When Roberto Clemente died I was with my father Ryland, then Chair of Philosophy of Education at the University of Pittsburgh, which is now the largest employer in the region, bigger than United States Steel who it replaced in that distinction. I was a Bill Mazeroski fan. We weren’t traitors. I spent my summers with loving grandparents in St. Louis, cheering Bob Gibson. Pittsburgh did identify me with St. Louis because of my cherry blond hair, and they took turns beating me in what seemed to be joy beatings from the office of Governor Milton Shapp, whose advisor Ralph Tive introduced me to him, and whose son Michael, now at SONY, battered me. Tive re-appearance mysteriously on a strangely graphic edited book on George Leader by my father before he died. Dad was from Bush’s ship in the Navy.
This is from the script that was used by foreign English Real Worlds Studios to supply venom and lies in the name of Vera Clemente, courtesy Rosa Clemente and Rosa Monteleone, to position the wives of the murdered behind the assassins who killed Roberto, King and supposedly John Lennon. Women are outrageous in Pittsburgh, Jewish blackguards have married into our family with intent to organize a proto-fascist vendetta on our house for Bush. They’ve used mind-altering narcotics, brutal beatings and nerve agents, but their main current is child hostage, embarrassment, brutal trauma and pedophile blackmail. In this criminal action the White House itself has no peers.
Carnegie Mellon University hired Andrea Swimmer to help them manage the staged and phony intercept of the Burstyn script. She is the tie that binds Justin Chang and Ming Na Wen to Burstyn and Cohen, named in the script. She was with a Chinese boy at the time that Peter Shell working with the mysterious psycholinguistic labs of Jaime Carbonell, took me by her apartment and she came out spitting, “that’s him,” of me. Shell extruded the conscious implant of pedophile hostage created neurolinguistically that Eno used to brutally torture me in a neuroplasm for interrogation by extrusion in violation of the Fifth Amendment, without habeus corpus, in a criminal bid to intercept freedom of speech and vanquish testimony about the inside workings of Carnegie Mellon and Pitt in the AIDS Onslaught. This was an alliance of Yoko Ono and Ronald Reagan.
The Japanese, by the way, have attacked us before.
The presumption in the community who watched, waited and went along with this is that super-lawyers, in their war on the Constitutional rights of a deaf child, would make saleable the idea that there was only one Gail Burstyn, only one woman who was vicious enough to work with brutal child pimps like Ronnie Zsinski in the NAAMBLA movement of Paul McCartney and scatological duke David Bowie. Women on the Pittsburgh Police coached Andrea Swimmer in what to say, totally insouciant about the suspicious scripting in advance, putting out a Red Alert for derogatory comments that might be made about her. She had bullied me into sex for the Braunsteins and Burstyn to own my name for future blackmail as a neurobedient, crying, traumatized, hostage deaf child.
But white, so no one cares.
Swimmer was hotwired into our house through Lucarelli, a putative step family who helped Reagan and Tive author the script with a Ph.D from PITT. David Lucarelli worked with Rusted Root, Peter Sinfield and 20th Century Fox lying to and about me. He once grabbed my jugular vein for questioning the lies being told by one of his Jewish allies in my dining room. Mrs. Lucarelli was a Pittsburgh Police officer who said, “Why should I care if there is a police state when I am a police woman?” She didn’t, neither did he. Indeed, women on the Pittsburgh Police let penis size in the case of Don Ostro dictate whom to arrest when a small child shows up crying and inchoate.
The Federal Bureau of Investigation, who I am suing next year, has No Compunction, No Remorse, No Fear of Consequences in executing what Judge Thomas really meant when he spoke of a high-tech lynching, a political Taliban by a bi-partisan Bonnie and Clyde show of Machiavellians, Hillary and Trump. In the name of Retrospective Conversion, Supreme Contempt for the Bill of Rights they wage war today on the very premise of our dignity. Using military psychiatry to push me into alexytemia, a virtually unknown condition even among modern psychiatrists, of which case of extreme mistreatment only is known elsewhere among Jewish Holocaust survivors of the sort who had me kidnapped, butchered, gassed and used for vivisection, they broadcast in filthy slanders that I was hiding something out of self-incrimination which proved to be being kidnapped in tears beyond tears one freezing snowy day I was too afraid to go to school, and they found me anyway. Having convinced everybody that I was hiding a date rape in this neuro-amnesia, Robert Fripp and Harborview Medical Center had me chemically castrated, without victim or trial.
The suspicious schizophrenia ensued after insane cruel sex and defamation ordeals by women with the names of super-lawyers, Ms. Miles (as in Kirshner) and her friend E. Snyder, as in Edgar Snyder. Following the cues of Lucy Van Sickle and Peter Leo, Peter Gabriel shafted me with facelies like, “I love you, man,” aw, was that Sinfield, big difference, while getting Vera Clemente to cheer her husband’s murderers.
Midori Goto was the ringleader. Like my putative steps, grandma was surrounded by agents of Mehta, her partner in Braunstein/Ostro crime. Midori and Yoko Ono, working the Shiono klan with Meieren and Hammer, wanted me driven into catastrophic online rejection trauma to sleuth me as a cyberporn isolationist. That what they did is illegal and what I have done is legal doesn’t matter when the issue is publifying child sex trauma to create caustic jeers, hiding abomination. You will notice the Rip Van Winkle name in the text from the orchestrations.
Carnegie Mellon synthesized the rejection by Leslie Katz with the Andrea Swimmer’s maniacal shrieking that she had seduced me as a child while she was working for Gail Burstyn. Sneering that I had committed a Cardinal sin, a scarlet letter louie louie, Colin Powell and Fripp despicably and dishonestly followed the lead of white Nazi Will Zell and Wen on Mt. Desert Island setting up the Pecking Order gyration of Mr. President calling dibs on Midori for the Black ogre of pussyball justice, a ransom of cattle herding from child rustlers in Pennsylvania who made a ticket of sex tracking for the AIDS testing war game, camouflaged by abortion.
I am writing to the FBI and American Civil Rights Movement leadership in trauma about this outrageous and indecent tragedy. Due to the complicity and gross negligence of the FBI, and Major League Baseball who put up the Pussyball War Game, in horror crimes beyond all reckoning, I am forced to conclude you want a court scene. On January 4, 2016, without having secured representation due to Bar Association criminality, I am filing a 30 million dollar lawsuit of personal estate against the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and am advising you of this intention in an attempt to sway you to do the honorable thing and recognize the obscene, indecent and extreme misconduct of the outrages visited upon me in what I will prove in court is a ticket of lifelong intention to do Death Row homicide informally to a known innocent person in human sacrificialism they called SO. My lawsuit may not succeed in present each, every and all of the particulars, but I offer to give you a glimpse of what you have done, and how I plan to proceed, again, in the hopes of finding you willing to offer a satisfactory settlement and provide the required services.
You have violated my 5th and 13th Amendments and proceeded without habeus corpus. Among your outrages was to disable me deliberately for lie in horrible, Manson-like kidnapping and mutilationist ordeals. You then hid the pedophile bondage and mutilation behind trafficking of a neurotraumatic injury conjoined to deadly threats that induced compulsory neurobedience in your plaything, while subjecting me to cruel trafficking, entrapment, luring, brinkmanship, and public mockery, including an on the job ordeal wiping out my rights as a deaf person, through Union intrigues of a shiftless, caustic co-worker lobby who now are humilating me regarding my bowel habits after cruel medical malpractice diminished my personal welfare significantly. Without school, I cannot defend myself, a fact you know well. You tortured me. You used the neurotrauma spitefully through sadistic sexual practices not only trafficking me as a child, but through experimental sexual trafficking machinery intended to pimp a victim of neurotraumatic torture for sadistic recreation and murderously cruel sadism. Throughout the ordeal you represented yourself as loving me, licking your cannibal lips with the word affection on your forked tongue. It was a Federalized, immoral, illegal, but to you clearly hysterically funny Collection Agency. You tampered again and again in camera, unauthorized, illegally with intent to trigger seizures and the double meaning of this word SEIZURE was evoked to criminalize my involuntary convulsions at the mercy of neurohypnotic voodoo with which you set upon a known innocent man. Then you had my loved one raped, slasher murdered an innocent woman as a threat underwriting your hate craft and are supsected in authoring or allowing the shooting of police and a Federal Judge to void compassion and concern being extended to me who you earmarked in a special, very secret operation. You sneered that this macabre viciousness was LOVE.
You forged my name to a terrible crime and used torture and knock out blows, inhuman chemistry to slyly plant letters on me indicative of your plan while I was unable to understand them as a child, then, after a hoary Rip Van Winkle ordeal I learned that you were holding me menacingly responsible with intent to work me for slave labors in a mutilationist extrusion encampment to give credit and franchise to pedophile traffickers who vivisectioned me in the curiosity chop shop. You knowingly allowed ravenous, rabid, vicious predators from the entertainment industry to slander me and hold me in traumatic hostage, including putative stepfamily with ties to police operations, contracting invasive, facelying, defamatory, undercover call girls with intent to make a game of sadistic abuse of a neurotrauma, a warped political action. You pushed me into a regression neurocoma that I had to become bonded with in half consciousness to remember the events welded shut, and did this while catcalling that I was hiding a date rape. For nothing would you stop.
By inflicting brutal head trauma and undiagnosed concussions on a child, you whipped up a very suspicious neuroplastic mental illness with intent to violate and exploit the enslavement jeering the credibility of your victim while brutalizing me in public view. Then, intrigued by your impunity in horrendous infamy and injury, you created an online football code style of alphanumeric symbols for cyberstalking communicating terroristic threats by known rapists and assassins as a political underwriting of this slavery.
Your agents threatened me that I would get into even more trouble if I attempted to report these offenses, attacked and arrested me without cause for trying to bring evidence to the Law School. My father Ryland was a Naval Lieutenant in Leyte Gulf during WW2, a Peace Corps leader, Philosopher of Education and author of Humanizing the School. I am a straight A student for the past two years, having recovered in cruel circumstances of trauma, crawling in deafness, tears and destitution, in seizures of anguishing agony, from your impacted neurological outrage, which amused you to no end, vomiting out the neurocongestion with memories of brutal kidnapping, which you then derided, which ordeal in nightmare fugitive from injustice finally enabled me to return to school with something of my inate senses, a success in academics that my puzzled, divorced father did not live to so. My maternal grandparents were friends of Riehardt Neibuhr, the Noblelaureatte poet of Nebraska, and were voted Distinguished Citizens of Poplar Bluff, MO. This fact enflamed you with hatred, rather than filled you with remorse or compassion. When I tried to get help from the newspaper at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch you ridiculed me and told me I would “die trying” to get help from your criminal insanity.
I am not a Graduate in Paralegal Studies and I am going to stand up. I am going to sue you. I am going to humiliate you for the horrendous, brutal, indecent, obscene, vicious and TOTALLY UNPROVOKED insane criminality you have authored for years and years and years, spitefully and without relent. Everybody knows that Peter Gabriel helped you to do it. He wrote my house extensively, charting out their terrain, getting Federal accomplices all stoked up for the bloodbath of their jeering section. Your perverted actions were not just a violation of Habeus Corpus, but lifelong arbitrary depravation of rights and liberties. I am now a Senior Citizen and only barely recovered enough from the insane, despicable operation that you have run to attend school.
The FBI and Peter Gabriel do not believe there is a legal system that could possibly apply to them. Gabriel’s visit to NASA was like a grandiose inflation of the way the State Troopers at Kent State who shot Alison Krause dead went around signing autographs afterwards. The English mind is extremely sloppy when it comes to making a mockery of the rights of others. They read in my stupid, misinformed letters of faith to them past both my incomprehension about their authorship of abomination and an endorsement of the prevailing illegality and corruption of their estate and read it as a right to do ripper molestation, after claiming to be from Amnesty International, the only reason I trusted them. Rape they called non-violence.
After their neurological poison and child flogging they tested my obedience by forcing me to give away valuable possessions, then, networking other celebrities in an unspeakable organization of ultimatum, they ruthlessly lied about the content of a high school letter of bereavement to get such women as Vera Clemente on the side of her own husband’s killers. This script of murder on which you put my name without permission was done very, very secretively with intent to profit truth killers.
I suggest you find the honor to take seriously the society you claimed to represent, because I am taking you to court and the penalty when, not if, the Court sees it my way, which you can be sure they will, very grave.