jugular vein I guess. From pondering that book is how I’d gotten “evidence” that people are turned to petroleum, by the protagonist’s mentioning how one of the victims had been left dead in a trailer and had started turning into a pile of goo, black goo.
Mind-reading error/goes with the twisted difficulty — this moved to 2 different places, the Category for Autism brain damage and the Merchant of Venice became the You Were Wrong post/ — trying to move all this to the new posts, into the You Were Wrong Peter Paul Rubens file and area, this that Ghent Altarpiece upper-level panel-set. — Mind-reading error.pdf, the lady on the left’s “word-ribbon” or -banner is slightly twisted while the ribbon/banner on the right side on that top row’s isn’t twisted but is relatively straight like those “prophet” -guys’ are. Then it seems that they were like archetypes for this modern-day horror that I’m the bottom of, so that I’ve been trying to pin down where all this world “magic” all over the synchronicity-place come from and I ran across this Ghent Altarpiece full of clues and it seems I get accused say of jealousy toward the “madonna-type” with the non-twisted hallucinogenic-seen thought-words coming from herself, so I’m trying to explain that the world had had these psychopath-problems before the “prophets” got on the scene and that their conclusion that the twisted-banners mean disingenuity, mean lying or deceit, is incorrect and that it only means that the subject is/was complicated for the pre-literate planet Earth’s people to be able to describe the generations after generations of having this psychopathic people run through the different areas like locusts. The “twistedness” wasn’t/isn’t lying but that the whole situation is difficult for a lone person to be able to describe the whole picture, that these are a baby-killing smiling little people who you can’t prove they’ve killed the babies sadistically and many other crimes as the generations go by, it’s just this worry in our heads of these things we hadn’t personally witnessed but are afraid deep down about without being able to put into words personally yet. And I seem to have inherited this entire mess. I always feel like saying, More later, because I don’t have but ten or so minutes at a time and I’m real busy trying to get library work in before the snow gets me trapped away from the materials, but they’ve skewed language so much that many words, like “more,” seem off-limits or misinterpreted. kfoshay
20 May 2017- this is Rubens is more important than I know or could explain in that there was a whole big group of them back then, early successful mass-reproductions it seems evident, and Rubens’d traveled alot like from Flanders/the Netherlands to England to Spain and to Italy at some point but it was the back and forth between England and Spain that might have had the most to do with this “Armageddon” business, where those 1492 Line of Demarcation people, the thieves of the Vatican and then claimers of the New World that they sent “Columbus” out to claim after having learned about it I’d guess, those of the brain-damaged Autists who’d dug in under Siber-Mongolia and then invaded Europe from the north down to Rome I figure, they divvied-up the New World and that includes here, and Rubens’ contemporary Captain John Smith had discovered here and gotten this all built-up but all that happened within whatever Rubens was doing going between his type as Charles I of England and the Spanish Philip or whoever same thing, — which I figure they were all slaves doing that taking-over as being slaves and not because they wanted to but because they were all held prisoner and so made a deal to get the world taken-over for the Autists and their Neanderthal buddies if they would just sit and wait while the slaves ran around getting the world taken over for themselves, and that’s what I figure is still this that’s going on, that from the Line of Demarcation to now the ones sitting and waiting under Siber-Mongolia feel that their claims over this territory are the real deal and the rest of us are just trespassing or dying-off from the original inhabitants that happened to be in the newly-discovered lands.
5/26, Now I’ve got Alexander Graham Bell as being a big Rubens-like operative in setting up all this, for the Autists and their Armageddon getting back at “the others.” It’s so bad I can barely think.
6/27, I’ve been being Armageddon Program thrashed and bashed unprovably so badly today today that I reflected on why Bell’s type would so unremittingly want to do/want this done to innocuous little me and, in recollection, I noticed that the photo with Mrs. Bell and the 13th St. One are 2 different people, the earlier one more like (Goliath and) the then-Emperor of Brazil, Don Pedro, so that i’d check their biographies to see if Bell might not have stayed when he’d exhibited his phone there.
The name “Brazil” is big in that 1992 novel, “Judgment Call” that I say is allegorical for this type (or even “race”) of people’s experiences/situation:
Navigating the cellphone screen is difficult: trying g to add a closing sentence under the portrait but it’s difficult. Don’t know how to get the keyboard out of the way to see the post-file.
Try down here. It won’t place pictures inside. Only bottom so far. Send now anyway.
6/28/17, Wednesday, luckily can insert a return here and try to continue that with this new Brazil-subject it comes up sort of indirectly that if you do that “Strong’s Concordance” much you come up with that the Hebrew word for iron is the same as the name Brazil, is p-r-z-l, parzil or some such for iron, like in the book of Daniel that word comes up alot, but I’ve never had any connection to the country of Brazil until this with Bell and Don Pedro’s looking so much alike that they’re obviously of the same race or group or type until now I’m thinking that Bell might have identity-undertaken or some such and then gotten a substitute to cover his life with the move to Washington. The system people seem to do this like it’s nothing, do it all the time and yet you sound “crazy” if you try to describe it, so this guess with Don Pedro would be a good example on how far a person gets with such a guess toward what actually had occurred, where on the surface it isn’t anything, Bell had merely gone there for some exhibition and contest for some prize or some such, and I only got a small look at a search-engine response to my request for images of Brazil’s Emperor Don Pedro back about 3 weeks ago when I’d first read about Bell’s trip to there in that juvenile book that I got that peculiar Eureka-diagram about that day of the first transmission, Mary 1876 I think it’s dated. To me this is “exciting” for a nerd because it brings up that p-r-z-l reminds me of that medieval so-called knight or knight errant Percival of Percival and the Fisher King and that entire Holy Grail business and down into the King Arthur entire business or historical goings-on that’d led to today and what I’m trying to really get assistance in not having happen TOTAL PLANET-EARTH EXTINCTION merely over unrecognized congenital childhood-Autism, the “a” generally capitalized by me because Autism means (selfish/self-ism) repetition that cannot help itself out of the repeating, they repeat and repeat and haven’t organic control over the repeating repetition patterns, and Percival had that Autism classically, so this with Don Pedro and AG Bell seems to lead back to that duo in the Ghent Altarpiece of the big bearded guy that I’m saying was all misled by the innocent-seeming little Percival-like Pilgrim boy in the crowd then being led astray by the misled big guy, who was probably of a captive people to the Pilgrim type’s people in the first place, didn’t have much choice in the going along with being misled, then I’d taken that picture above here yesterday and there on the right side you could say that that seems like a symbolization of a monster bearing down on the big type, so that following the boy’s misleading was better than the rest of the boy’s people’s otherwise bearing down on to eat you and your people, but of course that image is just a coincidence, and the rusty light pole is really an unsightly place, not made of marble in reality. Percival was all delusional like that in fact is the reason it’s nice to have this subject come up, but I’d have to try to look into what was going on in Brazil, which subject hasn’t been raised yet in these library researches I’ve been doing, barely know if Sao Paolo is its capital, if that means St. Paul. Portuguese country it was, like with that Line of Demarcation, and I’d guess they’ve been busy ever since then and you could say that they are more or less “Colombia/Columbia” for the narcotics purpose situational set that I’ve got. Little Percival had Autism and liked to stay high and for he and his friends to be able to relieve themselves as far as lack of willing females went, to relieve each other. On the way here then there was one of these all-the-time little unspeaking hallucino-silent screen vignettes that the system always seems to parade-do as I try to function getting from one chore to another, that instead of just walking I have to look at all these different unprovable hallucino-world street theaters and today just before here there was one of those “fraud-family” types, a stereotype like a big version that walked in my direction a bit and then turned off and then I saw a thin young guy type so I could figure the hallucino-system was symbolize acting-out that the duo might be like the Fisher King and Percival, that the Fisher King was one of those types and otherwise I was thinking he was of a normal-person type, along the lines of a big Alexander von Humboldt type maybe for the description of what I figure/call the generational-slave #1 type, as though the type down from Priam of the Trojan War, having pictured that the Fisher King was that type but this “fraud-family” type is more like the Agamemnon or big “Lenny” type, became the Lenny type more or less, me figuring that “Agamemnon” translates more to like I got no memory= I don’t remember, as in, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter, I don’t know, Angie, what do you want to do? I don’t really recall if that’s Angie or Augie, and I know that’s unclear, that even how I go from Don Pedro to Brazil = Percival and the whole Holy Grail story would seem unclear, but I’m pretty sure of the connection, that the system had largely parked in Brazil and worked up and out from its underground with keeping the Percival’s happy because it’s better than being back under Asia with Percival’s relatives, — but then what if the “Don Pedro/Bell/St. Christopher” big bearded guy type had left family down under Asia, Siber-Mongolia with all Percival’s relatives waiting for the return of the let-go-to-do- that-chore captive, chore of going to go out and claim the world for the home-base instead of the home-base’s doing all the work themselves, is the possibility I’m always working with more or less, like why would anyone think it necessary for their brain to work as a disembodied communication-device unless they were in big trouble in a larger-group way, to have to try to communicate with each other, stay in touch, how would that be possible, etc., is where computers likely’d come from, as with tv and radio waves, that they were discover-invented by people trying to search and signal for help originally, people locked up and trying to figure how to get out of it.
I’m trying to say that little Percival had this “hole in the head” that our Sylvian fissure is the scar-evidence left from, that had caused him to be delusional, and off for the Holy Grail everyone went, and we have to take accumulated research and step back and assess and re-assess this direction that that hole-in-the-head brain damaged little “high” and “relieved” boy had led everyone into, and that in the meantime they’re, in a large way, living off of this lifetime of the sneak-trick tortures to me, feeding off of this Armageddon Program for instance, but it’s unprovable unless there was a retrospect and it would take no effort to do anything but to not-do something, to not-torture and let me do some library research and type my findings, etc., and all the begging in the world can’t affect the Autism because the Autism is a real medical/organic, an actual, problem, that the Autists aren’t able to affect from within the problem, the assistance would have to come from someone that doesn’t have the Autism and then the Autists’-system intercepts anyone that tries to assist me, round and round, is why I’d like to use that A. Halsey brain “illustration,” it would be post #274 but I didn’t put a number on it yet because I’m not sure Ms. Halsey would okay use of it, illustration and I found a similar little one but can’t find it right now, for an illustration of that left-side of the brain old “hole” that healed into that Sylvian fissure, to what I can’t make of all this (horror that I’m in at least.) I’ll probably be able to find it for tomorrow, I’m trying to scan alot of papers onto here for “temporary is-to-rage,” me being afraid to use the word for storing things, that the system really does try to “rage” about anything that I do, because it pleases that little Percival type. I figure that my “type” is much like the Percival’s mother character, some unfortunate girl who’d gotten pregnant by an Autist invader and little Percival was raised by the poor frazzled lady the best she could do and the little ingrate took off, and then that that mother-son combo is much like Constantine, Constant eatin’, and his mother Saint Helen, who might have been cross-eyed or had astigmatism or been frazzled so much by trying to raise that strange boy type that she could barely focus.
— Bell’s father is famous for inventing the VISIBLE SPEECH system and I just realized that that’s because it had led to the binary numbers system, 1011000010 etc., and thence to these computers, is where they’d come from.
I can only try to do a quick explanation here, trying to add a copy of the Ghent Altarpiece polytych because I think that’s “Dracula’s” male-parent down in the front of the main, the “Adoration of the Lamb,” picture, but I can hardly get anything done for this blogsite-attempt, and like I’d just jotted into the Summary file, this library branch had just called the police on me because I’m how it;s wound up that that crappy-ill book of the Revelations is getting pulled off and the system can’t let me get any normal-world assistance so today now they resorted to that cheap trick as my chances of survival are diminishing as the rain and snow-time approach, I’ve been through so many yeaers of this homelessness here and can’t bear the– I typed this all in the summary, but this is why I can’t do any serious or adult-level work as I’m trying to get out of this Catholic Charities shelter and the system won’t let me do anything but be an anonymous-to-non-existant victim they’re planning to disappear, preventing me from trying to get any restitution from that guy’s car-hitting me and then the five months of being virtually a prisoner to this past four months still stuck with only these few homeless people’s trap-places all around me and no normal contact with anyone, and I’m trying to explain that this comes from enslaving those people who’d become the “Jesus” and then had to be the Dracula types too and that mess left in Romania had decomposed into petroleum fields and finding ways to cover-up that had led to learning to use it for setting fires and the slaves got in contained into lamps and car/plane gasoline but it became rocket fuel and there’s nothing out there for mortals but the system insists on this world-ownership so the failed space-beliefs have been covered over and they’re still doing this totally unnatural world-takeover and doing it off of little uninvolved me mind you, with this slave-Jesus and slave-Dracula and generational-slavery on and on still all carrying out the captors’ wishes. I haven’t had any human-level contact with anyone in I couldn’t tell you how long because now I realize I’ve been surrounded by this fraud-family and today it’s seeming like one of them might have been a Huxley-“seed” put into that family as an uncle, also, but there’s alot more than just that that I’m finding out and tomorrow I’ll try to get to that “sound barrier” business.
#138, Vlad Dracula Tepes to the bottom of the Merchant of Venice file, pdf
#192, went to the MENU Category- Oil, / Atmageddon-making Show Drake.pdf, (it came out sideways.) I’m sorry this didn’t come out. I got a (15 cents) black and white copy for myself but it looks good in color and I’ll have to try to get the machine not to do that because it’s over the 8-1/2 x 11″ a little. I’m starting to put this together a little better and realizing that those David Psalms were the main Autist type’s praising the prisoner-slave “God” person.
#222, = Richard Wilmer Rowan, 1931, The Pinkertons, A Detective Dynasty, Little, Brown & Co., Boston,; list of Allan Pinkerton book titles: Thirty Years a Detective, The Molly Maguires and the Detectives, The Mississippi Outlaws and the Detectives, etc., 18 titles, being reissued in a matching set when he passed. Maybe there was an 1871 fire that’d ruined his files and Rowan says that for events before that date he might have just made-up details like names and exact dates. Says he’d grown wealthy and then his prolificness might have been what inspired his sons to hardly say anything about the business. Was planning a third tour to/of Glasgow when he had a stroke, dying July 1, 1884, buried in Chicago’s Graceland Cemetary. Half a million dollar estate, compared to the 25-cent piece he’d started with. //Claude G. Bowers calls/-ed it the tragic era, of brazen politics and reconstruction, honest men in public office could hardly be found. Business geniuses Drew, Gould, Jim Fisk and other unscrupulous founders of fortunes, the country seemed overrun with crookedness; the Pinkertons desperately feared by thieves of the underworld — so it’s nice that he hadn’t died a millionaire, and then about the widow, who survived him by 2 years, …
Ponce de Leon is a whole new subject and seems specifically interconnected with everything, the French Connection business winding up in the Bronx Puerto Rican neighborhood I was growing up in and him having been governor of Puerto Rico before he went looking for that “Fountain of Youth” and I suspect that that really translates to his looking for a nice place to make plantations for “growing” people from disembodied ovaries, and there are a few more new connections even to do with the Florence Sabin project, that that’s leading back to the area near Leon. Then she’s even connected to this coincidentally down below:
(This is connected to how a “Merchant” stole ovaries and made the products into like an “All the world’s a stage” acting troupe that I’m now stranded in as at the bottom of the system’s LURE that’s going to wind up in TOTAL PLANET EXTINCTION. I’ll be trying to describe it in the Queen Victoria page under the Stereotypes section.)
Eliezer and Rebecca at the Well, 1648, by Poussin. I think that that’s like an ancestor of mine right above *l* there,
that it looks like he’s offering some “role-part” to the lady on the right and this girl kneeling with the water on the left is saying, Ooh let me, I’ll do that, volunteering for whatever it was/is while the other girl got selected, and that that comes down to this “jealousy” theme and accusation that’s the “Armageddon Program’s” main gimmick, is the cover-story for all this invisible torture onto myself, jealousy that the other girl got the good role-part, but I’m trying to explain that the whole group is likely “grown” from disembodied ovary/-ies stolen from our common ancestor, likely by this mythical-seeming “Joseph Nasi” historical character, 1520-1575 or so, and that that’s also likely connected to the Trojan “war” business, which is all “gimmick.” After all these years I’m finally having to use this vulgar descriptive phrase for this whole system, that it’s all “lies and doo-doo” that I’ve been avoiding that phrase all these years because it’s terrible to have to type the phrase, you can get by with saying that in a comment or in a diary-jot to yourself or hand-written letter to a friend but to say it to a stranger and in typing really sounds bad but it’s all that the system comes down to being, just fabricated lies and doo-doo basis of everything, the Autists could not leave excrement alone, they smeared it everywhere till the Old World people couldn’t stand to have them around anymore and the food was running low and then the Autists and their “Neanderthal” friends I think “discovered” this other kind of people like that guy in the white turban there on Japan or just one of its islands and in those primitive-type communications the Autists fabricated all kinds of stories about supposed wrongs the Old World invasion-victims had allegedly done to their kind, and got the “hicks” from the Japanese seclusion-development to go to war with themselves and their other friends to against the mainland peoples and then this ovary-thieving to “grow” people got developed and I think my ancestor might have been that kneeling girl as they have me with this “Armageddon Show/Program” that has nothing to do with me or reality all around me all these years; etc., I have to sign off now, 10/26/17.