James MacRyland Crary

[AmericanPig]

Bernard Wattenmaker, an Israeli American in Pittsburgh who arranged my purchase as an infant through the NAACP of the University of Pittsburgh's underworld for a British vivisection experiment in cultural extermination politics, was a psychiatrist at Attica State Penitentiary. Although people do pay for entertainment, most of the time if people think you are going to make money from your writing they will disapprove. As a philosophy I have been told frequently by persons who call themselves friends to write a book, preferably fiction, about what happened and make some money, keep it entertaining. Any bad note will cause them to drop it. The narrator should be healthy enough to participate in denial and thus be a good narrator to follow. Do it right, because in the politics of genocide skepticism really speaks for everyone. Faulty brains aren’t meant to be shot, this is America, but when in doubt, entertain. Humanize Frankenstein for the sadists. True stories, ha. Everyone has got a true story. Why agitate? Instead be accepted by calling it an interesting story. Isn’t it better to be entertaining than poor? Do not blame the audience, they have troubles, too. Keep in mind that if the trick is not to tell it their way, that's always a disadvantage.

After all, isn't what you really want a Bachelor's in The Nature of Reality from the University of Pittsburgh or Washington?

The story was written to be written, you were drafted and all is a draft. The writers never let you marry, they scared off that Kathy girl from Maine. There was always something mysterious about your deafness, and the fear was in your eyes. How lewd could they be about dating while intoning from the pens at Harpers about the fear holding trace elements. Charmed, I’m sure. Meanwhile the NAACP ruled a verdict that a white life doesn’t matter because by Pittsburgh provincial standards you have to fight back or get knocked out as a sissy. No one could see how suspicious this rhetoric was when they learned that you had been kidnapped and gassed in a heaven-like place called Kings Estate by men named Pitman. Gassed, while a Jewish holocaust survivor’s daughter wrote you letters from a kibbutz. Gassed for not fighting back, and you were guilty because Harpers wanted information they disapproved of about dating. That’s not outrageous.

A 2nd holocaust simulation, resulting in seizures and diabetes, after a long ordeal of homelessness, was put together on Mt. Desert Island, no wait, I’m sorry, that was for real, too, this was supposed to be entertaining, now forgotten, clocked to AIDS, but wait, for fun, this was about contagion and death over a virgin, pussyball they called it, they even had the Beatles for support. So there’s nothing sinister, nothing irregular, that’s entertainment. Even though the perpetrators advertise chloroform genre, impinged their caustic narrative, deafened you and left you with neurotrauma and brain damage, signing the name of their pornographic empire, though you were a child attacked blindside, for reasons of sex and race Seattle laughed and raped everyone you loved. Nobody paid for it, they called in Oliver John.

The writers have hunted you your entire life, right down to their U.S. Neva Corp. Government Issued online pornography pharmaceutical substitute for a girlfriend, those powers that be, ask them. They drafted you, take a look at the draft, that’s your name, pal.