I found this on the search-engine under Abe’s Books, an advertisement for Rene (Dubos’) book about Oswald Avery and their work there, “The Professor, the Institute, and DNA.” I suspect that there might be millions of people made from the work of Rene and Dr. Babers. I also think I might “come from” Dr. Avery or one of his “offspring-descendants” like maybe even Lee “Harvey” Oswald might have been one of his and then Oswald was in the Bronx about a year and a half before I was born, and then for not any apparent reason the fraud-parents had traipsed down to Manhattan to have me birthed right next door to where this picture had been taken, in 1932. I read once where Rene had written that his eyes were turquoise-colored. His first wife had passed from tuberculosis and I think he’d met her through a place for single French women to stay when they came to live here, a regular flow of ladies through a shelter to stay in sort of a connection he was likely to have had in New York all those years, very active guy, lots of real estate dealing up in Westchester and things difficult to learn about, connections. That’s a basin on the table on the left. Now compare some “Babar boys” with Dr. Babers, at the bottom here:
(2015 flyer — this I’m going to try to take a photo of and send that.– This came out terribly but I generally have to settle for whatever I’m lucky enough to be able to get at all. They only put 3 or 4 of the papers I’d distributed into my chart, not the 24-page one with Joe Fuca on the first page like they’d said they had, but someone did bother to make a reduced-size copy of this page and put it on hospital letterhead and punch holes to get it into the chart. It says, My name is Kathy Foshay. If anyone was allowed to help me write letters it could rescue the Universe from the unnecessary TOTAL PLANETARY EXTINCTION the “top secret” system is actually bringing us to, but it keeps me like a ghost-prisoner in a communication vacuum, lieftime-used as a people-disappearance LURE-gimmick, so please be careful not to be conned. No one will listen to my evidence that the 1962 real-life “French Connection” was a ritual to hode see-through “LSD” behind the white powder, which I suspect came from nuclearly pulverizing* normal men and now anybody. The system claims I have schizophrenia, but that’s really about the ax-murdering brain-chemical addicts everyone’s afraid of. I think I could explain to this girl -> because her frame-up has alot of parallels that could get her started to following all this and then she has the inner-energy to help translate and do the letter-writing, but the system-addicts, sic, squash all my communication attempts, do the Revelation’s Armageddon-making this way. Gus the prisoner and those guys come from the system’s #3 generational-slave type. 10%+ of future-profit if you get me a helper.
* The “pulverizing” I think had started with fabric washing and dyeing, figuring a way to extract water, like became the spin cycle of washing machines, extractadores/extractor-a centrifuge for spinning wet laundry so as to remove excess water, but that became turning bones to rubble for say Portland cement-type uses when all those dinosaur bones tons and tons were found out west. At first they were shipped to colleges and museums in the east, especially by George Peabody to my recollection of looking into this a bit, but I think there were too many tons of the bones and it became obvious that there was some disconnect somewhere, some guilt as to how all those animals had gone extinct, and the centrifuges were worked to grind the bone to powder that became used for cement for big projects like maybe the Erie Canal building and then on, hiding the evidence that something was wrong with there’s being that many dead skeletons but then I think that the method became used on in disappearing human other males, sticking “heroes” into the centrifuges, and that became used for inventing “hero-in” which gave the Autists, like Lenny Bruce who’d allegedly died of an overdose of that in 1966, a warm feeling, and I think that the enjoyment of that heroin was from the having killed normal men and being hiding the evidence of that by using the heroin, is why I included that about the pulverized powder, that I think the “French Connection” was largely a ritual for covering up the see-through brain serum with the conspicuous white powder called heroin so they could continue with their business “in-does-try” of selling brain serum even though people had begun to catch onto that the “LSD” did not really come from the mold called ergot and were becoming suspicious about LSD’s real source.) At the bottom here:
How much does Dr. Babers look like what I call the “Babar-boys” I’m trying to figure. In 1918 Rockefeller Jr., by then in his 40s or maybe I have the date wrong, had for the first time asked his parent for money/a load, for 2 million dollars for starting a collection of Chinese porcelain dolls, and I haven’t had a chance to look into that collection yet but suspect it was connected to the secret-underworld growing of people. They’d invested about $50 million in making Peking nice by that time, and that isn’t far from where I figure the system is based, think it’s way back north behind there and operating there like a doll house puppet place all these global-system growing years. But my personal situation is so bad that a girl that I suspect comes from Mrs. Fuca who’d come from Rene sprang a “standard-type trick” on myself that then I’m stranded always alone with that this secret system is really taking down eternity, that eternity will be left with all the loss of biology and everything for nothing, like these cheap tricks done to me merely based on that I’m always alone and with all these “Consortium” of parasite-types’ all sneak-doing the (Revelation) Armageddon off of using me like a game-pawn. Everything about this is so disgusting, like there’s always something creepy going on out here that distracts from being able to get to anything except this complaint-type jotting in place of productive adult-level anything. On the subject of the Babar-boys I’ve had this note to myself to get one of these tricks mentioned, that I think it was in 2014, for the December phony-holiday set or season-greeting whatnot “horrorday,” the fraud-parent had sent me a money order for $100 like the usual I guess it was, that it had been going on since I got here in 2005 that they’d been sending that and the same for my annual birthday and then 3 extra helps of $50 to where it came to about $350 a year had been going on, is how the Armageddon-making off of me had been supported really, but there wasn’t any way I could make any “fund” of anything until after I’d just turned 62. I was so bereft that there weren’t ever any bus rides possible and I hadn’t any idea people had these camera-cellphones but I was alive and in that library that’s since been closed down, etc. When I got the money order in 2014 I was so bad off from this “Armageddon Show” anymore that I really didn’t even like to have to be dependent on the helps like that and had long been trying to “exorcise” the envelope-contents before reading the note and seeing the money order and taking it to usually a post office but my identification card had expired back in 2010 and nobody ever told me they have vouchers for getting the $20 fee waived and things went on terribly so I was sitting outside alone in the January cold and I guess I’d opened the envelope and was “sunshining” and waving the money order around to try to cleanse it or what and whenever these envelopes arrived there’d be all this “invisible” horror that these “offspring-descendants” or what of that fraud-parent would all be around more than usual out here and then they seem to underworld specialize in doing “shadow world” tricks too, so that me sitting alone trying to open the envelope on a freezing day it was like a crowd of them had “invisibly” gathered around me and the piece of paper, the money order slip, blew out of my hand from some big gust of wind but somehow miracle-like got caught by then one of the “Babar” types that had like shadow-world reached and caught the paper and knocked it out of the wind whirl and back toward me where I caught it back. That had seemed nice but now I realize that I’d then never been able to cash that money order because the underground watchers must have decreed that it was wrongful to interfere to get the paper back to me where it clearly was about to blow to way down the block and away without that interference and so even though I had the money order the underworld must have declared that it was REALLY null and void and I wasn’t ever able to get anyone to cash it for me in any way. I mailed it back then finally only not too long before the car-hit, having gotten real ill from the medical-tricks and been hospitalized for some bizarre 25 pounds of waterweight that’d led to a horrifying extension there and then being bounced around till that place in Kensington/Maryland. Now I’ll segue on the subject of medical tricks to mention that some other set of Babars now must have decreed that the way I’d left some meat unrefrigerated an overnight and a day meant that it wasn’t good anymore and I got made sick for 3 days and even today they pinched my stomach or spasmed it or whatnot still over that where in reality there wasn’t anything wrong with the meat, they just only know about their underworld-teachings and those are all for the Autist-system, not for us “others.” According to the systems rules meat has to be refrigerated or it goes bad, but I’ve always had what I call a cast-iron stomach and there wasn’t anything wrong with some little bit of some opened tin of meat I’d had, but they’ve been doing this “show” around that my intestines were all messed up but that’s the “magic” interference and not real life, they do all kinds of medical tricks like that onto everybody’s life. Again it’s the dichotomy where the medical field is to sneak-fix the Autism for the Autists, to help them with the whole umbrella-field of the symptoms that come from the original injuries of way back, where probably all or nearly all of the medical problems people have ever had come from the mixing with the then invaders from the New World with all that Autism. For the dichotomy though the Autists love to get their hands onto other people, so the medical field works both ways for them similar to how the copyright situation does, they keep their business private while still getting whatever they want from your business, win-win, win-win for them all the time because these “Jomon” champion for them, and I’m trying to get across to quit doing that through and off of me at least, for a starter in trying to get the planet salvaged out of all this sadism-horror.
The mail bad news I’d had just before the stomach cramping scam had started and I didn’t get back to trying to describe that yet I don’t think is that my health insurance was again changed to that Trusted Health that I’d had when I’d gotten hit by the car. Then I want to somewhere get mentioned that with this “world-saving” scam the system’s been pulling for decades behind my back they marathon-finally get around to scamming these Vote! tricks, like maybe that I be released from this torture so I could then try to go uh do that, but the scam is that the Autism is never going to agree to any such thing so you are voting in vain plus the system then knows who the “weak” people are that want out of the system and they have those to prey on then to get rid of them. It’s very similar to the origin of this Witness Protection program, where the main worker looked the same as the — I show these photos all the time but don’t have them at my fingertips right now or much of anything else. He’d looked like the Murder, Inc. boss that’d allegedly been assassinated in 1959 and he might otherwise easily have been one of his “offspring-descendants” that looked exactly like him, Albert Anastasia/Anastasio, and they’re very like cousins then, Frankenstein-made cousins, — never mind, this is just being the bad day for poor little me. Plus there’s the worse aspect that in the “larger view” the system’s likely gearing up to make things even worse here right after I leave if I can get to where I’m going to be trying to go as soon as it isn’t suicidal-like to get there too early in this winter-season time. It seems like that’s what had gone on underworld-wise while I’d been shuttled up to Maryland, that I came back and things seemed system-worsened, plus specifically around under that shelter I’d been in for the decade, so along with all the other horror-inanities I’ve also got this bad feeling that maybe when I leave things will be left to become even worse here for the people around me that I’m leaving them to. The “Jew” that seems to direct all this Armageddon always runs that scam on me and I’m finally starting to see that that’s the main thing about the whole “crucifix-” theme religion, preying on the sympathies of females, which could be looked at as having some silver lining good side to itself but they’re not doing anything except force-keeping me in the gutter, is why I have to worry all the time about that these tricks are going to curtail my being able to get out of this for myself personally, let alone for what goes on that the underworld/underground is always moving ahead toward their bizarre self-interest goals. I’m trying all the time to start any new post to keep from running on and on where these are too long to read but my days are like one strung-together long emergency of one sort or another after another, and one of the titles I’d like to use is
PPfT, Pointy-cheeked People for Themselves, they could make an association for themselves, as it seems that I just get one of these “Jomon-made” conceited operatives after another secretly thrown at to sabotage me. Then I’m always trying to get to being able to mention that sex is like practice toward having a partner with whom to re-charge by afterward as spirit people, that people charge-up off of one another like that. That’s why, I think at least, females expect to stick with one partner, that there isn’t any point in diffusing the practice, that it’s cost-efficient to practice with the same person so that it comes naturally and easily and quickly and you keep your spirit alive afterward that way, having a partner to mix electro-chemistry with.
This then coin/medal here,
This copy of the medal of Dona Gracia (the younger?) is from the 2002 book on all this, “The Woman Who Defied Kings,” by Andree Aeolian Brooks. I think that posting it is simply “Fair Use” of published materials, but there’s a picture of Duke Ercole of Ferrara that goes with it, and then the next page is this peculiar bit that I think is connected to ovary-begetting.This is more or less the same pattern as the “Briseis” taking females for slavery and I think that if this girl isn’t exactly from the Briseis line of people then it’s the same pattern used on her and that I’m descended maybe more specifically from her. It’s said to be a medal made of Dona Gracia but I think it’s of her daughter or niece. Then a horrifying thought occurred to me that maybe the female-parent I’d gotten is also from one of these Nasi-owned “lines” or genotypes of people, because they seem to be using quite a few of them in this “Armageddon Program” or what goes on underneath wherever I go all these decades. For instance, that that line of people doesn’t particularly like my line of people is traditional, so in this “Program” they have the whole fraud-family of stereotypes like arguing about me as like a comedy-entertainment. Trying to get myself out of this. I just checked the email and there’s still not a response to the last time, just last week or the weekend before, the Saturday before last, I’d mailed for some more of the Florence Sabin letters. It’s like my only bright spot to get a few more of those and make some progress toward this larger picture of how this relatively-small conspiracy has taken over the planet earth by rigging up this “cannibalism-monopoly” to try to describe what we’re all stranded in now. Then the predominant factor is probably even moreso the serotonin that they get as the byproduct of the cannibalism, and the other things made with brain chemicals, but I think serotonin is the favorite, would guess that, that “LSD” is preferable to the speed or other types of highs. I hope tomorrow isn’t (messed up = a phrase I try to avoid,) a bad day.
I’m trying to find an exact address on the original or first National Geographic Society building, whee there used to be a nice picture I could find of its opening day or some such, that I’ve walked b y the building that’s near hear somewhere, but now it looks like they’ve built all around it to a building, where I think it had been nearly a ruin, that’s the operations place for the DC Library, which I don’t recall there’s having been anything there when I’d walked by not that long ago, maybe 3 years or thereabouts. But I thought it had been nearer to Bell’s time, Alexander Graham Bell. I have to check also to see if his father was involved. I found an address of 1705 3rd Street NE here, and this photo I think is 1709 3rd NE. I’m doing this because I noticed the sign carved into the building of the People’s Drug store’s early building and it isn’t too far from that area, trying to figure if there’s any correlation between the AG Bell and the “people’s-drug” store, that I think has basically become mostly the CVS drug store or pharmacy that’s here now in some of the same buildings, but the one around 1st and Florida NE was the original warehouse or what for themselves.
Check Wikipedia image of its 1924 architect Arthur B. Heaton, 1875-1951.
Harry Thomas, Sr., Feb. 1922-Aug. 7, 1999 — I can’t find any picture of him but there’s a good, longish article, “The Trouble With Harry” from back in the early ‘nineties maybe. That the space between the 1924 National Geographic Society’s building and the big warehouse for the People’s Drug store chain is mostly this recently-created Harry Thomas Way, that I’d walked down the same day I’d noticed the NGS building back a few years ago. The whole area is really “Brave New World” who knows? sort of an ambiance.
The big “mind ftrip” on my way here today is a set on the “Almas” people, so I have to ignore that for now in order to try to make any progress today, but it brings up the 1964 Kitty Genovese scandal that’s attached then to all this about my situation so I should get it mentioned that there could be something to it that some modern news-mediaperson or another struck me as looking like an “offspring-descendant/bio-child maybe” of the guy, who passed about 2 years ago I was just reading, after more than 50 years in jail for that 1964 scandal-crime set, convicted, Mr. Winston Moseley. There’s something in there to all that around him. And that with Ms. Genovese might be alot like this “hoax” around that someone else must have been hit by that car that the police report was done on while I’d already been whisked to a hospital in an unreported then car-hit, a game with “lookalikes” maybe, that’s a pattern the system does. Now I get to look at my list of things to try to get to and see that I’m trying to get to the subject of lying, that,
It’s Okay to Lie to Psychopaths
as a title for a whole post-subject, that the National Geographic had just had a cover story on Why People Lie two or four months ago and I couldn’t get to mention back then maybe that the normal people are standardly jammed between or amongst these psychopaths and there isn’t any other way for us to survive them sometimes. It comes up because of my situation the night before last, that trick-set. I was sitting with a person that I figure with good reasons is like on the Consortium-team of the hallucino-people who are doing this global-system world-takeover and I feel that there’s no other realistic behavior under such a situation, you can only try to stay away from people who are going to sabotage you and I haven’t yet been able to get myself out of this situation because I already can know that it’s only going to follow to and while I’m on my way to wherever I’m going to go, that the society is flooded with these system-made “approved-of people’s” stereotypes. Then when the subject of telling any inexact-truth even comes up the system of congenital liars starts preying on the normal person’s “guilt” sensibilities and everything goes on and on in circles, like the Autists must have done while forcing their way over Beringia maybe a million years ago for all anyone should care now, etc. I’m really trying to get to the Trojan invasion subject because the Marvel graphic novel’s copyright permission is going to take awhile to obtain if I can get to somewhere I can sit and do these correspondence-contacts, try to. Also with the Almas people there’s the connection of the gutteral voices/noises, and where all those streams of writing had come from; to check El Greco, copper ore on Japan? (And the Battle of Lepanto. /en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Lepanto — The Wikipedia article doesn’t mention Joseph Nasi but as far as I know he’d invent/engineered the whole thing, the whole “fiasco,” disaster, filth. – check Nasi file under Types/”You Were Wrong/.)
(this is in the Nasi file,) Retouched version of Le Bain Turc/The Turkish Bath, by Jean Auguste Dominiqu Ingres, 1862, oil on canvas; from C2RMF.jpg with border removed and levels adjusted / C2RMF: Galerie de tableaux en très haute définition: image page(it’s too dark to see the background details otherwise); Musee du Louvre; Gift of the Société des Amis du Louvre, with the contribution of Maurice Fenaille, 1911. (See Wikipedia write-up, The Turkish Bath, by Ingres, and, https://www.artble.com/artists/jean_auguste_dominique_ingres/paintings/the_turkish_bath.)
1/26/18, Friday, I somehow lost my lunch for today and there isn’t any other food around till tonight and I’m frail to begin with so I won’t be able to get much done today, plus I think I lost half or most of my list of things to do today somehow also. Each day is being ruined by something or another. Then on the way to this terminal I found the 2016 book by Bobby Brown and started reading all that bizarre business around the 2 deaths. I have to make a note to try to look up who Nick Gordon is, maybe of Atlanta, maybe New Jersey. Ms. Houston looks/-ed like the actress whose name is difficult for me to spell, Dihanne I think it is, Carroll. She’d started I think largely as a nightclub singer and did films and then that TV show “Julia.”
The Trojan Horse story and the Turkish Bath picture are 2 different time-periods (I guess,) not to confuse the subjects too much more.
Really yesterday I was supposed to start some letter of introduction to all this in hope of getting some assistance, start practicing it to have it already written when/if I get to Florida, poor little lunchless me today, that since I’ve gotten frail from all this invisible-torture I can hardly go, during the day, 3 hours without eating something before it’s a real drama-production when I have to leave these libraries, today at this new to me one finally and I thought there was a store nearby and there probably is one but I couldn’t tell from the search-engine map that it’s up a steepish hill so it’s the same as not being there for me and then there isn’t anywhere else — except one possibility but I already know that I’m not going to “hop” off of a bus in a strange neighborhood in the cold when I can’t really walk more than a block like this, takes me about half an hour to walk a block in the cold and such absurdities all the time, better to wait till I get to the shelter where I have a can of food available for an emergency like this for my little old self anymore. The place I’m supposed to be trying to get a letter together for is only (mostly) because it has that Alpha-Omega in its title, is based on that, I’m the Alpha and the Omega, Rev. 22:13, I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. From Wikipedia’s file: The term Alpha and Omega comes from the phrase “I am the alpha and the omega” (Koiné Greek: “ἐγὼ τὸ Α καὶ τὸ Ω”), an appellation of Jesus in the Book of Revelation (verses 1:8, 21:6, and 22:13). The first part of this phrase (“I am the Alpha and Omega”) is first found in Chapter 1 verse 8 (“1v8”), and is found in every manuscript of Revelation that has 1v8. Several later manuscripts repeat “I am the Alpha and Omega” in 1v11 too, but do not receive support here from most of the oldest manuscripts, including the Alexandrine, Sinaitic, and Codex Ephraemi Rescriptus. It is, therefore, omitted in some modern translations. Scholar Robert Young stated, with regard to “I am the Alpha and Omega” in 1v11, the “oldest [manuscripts] omit” it.
I’ve been thinking about Holly Near’s song, “It Could Have Been Me,” but instead it was you, so I’ll keep doing the work I was doing as if I was two, etc., and it occurred to me that that had turned out to be me that other people might have been suffering like, that it did turn out to be me; It could have been you, but instead it was me, so YOU keep doing the work I was doing, etc.– But that’s solely if there’s some after this, that the system-bums use me as a LURE to attract normal people to find out more about this so don’t, it’s really hopeless if even I can’t get some let up in all this gratuitously-made sadism.
These Bible-readers don’t have any interest even if they were allowed to hear about what I’m trying to get across through all this criminal underground but I feel that my situation is so real and extreme, that it’s that “Alpha and Omega” possibly the same as the one on that white horse, Rev. 19:11, that engineered this system we’re in and I got stuck at the bottom of how those promise-threats were made to come true and the whole thing is only, like, s***-throwup in reality, that there was something wrong with the author of the Revelation and I traced it to, etc., into the Prehistoric-descended Autism-psychopathy with narcotic-addiction that had extincted the dinosaurs and then substituted us people for the missing food.
See what ^|^ she’s sitting on, from there to here ^|^ and the toes*,
William Blake, 1757-1827, Whore of Babylong, pen and watercolous over pencil, 1809, London, British Museum; Source: http://www.apocalyptic-theories.com/gallery/whoreofbabylon/blakebabyl.html, Wikimedia Commons says it was contributed by someone named Shakko. – This is a faithful photographic reproduction of a two-dimensional, public domain work of art… — due to its age.
* that’s what these 25 years of this have been like, me being ridden as an animal-disgustingness exhibition, that that’s me with those 7 or what heads like animals all on top of me, some of them screaming about “Julie! Julie!” all the time.
This is just Blake’s image of this Rev. 21 or 22 part of the Revelation/Armageddon–making, but it’s very specifically like what I’ve been going through. Really I suspect that there had been at least one other but maybe very many, exhibition- “show/s” to this Armageddon-making, that there was a big once circa 1979, between the Bicentennial and then the 1984 big date, as the system just remorselessly pushes this takeover of its/theirs. And in my case I’d just happened to survive this far, which makes me really nervous about keeping that going. But that’s what it’s like for me, constantly “invisibly” yelling for those heads and whatever else to get off of me, get off of me you parasites. Then the parasites respond that Julie is better than you, better than you, in some “invisible” sort of a retardo Sesame Street singsong all the time, all the time.I figure that there might have been a thousand people back a few decades ago who were in this “Revelation show” situation but that I’d happened to survive this far, but nobody really knows that I’m alive or would know the difference if I wasn’t. That’s why I’m nervous about my health insurance’s suddenly being switched back to that company again without any explanation to myself, because these filthy things crawling all over me had done some sort of a “shadow world trick” of like sewing up my innards during the winter of 2014-2015, and I can’t scream because I’m in this 24/7 public places situation, so that it was like they’d, the things from the fraud-parent, “trussed” my innards so all this breathing difficulty ensued and instead of Medicaid I’d gotten Trusted Health and the car-hit situation, that I’m still basically in, just going from one system-place to another. My point is that the book of Revelation is about that Alpha and Omega “brain damaged brain eating brain invader” and this is the New Jerusalem they’d wanted and it’s founded on nothing except “lies and doo-doo” and that leaves the future like — doomed. So I’m going to have to try to explain this to this lady who might well have a closed mind, as everyone else who’s survived I guess has had, to assisting me actually out of this. She does fundraising for her own Alpha and Omega business and I could use any sort of assistance she might be interested in, like this UniverseRescue-Attempt could be turned into someone else’s blogsite that works with alot of this material but from their own slant on it if there was anyone I could reach that there is perhaps an infinite number of planets out there waiting for mature humans to grow them into being habitable planets, but instead we’re dying off as “retards.”
1/27, Saturday, i have 2 corrections to make above but am busy with this obscure question of if Sir Henri Deterding could have been Bronx-born Stan Lee’s bio-pater, and barely have a few minutes, the horror horrible. — I can’t get anything except one note in Variety that Deterding went on the Aquitania with a Miss (Mina) Schall that then stayed at some Maidenhead residence, the exact spelling i missed but it sounded like where Marcus Samuel got. — I couldn’t find an easy email address for asking where in the Bronx Stan Lee is from. I have to leave. Good luck to me, I say more than usual right now as the parasitism is ineffable. Deterding was alleged to be getting married to Ms. Schall. Let me check Wikipedia. — Now I realize that more than Lee/Lieber the Dulles brothers looked like Sir Deterding. the boys, Dulles brothers. Allen and John Foster Dulles, Secy of State.
It’s really bad, these monsters are killing me with the regular “slug-pneumonia” pattern, that I think comes alot from Oswald Avery’s work. I’ve bad it this bad about 45 times since 2005 and about 30 times where I was able to catch and minimize it but it’s real bad and I’m thinking that what is done to me is that I’m in like a see-through “magic” -cage and they “bell jar” such the oxygen out of it so that I’m unawaresedly walking and especially sleeping like in an all-surrounded moat of low, low oxygen availability, whereby the “Armageddon Program” tells people that I’m brain-damaged and retarded. They were seeding for that illness when suddenly I got hit with that phony food poisoning over a teeny bit of canned ham leftover and then microwaved on a leftover pizza crust; it was really good, but the next day this inane but typical tearing at my intestines began and they dragged that out for 3-4 days and then a day of toothache and then, Pow! they must have gotten one of these slug-germs or viruses or what they are, chopped up yellow slug pieces that regenerate is what I figure this is, into me and Boom I’ve been sick and barely able to move and am scared to death and it occurred to me that what this really mostly is is that the “bell jar” that they have my hologram-image in has had the normal oxygen-level sucked out of it so that I’m barely getting any through that “invisible” torture death-trick. They know enough to have some assassin-looking guy walk up to the terminal next to me right now but never anything for the fact that they are wrong in making this underworld and the 1969 “magnificent desolation” only moon-landing shows that the underworld characters are way out of sync with reality. And then these global-bums pursue their fantasy-delights off of having me at the bottom of this LURE that disappears the normal people into hydrocarbon petrolem black goo for “oil.” So Stan Lee seems connected into all this maybe or maybe not exactly directly through Sir Deterding, and I think he’d gotten property in the Bronx which perhaps includes this “Bathgate Avenue Market” that the curses onto me seem to have come from, using that slaughter-area for making up for what they couldn’t get through their space venture for riches. If I write about what I suspect sometimes they’ve lessened the tortures so that’s mostly what this is in hope of because these bums are really really disappearing me with this low-oxygen “magic” standard difficulty, where I’m too weakened for all this anymore. The libraries here had a big “Pow! Wham!” Every Hero has a Story graphic novels theme here in like 2014 and 2015. I tried to keep an example of one of their flyers and it might be in a pdf somewhere. Here I’ll try to find the example of the “magic” cage type of contraption I think they do this filth-exhibition of me in. cages2, cage, one of these had come out better than the other but I can’t check it from this editing mode, only afterward if I look specifically for these things which I seldom can. I have to write to all these people for permissions but their all “Fair Use” of published/public materials, especially in that the libraries are maybe the biggest buyers, support the royalty-payments that these empty-book authors are all making, getting paid because they’re system-helpers only really, but they all get supported by the taxpayers’ money, and this invisible-torture to me here always alone all these years. The “things” from the fraud-parent were like all around yesterday. They might be “innocently” getting assigned to watch me by the Babar-retardos but I can never guess and they’re just really really scary strangers who all hallucino-world play or think that they’re my “heirs,” and they want the UniverseRescue theme as a good-sounding gimmick for the LURE if poor little me gets shunted into a hospital over this low-oxygen trick that’s unprovable again.
2/8/18, trying to recuperate from the slug-pneumonia and the cold weather and it isn’t going well. 2/9, the only new thing is that I’m trying to see if the nickname “Game-boy” might stick for describing this underworld difficulty-set, it’s prime-mover type, the Armageddon-maester of everything for the brave new world, etc., what I’ve been figuring is the old and anonymous Jomon people, but lumping the whole type under the one nickname maybe now as best simply describes the situation. Game-boy (of the global-system) outwitting me left and right no matter what I might try. 2/10, the thing now is to get a bus ticket but they have this holiday, “holiday,” coming up and I figure it’s best for me to try to leave after that’s over with so as not to bring the “Armageddon Show’s” version of holiday-spending behind my back along with me, that this February “cupid” one involves like Aztec-style cutting out of that main body part, seems the general theme behind my back/under my feet every year. Whatever the slaughter-type it leaves a brain as “junk” left over for the system to thrive off of, so even though it’s a trifling possibility that the Armageddon Program is going to be conspicuous I’d just as soon not give all the performing-types the opening of me arriving in a new place around any of the holidays, “holidays” and that one in particular. Already I’d delayed a bit because they have some follow-up to the Ringling circus doing a first circuit on its own and I don’t want to get mixed with them either, or anything except myself. This place I should repeat or stress is like a hotbed of systeminess, from St. Augustine down to all the little bits that make up the particular locale, so that it isn’t anywhere to look for me either, would be a place to beware of being LURED to. Year after year I’ve railed to whatever monitors my internals that LURING is beneath humans, humans don’t behave like that, we’re honest, we don’t trick-entrap people to death, there’s something wrong with that thinking and it’s leading us to extinction. Then I realized that whatever it is couldn’t care less about any extinction and that that leads to that it’d wind up with loss of the whole planet, which makes me sick. All I want to do is to see if there’s really healing sunshine somewhere I can reach, and find a room I can rent by the week till it’s warm enough to go look into the Sabin papers, get an overview of what’s there. It got away from me during this illness-bout. I have to send for a new batch of them but — maybe I could get the papers printed out while I’m here now, like things should’t be too difficult but I’m like conked out from being able to get anything productive done all the time. As soon as I get the thought to give getting the order form printout set made a routine goes on at the terminal next to me, like a combatant-ritual, as “Game-boy” runs all the people more or less by more or less remote control it always seems. Let me go try to find the order-form and get the copy-set made despite the system’s invisibly hanging on to deluge anything I might try to get done. Then I have to write a note to try to figure out about that the copyright on all or most of her letters seems to be held by the Swann family in Denver, Mrs. Geraldine, likely in her late seventies I think. It’s difficult to keep track of all this and I’ve only gotten a glimpse of a corner or Florence’s verbiage about this and that. There was a Mrs. Betty Swann (II?) who’d had a car accident in 1937, had hit and killed a lady somehow, but then I didn’t hear more about that yet. Right now the letters are at the beginning of 1942 and I got off track with keeping some coming in till I get a note sent off again, because the little letters are like the only pleasant thing I have going for me, and that’s pretty pathetic, as is the whole subject set, but for me it’s relatively cheerful because at least she was unaware of all this. My concept is that if I could get some sun and re-health myself and make it up for an overview of her letters, then maybe the ladies there would assist me with being able to reach another set of the letters and then with that much information I could start trying to look into trying to explain how most of the criminal cannibalism system had stemmed off of using the 2 Sabin sisters, toward then this all over me, which is unreal to try to describe from down here. It’s all about growing humans as being sales products I guess, and largely for the petroleum industry, but everything’s all mixed up over time so that it’s all made to seem trivial or some such. Right when the 2 sisters were born near Denver a Brooklyn group opened the school that they’d then moved to Denver and attended and Mary had worked in until whenever she’d retired, taught there for 40 years, what went from being first-named Wolfe Hall and is evolved now to East High School or Eastern HS there, but it’s from this South Brooklyn Savings Institution I think was the name, George A. Jarvis and a Bishop Randall, established the school the Sabin girls went to and then both taught in, and this “Armageddon Show” comes from Brooklyn, from Coney Island more or less, so I figure that that’s inter-related more than being a coincidence. I haven’t been able to put together a thing about what group had moved from the Lower East Side up to the Bronx’s Bathgate Avenue that then became this trap that I’m in I figure, that the system’s plans had evolved into when their/its space venture hadn’t panned out. Now all sirens are going off in the neighborhood around me, fire trucks and whatnot, to intimidate tiny me even further, this invisible warfare goes like, and I’m just saying that it hasn’t much of a future and should be re-assessed before it extincts the human race. It’s all “lies and doo-doo” from old Prehistory mere errors, etc. Then one or both of the Sabin girls had likely come from the Victoria “little queen” character in this all the world’s a stage perspective, putting the girl into that position only to sit underneath and criticize everything she did all her life, and then I’m further trying to get across that her genes seem to have come from a “Briseis” type of an enslaved war prisoner female, illegally taking people by crazy people foundation to all this. Instead they pursue my any synaptic movement like it’s a game of foiling and thwarting specifically me in order to keep their system afloat and legal-seeming. it’d likely be 3 months before I could get the overview of what her papers cover and then, like now with the holiday and not wanting it to interfere with my uninvolved private-life business, I’d have to figure what would be best for the schedule for where the papers are for me to try to quick go get a look at them, without bothering their school business calendar, what that’d be like with the spring and summer break periods, that I could try to fit my business into that and then get out but I’ve got that other thing I’ll require some assistance with getting checked, papers in another location. So if I could get all that and, goodness, I’d like to then be able to keep renting in St. Augustine, and regroup and then see about the Denver part of all this global hook-up.
Kahlil Gibran, 1883, Lebanon, -1931, NY; PD because of its age, from Wikimedia Commons. An odd thought about Gibran occurred but I can’t back it up with anything yet, probably won’t ever be able to.