Monday, June 10, 2024

Common Sense Is Not Censorship, Described by Thomas Paine II


    So here we are where the full fabrication of a WARRANTED CENSORSHIP is really trying to erase the truth from being seen by the AMERICAN PUBLIC.


Bill Ritter ACCUSED @ 11 Squares!

SOAPBOXVIEW Censored By Social Media's 


    How deep Morons reach in BOB IGER'S DISNEY/ABC, Abigail Disney? Apparently depths, as that's an easy enough concept to face for people as belligerently willing to openly lie a year. Hiding, while even revealed as BUSH/CIA MOB National Enquirer Associates. 

    All want points for hating DONALD DUMP as Living on EVIL LIES Worked to this point in contriving their dishonest personalities. 

They own everything as Three Days of the Condor discloses. So though ultimately mean to me, I forgive many. NEVER SCHEMING bill - FAKE FACE, DRY WALL BRAIN - ritter.

Common Sense Is Not Censorship 

$1 pdf Pamphlet

Described by Thomas Paine II

Honoring Open History Stepping Stones Raisa and Mikhail Gorbachev  

    Founding Father Thomas Paine favored independence writing COMMON SENSE. Then British Colonists created the United States of America reading COMMON SENSE. 

    What’s My Line? Was another American landmark. The television show initially ran from 1950 to 1967. With an emcee cavorting with four sophisticated panelists. While today’s ABC reincarnation features how the guy’s mother would rule the world. The original’s highlight are the four pontificating panelists in debonaire repartee. The cosmopolitan, playwright Moss Hart’s (1904-61) widow, Kitty Carlisle and Peggy Cass, Bill Cullen and Don Ameche. Among revolving notables in a simply reliably applied, demographically accessible, platform for the Game Show Ages. An integral facet in amassing the inevitably facilitated Commercial American Heights. 

    But just as European Aristocracy is mistaken superior status, while broader based, American Achievers have similarly sat on prestige. Resulting in the actual dismembering of American Political Discussion. A Virtual Fanaticism that warps the actual competition of politics into mere Jousting Saboteurs. Who drink or scheme together-after-work. A Voyeurism centered on successfully getting away with slapdash jargon. Slogan signposts. Molded to hide from not fully facing Cultural Facts for generations. Belittling as ignorable, even the very clearest of messaging and information. Why PBS is scapegoated as just liberal. Because of FRONTLINE and other shows’ pinpoint revelations. By a pre-fabricated fake conservative opposition. Just the amplified bandwagon muffling of  American Politics for the last century. The Password is “Politicize.” Shutting ears to absorbing the substance of anything. Channeling Vision.   

    Belittling American possibilities. Attacking the extremely slightly government subsidized, public funded, Public Broadcasting System. The as per usual evidence of Flippant Propaganda Symbolism. Maintaining Partitioned American Thinking that hasn't evolved as the Nature of our American Political Dialogue. Public Dialogue that could have even led to actual National, State, and Local Debate. Rather than calculated, verbatim channeled Mediocrity. 

    Wall Street Executive Debt Deposit Steve “It’s Our Cake” Bannon haranguing the disposable troops as war always entails. His own words. Yada, yada. Get it? Just more redundant funded arrogance at the very most. Mar-a-Lago Maître d’hôtel is my suggestion. But how much lying can people get away with? Proven a lot. Exhibit Redundant: Donald Dump.

    Conservative molded tripe, while patting their backs that endless advertising equals over-arching patriotic fervor. Dominating the country with focused retread self-promotion. Just stay on message politicians for public convenience and control. Duh. 

    Distributed as Conservatism is Patriotism’s Face. Sold for generations that their Conservatism isn’t listened to or heard. Retread to their broken wheel, endlessly. For generations. Generations of dragging both sides of the American-Two-Party-System down their particular gesticulating holes. Bouncing argument across each other’s 50 Yard Lines. Oh, a first down? Nope. Game over. Teams headed for locker rooms, tied 0 - 0. Divvy up results. Big Party. 

    Worsening our Modern Times’ Centuries. That whole they’re still the smartest elitists in the room crap. Their patience is with the country out of step with their Commitments to Self-Righteousness. Fake Conservatism bought and demanded, and demands, equal opposition. All-the-while intellectually derivative at best, least and worst. No matter their foundation built from anti-communists riding propped up patriotism. Especially identifiable in twisted John Birch Iconography-for-a-Living Roger Stone Clones. Oh, Roger Stone is just their Far Left Far Right? Just exaggerated. Uh huh. That’s Political Culture boxed up tight. Stone’s low score? Integrity throws out on sight. 

    Financed well enough to complain and be sat around the country with college degrees. Staffing universities where students are assembled. Regular routine for generations. Disabling Modern Conservatism programmed regressive political thought. Organized to run from faced responsibility. Not Guilty Republicans? Doubt guilt faces reading. Nonetheless, history’s faced and not. Pass the Koch Brothers paper towels, please? The ones with that special elitist John Birch Society Brand Name threaded in. So quick! Call ourselves Federalists to twist the U. S. Constitution even more. No, not question. Fact. 

    Sue me then, hiding from the truth U. S. Supreme Court! Chief Justice Bathroom Throne. Beyond arrogant. The United States Supreme Court Reputation that he Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. advertises he deeply cares for. The U. S. Supreme Court’s reputation you Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. continue ruining yourself. As the Chief Justice Honky Cracker Legacy of the 2000 Burning Bush U. S. Supreme Court.  Honky Cracker William Hubbs Rehnquist, presiding Chief Justice. Among fundamentally unsound Reagan appointees. As are the distinctly impeachable Donald Dump throne-sitters. IMPEACH MITCH MCCONNELL! As with Disbarred Lawyer Roy Cohn, McConnell deserves an accurate send off from The U. S. Senate. Guts. Republican Farce Elaine Chao’s Toy Boy. Her father is a, for generations, Habitual Oil Spiller all over the world’s oceans’ crops. Historical Facts Rule! Former U. S. Transportation Secretary of DUPLICITOUS INTENT - Elaine “Republican Farce” Chao! 

    Thoughtful Conservatism? Face you didn’t face down idiocy anywhere near slightly enough. Anywhere even at a careless level! All Conservative America is Guilty! Destroy your careers? Game ruins America still. Just GROW UP! 

Accepted Disgraceful Programmed Numbers. For? To habitually Back-Pat your Self-Righteousness. Women’s Decision will end unfair abortion themselves. Get rid of boys mucking up adoption. Playing lawyering for money solves everything. Self-Righteous Gluttony! The humongous infrastructure surrounding kids to help? Smothers them is a basic Law of Gravity. My maternal grandparents adopted me their son. I never let the Law interfere with my parental relationship. Why most every adopted kid there is? They’re jealous of me and I’ve been told. 

    Fix rather than find where profit overrides solutions. Strategize Commercial Childcare better. Send in Readers For The Kids in every age group. Read, not homework. Reinforces thinking for themselves and sets a Parenthood example for adults. Everywhere throughout the entire Foster Care System. The Money’s in your own Inflation Riding the Economy to Smithereens Pockets! 

    Popular Commercial Entertainment Financing logically leans on run-of-the-mill pizzazz. As for the first time ever a Prime-Time NFL Draft was shown LIVE from Gambling’s Capital Las Vegas, Nevada. Forthrightly displaying The Prime Mission of stabilizing fan attention. Integrity in American Football? Let Canadien Accountants have some teams. See if that helps? Anyway, as they say - Selling make-up and beer still keeps our television boxed lives alive wherever screens appear. 

    On What’s My Line? Three real people are chosen per half-hour conveyor belt show. Technically nine as each segment included “and who are you” two really? The curtain opens on three contestants, Center Stage. Introduced as “I am so and so.” Andy Warhol Light 15 Minute Fame that afterwards slip back in their distinguished peripheries beneath National Celebrity. 

    Except famous spy novelist, John Le Carré. Early in the peaceful warrior’s The Spy Who Came In From The Cold fame. Stood relatively unpicked, admitting he’s himself with that self-effacing, inward, extra smile grin of his. On What’s My Line? Understand? Our Cold War had such Spy vs. Spy professional clarity, really was right out of MAD Magazine. How understood The Cold was. If only seen it was just legacies fronting the insincerity of sincerely exploited anger. Never deceived by anywhere near enough deception, to face any won-lost scenario. Hyped genuflecting, period. 

    Basically Established Organized Control over the globe never changed. As one primary example emphasizes, in that The KGB itself had The Power to appoint their Own Lifetime President. Again, from an intertwined back-patting self-enthralled ideal of Monopolists controlling to advantage. Names are changed so anyone’s guilt’s usably protected. Okhrana/KGB/FSB. President Putin himself, held hostage to his own personal hoarded fortune not circulating through Russia either! Plans for 1986’s Glasnost controlling opening history itself, that tried resolving their country’s foundational problems themselves? Found in The KGB’s own 1950s files. 

    So the collision between economics and fully functioning free individualism requires elucidating a Thomas Paine 2. As the current crisis facing our entire humanity is America is positioned to change or complete our seeing our destruction of this entire place. As Rich Bezos blasts off. The ruiner of the foundations of wholesale-retail through Executives as the Big Oil Destroys pretending to compete too. Bezos with nowhere to go but staying down. Even up there Rich it’s just consciences in spirit that can’t face their own souls. Everyone carving their own eternal future. As Jim Morrison refrained. “No eternal reward can save you now.” So obviously Jim Morrison’s Advertised Suicide was another murder too. Nowhere to go but a conscienceless faced soul. 

    Symbolizing as Thomas Paine had, the facing down of monarchy? It’s visible our Modern Colonialism hasn't evolved from the malignancies of our Hierarchical Roots. Writing and publishing COMMON SENSE, with Printer Thomas Bell, Thomas Paine faced British Aristocracy’s Mad King George. While we’ve had two verifiably Mad Big-Oil War Merchandizing King George Bushes in both our last two historical centuries. 

    Putting me in this predicament of having to explain, how historically  I am Dead-on-Arrival. Where the result of my life’s work is laid threadbare across a guillotine. Constructed by the Oil War Empire of Bush League CIA Enthusiastic Co-Imperialists. Banana Republics the world over. That never ended since copping out on proving capitalism during the Cold War itself. Morons pretended defending while encouraging half hour tornadoes today that were fueled by Gasoline Consciencelessness. All casually cast as just not ending for more decades. Finishing off possibly reversing the mistakes already known gone too far. 

    Fraud that electric isn’t everywhere gas sold. Buy your gas where electric sold. Madness not reversed already ruined Earth. Our faults and those Jack _SSes did it. Killed President John F. Kennedy and many others those people di tom control history. John Lennon faced the Demons Hiding From History and was killed for it. Why Paul McCartney and I had nothing to say but smile, when we met over a decade back.

    Former Dictators for War Autocracy President George “Oil King” Bushes. Jr., the Picasso of Self-Centered Minds. And Dick Cheney’s co-enabler. Worst humanity’s produced, who like illegal drug dealers don’t want the party of mayhem to end. 

    Why Bibi Netanyahu is idolized for framing Jews not facing themselves. Dick “Grenade” Cheney is a damned fool.

    The 2000 Presidential Election was pick-pocketed from the United States, by the Oil War Empire hiding behind those useless Bushes. Spawns of disgust, festered when Wall Street should have built America. Not just be the cutthroats, that demand that’s competition. 

    Example: The Got-Off-With-Money New York Mets owner. Wall Street shyster isn't just lucky with a councilman saying give the man a break. To invest 8 Billion here so he can further slice up New Yorkers’ money with a Gambling casino. He'll use for loans and not really drop money in as the housing structure is for storing money not circulating in New York either. Socialism For The Rich as Medical Insurance used to be. Why the exaggerated cooperation of raising prices too far over decades, was passed on to the pricing of taxing the taxpayers. Laziness and too many slicers amounting to greed. power taken from Doctors kills MEDICINE!  

    All that Gas Crap PR sold the public is a frame up, developed from well over a century ago. When oil executives further shredded capitalism making Standard Oil a monolith. Then competing with itself as the BIG OIL Monopoly faking till the Earth's been pushed too far where we are. Half hour tornadoes should be minutes. 

    But Planet Shredding Executive Empire insists faking Empire in Roy Cohn denial denial works because their pile to protect is important. All more important if circulating better. 

    Cut our throats out and don’t know where the money went? Three generations after it’s proven they’re not helping fix, while ruining the planet. Up your Hybrids. It’s okay. We should fix what the Family Burning Bush symbolizes, and their Dumpster Fire Conflagration represents. 

    Meanwhile? I am DOA because my website The Soapbox View became taller, as seen by more people. Uncensored by GOOGLE for the moment, perhaps? Their first censoring lasted two weeks. Three Review Requests. But algorithms cooperate eventually with whatever larger amounts of money want done with any citizen of the World & United States. Why play but my own server when Superior Power will dictate anyway. So John Paul Jones shooting from the hip’s taking out nonsense By Every Means Non-Violently Necessary. 

    So whenever is NOW! This is it The David Letterman. Malcolm - Charles M. Fraser’s Epitaph. Why David Letterman? Not like David Letterman’s a to be or not to be question. Though I rode the 201 East 17th Street elevator with Larry “Bud” Melman, July 4th, 1986 and he told me to deliver my Letterman Morning Show Poem to 30 Rock.  

    1980 I resigned walking away from my Orlando, Florida Warehouse Supervisor Position. The day I was told no more television on in the TV and Appliances Warehouse. The exact hour David Letterman announced his breakthrough morning show’s last week was next week. I watched and read historic novels. Warehouse wanted me back. Eventually became my one year researching New York City, May 1981-82. Where I came up with the idea to bicycle messenger, to think of what I wanted. That warehousing couldn’t accomplish, requiring more detailed attention. One year, I read a lot in elevators. The famed Detroit crime writer, Elmore Leonard really was exceptional at westerns before following the money. 

    Three years back in Florida, not expecting to return until New York “make it here,” accomplished, as Frank Sinatra sang. Now I’ve waited here in New York City for a woman near a year. Long story, too long to begin here, but it’s wrapping up. So this born Floridian is in NYC since May 14, 1985. People don’t let me forget I “talk different.” Except I also did six months Downtown Luxury LA Hotel Living. If desperate in 1999? No television $40 a week was possible. $100 Cable TV.   

    Father Boyle’s Gless Street Catholic Church among many availabilities for those with nothing against the formidable chaos of a delirious riding inflation economy free-willing into nothingness. All within the vicinity of a Ronnie Reagan Building of some kind or another. Representing Ronnie’s careless Pyramiding Promotionalism that facilitated the bottom falling off capitalism’s scale. PR Monopolists who didn’t gave a crap about anyone else but the conspiratorial money behind them. Witch Nancy and Ronnie were as incompetent as The Donald Dumpster is a historical fact. Get used to it. And even The Witch Nancy screamed, “They tried to kill my husband!” When the poor president’s assassination was attempted by another of the neuron flattened mental morons, manufactured by BUSH LEAGUE CIA Oil & Arms Elitists. See: British Petroleum/CIA Iranian revolution. 

As exposed in my personal case by The National Enquirer/CIA’s public exposure. Throughly, contemptibly, corrupt associations. Could only happen with the authorization of the New York State Attorney General, Letitia James. A NY State Attorney negotiated through me to get our friend Mike Hammer out from under complete culpability in the fraud to undermine my personal life. Not allowed to be my real friend, but such for going on 46 years now. Ain’t that an actual hoot? Enemy friend the whole merry-go-round. 

    Meanwhile? The BUSH Faction CIA remains confused what to do with me. Cornell University could probably attest to the conspiracy to nullify the scholarship of Charles M. Fraser. JK Fraser’s nephew that’s been a complete fraud for generations. My uncle “Advertising Legend” JK Fraser is a block on Cornell University’s Founders Wall with my Canadien Aunt Aurora. Even when compelled to hate me most? CIA controlled Mike’s friends knew my integrity could get him out from under, if Mike wanted. Mr. Hammer sue the Charlatan Roy Cohn conspirator David Pecker and what’s left of that charade. Take The Hustler out. Judges are good at not allowing scum to waste time. EXCEPT Look at that CIA Art Department National Enquirer Dumpster striptease of a court case. Moved along the conveyor belt idiot boys built themselves as a real conceited mess. All hail David Remnick and Si Newhouse’s lost soul Roy Cohn. Deliberate opt it fake liberal Dick Cheneys war industrial complex. 

    But going along to get along has been sliced off the bottom of financial flow. Working Poor no longer fit. Those with just enough feeding themselves with money, doesn’t work. Everything is now a Fortune or Living on The Dole. Capitalists pretending charity is others’ faults. Carelessly surfing inflation ahead into valued nothingness. Increasing Inflation’s Devastation beyond the bottom of capitalism’s circulational handling. Ignoring the principle of Foundational Secure Wealth. Not socialism. Fully circulating capitalism as claimed. Socialism should fill gaps. New York Real Estate went along. Nary a Legal Skirmish in the long decades of surfing inflation with New York City Taxation. Increasing yearly side-by-side with inflation. Smart. But flawed. Making today’s New York City prices appear what? Extravagant as hell to be precise. City and Real Estate combined! Escalated Scapegoating Inflation as no one’s fault - so just massacre ourselves with it. Accomplished! 

    In my all alone case though? I’ve resolved to accepting being cut down like the proverbial mythological cherry tree. That George Washington’s reported to have never touched. Expecting history’s ravishing, as there’s no fingerprints. Just me all alone. My own guillotine and I. Revealing ink purposely disappeared. While my neck’s left racked by me, myself and I. Accepting the necessity of: BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. My means? Non-Violent to even this extreme. 

We’re on! Dag gum spoiled-brats-of-the-world. 

    I’ve watched Facebook’s countless irrelevant censorings for 16 years. GOOGLE’s first disappearing THE SOAPBOX VIEW happened after thirteen. No fingerprints, per se, but The Big Picture is - throw in my towel. My meaning’s now clear. Simple and complete. Recognizing defeat is my scholarship’s role. As novelist, essayist, and studier of history. Opponents successfully erasing me is their Guilt Riddled Legacy. DENIERS they’ve Already Destroyed Planet Earth. Tornadoes were never meant to be half hour hurricanes. GET IT! That Legacy Polluting and Contesting the Earth’s Spoils has opposed my having any Literary Reputation my entire life. 

    So? Another hand? No. Round Two? Why? Another inning? I’m just sitting on Pitcher’s Mound. Extra innings? Get the catcher to yell at me. I don’t give a ____. Over-Time? Not interested. Serpentine Power devoiced my entire Literary Career over 60 years? Have another move, Oil-War Conglomerate Merchandising Checkerboard Department?  

    My move is My Hope For A Free Press. Charles M. (Malcolm) Fraser’s Funeral Pyre. Bright enough?

    Got me? Over sixty years. Visible by age six. Hated by Racist 1948 Groveland Four Murderer, Sheriff Willis V. McCall. Racism re-elected through 1972 when Federally removed. Otherwise he avoided me, and I rarely walked by his nearby house. My best friend warned, “just don’t.” Imagine that hate eyeing me from his window. I had screamed, crying, “I’ll sue him! Anyone who trains a friendly dog to bite.” The older kids laughed uproariously. Knowing the Sheriff was sued for a living. Three years later a son given keys, by his mother, ran by saying, “let’s go.” And I was inside The Shack. Shack specifically meant to look like nothing from outside. But was obviously where the Orange Growers, charted off profitably exploiting Workforce Blacks, played pool with the Larger Racist Figure. Sheriff McCall bragging about telling the, phone booth trapped, Union Man go or be killed. He ran. I’m still alive too. Go figure? 

    Found out. Figured out. Pieces added up, that meant puzzled meanings. Planted to supposedly confuse my ordinary GET A JOB life. Hurdles remain covered. But actually as was my intention, Open History’s been passed back down the line to me. From Glasnost General Secretary Mikhail Gorbachev. Because now? WELCOME. Glasnost Is For Everybody by Charles M. Fraser & Thomas Paine II. Open History as Gorbachev did for the Soviet Union. Inspiring Russia back into being. Went googley, as happened the previous Communist Revolution, of course. But time will tell. This essay, my turn, is hoped an example. Highlighting how the World’s Consciences were misshapen, accepting World Ruination. That require turned around. Environmental Damage Already Over Done. 

    Open History makes Common Sense. Hidden meanings, everything, all. Between the lines is how facing one's conscience is. And as beating me has proven so efficiently arranged? Why argue? By yourself, myself, everyone knows means - Done. However malignant my opposition is. People are trapped, conceiving devious solves things. In my case Unpublishable by Literature’s Guardians bought out by BEZOS etc, too! Small. GET A JOB! Don’t want The American People To Understand Anything my novel exposes. Makes sense then after sixty plus years after my childhood was obviously diagnosed - Most Wanted Enemy of White Boy Rule. I turned out The Blackest White Man Alive. Cool.  

    Embarrassed by my also being killed and martyred? Better left, just the set up Black Leader Martin Luther King, Jr. Rather than this white boy, Reverend Ralph T. Abernathy, King’s confidant, had a good time with. Hearing me describe the imagery of how everyone was used. Women could have been cooking for King, while he talked to his wife on the phone. Pervert J. Edgar Hoover was capable of recording anything. 

    We talked with my Junior High Basketball Coach Oscar Willis watching. Dag gum right don’t let this white boy mean more as a martyr. Martyr whose Black Funeral Home I was raised in, that financially supported my University Education. Less than a block from that Racist Groveland Four Murderer Dirtbag Sheriff. Considering Blacks have been martyred enough, my martyred alive kicks more crap out of Racist Illegitimacy. 

    Uh huh. My martyring’s purpose then is facing the idea that ruined consciences are shriveled and not being faced. Forty-six years ago I was handled as mentally confused, for what I’ve completed now. I was belittled and framed as a Marijuana Addict. When my poorly written, but accurate, 1978 Soviet and Russian History Senior Thesis described what Gorbachev eventually started seven years  later. Open History. Glasnost Soviet Union. Historians knew. Not new insight. Change could only happen by a decision from the very pinnacle, the top. Stalin’s World’s Most Powerful Boy. 

    But my social world had a family designed twist. Using psychiatrists as was commonly done. The Psychiatry Industry itself confessed that was often done by parents just wanting overwhelming complete control of the burgeoning adolescent. But I was a targeted adult at 21. There was the established sense, I wasn’t rational. Not pursuing a career and job. As I’d often been told I can’t say I’m going to “save the world.” Jesus Christ Saves Souls. I’m concerned with Earth’s Individual Rights. Obvious Idolized Man went to their little Dick Cheney Warheads. 

    I’d estimated for years it was just about a small family money amount and revenge. Definitely revenge and more. People just wanted me saying anything to use against myself. So eyeing me, bored basically. Kept out of class. Professor said forget dropping his. “No one in” his “classes” etc. Made me take the test and I made a D in that Medieval History course. So I never failed a class. Never went after the first either. Except told can’t drop, too late, took the test. If I’d asked someone what it was about? Could have made around 80 easy. But I was drained. Managed as creating a problem. 21 young. I learned. 

    The test was Multiple Choice about which tribe beat which to eventually becoming the Nation States of Europe. Amazing I hunt and pecked a D without a clue. I can remember shutting the book, the night before the test. Seeing I didn’t care so much for the earlier details of Predator Evolution.  

    Humanity through generations has intensified adversarial legacies into piddling not fully faced menageries. Even labeled legal, require fixing. Not just observing Earth shrivel. Killing our portion of the Universe. Can’t erase that fact. Our abuse already ruined this place, and the Ruining Polluters are confident of continuing without reversing what already is an EMERGENCY to reverse. 

    Take over another planet, high ambition. However guilty have their own consciences to face. What needs to happen? Stop just being about making mints of cash. Criminalizing each other for fun and profit. Solve and save our planet from our past mistakes’ repercussions.  Incarcerate me or Donald Dump!

    Get this? Napalm dropped on Vietnam equaled poisoned money in American pockets. Gasoline back-and-forth filling bank vaults. I’m beaten? Dick Cheney? Republican Donald Dump Idiocy is all of your faults. At very least - Neglect. The country collared not to face insight by Smoke-and-Mirror Fake Conservatism. Smudging history, running from history. Damned lying. Cronyism handed down from and before, Nixon Legacy. Nixon alcoholed his reality’s pain. President Andrew Jackson, a great president? Arrogant Racist too. 

    Contemporary History should face the not-at-all shaded Conservative Redundancy. Just cover for racist, jingoistic, tendencies. Hiding from getting away with many things. Racist deniers of their own racism are the worst. Tied to destroying the world with gas, weapons, war and violence. As in Political Strategist Lee Atwater on his deathbed. Begging God’s forgiveness for the Strom Thurmond Racist Wave he energized as State’s Rights Indifference. Documented confessing before he croaked. Actually the Racist Legacy is centuries in duration. Republican Writer Apologists For A Living, reading? While a Black Man on the U. S. Supreme Court documents how cool it is prospering with Honky Crackers. The South Shall Rise Again? Evil Parts just flush. Next question?  

    Richard “Dick” Cheney can question, but an answer all wrong. Devious as halfwit Henry Kissinger. The not understandable Jargon Facilitator. New York State Heroin Fiasco Stirrer Nelson Rockefeller’s Bishop-clothed Pawn. Mayhem-in-the-streets and prison scattering, slicing and dicing with ruthless competition everywhere. Establishing a mint the well funded like remaining illegal, where the checkers pay the price for prison’s being a source of more reinforced criminal behavior. Duh. Politicians running on throwing the book at criminals. THE BOOK is thrown at everyone. Judge not to be not judged. Nelson Rockefeller earned, and deserves, historically tagged convicted Vice-President Spiro Agnew Replacement. 

    The Glass Ceiling itself is an Imperial Castle of Boys trading favors. Henry “Figurehead” Kissinger. Kissinger Frees Iran’s Hostages on Reagan’s Inauguration Day. Revenge for the CIA’s Iranian British Petroleum Revolution. Blamed on President Carter who didn’t cause the crisis itself, himself. So Small-Town-Menagerie Ronnie Reagan giggles at the ground more! Showing how easy it all is for him. No kidding. War Mongrels of EX-vice president Dick Cheney’s stripe? Look up Black Sabbath’s WAR PIGS. His Highness George Bush II even advertised he couldn’t find anyone else as qualified as Little Big Militarized Oil-Chest Dick for Vice. Get it America? Just stepping stones to not their fault, but entirely, McDonald Dump Franchising. 

    So The Soapbox View numbers were still well enough below meaningful, to only make three advertising cents a day. Six hundred readers a day too many. Not even mere thousands. But taller by hundreds. Increasing Soapbox View visibility, finally revealed exactly who I am. What’s My Line, Anyway? The Real So and So Authentic Dartboard. Targeted long before Thomas Paine II picked up on liquidating myself. Work should be rewarded.  

    Deniability? Absolutely. Mission Impossible’s Mr. Phelps always smirked at his taped orders. Knowing “if you accept this mission” never mattered. Would have been cool if Mr. Phelps went Up In Smoke in Cheech and Chong’s film. Or didn't he? 

    I was easily handled with light taunting. Till hiding behind algorithm censoring, illuminated my shiftless depiction. History. Decades of serpentine erasure by irresponsible Scapegoaters Behind World Destruction. Not many names. So the guilty remain rocked, flattened consciences. Hiding and enthralled with their Public Relations Successes. Avoiding perpetuity’s facing in destroying the world for money that’s proven wrong. While done out of pure, outright, conceit. Dick Cheney should be in Mar-a-Lago Penitentiary. With Oil-Well Militarized Barbarian George the Second mimicking Winston Churchill. Painting portraits as if his infamy’s not deemed him Anglo-American Honky Cracker racist as hell too.  

    Meanwhile my guillotine bologna sliceable neck’s racked. Suspended head spinning in disappointment with devoutly rigid religious belief behind supporting Planet Destruction. Consciences not understood? Because wrong is scapegoating God. Seeing problems caused by us, as not all our faults. And GOD’s clean up, regardless, eventually. Same way flags get thrown under-the-bus. Real Patriotism faces sins that aren’t for covering up with nations’ flags. Otherwise, assuming forgiven is behind nationalist flags used as just more excuses for more predatory skims. Russian History is Warrior State ruling foreign Ukraine. Supplanting whole peoples under Stalin, and whole fields of otherwise plenty by Putin’s Crony Elitists.  

That Donald J. Dump is even running for president is totally wrong. So, under the circumstances? U. S. Ambassador to The Great Nation State of Australia, Caroline? May as well buy your father President John F. Kennedy’s Winter White House back from the Mar-a-Lago Penitentiary Don. TO LOCK ME UP! 

    Statist Corporate Elite Entities are driven alignments that Dump declared have undue influence? Deep state vs. deepish, deeper state? The World has many conspiracies of individuals. Funny an FBI employee prefers Dump not president, and that’s the excuse used to forage and portray that man as questionable and - The American Donald Dumpster defendable as deeply loyal to The Donald Dumpster. Right. Somewhere reading, you realize why I am not sued. Much more truth than just a Stormy Daniels Wash-and-Rinse out political relevance. 1. Already forgiven for being a heel, he was. 2. Displayed receiving the easiest supplied trials anyone of his ilk could ever want. Correct. 3. So decisiveness better have him slither off our country’s 2024 Presidential Election Ballot. Court of Public Opinion? VOTE NOW! Or oh please, oh please Caroline! The ignorant stupidity is killing me!

    Forgers of misshapen Nobleness, Kissinger and Cheney. Outright deceptive fronts. Predators forgiven just because they are Flagged as American Figureheads. As Dumpster claims is his right in perpetuity too. To be ignorant as Hell claiming, on Fifth Avenue, when asked what his religion is - answered the denomination Presbyterian. Proving he was neither raised Christian, nor curious at all what anything meant. As per usual, Donald John Dump. 

    Uh huh. Flags redundantly displayed on lapels is not Patriotism. Not objective when hiding exploitation is the sport Fake Conservatives are more than obvious perpetrating for generations. Designed an omnipotent unscalable entitled elitism. Capable of a dogmatism of unyielding authority. Overriding even allies and enemies at a whim. As exaggeratedly pompous as their, VERY OWN, theoretically put up with disgrace - Donald J. Dump. Across every country of the competitive world, elitism reigns. Where money’s the sovereign and just biggest owners kings ruling pawns. Playing Queen of the pawns. When all just checkers overrun by stupid Medieval Kings. Bill Ritters. Why all Queens and boys should be a part of all money’s circulation. Uh huh. But since we’re the stable productive Goliath, all’s copacetic right? Face Goliaths built just for war dominate World History, period.  

    Government is supposed to be a platform upon which populations function. Broader the better. As evidenced by the narrow interests of the CIA’s The National Enquirer. Still so proudly yet glaringly their eyesore’s bomb bursted hot-air. Parceled indifference. Calculatedly destroying Capitalism’s working to full social fruition. 

    Sure, the massive fault lines of disfunctioning government bureaucracy have to be survived as DITTO Commercial Bureaucracy. All. Big targets, both. If Fake Conservatism had some kind of nuanced change for the past redundant century they could claim the value of the conservative outlook. They smother daily with ritualized jargon shrouding any relation to the public’s understanding exactly what shape the lying is all about. Case Closed. Boy Kingdom virtually buttressed by arrogant Conservative Republican Bulwark. Saying defeating liberalism at all costs saves their Lying American Patriotism. Honky Crackers can only yearn not to burn you arrogant denying racists! People like gorgeous CIA Mobster Bill Ritter. Even if innocent of just that? He’s so guilty he can’t defend himself at all. Like all GOD damned racists! Dr. Armand Hammer’s Spiritual “Burning Soul” Bill. 

    Politics as Calisthenics for Fun. Framing Far Left Imagery as an enemy. While parading their worming-their-way-around, defacing the name Republican. Their compromising established Welfare as not invigorating poor families. Welfare was compromised into a dole system with less purpose than could have been originally designed. People that make mistakes, just repeat stepping in mistakes. Documented everywhere. As done with flags, symbolizing that patriotism can be used to hide from everything. DONALD DUMP! The insinuation of a nation absolving ourselves of any sins is wrong hiding behind the flag. Our honorable flag as Colin Kaepernick demonstrated. Don’t tell me, while sneezing into the flags held over your butts. Separation of Church and State is also about holding God above our own idolized esteems. Amazing the things lost in our translating ourselves. Just bad lingering legacies from poisoned generations. One after the other into the next. Dump is angry. Dump is a selfish baby angry his bottle doesn’t reach his mouth without his witch’s help.  

    How before now, was the ante upped on my scalp? Happened from my name appearing in The New York Times Book Review twice. Forming my public placed footing, and plug I’m pulling. However minute. Because a third time does not even matter. A whole historical drain’s already been flushed. By my just revealing myself a Still Standing Victim. Or discarded essayist by readers just reading this. 

    History’s Welcome Mat. REMOVED but remains Contemporary History because history’s trickling advance does not stop. Actually BLOCKED. Or momentarily unblocked as carried out by hyped “save the world” GOOGLE. Plus faceless meta-FACEBOOK. Should be devastating small evidences of commitments to ruining my FREE SPEECH that’s haunted my entire life. The Office politics? We are a Tyranny of Near Enough Executive Desks, plus News Desks all over the country smiling propagandistically through empathetic fake faces as Bill Ritter constantly does. Oh that face spouts - Aren’t we lucky Big-Oil’s Militaristic Complexities still allow our tagging along on their self-destructing world economy. Their Facts saw me 60+ years ago away. 

    An intended Literary Career shadowed an entire life? Feel putzed? Sure. Be that as it may, however Thomas Paine small or tall. Thomas Paine II vs. World Monarchy? Who cares? Thomas Paine II’s Envelope just pushes from the bottom up anyway. Bill Ritter a checker unaware yes - you’re a humiliation as men’s idolization. Good. I can’t hate people. But hate everything ALL ABOUT BILL RITTER.  

    My shadow? Recognizable as such since at least high school senior year, 1975.  I’d tormented myself for days. Laughed a little standing up. Interrupting the instructor before our first Americanism vs. Communism class. Said, “I apologize, I have to speak before you do.” 

    Explained we should just prove Capitalism, not weaponry. The Soviet Union can’t even swim their way out of a wet paper bag. Not having financial flow messed up their messed up interpreted socialism. Stalin made himself ruthless god. Secure enough US financial flow is how the Soviets beat themselves. Soviets played equality super badly with financial realities. Reagan joked weaponry’s alright with him. Jimmy Carter’s smile vs. self effacing Military Industrial Empire Spokesperson. Our teacher cried. I felt bad. Next day she announced the Guidance Councillors, including Baltimore Colts’ Lamar Richardson, no less, decided no more of that class next year. But continues now? Thank you. 

    What I’d actually done? I’d spoken up in one storm's center. Subcontractor Land of The Military Industrial Complex, Central Florida. Where War Contractor Martin-Marietta even dabbled building Walt Disney World’s first monorail. While still today, having never been in the Transportation Business. Remaining utilitarian useful to brag better weaponed America’s a Goliath, the world siphons from accordingly. Especially Skimming Monarchies of every political stripe and persuasion. Netanyahu, etc. Notice the obvious? How just loaning each other the weapons and being done with it, is never the equation. Just more money for more money. Dig in. Dig(understand)?

    Notice the Huge Industrial Mass that could have transitioned, even a little bit, into building a More Efficient Monorail America? From inception a Disney World train to Orlando, or Orlando train to DISNEY would have connected the entire state. A foundation of trains existed. Generations later? One, not monorail, is built from a Suburb of Ocean Mecca Daytona Beach to just Orlando. But not that extra itsy little bit to Walt Disney? Not facing completing a more Wonderful Tourist Paradise, as good and better than advertised for going on now the past three generations. Fifty plus years. Still, Stone Cold Mediocrity. Imagine what Walt Disney was capable of if he’d not died young? Uncle Walt and I might have met. Though child I was a sore thumb, voice, from the moment the design for the circular Disney World Monorail appeared. I visited the Lake Buena Vista Preview Center twice. I yelled, “I’ve already been.” My mother responded, “You’re going again.” Bless her. 

    No, not funny! Generations hiding from the truth that too much gas is spilled on our National Speedway Super-Highway Parking Lots. While NASCAR was a forerunner of automotive progress till not at all. Still prone, generations on, engorged inside Oil Spewing Mobile Thrones. Wait’ll NASCAR reaches a thousand miles per hour, then they’ll achieve hugest pains in the … . Race? People are there to see accidents made to happen. NASCAR, aren’t there any consciences in there? 

    And constant spillage over our entirely overburdened, and battered,  tortured Sea Food Plantations. Across every sea, and waterway, on the planet. Highways, and the even more than necessary sidewalks etc. Stopping more water not being properly absorbed by the Earth than is safe. We are dangerous. Additionally notice too much of everything has already been taken from the planet’s core. Wobbling the Earth! Why Global Warming Calculations are noticeably faster than previously calculated. Either reverse or Complete Destruction is already facilitated. Already guaranteed. Look-at-the-weather. It’s not just bad. The Weather is seasonally compounding worse. 

    Politically confused is not a sufficient scapegoat excuse. As that’s, more than likely, not how judgment works. Look at results. We forgave ourselves and continue devastating the planet. Advertise being gotten to within decades. So Gas slowly resolves their defenseless disgraced images in Full Public View as Marketplace Rulers endowed with the right to destroy the world. Guilty Whores! No consciences! 

More decades playing within The Big-Oil Economy Rules. Their history is purposely devastating economies all over the world. No matter how well the top is bought-off. While blaming the rich for their traps, is only barely partially correct. For the most part, people don’t get choices about the carrots they receive to exploit. Had enough gluttons? No, apparently not! 

    Hence All Gas Engines sold the last ten years are present tensed future losses. Expected to last, ruining the world. How long will excuses dominate our riddled vacuous consequences? Understanding what needs reversing, is history’s victory for us. While our loss is not facing our already not faced selves. 

Regardless. My severed neck and foot are an indent to crack a historical façade. The novel The Hammer and Cycle Messenger Service was Conglomerate, from-pivoted-money-top, Major Publishing blocked. This whole past pivotal generation as we evolve to this. Al Gore and I blocked. Stolen from The American People by Lazy Oil’s Militarized Jargon Wealth! But proven not completely effective. As, over a decade ago, the Australia National Library’s Digital Internet Preserve preserved my novel “in perpetuity.” 

    Facing modern tyranny’s nature? I saw my reflection in American Founding Father Thomas Paine’s COMMON SENSE. Facing down the Mad King Georges’ heirs. Waking the American Oil Colonized Public to how flaws are flexibly fixed despite the malignant ignorance by the well-financed oil destroying industry. George H. W. Bush valueless figurehead in chief until Bill Ritter decides Bill’s worth more and gives state’s evidence or something. Liker Dump only as valued as Lying Bill lasts. Naked Bill! 

    I imagined Thomas Paine again facing a Flawed Labyrinth. Mistakes ruining fuller, complete, financial flow. Stopped is my lighting the stage that socialism’s supposed to work filling in capitalism’s gaps. Notice that Hospitals and Insurance are broken needing to charge $3,000+ to pay for one $250 worth of a first time doctor exam visit? 

    That’s billions of dollars flying every-which-a-way. Misplacing any and everything. Physicians and Socialized Medical Insurance are just Mathematics. Doctors’ decisions should have never been undermined, where money’s more important than the medical answers we overpriced all ourselves. Power squeezed by Executive Reign. As maddened as Mad Great Britain’s Mad King. High Prices compromised decades before slicing up Obamacare. Michael Moore’s SICKO! Compromise control. Who knows, really, who “they” are? Money’s faceless admission of nothing. Nada. Roy Cohn Deny Nothing Rules.

    I’m being censored down slow to appear marginal at best. Irritating little people. Unworthiness test Big Publishing accorded, ignoring me, Roy Cohn Don’t Face Your Own Infamies Style. Not denying coercion by watching my squashing me too. Funny Lenin’s Tomb author, and The New Yorker Honcho, David Remnick can’t face me in print or Public. As Conde Nast his boss is a Devoted Legacy to Dead potentate Si Newhouse’s buddy Roy Cohn’s _SShole! CIA CREEPS! Loved Mr. Remnick’s book. In fact his taking the plunge and riding along, truck of valued contraband, on the underground money railroad enabled feeling where one jugular plunge was. But screw you Devoted to Celebrity W___e David Remnick!

    Just Mr. Nobody. Paperback Writer and The Fool On The Hill as THE BEATLES intoned. Now the few who‘ve read The Soapbox View became too many? Fine. Censorship History is secrets scatter confusion. Up yours again Si Newhouse’s boner! History about who, how many and where. Witch and when Shakespeare illustrated. My explanation? Granite Male Hierarchy Malaise insists homage is their due rule - anyway. Chips off old blocks. David Remnick is The Picture of Male Figurehead Dorian Greys. Speak against all of it, but you helped my enemies! Si Purgatory at best, EGO ABOVE ALL David Bill Ritter Remnick! 

    Boys like pretentious David Remnick propped on righteousness bout devoted to destroying me you Princetin jerk. Malcolm Forbes warned me all of you are everywhere. Princeton his alma mater too. Take away Remnick’s diploma, or up yours too Great State of New Jersey Chris Christie Princeton! The ridiculousness of that propped up intellectual. Smart as hell for being Idolized as getting to moderate. But helps the world? Remnick as professional complainer is like all American Politics became, care of idols like David Remnick stirring their particular bacterial strains. Lenin’s Tomb’s can suffer being thought of as propped up David Remnick’s bowel movement. Get it pretentious The New Yorker magazine employees. All of you checkers of David, Si, and the Idol Roy Cohn you’re all condemned supporting by being in their pay.

    Admiring their own predilections for profit and not stopping violence.  Netanyahu should have been excoriated bye the world p[ress long before this. GO TO HELL All Publishing + David Remnick and all the accessories to Netanyahu getting away with pretending he’s a Jew! 

    Going back near enough 30 documented centuries at least. Before and after Jesus Christ roundly displaying the ridiculousness of women having prostitution as their only economic outlet. And be blamed for it! Because men’s valued power never grew up from belonging to just the boys. Left War Game carnage-for-profit proceeds for the cream off the top. Complain Remnick, you have such style. George Plimpton wrote a hand written response to a disposable hammer and cycle draft. The New Yorker answered Roy Cohn is up David Remnick’s _SS!

    Why a Donald Dump beat a much, much more qualified woman who received more American votes. Electoral College, the culprit. Except deeper. Reasons as to why that backstop was written, were an added protection, for smaller states. That’s coincidentally racist ruthless manipulation as originally intended. Meanwhile? No one’s required to repeat the vote in the Electoral College, for a Verified Traitor as happened in 2016. Yes hidden.

    GOOGLE, for moment, uncensored me. Three times requesting indifferent review. Finally a person/woman? Means people with enough money are mad and programmers have algorithms prefer people not upset. Less exposed hiding from the truth. Behind Algorithms gets what? Got what?  

    My removal from the Internet, can obviously overpower. Starts easily enough. Clicking Against Community Standards is where Feuding For A Living starts. Experts, hobbyists, great-grandma who’s never even seen the Internet. Easily enough click curtail any speech. The formula is to compete with your own Server. Someone else’s money or own. Why? My history is how economically ruined my life was programmed roundabout me. So my expressive voice is complete. Transparent enough hidden fingerprints imprinted precisely on my guillotine resting neck. Contemporary History 101, made it.  

    History’s written to directly influence history. The disappearing ink fingerprints on President John F. Kennedy? Guess what? Legacy dropped in Charles M. Fraser’s lap. And I’m dug in. Names? Criminal Actors face their own consciences, alone. Today the question avoided, has been clearly scapegoated three solid generations. Reversing the ramifications of what’s not been faced, these last three generations is paramount. As Donald Dump demonstrates. Who gives a crap, pieces of crap can sit in court evading responsibility however long they get. He’s a ridiculously terrible joke. 

    Good consciences in Big-Oil-Militarily-Spy-Twisted-Commerce? Change ruining Our Planet’s Place in the Universe. My conscience is faced, facing everyone. My censored, makes what right exactly? Nice. Weren’t afraid while disabling this martyr. So low beneath Financial Jingoism that strategists haven’t bothered yet with the Open Violent Racists handling me, yet? Uh uh. Kill me. Sue me. Who gives a crap. Faced myself. Good luck, Violent Hobby Boys. 

    My historical place is only as good as what my martyrdom represents. Insult, I’m still not worth assassinating. Sixty years proving me paranoid delusional simpleton, or something, that’s inoperable because I won’t get a better job eviscerating my own work from my own memory to pay for their operations on me. Because everyone knows no one man alone can save the world. People say while MILLIONS ARE ALREADY INVOLVED SAVING THE WORLD. Tree Huggers, damn them? And millions involved paying each other destroying paradise, furthermore. 

    Since I am just me it was safe not noticing me. Hilarious. I always wait on cops who’ve found a good story to read when PEACE OFFICERS look my Police Record. Between the lines? Historians will see red ones form whole maps. When so many good people were murdered, why not me? Don’t allow my statistic? A crafted muddled brain assassinated John Lennon. Sirhan Sirhan contrived to sever Bobby Kennedy. Jerry Rubin assassinated by car in Hollywood. And I  was taken to stand on that exact spot by the LA Bicycling Community. Chicago 8 Yippee Partner, Pioneer Abbie Hoffman? Suicide soon after jail release. So Abbie Hoffman jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, killing himself while holding Tuli Kupferberg’s hand. History controlled. Many silenced voices kept from being involved in a culturally advancing evolving America. “Just hippies.” Get it America? America had to hide from ourselves. Think about facing that.  

    Absolutely not kidding! Influential minds were stopped from participating in the Evolution of American Culture and Thinking. Controlled what’s needed reversing to save our planet Earth. Reverse!

    Leveling symbols. Hiding the disgrace of profit from violence. While diplomatically clicking glasses at night. Portrayed as sophisticated grace.  Henry Kissinger’s scores with women were Celebrity Entertainment Fodder when he was situated as a strategic device. Installing Big Henry’s Eras. Built him up as America’s Dumped Mayor Rudy Giuliani expected the same leverage. But his Cesspool is much less containable than the dubiously honored higher status symbol, Court Jester Kissinger. Time has come today, Henry Kissinger. Nixon opened China? Henry Kissinger opened Nixon’s butt on China. George Bush the First became first ambassador to Beijing so China abandons the bicycle a generation later. The bicycle the country already functioned very well on. Thoroughly documented China, not needing to foul itself so thoroughly for those few bucks more sitting in car traffic jam parking lots. 

    Nixon opened China? Both Kissinger and Nixon sealed the door on Stalinistic Tyrannical Rule by Figurehead Convenience. Capitalism is for blossoming not undermining overseen by skimmers. When just protecting the Public and real profit is sufficient. People of all political stripes get trapped. Glass houses - Top heavy glass-ceilinged Washington, D. C. and Beijing and … .  

    Authoritarian Toll Taker Henry Kissinger. Friend of Arabs while their professor at Harvard, supposedly. Saudis should have generations ago DONATED Solar Panels to all the countries all across The Great Sahara and Palestine. Lighting Israel, Europe and Africa too, making money. Solar Panels in Afghanistan circulating Russia for money. Have money flow. Not just Gang Bang the Planet with your fellow force-fed prestigiously rich and satisfied destroyers. Oil’s already killed the world. You’re still holding the weapons, however much PR can leave remain unfixable undone.

    Global Warming Denying is a Pacifier in Liars’ Mouths. PERIOD!

    Donald Dump Campaign Donations can leap through the criminal’s roof now. That’s right, Scapegoaters all over the world. Pacified by that undigested malignant catastrophe, Fronting World Mediocrity. The Face of Self-idolized Donald Rump Roast. Angry he’s finally prosecuted for something when caught incorrigible his lifetime ago. No kidding! 

    That The Dumpster wasn’t locked up January 6, demonstrates too much confusion generated by him. Well beyond his petty incompetencies and unqualified distortions. What’s covering him up? A Celebrity Buffer has shielded THE DONALD for 40 YEARS with State and Federal Government evidence existing to LOCK HIM UP! 

    Fake Conservatives are DOCUMENTED bragging they won’t let that happen again. As happened to Nixon. Their Stalin would not go down a second time. Well documented idiocy of arrogantly proud War Pigs. Look up BLACK SABBATH.

    Middle East Poverty is behind the perpetual misery of revenge. The Dragon of the Middle East - Perpetual Revenge. Netanyahu? A conscience gave up the Holy Ghost long ago. Trained Militarist, in the army, right out of high school. To do nothing else. Utter Shame of Israel. Benjamin “Bibi Gun” Netanyahu. See the beauty of looking at what not facing ourselves represents? Revealed is Revenge’s never ending useless cycles. Muslims Behind Violence? Can beat their Israeli planted confusions forevermore too. Blame me as devious Americans do. Running from facing their deliberately confabulating twisting of our U. S. Constitution. Masculinely Poisoned Riddled Boy Rule. Mohammed is documented as Prophet but Imams took the Religion as theirs before he died. As exhibited in today’s result of the breaking of golden rules not to kill and rule with violence.   

    Complaining explaining they’re The Federalists. Interpret this! Patron Saint Roy Cohn’s Spirit is your 100% Reagan Idolatry. Nonsense still wrongly percolating American Politics. Because thought was channeled for simplistic ease. Just as Stalin destroyed Russia designing what’s easiest for The Drunken King. Ruling scapegoating everyone else as wrong but him. President and Prime Minister Putin’s precursor, the personally blamed idol. From President Putin’s own mouth. I go on. 

    New Facebook Group Managers popped up before the 2020 Presidential Election. Performing Public Service hiding Donald Dump’s a disgrace. While hometown racism’s legacies hadn’t wanted my freely speaking anyway. Decade back anti-racism Facebook Posts on Southern White Churches’ pages? Gained blocked experience. For telling people racism is not a political issue. Though politics is involved. Roundly claimed as right to not be bothered by politics. Racism’s legacies are cultural issues though, period. PERIOD. Politics itself a specific cultural item. Politics torches racism for-all-practical racist purposes. Status quo waddling along. Allowing the sense of winning the right of indifference. As all that’s required is a “Don’t Talk Politics” Sean Hannity Jargon U. Degree. Or less. “All wrong not ending what Slavery caused, besides building America.”

    Twitter’s first Light-Block of The Soapbox View was solved by simply proving a human clicked human. Happened April 18, 2024. Quadrupled since. FACEBOOK access out. Hamburger Helper meet Guillotine Delight. Simple formal hurdles mean look - Paranoid Delusional. If I believe I’m watched. Of course. And offending little people with my irritability over personal squabbles. Game went on years, gigglingly picking at me. 

    Especially don’t mess with established properties of Network Value. So the Internet is freed for untroubled Totalitarian Delight. Scared of TikTok? Competition. Basically clear. No one can be trusted. Move on. Fix something about that. The world is a Criminal Enterprise System. Jails everywhere should be where Donald Dump could enjoy himself. Then maybe more dams can unclog. Stop pretending disfunction can't be gotten out of our systems at least a while. Thing is mindless as all hell. Criminal Mega-Star Al Capone retired really well. Without any idea of what happened at all. Copacetic bliss with no responsibility for actions at all?Buffered by insanity. Bottom Line Mar-a-Lago Donald Dump Penitentiary can hold a few too. 

    Notice the faces of Donald Dump’s prodigies? Insisting on due respect. Imagine them in an actual Catholic Church Confessional? A riot. Call The Media. As thoroughly disgusting looks as their idly Idolized Dad shows. Arrogance in complete false attitude. And worse is that allowed validity in a Giggly Bush Witch mornings on NBC’s The Today Show. Imagine The Bush Spawn too, as The Donald Dump’s children would be at their proverbial mirrors. “Let me see yours. That’ll trample the peasants.” Something like that. And that son-in-law? Jared Kushner certainly was in Israel toasting Netanyahu before The Mad Prime Minister started shooting off all his Bibi Guns.

    Fact is even Real Estate Professionals in McDonald Dump’s Empire Tower knew about historically isolated me. 1986. Pick up. His floor. The Private Golden Elevator Operator happily greeted stunned me. Up we went inside The Golden Elevator. Out, not another step. “Nothing here.” I stood by the elevator. Passing man mumbled, “we just wanted.” I looked at Dump’s, empty of him, corner office. Huge window noted. Rode down alone. Company I worked with started with their limited, up against the wall, option of a loan of some stolen American money from Criminal Russian hands in the D(Tr)ump Tower tenant. 

    The Federal Government has always known. Prosecutions of others illustrate he’s a Landlord responsible for acting so dumb. But The Donald always had, and played, his Celebrity Card Flaw. Teflon John Gotti to a T and to this point, or else. According to New York Law? All Donald Dump World can be confiscated now. The Menagerie Flaw the moron rides as publicity, that’s disorienting is straight out of again January 6. Just being a routine destabilization scheme. Dump Scheme all along. 

    A conflated Storm(y) of a Soap Opera. Made for digesting by Boy Figurehead News Desks expounding Male Privilege. That disgusting Donald Dump voice-over obliterating God Bless America. Right. Didn’t know what his tenants did? New York knew. Country didn’t but better. 

    Right Now look! A Stormy Soap Opera for Presidential Election Review. Coincidence could be in care of The National Enquirer CIA BS Art Department. Definitely not in court for what Donald Dump is most irresponsibly guilty for. Called gamesmanship. New York State needs to up the Battlefield Ante. To where The Dumpster’s Repulsiveness is actually reekingly Center Stage. Because America? The McDonald Dumpster Now? The Donald is a Huge Billboard of a Passport for forgiving ourselves anything that is a lie. 

Shoving Donald Dump down history’s drain is my privilege. Plus Loyal American Responsibility. Donald Dump? Guess who’s knocking? I know my way around the Foley Square Courts. Messengering. Any door you’re behind, Donald Dump? I’m knocking. Yesterday waited five hours out front of Court with THE PRESS. Wearing my Roy Cohn Doorstep Hammer and Cycle Reading shirt, as worn for both the 2016 and 2020 elections Donald Dump poisoned. 

    Knocking on you, Mr. Dump. Probably even know your circle-jerk Pervert buddy Rudy Giuliani, as a witness told me, was always very well known. Desperate to Harem Pack, Rudy Giuliani. Pimping for himself in the New York Legal Center neighborhood. This century accused of having a Secretary Prostitute. Then not pay her. Man literally had himself described as the most ethical politician on the planet. Ah, the stories they’ll tell at Camp Mar-a-Lago Penitentiary. Come on? Give em all a chance. 

    New Yorkers were honestly surprised the country couldn’t realize, how really, New York’s always known Donald Dump’s just a criminal. Right, criminals hid him here. Go figure.  

    Vicious Sharks and sharking White Whales already illustrate Donald Dump’s Outside-Inside-Outside Jail. Same as Big-Oil letting ruthless Dr. Armand Hammer in on their ruining more of the planet with Big-Oil too. Three Mile Island Nuclear Mistake? Hammer owned that. Started his Soviet, 1920s, Union fortune by digging asbestos from the Earth. Dug up a lot of stuff. Dr. Armand Hammer bragged in print. Bragged a Train Station Master collecting his usual bribe was shot for Hammer by Hammer’s Comrade Party Friend. Yep. Not politics. Communism was a party for associates as capitalism is. And made of here in our United States. Using Communism as a Front For Debauchery. Idea of just counting the money right? Unfortunately just transparently clear. 

    Server War would save my voice after GOOGLE is forced to let me disappear anyway, eventually. Not their fight. Fine. Obvious dead meat. Scapegoat Delight. Stolen phone, I’m not begging to temporarily prop up my bankrupted self. Government Dole can buy phone but is time. Even Social Security would have something in my pocket. Mentally wrapped up till done and figured out. Wrapping me up this way was done before and after Thomas Paine II started. System penalize my not bothering? Go ahead. Who isn’t. I’m gone. Unless “No Comment” has me stay after this Essay Pamphlet’s Release. 

    So meta-Fake Facebook deems me not financially solvent human without cellphone connected life. Fine. Don’t admit to being among boys in on framing me. However FACEBOOK self-admits FACEBOOK is Guilty. 16 years of algorithms claiming to have never met me before. Several, through the years, Passport Proofing my identity. Get lawyers? You got it. History don’t need no stinking lawyers. TMZ sue me! Funny, right?

    Not arguing with Naked Emperor Mark Zuckerberg. Crowned, throned as pivoted kings are. Boy Empire Just Circulating Money Across Economies’ Tops. Devastating smaller business, as often as not, based on whim or no room left for much, or anything, else. Stifled competition. But hiding is Not The American Way. So Omnipotent Money’s Public Relations has sway. In their Open Courting where they feel safest in. So Omnipotent Money wavering under it’s own weight, often conceals from their own selves the proper things. Defending power for powers’ sakes. OPRAH was allowed to be Queen? We’ll see. Sorry, Ms. Winfrey. 

    OPRAH FOR PRESIDENT! Gayle King, Campaign Manager. Vice-President Kamala Harris For President too! 

Money hasn’t circulated well enough, throughout circulation. As very large amounts have little overall, meaningful relevant enough, circulation at all. Evasive Competing among Executives, and lower, moved wherever they need each other shifted for the most amounts of money lifted. Competition yes. But nothing to do with capital moving all around. Moved from company to company till LET GO themselves with golden Parachutes. Sharing scavenged wealth for themselves all alone. Executive Money jumbled, and bumbled, by not evolving much different from Honky Crackers Rule. Tilting us off a properly circulating economy from completely happening.  

    Uh huh. Boys Rule Facebook may sound like The Good Times are meant to always roll. But this Essayist surmised, doesn’t include women. That’s circumstantially why I’d be facetiously liquidated. No matter how hid behind algorithms Mark Zuckerberg can claim? And I believe Mr. Mark Zuckerberg. But you’ve not done crap about illegitimate voice on FACEBOOK. In addition revealing Scapegoat Know Nothingness by my being digitally assassinated by Facebook itself. For the pathetic reasoning FACEBOOK and Meta-Head Mark both picture themselves, both above and beyond everyone and anything else. Good luck with that as they say.

    Thing is the essence of the monster is hiding behind logarithms that never lose the targeting touch. First little citation by someone, out there, anywhere, who might be against whatever disclosure’s not wanted debated? Can kick the perpetual can. Labeled hostile personality. Fight’s refereed over money. Solution, buy better voice = Server. No. Own Mark Zuckerberg, just an example.

Money has been laughed about, around, and at me for over two generations at least. My lazy cop out others defined as not competently, financially, sound. As worthless as ended up? Not stumped, just merely astonished. “NO COMMENT.”

Not trying hard enough to conquer money. Get A Real Job. Easily well enough done, raised from my economic class. I should have never been anywhere near poor. And now! Extra financially insolvent. Making nothing. Without the time to make a little money that always stopped me before from finishing up my writing everything up as I’ve finished NOW. 

    For the moment? Call me as worthless as anyone cares. Done with anyone pretending I’ll be paid enough to get out from under the hole so well dug just for me. Soap Opera Digested the last year, by People of Good Consciences and Love of My Life. I allowed my worthless depiction? Busy and wasn’t bothered, per se. 

    Third mention earns A Plug. I delivered in the 2000 aughts for PR Consulting to prestigious Per Se restaurant in Columbus Circle. The Kitchen Manager said, “Hey.” Huh. “I know you think you can, and do do whatever you want.” Straight line fastest. “But when you come here, you can’t just go down that hall around the corner. You have to ask me first.” Only guy I enjoyed that with. I used a church bathroom on my regular routing at least once a week. Man-in-charge demanded I ask him first. I grinned knowing I’d never return. He realized that too. An open church is permission. Good grief. 

    And if Pierre invites us to the restaurant, we’ve made it Sade. Forget what he said once, together waiting for his personal apartment building elevator. Like he had to say at least something. To not get remembered uppity. Funny. Pierre Roget, PR Consulting. New York’s Advertising Clothier To The Stars. 

    Especially worthless. My programmed life resolved to surviving extremely deadbeat this past year. Except the computer. To somewhat observe fact. Rather than obvious indifferent framing. Learned to survive without money adequately enough already.  

    Recognized failure for my novel The Hammer and Cycle Messenger Service not making money? Is a verifiable enough workable distinction. Seen coming. Why the novel was always available Internet Free Reading from the beginning. People need the right to know answered. A decade later? A Riot Media of intimates still encouraged finding something else to do. World actually needs my novel’s objective outlook. But also needs my remaining near enough invisible. Wrote that disregarded book. Now find anything else. Authors aren’t allowed to sit on one. Publishers decide OBITUARIES. Dead Book go away. DIE dead! Be Gone are gone. Let to be over, be over. Get a real job with money that stays ahead. Don’t do anything more with that book. My not being up to social standards had me stupid in rational eyes. Acted out, nicely nicely, perpetually. Redundancy just slid by. 

    Realize - Don’t do anything about that financially unsupported book anymore. Don’t be who I already meant myself to be. Seriously, I was told. Slapped upside the head. Smacked, POW. Knocked delirious by noted Biographer Robert A. Caro who woke many American Minds to corruption’s nature. Planted me on that sidewalk goofier than Disney’s Goofy. His eyes towering above mine. From his way up yonder, as tall as he is. Leaning down to look in my eyes. No kidding. Eyes piercing mine loudly. Beyond words, said be who I am. Wow. Mr. Caro put my hammer and cycle card in his coat pocket, as I watched it meant for there.  

Still busy not amounting to anything. Stopped using money, years ago still housed and fed. Then Ubereats shredded what people earned. I was put on an available free food plan. That soon enough didn’t matter. Then enough for rent and bills no longer either. Yelled at for that. Finally shredding complete. Screamed at. Shaken heads at. Work for other company. Colluders in a Two-Company Monopoly. Now pitching free labor as customer enticement. Pretending to compete. The competition for labor that independent laborers already set up? Destroyed by Big Money and turned Corporate Head Irresponsibility. Happened and motorcycles ended up scaring the public more, still. Defaming actual bicycles. The Better Machine working with for us, buried. 

    But by this point, Uber’s just in line. No kitchen sinks but actual Center Stage. An actual Upper West Side Manhattan Soap Opera for of all things to involve bottom resolved me. A Real Soap Opera. But not fiction. Non-Fiction Soap Opera conveyed as my contriving. That I should feel extremely embarrassed about causing. Heard the one about the high school senior in 1975? Announced American Militarist Industrial Charade, with fellow Big-Oil Weight-Lifting Medal Chesters in the Soviet Union should simmer down. 

    Money’s always a concern. So, though surprise, somewhat expected my adventure includes a Broadway Staged Soap Opera about a SUPERSTAR. Longest Play ever likely. I mean continuous waiting for the stars to talk. We’re standing on the edges of our seats! Everything and everyone, including audience, waiting on the Fat Lady to sing nine months and starving. Dragon woke late seeing everything he’s believing just as Big-Oil’s done contriving can’t blame them. Electric Provided For All Vehicles Everywhere. STOP BEING IN THE FUTURE’S WAY, please? 

    The sky fell on Henny-Penny when I heard yelled across the baseball field, “He knows you’re his enemy now.” I am he and it was about me knowing My Friend Mike Hammer is definitely of THE The National Enquirer CIA Legacy. The National Enquirer founded and funded by The CIA. Bush Section relative guess. My eyes had been opened to his actual extracurricular role. Inside outside my life. Wow. Somehow embedded that far, just too surreal. Now Surrealistic Pillow. Relax. Confusion abounds, worth settled down. 

    In my face, week before? Mike glared hard in my eyes. Before I even knew, conceptually realizing roundabout. Aiming his hard eyes through mine at my brain. Mike “The National Enquirer” Hammer said, “believe me.” I’m ruined if I didn’t remain care-taken. Where the little I made was saved for retirement I never wanted. Don’t move - Bubbled Boy. Below her economic status, anchored as such. Not making enough, proudly wanting anything saved for her retirement goals. Made honorable sense. 

Boxed recluse. Just redundant inconvenience to intellectual life. But the lifetime of research hit over 16 hour written days. Beyond what she was led to comfortably expect. Shouldn’t I seek psychiatric help? When attempts to lock me away were unsuccessful twice before? Forty years ago? To delay and stop what I’m doing precisely now. Speaking up. Normal person subject to Big Brother never made sense to me, quite so much either. Except it is me. And looking around? “Time Has Come Today,” The Chambers Brothers sang so eloquently.  

    Surviving on little enough became refined. Clarity offered by a New York State Attorney. Caring his childhood friend Mike be left something. Anything. Asking where she was, he pinpointed my attention on the ritual of Mike Hammer, standing with her, waiting, at the counter, for purchased food for me. Meant something. Tsk tsk pretentious. Always encouraged her feeling good, concerned for my welfare. I feel worse people used her. Used me to use her. Terrible. Screamed she never talked to Mike. Exposed Secret World, The National Enquirer. INFORMATION USED, BUT NOT PUBLISHED behind backs - generations. Explains Mike’s friendly simple look, and kind grimace. We’re understanding friends I’m a loser, everyone kindly tolerates. Probably could even bubble up I think I’m from Mars, had me so eluded till not. CIA funded The National Enquirer Mike. Our friends including me all love you. Thing about not telling me things is, if I need to know I find out. Our friends knew. 

    Decade ago was a real humdinger of a TOTAL TV Times Square Party Reunion, huh Judy? Mike sitting next to me before seven people, publicly doubting I knew a celebrity in The Elton John Band. CIA intelligent? Enough money to buy all the vowels, but still not ethical clues? I told stories including visiting Guy Babylon’s family’s Maryland home, while in college. Mike wasn’t allowed another job. I get it. 

Don’t blame anyone as we’re all Americans is a con job. Americans have been chiseled into accepting really shrewd devious legal criminality and patronizing channeled PR much too long. That arrogance must be settled down.   

    Former companion still can’t understand, used by ill-gotten-gainers outside the relationship itself. The Police talked to her about her hyper vigilance, concerning the neighborhood being where people stretched things. Ran stop signs and hit each other. Loud music late at night under windows. The attitude the street isn’t really lived on, by the money paying for the apartments. On the other hand? Get off my stoop, often enough, isn’t rational sense. Though every situation’s different. 

    “Never talked to Mike.” Friendly Mike checking on my cornered management. His father ran an eastern point of Long Island hotel. Where retinues of who knows who of CIA Entertained Ocean Fishermen had near enough remnants of Prohibition Entrepreneur Legacy attitudes to play with a little Hammerhead Mike. Looking out for their Predatory Positioned Traditions. The 1950s Private Eye Anti-Communist Idol. Idol Mike Hammer was author Mickey Spillane’s simple icon. Spillane explained he wrote the fictional Mike Hammer series for money when he needed it. Formula sold like hotcakes. Like fishing. Anti-communism was popular sport. Still is, relatively. I know it’s all capitalism. So considered myself not relevant to the game of keeping the merry-go-round sufficiently oiled. 

    But friend Kurt Vonnegut, from the dead itself, alerted me. With a picture shown me by our friend. Another of Mike’s too, wanting him out from under. Picture Kurt specifically designed himself. Finding a carnival himself with a merry-go-round and drove her. Him against the pole through the horse. Those eyes with his famous piercing stare. That became like that time I ran from a park in remorse - I hadn’t read him yet and life’s too miserable. I don’t know what we’d say. The picture became revealing I was at the point I‘d reached. As Mike was cleared up last year’s Spring Baseball Season. Cornell University’s Kurt Vonnegut with an assist, from the grave, pointing to Mike Hammer’s riddles. She just met him working with photos for Kurt’s wife. Obviously Cornell University’s Founder’s Wall had Kurt Vonnegut have my back.

    I was loyal to our relationship. She helped. But couldn’t visualize change when The New York Times Book Review printed my name the second time. Not her fault. Raised to rule any man financially unsound, made sense. I couldn’t be bothered. I was writing, then saw no wonder people can’t publish me. I’d watched. Remembered and put together clues people gave me to remember. Otherwise generous people followed the pattern that financial clarity was beyond my capacity as a worthless not holding money person. I know I don’t have money. Past year none. Generosity’s faces couldn’t completely hide. 

    The New York Times Magazine included the draw of a The National Enquirer Editor. Front cover expose, celebrity draw. Naw, nowhere near Enquirer audacious. In fact I was disappointed by how subdued. Right, further insulting the defaming the name Enquirer as is The National Duper’s Corporate Style. 

    The editor became an on staff enemy for realizing there never was any integrity. Point made is Publisher David Pecker is his own predatory self. His dead friend, Donald Dump consigliere Roy Cohn, notwithstanding. Mr. Pecker’s what newspaper ownership has always been. Controlling voice, reporters even investigative described liberal. While other stuff’s just there puffing up conservative placation. The New York Times’ Ross Douthat is an extremely intelligent placater. From pinnacle that principle is separate from whackos. Come on, debate any time. You can keep the gate, Ross Douthat, War Pig Apologist. Only they (you) understand money is douche bag logic. And hid behind such that in the end, is just wasting time.  

    David Brooks? Both overly kiss up to the foul legacy. Even honorably exposing inconsistencies is - so what. Don’t attack me in print, still works. But all about who laughs loudest, last. Hooray! 

    Nothing. I am more conservative than Doofus Republican Conservative Quackery. Don’t care how high they pin hallmarks. I voted for President Gerald Ford on purpose. 1980 slammed my hands on the floor screaming, “No!” When President Carter said Amy feared nuclear because Ronnie went on to giggle “but.” That was really “ho ho ho.” Reagan self-effacedly giggled at the floor, as usual. Meaning fear their - our very own California Military Strength Industrial Disfunctionality, too. Stirred in Soviet Disfunctionality, above and beyond Call of Duty.  

    Not a thing Fake Conservatives manufactured is original. Modifying insight from the very nature of liberal thought’s evolution. Key is embedding the Left is too radically tainted. Too radical permeates their standardly shared thought processing. While redundantly jumping up and down on flags pinned to their chests. Excusing excuses. Scapegoating and blaming every any other anything. 

    Not fun about history over 50 years after Watergate is the Era’s wackiness remains. On The Watergate Tapes, themselves, Nixon is quoted. Nixon quoted fearing the offspring of the parents his ilk blamed as communists. For curiosities 20 years before. Who were just enough union inconvenience. Scapegoats wanted escaped. LOYALTIES: A Son’s Memoir by Carl Bernstein, the Washington Post Watergate Investigator’s book is a definitive, illustrative, source about the effects on American Families. 

    Despite Private and Government commercially motivated intrusions that destroyed many, Mr. Bernstein’s family held together. Family’s  Washington Laundromat instead of Union Organizer. Read Mr. Bernstein’s book three times. The Autobiography of Roy Cohn, six. I hate Cohn holds record for most. Although Babe Ruth, as child 6 isn’t the same. Lou Gehrig either. And, of course, the hammer and cycle reached gazillions writing. Co-author Sidney Zion did a good job with Disbarred Lawyer Cohn. Learned to understand his scumbag likability around the third time. Hate that too. 

    Not ethical defines the virulent anti-communist era and lingering legacies. Debate so packaged, nothing flew. But violent overthrow that still isn’t reality. When already popularly accomplished since the American Civil War. Generals being the primary source of Publicized Presidential Candidates for generations in the 19th Century. War became and remains a popular merchandising source of backing the economy. Sit back, our country is pervaded by weaponry skirmishes promoted by the subjective indifference of the NRA. National Rifle Ass. An argument including assault rifles equaling ridiculously argumentative people. Unable to face themselves, actually. 

    Really was the Shark Tank it remains, beneath Propped-up Fake Conservatism’s, embellished, umbrellaed accomplishments. Covering up our country’s worst monopolist tactics. Brewed to boiling during The Cold War. When money is what exists. Give to Caesar, IRS, etc. Time and money wasted in The Public’s not having complete cut of the pies at sources. Could get all tax near 5% if we really tried. The whole idea of saved, by puzzling IRS restrictions, is rationalized as oh well the government screws us too. Cycle of violence and revenge still ruins the Middle East. Cycle of Exaggerating Poverty, is not playing with all the Monopoly Money. Scary part? Half the donations to Congress have to just be about keeping Great Money Hazards Afloat. Over 50% of Congress are Corporate Lawyers. Down from over 90% that was so more obviously embarrassing a decade ago. Super-Celebrity Eddie Murphy met The Distinguished Gentlemen. 

    Historical fact. Whackos are capable of anything. Meanwhile? People whose personal histories were exaggerated, from experiences 20 years before, were crucified is not an exaggeration. A business model. If guillotines are popular, use em. Weapons improve every war as practice improves them. Even drones have foes. Field day, bottom line defending the pursuit of the finest weaponry to destroy man. Thing is men aren’t specifically hit. Collateral damage are the targets throughout history, for all intents and purposes. Pillage. 

    Pillage hidden behind Nationalism. That is Palestinian and Israeli Casualties in the Defense of Israel by Militaristic Mongrel “Bibi Gun”Netanyahu. Eternally stewing Jewish Hatred. Idolizing Superiority is on all Jews for Bibi’s Crap. Boiling his own revengeful Broth of Self-Idolatry! Just as Muslims identifying with Male Barbarism is wrong too. Revenge is not honor. There is no such different thing. 

    Speaking of exploiting and running? The Chandler Family that owned The Los Angeles Times were virtual owners of all Baja California, Mexico. It was their backyard. Ended up without the money to hold onto the family mine, newspaper, that ignited their windfalls. Family also built and owned Gasoline Oriented Factories that pulled jobs from Michigan, Ohio, Buffalo etc. Long before fashion was blaming foreigners for selling cheap. Raw deal, executives not seeing themselves as integral to healing ourselves. Why have an Executive Wasteland of real financial value? When coasting on inflation’s an ease. Covers up scapegoating anything. Surfing atop money bloated, bloating, Bloat of Fools. While Figurehead News Broadcasting is A Happening All Across America. Mindfully reminding the public to be happy Big-Oil’s not given up on - Owning and Wrecking Everything. Oh? Less Misshaping World Economies now? No. No one is.  

    Ruling World Destruction with their twin Military Industrial Complex Empires. United in appearing capable of hating anything at a misguided Leader’s whim. Case in Point: Xpresident Donald J. Dumpster. Militarized Industrial Big-Oil State Complex complexities is solved by facing yourselves as no other choice. Can’t blame everyone else as gotten away with a century. In fact. While White Whale Big-Oil Moby Dick is still actually blaming anyone but themselves = Congestion Pricing.   

    Smile. Have Nice Days. Remember that is an order Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men could defend. His character is guilty in the film too. Used Gas Engines on Car Lots for Sale All Across America and world? Electrify or we are not facing trying hard enough. Weather Rules. Plus Gas Engines in garages and parked? Yank em out! Figure out paying for what was run away from. Solving how what was not faced, is our equation. 

    We messed up the world too far is fact. A fact. Lying we’ve not already messed up too much? Is messing up way far way too much more. Calming down excessive pollution? We’re stoking Global Warming’s Bonfires with millions upon millions of sources of kindling. Nothing’s lessening. PERIOD! You didn’t do it? CORRECT! LAZY WEALTH has managed us into the mess our planet’s many environments need fixed. Put back together again. Longer cold Spring in America means? Canada’s not held together their northern cold climate. The Largest-in-the-World seller of oil to the United States. All the world’s succumbed to not afraid of destroying ourselves. Nulled to incomprehension. Humpty-Dumpties aren’t reversing the damage WEATHER clearly enunciates is PROOF Ruining The World is Happening By Falling Apart All By Ourselves. 

    The National Enquirer’s Mike Hammer introduced my special friend, my editor. Idolized for his working with Famous For Balloons, Capitalist Malcolm Forbes. My editor worked on The FORBES Magazine Rich List. And he wrote FORBES Magazine’s feature about Malcolm’s Passing Away (secret) Last Party. Malcolm Forbes said he knew he was dying, so I’d understand and accept his help right then. With editor for my hammer and cycle novel idea. He did die. I laughed when he said it. The novel’s name I’d only recently figured out. All about discovering alone then. For instance an undisturbed consultation with noted capitalist, Balloonist Malcolm Forbes. 

    Forbes asked and agreed Africa was the best site for The Party of his. Africa to emphasize financial flow at the world’s capital’s circulating bottom tier. Laughing agreeing I, “unfortunately no” wouldn’t get to go. Meanwhile he paid for everyone. There now, Malcolm. He had property in Morocco of course. We’d started by my thanking him for focusing on capitalism requiring fun to shake off the irrelevancies. Tribe Guys on camels at the party? We talked about paying for that. 

    Malcolm Forbes found me wanting to see what a band named Paris Green would do at the Pyramid Club. Below Manhattan’s 7th Street on Avenue A. Guitarist made me videotape handler. Club lasted years. Gone now. Something, alone in the back, where bands played. Malcolm asked when they’d start. I didn’t know. Nearby waiting. But leaving, I said to his back, “Hey. Wait, aren’t you Malcolm Forbes?” Remembering pacing, I’d thank him for emphasizing capitalism’s fun if I ever saw him. 

    “Why yes I am,” Malcolm said turning his huge smile around on me. Soon enough said I reminded him of someone. And pushed. He believed there was someone. Yeah my only vaguely understood then, Shadowy Uncle. “Advertising Legend” JK Fraser. Creator of the “Spotless Town” Sapolio Soap campaign. First Nationwide Advertising inside streetcars across the country. Common to the 19th turning 20th Century Age. Forbes’ eyes lit and basically said, “You need to visit that wall.” My third visit was last year to Ithaca, NY’s Cornell University Founders Wall. Where Aunt Aurora’s and Uncle Kenneth’s, James K. and Aurora S. Fraser, names are a block. Wall was covered for renovations. While inside the library a simply marvelous glass reproduction. Malcolm Forbes, Princeton, and I discussed my novel’s finally realized title. He wanted to provide an editor. What my eventually gained Forbes editor couldn’t, and even refused, to tell me turned out to fill a galaxy. 

    I refused lunch with Industrialist Dr. Armand Hammer. Already instrumentally important to the novel, as in more than just related to the title’s Hammer and Cycle name. “He’ll do anything I ask,” Malcolm said about Dr. Hammer. Back when Malcolm started collecting his Famous Faberge Egg Collection? Malcolm went himself and found where Hammer was faking Priceless Faberges. I made Mr. Forbes’ eyes pop open very wide and angry. I spoke curious if any survived. Extremely vividly angry. He said if we hadn’t talked about what we had, he’d have walked out. Pointed at the way out, clearly emphasizing. 

    “Malcolm,” I said. “I’m sorry, all history is curiosity to me. I couldn’t help asking.” Understood, basically. Still shaking his head at what he’d heard. Said, “I still can’t believe I heard you say that.” That I could utter such a disreputable thing. Yep, he was mad. We had to wait for him to simmer down. Gave and still gives me the heebie-jeebies. Worse every draft, plus laughter. Funniest regret of my life. Asking Malcolm Forbes if any Hammer Fake Faberges survived. We kept talking. I could hit me. 

    Malcolm Forbes stopped Dr. Armand Hammer’s illegal opportunity. Promised not to disclose. While history obligates my telling what Forbes promised Hammer he wouldn’t. Forbes had a grin. He knew what he was doing. “He’ll do anything I ask,” Malcolm would repeat. Forbes later plugged in my heart stopper, too young to absorb. What does he tell Dr. Hammer? If Dr. Hammer “asks about” me? Because “what if he already knows about you?” “Already knows” should have had me in tatters. But I’d been following so much conversation. 

    Didn’t know hadn’t hurt me yet. So I told Malcolm to tell Hammer to write a book. I’ll read. Malcolm laughed. Hammer’d had many written. And emphasized, with twinkling eyes leaning in. “Pay attention to the Picture Book. Centerfold.” Dr. Hammer on deck of Malcolm’s yacht Highlander. Lounge chair surrounded by listeners. Making his illustrative point. Visiting  Armand Occidental Petroleum King Hammer. 

Thought failures were all mine. Turns out POWER stood, stooping now to reach their smothered pest. Gnat, after all. Nothing’s lost in my loss on the terrain of authentic FREE AMERICAN SPEECH. Why should people understand Dr. Hammer was not lucky convincing a Libyan Aristocrat for his windfall of oil contracts that made Occidental Petroleum a Huge Big-Oil Player? Dr. Armand Occidental Petroleum Hammer wasn’t lucky. If Big-Oil hadn’t wanted? Or been coerced? They wouldn’t have let him in. Can’t say not big enough to stop Hammer. Anybody. 

    Producers of the film Three Days of the Condor addressed Oil Corruption’s Omnipotent Rule. Ending the film without a specifically said word from The Press. Expressed as the confidence The Press will expose people have been killed. Used as pawns in a checkered game of Diseased Aristocracy. Actually. As spy controller Cliff Robertson says - “It doesn’t matter. They own everything.” Published or not, doesn’t matter. Robert Redford smiles, “they’ll publish.” 

    Redford’s character’s revealed secret? People have been killed for this. Film ends. Press Hope. Not a published page appeared on screen. So as seen by the buffered silencing of 50 years since? Proves we’ve not bothered improving enough or any. Really. Documented being all wrong. But don’t allow the American Public to feel influenced. Fully realizing how bad the mistakes have been. That GAS has never faced needing to PUT THEMSELVES IN REVERSE. Reversed! Face we’re destroying Our Planet’s Earth in the Universe!

    America scapegoats using Media Coddling an unwillingness to blame ourselves. As the CONDOR film ambivalently clarifies. The people’s satisfactions will be answered. Satisfied Cliff Robertson can proudly say. But as Spoils of War? Why we’re clearly alive to fix and repair the damage done. Or accept not caring enough ourselves either. There’s no other equation. 

    President Putin’s shorted increasing Oil Wealth? Play move piles of dough shooting weaponry. Continue seeing where that goes instead. Moscow owns enough Ukraine anyway, for all practical predatory purposes. Predatory Russia can be counted on, as President Swaying Braggart tauntingly represents at the helm. Russia needs Russia’s money circulating throughout Russia. While confused remains all powerful enemies paying weaponry bills. So money trickles among the talented spoiled. Ridding World of Collateral Damage.

    The Soapbox View confronts issues. While tragicomically a Local New York City News Reader decided to Celebrity Score. Atop New York City’s Mount ABC Channel 7 Television News. A Male Figurehead nonchalantly labeled me an actual local neighborhood irritant/disgrace. All because Conquistador Bill Ritter from Naval Base San Diego was bred to defend some honor or other. Just laughs above the fray, as Celebrity always notoriously wins. Just like the X-president and current Donald J. Dump. 

    Mr. Ritter actually crowning himself a Pompous Goliath. Laughing at my signs facing him down in his gorgeous street visible studio window.  Extolling himself as oner of infallible heights. Grabbing the Sports Guy to comradely enjoy the laughter with him.


Bill Ritter is Dr. Armand Hammer’s Petroleum Boy King

    Enshrined at his throne, The News Desk. Behind Bill Ritter’s Glass Wall he’s designed entirely as Women’s Hated Glass Ceiling. The Glass Ceiling Boys improvised as their dome. From where Bill The Pimp, King of All New York News Boys rules women. WOMEN of much more talent, but it’s all alone - Bill’s. Male Figurehead News Reader for Big-Oil’s Lazy Wealth interests. Atop everything like - ALL FOR HIM BILL.  

    For the Celebrity Dunderhead and all his boyfriends. Dr. Armand Hammer never forgot me period. While Umbilical Phone Chord LA Empire Capital Dr. Armand Hammer certainly would not ignore completely a “LA Business Writer” named Bill Ritter. Roy Cohn always laughed too. If nothing to do with Hammer, Bill? Even you know evil people could have made you a David Hinkley Mark David Chapman all twisted in nots ONE. Roots of how you interfered in my life are that Bill. Deny you did anything, Bill. You were offended by me? Offensive. New York - Nazi Legacy Denier Bill Ritter. 

    Bill Ritter Framed in the Actual Best Public Street Window in New York City. Framed deliberately Roy Cohn. - Admit Nothing Denies Nothing as The Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense is the Destructive people’s theme. Deny denying exists. Roy Cohn 101. Know Nothings were an American Political Party once. Even had a platform of ideas. Now? Just Naked Emperor Glass Ceiling Figureheads.  

    Mega Celebrity Bill Ritter from his throne, News Desk Castle. Clearly enunciating everything wrong with Male Hierarchy’s Figureheads. Actual original name of Huey Lewis and The News. Actually no. But before famous saw them at what was and is now the Village Institution, Webster Hall. 

    Boys calculated to mold American Thought. Sure, misogyny is less misogynistic. But realistically? Men keeping control claiming no one controls War? Nonsense. A lot of boys’ damned messes. Women/Girls? Whole system’s coercive boys’ rules that’s adapted to. Hilary Clinton did this or that? Within men’s political and commercial competitions? Hilary Clinton is too good for as bad as America’s been. Face it. 

    Bill Ritter’s face Behind His Glass Wall mirrors all America’s dreaded Glass Ceilings. I’m glad to only symbolically shatter on principle. Without Mr. Ritter’s personally dragging me into his disingenuousness. Understand? Principle prefers wrapping this term of ABC Television’s Abbott Elementary, Dr. Watson. ABC-7 NEWS? Watson has left the building. Elementary Sherlocks?  

    Best New York City Public Visible TV Studio Window. Local but expressively done in entire DISNEY/ABC Network Extravagant Value. Especially when 66th and Columbus is compared to the Major ABC Network grand GOOD MORNING AMERICA studio in Times Square. A few more, near as good, would have made Times Square great again. As is the city is taking the money and running from too many illuminated signs blaring skyward and spanning everything. There’s nothing to watch but what we’re selling you, so be madcap or anything. But oh yeah. Buy what the signs are selling, over-competing their images. Dwarfing what should be a hallmark, ABC-TV GOOD MORNING AMERICA studio. 

    While vapid Bill Ritter expresses Hogwash Everyman. Boy Figurehead propped up by industries vacuously pillaging in destructive business mode. As usual style. Not kidding. Documented proven killing with money as ruling has established destroying the world’s course. Path paved. Stop arguing over piddling crap. Just money. Count it right, period. 

    Meanwhile my life in New York ABC-7 Celebrity Bill Ritter’s Soap Opera World? He took my picture a recent night, as if I’m still his game engaged in. Between him and me? He lied and ran. So I need a reason he could face me again. While people I really care about, watch Prime-Time Bill. I wait with them, but prod Bill. Noticed years before how he twisted news to Big Oil’s Militarized Satisfaction. Goliath beams I’m crushed. Nine months and counting. Too amused to see running from himself. Go ahead. ABC-7 Misogyny Bill. Tyrant in Women’s Relations. Face Bill.

    Co-workers and I have been waiting. Year in my case. Them? You’ve been in the way at least 23 announced years. I became your duty. Stopping me from not talking with The Love of My Life. Using Security. We, the two-of-us have even performed before NYC Police. Before THE entire PRESS outside the current Donald J. Dump Fiasco Trial. The ongoing trials from 2015 through 2024. What happened was Superstar of the News Desk, Sade Baderinwa passed her Sade Baderinwa name inside her held up BIBLE in my hand. Mocking The Donald Dumpster for his Mocking Christianity. Holding a Bible while exploiting a church. Will Bill tell his security we’re openly Christian. Me he knows as he’s fully aware he’s exposed taunting me for my faith. 

    As now Bill dances around, expressing his face is ready to start up facing me all over again. Lie again. Why would I need or want to talk to him? Honesty recognizes hall he ever did was interfere. Anything, however framed? Just more. He owns the News Desk commercial property. All the space and women in it? Okay. That it’s all his, he can’t hide? Is why you yourself have shown needing actual removal. I don’t believe in wanting people hurt. Your choice not to rehabilitate, Bill. Just pretend innocent Celebrity Bill. How could a commercial property of Bill's Status have ever done anything so wrong? Well worship Dr. Armand Hammer, because  when faced? Was responded to with an effervescent Roy Cohn not denying denial boisterous laugh. Means never face even Bill. Check mated yourself Boy Hierarchy Figurehead.   

    Last week I yelled when another New Security showed. About how the police watch to protect me. And much ABC Security, hands off many, many months ago. Even ones that hate me. Bill’s face I wouldn’t look at. But now the acting reveals he’s all taunt. No substance. Bill Ritter Fakes the News. That constant questioning face aimed at his crew. Have they taken care of me yet?  

    Oh my mother, Janet. Summer after my father Malcolm died, we consoled each other watching Soap Operas and Perry Mason. Where killing was all over LA’s rich families disputes over money. She questioned me to realize, “do you understand that?” Man. ABC’s All My Children had the first wife of Citizen Kane, from the film. Shaming the very idea of stupendousness answering anything requiring attention. 

    My Romantic Life turned upside down by ABC Super Celebrity - Bill Quizzical Face Ritter. Ritter’s manufactured Soap Opera lined all across his facial map. Framed my fault by poor distraught Bill. His ventriloquist act wrapped right before my eyes. Celeb jumped on top of my life. Shadow Surfing. Another screwed creation in the confabulation tactics that produced John Lennon’s assassination among others. Dampen history eliminating the flowering of Intellectualism. Donald Dumpster even preached that. 

    The Militarized Industrial Oil Waste Complex really was Napalm on Vietnam making money for moneyed boys. PERIOD. If this were fiction? John Le Carré would have colored Hotel Desk Clerk Bill Ritter’s hair red. Underlining his documented enemy role in my life. For current and future historians. Bill wrote himself in Contemporary History’s: Ridiculous Boy #1. 

    More stories are much more critical than Gas Bag Bill’s. But he jumped on the most critical in my life. Someone else’s too. Really? Everyone Bill works at ABC have stifled careers by Logjam Bill. Having the News Studio operate All About Bill.

    Naked Emperor Bill owns The News period. As observed from his moat, Public’s Sidewalk. Here’s an idea though, Mr. Ritter could solve your problem with me. Have your people ask Stephen Colbert’s? Maybe Air Time on Late Night can wrap your complaining up? Good plan, Bill. Me screaming my head off at Stephen Colbert could Put The Nation To Rest. Worth a shot? 

    One Security giggled weeks back, “oh no, they don’t bother with police.” Nine months out here and he’s told enough to treat me as smart. You can go.  

    News Reader, dynamically pillared Bill pinned above all Metro New York, Connecticut, New Jersey. Plus possibly anywhere in our over-a-generation Internet Age. See how friendly Bill is as dishonest as he can contrive. Who cares. Wasn’t relevant whether he knew me or not. For three months other three at His News Desk respected me. Then Big-Oil-Militarism’s Hessian Mercenary King staged his coup. Lying protecting WOMANHOOD. Of all the things for a Boy Hierarchy Figurehead to be caught red-handed lying he’s doing. While clearly pretending he’s above, so his getting away with Sexism Against Women is different. Such an important male Figurehead, Bill. Knows Dr. Armand Hammer would have maneuvered all of this anyway, hiding from history. Why whatever. Sabotaging me is Dr. Armand hammer. Roy Cohn deniability and not. Bill Ritter convicted himself in Full Public View of all his coworkers. No matter how innocently portrayed laughing Bill The Liar represents acting himself. Gregarious Bill. Choke me with a choke hold.  

    Perhaps half the security in the entire complex expected my facing Arrogant Bill. Maybe more than realized from Florida are in the building. As I was informed of many months ago. Heard about little kid. Florida’s Happy The Man and Racist Sheriff’s enemy, me.  

    Doesn’t matter Prussian Beauty Mark Bill Ritter broke in on my wave. Representing the Catatonic News Desk Throne Set-up all over the country. Three at His News Desk learned to respect me as I learned with them. Mr. Ritter just whines All About Goliath Bill. Gotta be film’s title. Just me and him? He ran running. Now Goliath represents his lying deserves repetition again is alright with him.

    ABC-7 King Bill Ritter has as many possible motivations as Dr. Armand Hammer himself had. Theoretically planted by San Diego Naval Base Hospitality. That itself can’t get out from under Militarized California’s Chunky Money Irresponsibility. Celebrity Bill conscientiously smothering Not News Personality Me has no answer himself. While Roy Cohn spiritually humps Bill’s derriere. Never yelled before like recently. Goliath rang the gong. Facing me ready to lie again. Should definitely play himself in any film.  

    Pawn Ritter’s a checker among Prime Time News Desk Boy Kings. “Occupational Hazard” Bill. Harnessed checker not fathoming our Chess Game. His checker baffled he’s not Queened. “I’m not?” Written all over his face. But drama queen, definitely. The Whole News Crew reflected Bill’s Self-Idolized Tragedy. Man had to explain himself. All eyes dropped when mine questioned Bill’s Obvious Throne. Daddy War Bucks ruling his studio princesses.  

    Tedious Bill. But people I respect demonstrate - wait. How can Petulant Bill be saved? So out of respect, I do what she or they want.“Occupational Hazard” Ritter from San Diego Naval Base Military Complex California. By way of Dr. Armand Hammer’s LA Capital. Umbilical Telephone Chord Empire. Where Mr. Ritter is appropriately labelled having been a “LA Business Writer.” After booted from college in 1972. When universities were no longer that severe about protesting Vietnam. But protect NAVY from Figurehead Bill. Gotcha.   

    I refused lunch with Dr. Armand Hammer, and was told Dr. Hammer already knew about me. While there’s no way Umbilical Phone Chord Hammer never talked with any “LA Business writer” as Bill is self-described. Innocent, whatever. Contriving his Security Soap Opera admits some level of guilt. Evidence. Security walls off Television Essayist. Why? All About Bill is not that important. Yet Bill’s Castle and that Glass Wall has my Princess held at contractual bay - so to speak. He’s the pain. Why should any women’s career suffer? Roy Cohn deny forevermore - Sleaze Ball Bill. Recently she saw me from the elevator, and I rode away seeing Bill’s Head bop around. No kidding, he can’t stop. 

    Classic Propped Up Male Figurehead Bill. Reminding the public Oil will ruin us if we disengage from their profitably entangled miseries. Fact said, and profitably sold for three generations. Hiding as an endlessly funded Public Relations Industry. Evolving more disintegrating PR. Objectively selling the masses on our comfort. Why not? Ruthlessness gotten away with is history. We’ve judged ourselves allowing world destruction. Simple. The Happening is a fact is history. Can’t face facts? Faced either way. Simple.  

    Mr. Ritter is a verified glass ceiling in the way of much more qualified Women’s Success at DISNEY/ABC, New York. The Installation taking up near an entire New York City Columbus Avenue block. But not quite to Central Park West, between 66 and 67th streets. Many Women’s stagnant positioning across the nation, is due to propped up Male Personalities because their Figureheaded News Desk Ruling Statuses are undeniably held secure. Bill Ritter, King Boy Case Closed. Meathead.  

    ABC 7’s Bill Ritter is Lawyer Ron Kuby’s curiosity. Spiritual Advisor “Bill” Kunstler. When, or if, Mr. Kuby ever gets that call from my retired Marine Colonel Advisor I’m working from jail. Right. Ron Kuby’s just for our laughs. Watching.  

    Mr. Ritter framed me crushed and insignificant. Clearly defending his burden Male Figureheads are sustainable vocations. Especially Bill’s empire. As with over-burning already over-burnt gasoline, ruining the planet. A more cavernous, over-exploited, Earth is made even worse in devastating amounts. Denial needs stopped. The modified messaging of stroking the Public to accept we can’t fix all our mistakes. 

    While projecting slowing down is clearly not good enough. Yes we can! Because we need to. As much money is made in crisis management? Are crises we are causing the worsening of that needs stopped. Requiring reversing pollutions’s damage and over-excavation. Watch. We’re still too slowly not moving things along, to not fully fix the planet’s equilibrium.

    As more lies are stretched across and over the truth over more wasted time. Generations. All For Sale Used Cars sitting on lots? Should transition to electric. All Gas Stations or any Gas Spot, should include Electric Service. In, out, no one needs complete charges and can plan. Solutions are within grasp. Unfulfilled three generations and counting. 

    The Big Lie is still everywhere that Big-Oil’s created problems are not reversing. However many half-measures are forwarded and acceptable. 

    However much the Propaganda Big-Oil War Publicity Machine complains from Big Mouth Local News Reader Bills. A Muddled Voicer just as Sean Hannity is. Vanity-veined in disorienting Citizens behind rejecting intellectualized thought. Boys not grown into real men. Real men judge themselves, not evade and avoid their consciences. 

    Reverse worsening Weather because the falling apart patterns are obvious and what matter. Because The Weather has clearly outlined Destruction’s Path. Lying we didn’t do this to ourselves, solves nothing. Nada. Naked Emperor Nonsense. Digging everything out of the ground, and killing Americans with Fentanyl. Evil needs shut down. Legally get addicted people off Fentanyl. Anything else is just more dodged answers, playing moral platitudes justifying indifferent moral judgement. Using unstable Authoritarian Values. 

    Watched Bill Ritter before my included design as his enemy. His friendly injection, ON AIR, covering up for Huge Oil. Mr. Shoulder Shrug. Oh we should make clear the obvious, Bill Ritter personally led. That early evening, had everyone at Bill Ritter’s News Desk recite what car they drove. I heard, “Why are you doing this?” Superstar Sade Baderinwa last. Leaving the kitchen, my heart really said doesn’t matter Sade. Something bigger wrong here. I just heard and watched Gang Bang Big-Oil Bill. 

    I know why me and how difficult it was explaining my not making money. My Parisienne first girlfriend, 22 me 34, even shrieked, “That will take 20 years!” As the hammer and cycle novel took exactly that. Give or take something. But Bill Ritter not married until his 50s? Means a Player as Degenerate as Donald Dump. Sue me, Tag Team. Maybe publicity helps? 

    The Weatherman’s eyes wiggle hearing Wanker Bill. Lost in a Legacy of Superiority Wanderlust. Prussian Beauty Mark. Hessian Scab Bill.

    Mr. Ritter, likely enough, pretended he was unaware of who I was outside ABC TV, 66th Street. Best Studio Window in city. Bill struck after we’d established where Real News Desk Anchor Superstar Sade Baderinwa and I were. Not winks. Trust. Three months spent waiting on Calculated Bill. Who cares? Doesn’t matter. Just incidental. But I question myself all the time. Him, apparently not. Three people at Bill Ritter’s News Desk recognized, among ourselves, I could be trusted. My hammer and cycle card many months on a newspaper box in front of the studio complex. Twice. 

    Bill Ritter reliably proved I was his target all along. Pretending to not know, he still pretends he’s just goofing. Goliath portraying my not understanding my life’s role is bowing to His Vaulted Celebrity. Don’t think anyone misses that, Bill. Just you had no business messing with me. And confidentially. Nothing could ever come between Sade and I but God who brought us together. So there. 

    I now completely realize I REALLY was always Dr. Armand Hammer’s enemy. As he himself defined himself, running from history. I’m writing an objective novel? Of course Dr. Armand Hammer knew he was guilty. History. You too Chump. Dr. Armand Hammer Simile Bill. Just because I wouldn’t allow Dr. Hammer to add his two cents over lunch. Round of applause, Bill just gorged thirds on dessert. 

    Defined by Bill? My insignificance has no right to carry out my Courtin’ the Love of My Life, Sade Baderinwa. Ah courtin’. Figuratively speaking. Did-ja ya know Buddy Ebsen, the Broadway Dancer of The Beverly Hillbillies fame came out of his mother’s Orlando Dance School. Orlando where I hatched. I never expected highlighting on Broadway. Though still not distinctively as created by Soap Opera Bill. Broadway? I’ve arrived anyway.  

    Uh huh, King Bill. Debilitated high above ABC-7, 66th and Columbus. Fitting tribute to Honky Crackers everywhere, being carried away by themselves. Glorifying Predatory Behavior, such that it’s not seen in supposedly ordinary lives. Still withering at social and national relationships  every day. Patriotism cloaking Nationalism used to beat the world’s citizens to a pulp ourselves. Astray unable to solve simple feuding. Icons made and kept up as mad as The Mad Georges and King Ronald Reagan Superhighways built in The Renowned Giggler’s honor. Donald Dump just reinvigorating the Path of Political Destruction revealed as Presidential Celebrity Charades. Where Celebrated Personalities are pinnacled throned and untouchably alone. How Donald Dump got away with it at all, to begin with. Ba dump dump Donald J. D(Tr)ump. 

    Goliath Ritter symbolizes that theme from the old 1970s ABC’s Charlie’s Angels. When that was The Only Women’s Show and Charlie accurately lounged by the pool. While women did the work. Then shined their ending, “Thanks Charlie!” Good grief. Guess what happened when I complained in the late 70s about the level of show content in front of a woman? I caught deserved hell. Because no matter what, it was the only one where women were the stars. Stars everywhere else were just extra stars. Charlie’s Angels were three. Why they were angels.   

    Protect Bill from wild man who’s nothing but non-violent and honest. Just ask Sade? Liz Cho? Different, but as pretty a smile as Sade. But, you know. Eyes only for. 

    Meathead Bill certainly had months to watch enough of my falling in love with Superstar Sade. However his whining represents. Can’t exist without Bill’s proper understanding? No. Bill not wanting to understand is the Roy Cohn GET AWAY WITH ANYTHING loophole. Donald Dump advertises in court. Good gig. News King. Rule women and everything. We, all four of us, waited for Mr. Ritter’s move for months. One and I exchanged left hand salutes. My way of thanking Mr. Bloomberg for spending money to stop more gun killing. He’d already spent enough on Americans trained to not listen enough. 

    So back at Sade’s Studio, after my necessary research train trip? I asked five ridiculous habitual window starers to leave her alone. I don’t stare at her. She didn’t need it. Besides work, her time’s spent laughing with, and at, how Security remains obsessed just watching her. Now pretend to not bother with me anymore while surrounding her. Anyway, fed up with starers outside. Habitually allowed to glare. Two threatened me with unseen knives, and one made sure yelling was used as an excuse for Mr. Ritter’s pouncing. Told one bragged there five years? Mr. Ritter shed surprise. Plus, “Trust Security” The Liar said.  

    Established polite parameters with the other two main people at the News Desk. Short conversations. Ryan Field and Lee Goldberg. Who were with her when my eyes bonded with hers. People simply validate Bill Ritter targeted me. Carnival Act immediately disappeared. Well beneath the brilliance of Penn & Teller. Could have at least tried to trick me some. Fact: According to my editor, in real life? Teller will talk and I wouldn’t know. But take his word for it. Till Teller doesn’t tell me different. “Penn would say anything.” 

    So displaying inconvenienced patience, Bill Ritter’s Back faced me. To His Security said, “take care of this.” Nine months ago. Audience smiles at King Time-Waster Bill’s audacious conceit. As if nothing was ever done on his part. Above it, Victim Bill. Falling all over themselves in the aisles, Crackhead Bill. Soda spilled everywhere. Just take care of it, All About Bill. 

    I screamed at ABC’s revolving door while Goliath was framed there behind glass. Having stood outside framing himself facing me meaning he’s saying he has nothing to say still. Lord of ABC Manor. Get it? Huge mistake defining yourself Goliath. From beginning, not a rock. Transparently perforated Bill. Meanwhile: World’s whittling ourselves away while Bill’s giggling like Reagan wasting near a year on Just Bill. 

    Talk to Sade. Sade turns my page. Leave NY for wherever unless we need to keep talking. Easy. She just tells me I can go now. (I love her.) Checker Head knew, knows. Still portrays he’s a ping-pong paddle waiting his coming return. Ping Pong Ball Bill. 

    Sade and I bonded last summer. Where she and her co-stars had waited on my opening eyes to land on hers that cinched us. Waiting on Bill’s tiring checkers with himself. Really all a Queen and Retinue can do. Watching herself kept a Princess on a checkerboard. Hovering over every piece. Bill’s board. We’re both cracking up, Goofball Bill. You’re a checker. But time to move on. Crack the window. Crack your head. Same difference to me, Bill. Do something, Waste My Time Bill. Big mistake being Goliath. Especially after the next paragraph’s experience.  

    Absolutely never would I suggest God when just meeting anyone. No one. Never ever never. Heaven’s different. But condemned for not understanding? “Father forgive them, they know not what they do?” My soul is burning HELL, if that’s the case. God’s judgement is already everyone’s soul, facing our own consciences. We’re judged by what our consciences record. Mindful speculation’s doubtfully condemned. When everything God is, is everything plus beyond anything we could possibly think.

    Anyway. Flippant Bill started on me with, “I don’t believe in God.” And I care less. Not God’s concern either. Asked why God was relevant to even bring up? He answered I’d mentioned God. Ridiculous. He’d seen something between Superstar Sade and I. Careless barging in. I do not do that. Never would. She and I were different. I wanted to know what she might understand from our possibility in common. Knowing my Famous Baltimore Friend Guy Babylon? Where Sade’s from. Her eyes saw and face gave a bigger answer than I could expect. Just curious. She and I figured ourselves out long before Bill engaged me in his show sport of choice. Goliath Bill. 

    Barged in, you did carelessly exposing Bill. Your Castle, after all yes. Territory, true. European Colonialism’s Legacy. Sharks overwhelming people’s workplace. What’s gotten away with. Good for you. I’ll wait for Sade outside, till your demons work you out. As we established near a year ago now. Tourniquet Face Bill. Known you’re the glass wall ceiling itself, well before lowered on me. Realize we’re under Cornell University’s Founders Wall right now, Bill. Down this historical drain I’ve formed from being pushed down myself. Squeeze in. It’s tight. But once in, I slip from out to where I’m more necessary than under the wall with the glamorous freaks. History’s threads are being sewed, written up broad and right. I am finishing up, Bill. Wait’ll The Great Piling On begins. Whoopi Goldberg! Of ABC’s The View. 

    Meanwhile, no one needed Bill. Had me thinking back through the minute, to recall saying God I didn’t say. Less than a minute before, that I didn’t do. And shrugs shoulders, he’s sorry I can’t recall. Nonchalant callus. I can recall important things more than 60 years ago. But with that man? I’m rendered incapable of revived memory of less than a minute previous? And funny to him. That I know he knows he’s getting away with lying. Premier Joseph Stalin to a T. So propagandistic he’s not even competent to read the news. Insisting it’s his right to get away with lying to Americans more. As Donald Dump does conveying omnipotence too. Pagan Snobs. 

    Outside on 5th Avenue, next door church, Donald Dump Quote: “What religion am I? Oh. I’m Presbyterian” while his head flailed up unable to even face his own words he’d just said. Presbyterian is a Protestant Denomination of Christianity. I am a First Presbyterian Church of Eustis, Florida 53 year member.  

    ABC heard footsteps long ago. One ABC man said, “Don’t forget there are people from Florida here, too.” Because a lot of us hated what that damned racist Sheriff stood for. I am Eustis, Florida’s Happy The Man, Toadstool Bill. Bigger Hatred of Lake and Sumter County, Florida’s Racism than any money pile could ever pay to keep hiding Spilled-Oil Bill. Friends want you forgiven? I try. While you and Mike Hammer may never have gotten the privilege to meet? Donald Dump and President Putin are documented on tape at the same party. Portraying nothing to do with each other, a fairly loud lie too. Like you Bill.   

    Bill Ritter laughed I put two Bibles over each of my eyes. Mocking his indiscriminate characterization of me. He nodded for Ryan Field to look at the idiot. Ryan’s look was direct. - You realize this is right before My Sports? - I left in time. 

    Wrote yourself Completely Finished Bill. Sade and I experienced ourselves as a miracle through that glass. Plus those two men watched. Saw, watching Arrogant Bill think Twinned Bibles funny. Check Mate, Inattentive Bill. 

    Judged yourself. But Bill is right. I’m too small. So he’s allowed to portray himself innocent of ruining anyone. How celebrity works. TMZ? If Donald Dump can get away with everything, why isn’t everyone? Exactly. We are. Covering up Dump’s trials, National Enquirer, TMZ? 

    Oh Empire Castle Bill. Whose back was all I got. Updated facing me, offended In won’t just let him voice Dr. Hammer’s belting me again. For history’s sake my defamed face frames Hysterical Bill’s. Ruining people is not my style. You used that to advantage too. But like other people who’ve run from me. Faces get planted ruining themselves. I just don’t do it. And the Women of ABC bent over backwards with patience, while Bill screams realize everything is just about him. Funny Guy. Know why there was only Funny Girl Starring Barbara Streisand? Boys don’t deserve it. 

    One boy, in his 50s now still a boy. Bragged serving in the Israeli Army, that everyone is required to proudly serve. Fine, Especially When Peace Rules. Braggart Bicycle Racer starred in the National Geographic (Murdoch Owned) Explorer documentary about bicycle couriers I briefly appeared in. In the basement of 500 5th Avenue, mailroom afterward moved upstairs, the braggart put a six-inch blade knife to my neck from behind. Arm exactly around my chest and forearm over my forehead. Didn’t know who it was. Thought I’d die. Loose, facing that consequence. Pushed me away laughing. Had me. Ran last time I saw him, Newscaster Bill. Joke? He hated me too.  

    Impossible I’d do as Mr. Ritter said. I have rules. Never cared and doubtful God does either. People mind their own business. God’s judgement is one-on-one between our conscience faced souls. I was explaining how Robert A. Caro inspired my recent train system research. And Mr. Ritter “oh well”s he knows “Bronx Expressway tragedy” lah-de-dah too. While moving along his surfed words, regardless. His Male Hierarchy Figurehead stood out. Ritter’d said, “All about Sade” the night Sade Baderinwa said, “bye Guys.” When I was the only one there. Act One - Good grief I am Charlie Brown II. 

    Ms. Baderinwa made sure I was kept serious. Ready to see darker aspects, her co-worker women at ABC faced. Mr. Ritter’s openly disguised Figurehead. Five years ago I stopped exactly in front of that window. No one else inside the studio but him. There he was. Peace signing a couple outside. Making as if they were his total focus. But he enjoyed his boisterous laughing, while his sight encompassed me right there. Portraying too overjoyed to notice insignificant bicycled me. Looked huge, thoroughly amused with himself. Noticing me while thinking he faked he wasn’t noticing. I immediately rode off understanding something was wrong with that. Some day and I met. 

    Mr. Bill Ritter of San Diego Naval Base Industry, California insists rendering me insignificant is just normal TV Station Security. Involving him so His co-News Desk Anchor, Superstar Sade Baderinwa isn’t bothered by my disturbing him. We spent three months establishing our bond in expectation. Contrived by him as threat. Easy enough. Bill Ritter stopped Proven Wacko from further exposing larger issues worth larger debate. Hero Bill.

    Local Punk diminishes pest. Coincidentally how The Warriors film starts. Assassination of a Leader announcing a plan to bring all the gangs together. United to establish things rightfully for themselves as a community. But Nation State War Feuding is instilled too in how people’s regular social spheres are dragged under as well. 

    Meanwhile we need reversed what’s already ruined the Earth. Plus all our healths. Beat cancer? Cancer’s more common than should be. Chemically Dependent Earthlings is too free. Bragged each other into self-satisfied expensive mediocrities. Like Cortisone Face Bill. Who doesn’t feel bad hiding and lying about America’s faults, nor destroying me. Keeping everything himself. As all of us are London Bridged falling down under his sidewalk, moat. Drowned under by boys whose programed satisfaction’s Overpriced Meddling Ways. 

    Censored stops Little Guy Don’t Read Me. Not Censored completely, but see? No support. No commercial support. Only charity accepted is if a Church has to feed me. How much of a Pest could I be? If only drowning in Bill Ritter’s Moat? No, I do not jest. Bill Ritter is both King and Court Jester wrapped in one. Look how disagreeable I appear to Fortunate Son Bill? No real personality could hate Superior Boy, Figurehead Bill! Because no face can face down BIG OIL Militarized Puppetry, anyway. Especially as represented by Pale Face Bill. 

    LIGHTS ARE ALL THE WAY UP! Hessian Mercenary Bill! Uptown’s Broadway. You silly slice of actually hated historical legacy, Knight is English for German Ritter Bill. Pay it! Hitler’s father trained Adolph by regaling each other over the dinner table. About Little Adolph’s ruling all the neighborhood’s children playing war in the woods. Idolizing King Militarized Adolph. Kids. Then WWI Generals built upon the more war ever after perpetual surprise. In the bunkers. Pretending little Adolph’s their best messenger. They had telegraph. He was manipulated by warriors into a further messed up mindless mind. Constructed by warriors to manipulate more bad reasoning around predatory preparedness. Le·bens·raum. Land for country’s growth. The Justification for German Predators and others still TODAY! Bill, constructed too. Had wrong war - Vietnam. When war is all wrong period. A judge just finding out about your unexplained LA time existing, would say, “Stand up so I can see you see me laugh at you too, Crackhead Bill.”

    Too much association with bad stuff, theoretical Dr. Armand Hammer  associate Bill Ritter. Elie Wiesel? Renowned Nazi Hater. Sat in his office with him behind his Working Desk. I was told my German blonde genes  meant he’d hated the experience. But our sitting there, including his pained eyes eyeing me? Meant nothing to say, but get the damned idolizers. 

    No matter how much any of us empathize? You lied, Mr. Bill Ritter. Denying from the beginning. You’re not Roy Cohn Style involved ruining me. But you are Roy Cohn Style denying knowing anything. Symbolically placing your own Roy Cohn Style Hand’s admission on the Bible. Mimicking Roy Cohn’s damnation - Deny There’s Anything To Deny. No matter what happened and happens. 

    Tyranny’s assassin? You’re history representing Big Dopes, Mr. Ritter. Expose more, Streaker Bill.  

    Thomas Paine II got closer in my quest to reveal what this is really all about: TH BIG PICTURE. Coincidentally a Kevin Bacon film. The star who stuck with the bicycle courier film, Quicksilver. Could only drop his head grinning, whatever. That time after he and Kyra Sedgwick announced their engagement. Kyra and I smiling at him as she handed me the phone at a booth on of all places Park Avenue, above 62, where they were very rare even then. Imagine that grin on The Closer? Acting. 

    But what this is really all about any Good People in the Big-Oil Military Industries facing themselves as their own consciences. Ridding the planet of faceless subterfuge. Hidden by Malignant Corporate Welfare Legacies. That’s already paved world destruction. Bush Smiley Face on it. Stealing an election in 2000 that was carnival replicated in 2020. A show of freaks just destabilizing things. Planned obsolescence made of our American Political Debate Structure. By, oh yeah let’s shake it all up don’t preach at them Incorrigible-ism. The Whole Nation saw that! Go to sleep. Take a DON’T WOKE pill and don’t call us unless you’re satisfied. Keep those propped up FIVE STARS coming. 

    All Legacies, especially rotten, are for all our sakes to face ourselves. We depend on it. Sold ourselves loads of crap. Cars fueled by poison that should no longer be. Yesterday. Plus God never bought War wins Peace. Males write inspired Bibles, Korans, etc., forming Male Rule? Then that part’s wrong. Dead Wrong. Sure, David brought Goliath down. Anything else is people faking they’re not using war to Scavenge the Earth. Armies pillage. That is history. What European Colonialism and fighting for it was all about. Economic stability for some. No war is economic stability for all. Duh. 

    Extremely qualified Staff of Women clearly enunciated Bill’s specific Lunatic Male Disorder. Extra-Chivalrous Macho-Posturing that’s an Obsessive American Eyesore. Which Mr. Ritter might not have been specifically called out for. If he’d not been so demonstrably the most unpleasantly elephantine Goliath Honker in Palace Bill. I know. Imagine how insulted I see I should feel? 

    Actual anchor Superstar Sade Baderinwa is still in Bill buddy role. Always aware I’m not anywhere near her hurting anyone. Except GLASS WALL CEILING has to go. Bozo Ritter The Clown. Should have left us alone, Rodeo Clown. Face glowed so thrown up. Not caring to face me. Framing me not knowing “who” I was “out  there.” Then, “Honestly” stared right at my eyes’ balls. Bill’s eyes questioning mine in recognition of my understanding he’s affirming his lie is the truth. Thorough hogwash. Back facing me, didn’t care that His Security’s incapable to just “take care of this.” Called cops, now afraid to call. Hello! 

    On their call I announced my name loud first. Then paced smiling, watching security dude’s face frame - what puzzle is this? Dispatcher could have read to him from a restaurant menu. But he was focused attention. His eyes staring listening. NYPD, huh? We’ll see. Not yet bothered stopping my smiling in 40 years. And we’ve met. Actually can’t remember a single name to protect the innocent. Uh huh. There are. Everyone’ll get there. 

    ABC-7 TV suffered Ego Bill long enough. Understanding just required my moving along. I expected weeks. Well, wanted days. Come on? Baderinwa? I want(ed) RIGHT NOW every second! Gag me with the Sun! Sade’s calm serious face back then, reads now? Expect the full year it’s become. Woman’s a monument. Turns me to stone. I don’t care. Got to fall in love with Sade Baderinwa. If all? Nice privilege, Woman. I do Love You. We’re calm. Buffoonish Soap Opera Carnival Barker Bill Ritter. He’s even seen other ABC women not caring they encouragingly smile with me, and are seen by him. An amnesia takes over when he’s apparently not the star. Who’s Who of ABC NEWS New York City talent. Ritter’s head drops contemplating wondering when revenge’ll work on them too. 

    Only your Castle Bill. Your moat. Go ahead. Ask Michael Phelps to race me in the moat/sidewalk for you. First to stop swimming loses. But he might not care as much, if Sade can select him if she wants to bother. I’m already past the moon. And then some. Sleep? I don’t need no stinking sleep. I want us to talk. And Sade’s decisions aren’t decided by boys playing competing with each other means anything. Never needed Bill, obviously.

    My father, Malcolm Charles Fraser, was US Navy Spanish-American War. I was privileged and proud to stand with others, when the US Marine Conductor requested family members of each service stand when their anthems were played by The President’s Own Marine Band in Carnegie Hall. The Marine Orchestra bubbled, standing for the US Marines. Starting the concert, “Wow, we’re in Carnegie Hall.” Began our first time ever, together, inside the Concert Hall. 

    Bill Ritter, San Diego Naval Industry, California bred was expelled for Vietnam War protesting in 1972. When universities generally no longer responded that extreme. Then on to “LA business writer” could have walked the UCLA Campus Dr. Armand Hammer Museum with Dr. Armand Hammer himself. Or not. But telephone addicted Dr. Hammer would not - not call. Or not known any “LA business writer.” Especially inside his own umbilical phone chord capital, Occidental Petroleum Hammer World, LA. That Bill Ritter was successful enough in to be identified, “LA business writer.”  

    “What if he,” Big-Oil Occidental Petroleum Dr. Armand Hammer, “already knows about you?” Malcolm Forbes said. Indeed. 

    Last Fall Mr. Ritter’s shenanigans started. At least two solid months after my already summer delivered TV Essay Journalist’s Interview request. Through The ABC Messenger Center, signed by Israel. Copy of my novel specifically addressed for Ms. Sade Baderinwa. Oh well, left Superstar off the package. 

    Mr. Ritter’s interfering? Whining protect Prestigious Bill. No longer funny, All About Bill. Who knows how received or read my Signed Delivery was? I delivered. Israel signed. I speculated she’d read something anyway. She knew something about me. Bonded through that Glass Wall. Both knew something about the other. I learned we could be darned curious together. Soon, dag gum it. She saw I saw we fit that time in the 67th Street window. I know she froze seeing my eyes. 

    She, Ms. Sade Baderinwa, spokeswoman for the United Nations Woman’s Day. Melded with The Soapbox View that took on a Women Should Rule theme. Symbolizing 30 centuries of militaristic oriented boys leading us all to war and violence. So prestigiously, and profitably, relied upon. Maintaining disarray and power and glory for boy-figureheads.  Macho Men. Equality still today, just waiting on boys. Macho Men’s sloppy feet chivalrously removed from in the way of opened doors. Big deals, Macho Glass Ceilings. 

    So Big New York Celebrity News Desk Soap Opera Star defined himself as too formidable. Both Soviet Communism and anti-communism worked that way. For what? Back facing me said, “Take care of this” to Security. Well after his co-anchor and I both knew I fell in love. She knew. Had us wait. And ABC Women smile. Meathead, most ABC Women always knew too. Now, all? 

    A favorite Sade Baderinwa picture is of her and Norman Lear. It’s mistletoe now. Mr. Lear made a big point out of our smiling (no picture) together too. Because he could have heard about my glorifying All In The Family less than a city block from Racist Sheriff McCall’s house. When the show premiered those weekday 3 in the afternoons. I saw the first All In The Family and leaped, “This is it!” Mr. Lear got back out of his car, with “I have to do this.” Turned right to me smiling right with me. I’d frozen there when I saw him coming out of the building. I love her glow with Mr. Lear. No, not always the exact same. I’ve experienced doozies.

    Sorry Mr. Lear. You’re kinda fuzzy. Nice, right? Archie Bunker a Stranger in a Strange Land Gunsmoke Marshall Dillon. In his In The Heat of the Night. Between this and that societal blindness, enforcement is also knightly entrenched in that show. Though good. Blame illegal drugs for being a commercial success? Idiocy has the country on Chemicals legal and not. The Criminal Enterprise System is so tightly wound. People with the really devious eyes don’t even expect answering for their victims. 

    Not facing ramifications is why Generals are not stationed on the Front Lines. In the line of fire is the best defense. When best is not fired on or at anyone else at all. The Most Successful Illegal Narcotics Suppliers don’t do their own stash. Physically debilitating themselves as well. Low level dealers with the right access know how to stabilize their physical habits. Fentanyl destabilizes the world. Playing cops and robbers paying each others’ bills. Just as Witch Nancy and Warlock Ronnie put all the blame on Gays for AIDS. Uh huh. More Offense never ends. Israel should end Bibi Netanyahu embarrassing Israel. Peace an answer when not one soul is applied to revenge.  

    Weeks ago, two days near ABC’s front revolving door. Blank sign symbolizing CENSOR ME. I couldn’t see through my blank cardboard. But probably another male executive, “understood.” Ritter whining right there. Me behind my blank. “See what” he “can do about it.” Just feet from me. While NYPD and I wait too. Last exec was specifically told I want the police here to document what these creeps are doing. Exec never returned. Bill obligated exclusively Egotistical Oriented Head. 

    Many ABC Security Divisions in the humongous Columbus Avenue installation sort of face me. Covering derrières. Wondered why what’s happening is happening. Weird stuff, weird to me too. But just reactions to Mr. Ritter. “It ain’t me babe,” as Sonny and Cher sang. Weeks spent Train Tripping. Four stations including nation’s capital, Washington D. C. Before Ritter struck my “Wall Street Little Girl Statue Bicycle” was parked near the revolving front door. Signing - I LOVE SADE!

    Mr. Ritter’s just Denial The Dragon’s face. Roy Cohn had backs like that. Mr. Ritter already knows those the world’s destroyers don’t face each other. Throw money at, kill, or socially obliterate reputations. Doubtful Ritter is just pretentious goof. Arrogantly programming himself to just hate Tree Huggers. Man definitely targeted me. I could have thought that just amusing. But anything Dr. Armand Hammer could have possibly taught or manipulated out of Bill’s San Diego military-muscled life is possible. Gas Bag Bill. Playing stamp out intellectual below his “Pay Grade.” As confessed when Ritter bombed me with all his nuclear weight. Right, Oily Bill? Lie about anything Bill. So what Bill? Watch the historical opinion of my eviscerated guillotined neck grow. Bill? 

    Standing Ovation, Boy Rule Bill. King of the Bring Your Own (BYO) Alcohol Party on Wall Street. With buddy Mike Hammer and The whole half-witted National Enquirer Crowd. Framed adamantly against tiresome Isolated Deluded Me. Thrilled Ego Dr. Hammer Bill plus Sentimentally Angry Mike The National Enquirer Hammer. Good job Mike is. So angry at the end, and I still think of him as a friend. Nice touch. Even he has to think it funny now how he really hated me. Guess. Ritter, you’re such a conceited putz. Bozo atop Mount Brat Bill. And I Still Like Mike loads better than you pile of crap Bill. 

    Country didn’t, but New York City knew Donald Dump is just a criminal. While Bill Ritter consciously earned himself the notoriety of described a potential Donald Dump cellmate. All on your own. One of thousands of Problem Enablers. Embracing male figureheadism. Obligated to ruining the country for generations. Framed friendly joke, driven up Ritter’s rectum. According to Bill on ABC. 

    Coincidentally, According to Jim ABC Star Jim Belushi also starred in The Palermo Connection, (1990). A brilliant take on having the Heroin Trade simmered out of the Criminal Enterprise System. 

    Face bouncing Bill illustrated Above Clouds Celebrity. Framing Goliath Face all over me. All over, all over for me. Goliath erect. Meaning if I only try explaining myself better he’ll lie again turning his pages. So Umpire Goliath can keep shrieking. Honky Crackers Rule!  

    Speaking of Goliaths? There’s enough money to Homely House thevHuge Homeless Catastrophe. Face this New York. Every lie this city ever bought is written on Bill Ritter’s upset Above-It-All get back to not facing things Face. Sue me anyone. 

    This city rode, and country is riding, inflation dissolving any use for bottom income brackets. Surfing inflation like tomorrow’s never had a yesterday. Destroyed the bottom of the economy. Inflation killed it, no one’s fault. Got you. Repair it or that mistake is more mistakes on top of more mistakes. Taking care of the homelessness is presently prison-numbers tactics, at worst. And best? Not enough better. Next question? Create a fund from the Real Estate Fortune, for reasonable room and private everything individual bathroom facility. For everyone that needs it till on their commercially strategized feet. Or instituted in a properly functioning health and mental health care system. 

    Ms. Baderinwa empathizes. Bill isn’t programmed to face himself. Knows he’s a checker. Soap Opera Ordeal Bill. Anyway, just Television Face Bill. Just a property not responsible for anything. Even a wrongly influenced America? Just lying all by himself to himself. Except we all know, Bill. Coincidence? The extremely good Rock Band GENESIS? Wrote a song, We All Know. Their worst. I hate it and you Bill. Otherwise, GENESIS are as brilliant as Women. ABC’s women neighbors? Extra smile at me, when people didn’t used to regularly smile like that. Bill?  

    Bill Ritters pervade the United States. Portraying satisfied they’re managing their inconveniences. Arrogance clearly and specifically defines Criminal Intent. Everyone around Bill knows. Same as Donald Dumpster. Checkers Playing Country For Fools, as Patti Smith’s The People Have The Power reminds.

    General Colin Powell is quoted saying if we break it we should fix it.  So a Black Man’s scapegoatable for ruining Profitable Iraq. Hey! There’s money in that! Gargantuan windfalls for Dick Cheney’s King Organized Big-Oil George Madness. Lock Dick Cheney up @ Camp Mar-a-Lago Federal Penitentiary. Warden Donald Dump’s self-nominated Vice. 

    Why Bill Ritter was faced with Bibles over both my eyes. For his boisterous laughter. Making sure of someone to laugh with him. I’d shared left-handed salutes, from the elevator, with the night before. I didn’t have to look. You’re surrounded by men who won’t lie to themselves, Bill. They saw Sade and I experience uniting. I just touched the glass where Sade and I connect and left. Not needing to see more of her bowed eyes as I easily visualize how lovely they are, all the time. Bill is just All About Castle Bill’s Moat Hoarding. Above even intellectualism. Laughing so amused with his taunting me. As if pushed to do as he’s always done. Focused on taunting, ridding me. But, of course, just protect celebrity. Victim-heads. I don’t care. At least Bill’s exposed. Sow what you reap, Boy Hierarchy Bill. 

    Security Facade enforced separation from my intended peaked. So he blocked my bird finger. From His News Desk. Behind his Glass Ceiling Wall. Blocked my bird finger with his infernal abuse of the Peace Sign. Remindful of Hitler twin Churchill’s victory sign. Mocking himself as Hippies made sure history records. His victory for Britain still didn’t erase his clear Racist History. Convenient Scapegoat Elitist Snob. While American President FDR himself? Didn’t let Boatloads of related to American Jews, needing us, land here. Prejudice never faced, when just addressed as new games of darts.  

    I hit the glass ceiling window substitute with the garbage exactly. Over three months after Bill Ritter’s Security Facade started. I pick up trash outside ABC all the time. Walked away from both mounds of garbage, emphasizing ABC should pick up their own. Never before allowed garbage I’ve thrown, to not be picked up by me. Raised to put garbage in my own pocket until a trash can’s available. Mr. Ritter just idolizes himself auto-pilot ham.  

    Not to be confused with Elite Couriers Alumnus, Ham. Drummer for the Irish-American Rock Band Black 47. Known for not wanting to put up with more twisted crap from German Aristocracy’s twisting more confusion into the Twisted British Crown. Wha-wha-wha-What? Look into it. Poor Queen Victoria and her love the Kaiser, la de da. Colonialism was a Perpetually Confused Competing State War Self-Entitlement Competition. Certified surreal. Tampa, Florida? Founded by Pirates who worked for themselves and any National Team at any price. Nothing changed. 

    Garbage thrown at Mr. Ritter by someone who holds to strict non-violence? Uh huh. Celeb carved self. Throughout my life, liars never minded I watch their lie. Clearly defeated, my life’s c’est la vie. 

    Bald Fact. Celebrity Bill designed himself Roy Cohn Clone. Not Facing Things the Un-American Way. Holding that Political Alliance Is Held Above Principle. The failed course itself, Roy Cohn 101. As Industrial Giants are also wedged, refusing to face their own blame for their own lost bottom lines. Ruining the Environment as our spot in the Universe is. Dancing on any old bottom line, till next scapegoat necessary is polished as good as deceptively new. 

    Why not anecdotal Partial Bald Fact? Once upon a 1986 time, Paul Simon, of Simon and Garfunkel fame, personally, and specifically, inquired whether I’d carried his toupee from the Stylist to his Brill Building Office. While Bill Ritter and our talking consisted of him contriving a Fall, 2023 Scene. Face gleefully thrown up. Thrilled with his “I had no idea who you were out there” gnat. Then “I can’t handle this,” and his back faced me after glowing “honestly” right at my eyes. Back facing me, glancing at two security, “take care of this.” I’m a Bill Hallucinated Pawn on his checkerboard. Amazing Wonder Woman Sade is still on ABC. NOW that’s an ovation.  

    Wonder Woman is the other life interfered with. Bill Ritter stamping me insignificant has me stamped her stepping stone. Her? I’ll take pebble. All I need is an Atom Ant. 

    Superstar Sade Baderinwa, Real News Desk 5 & 11 Anchor. Liz Cho shares with another regular dude at 4, but is the Real Anchor at 6. At 6 All About Bill is fed copy prepared by others. Having already stage hogged 5-6. Bill could be funnier, if not just self-inflated. Allah/God doesn’t hate. Where Bill got the idea God is a contest is his own problem. 

    I can be farther away from Ms. Baderinwa than ever before, with just a window sliver? Guess where? She’s where I can see her and she feel me without being seen looking. Woman could see me through her eye lids if she has to. She knows I need her. Probably waiting a lot longer for me than I began realizing I’ve waited for her. Possibly very long. Wrestling people promote this as Smack Down. 

    Obvious others are not Bill. News Desk Sportscaster Ryan Field could appreciate our talking more baseball. New York Yankees’ World Series Star Tim Raines would do anything for me, as I for him. Tim’s the first hand turned to and shaken on New York City’s City Hall steps by Manager Joe Torre. After accepting the team’s city keys, or whatever it was after winning The World Series. Tim’s eyes startled reaction was “me,” when Joe turned on a dime to Tim. We survived Trayvon Martin Murderer George Zimmerman indicted Sanford, Florida. 

    Already asked Mr. Field about a current player. Because Ryan Field is a Michigan State grad, where Baltimore Colt hero Bubba Smith graduated. Basketball’s Bill Russell is The Man. Mr. Field knew the name. Detroit Tigers’ Kerry Carpenter. His deceased father Ken of us three friends my last Eustis years. We’d wanted to do for home, but I had to go. Ken Bank President. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the high school’s football field, we discussed growing ourselves. Why trained attached to the phone screen is so troubling, despite marveling. Less together while all on the phone. How Baderinwa reminds me how irritable I’d be if not calm. Just entertainment, her face sparkles at that phone. Dag gum phone. If I ever break her phone once? I couldn’t prove I didn’t mean to do it. Yes I can be as mad as Malcolm Forbes was with me. Of course not with or at her. But her phone? Be careful. Funny enough anyway. 

    Mr. Ritter and sponsors are of Anti-Intellectual Depth. Where how far people are used matters. Hence, only took exposing himself. Yuk. Face always @ Security - solved for Bill yet? Clearly figurehead. Diminishing the potential of an extremely capable staff of women and boys. Obvious Road Block Ritter. His show CLOSE UP, meaningful? Not even boys at ABC should bow to someone so obviously mediocre. Empathy face, so what? Fat head is said about many a television face that’s overly worshipped itself. A judge wouldn’t even throw that out as too hostile. Just watching Ritter’s Fat Head testify to his bulbous J. Pierpont Morgan nose.

    Sorry boys. Pathetic. Friday nights Sade always did alone previously. Now a substitute boy. Man up 4 AM weekdays. Has to Male Figurehead fill-in 11 PM? Where fill-in never needed before. Get it? Watch Pathetic Bill, HE’S HIT!  

    Previous Friday, Substitute Boy Face went weird. Realizing I’d been letting Sade know I’d knelt before her well over seven minutes. Last week, the previous paragraph was a sign held up in the window. Subject News Reader left his fryer steamed. How’s that work exactly, Emeril Lagasse? Just, “Turn it up a notch?”

    Hopefully 4 AM and Shallower Still Bill will be boiling trapped together into confronting me. But no kidding, Bill’s constructed I avoid Bill by my screaming he can’t face me till correcting his lying to begin with. Plus he’s irrelevant. Honky Cracker Figurehead. Sorry Boys, we’re all on Cascading Tsunami Bill.

    In addition? Just before last year’s turning up the, turned on, Thomas Paine II notch? ABC 7 NEWS’ NJ Burkett passed his stern expression right in front of my face. Crossing Second Avenue, half-a-block from where CBS NEWS Channel 2’s Marcia Kramer had yelled, with her two poodles. “I believe in you.” While she was beside the hammer and cycle card, near the Ford Foundation. Repeating the novel’s advertisement in The New York Times Book Review, July 4, 2021. But Bill didn’t know? Who cares. Irrelevant. Don’t bother Stone Mountain Georgia Bill. My H & C Card was in front of your ABC door quite a while too, Boo Bill.

    Yes. Not my mistake. Genuine misunderstandings do not pan out Throne Sitter Ritter’s Oblivious Way. Cloned Occidental Petroleum’s Dr. Armand Hammer’s Legacy’s way. As brilliant a Roy Cohn Donald Dumpster braggart as possible. GOLIATH and all. As worthy of cutting down as the authentically ridiculous x-president McDonald Dumpster. With the Disbarred Lawyer Roy Cohn, it’s hard to find a truth ever uttered. From his loyally speaking for criminals mouth. Donald Dump even inspired to testify before the entire country and world, all his four throned years. Epitomizing thoroughly destabilizing mediocrity, and worse. A TRAITOR in that January 6 existed. Fit Prison Wardrobe Number and Crown.  

    No one faced me over Dr. Armand Hammer’s cloned Bill Ritter’s lost face. Couple weeks back, Baderinwa performed their checker move. Having SECURITY person, who’s lied most, and most uncomfortable bumping me, mumbling low. Say, “she says you(I) make her uncomfortable.” Uh huh. After this much time, that message, from him? Pretending empathy. Gag me with a box of meat cleavers. Queen Wonder Woman’s checker move. My pawn still stands. When we’re that close? Shazam. 

I was laughing telling the Ritter bodyguard. Bodyguard Quote: “Who?” Ritter’s “LA Business Writer” time in Dr. Armand Hammer’s Umbilical Phone Chord Capital of the World, LA. I can even pretend he’s innocent. But the results of what Celebrity Bill Ritter performed? Convicts Bill Ritter. I don’t need no stinking bought out Court System. And! And on top of that predicament! I’ve even walked out of court hearing a judge complain to the matter-of-fact Public Defender who told me the formula’s shut up. JUDGE: “I wanted to hear what he had to say.” We’d be a riot in court, Bill. Hands down Sold Out. Should rent a theater. Oh, right. You made one. Sade and I thank you for that. Just that. 

    Pawns who’re kings play power’s checkers for twisting out of proportion. Boys playing marbles with their checkers. Everything’s For Keeps. Taking what littler kids have. As Card Sharks of Yore passed down through generations of Bill Ritter’s lack of integrity genes. Elie Wiesel’s settling in on both his hand’s bird fingers up that bulbous J. Pierpont Morgan of yours for a while. But realize, there’s other places good people go Tiresome Bill.   

    Checker move? I repeated loud. Nodded to her in the backseat. No time to test eyes. But I’d just before said, “no matter what this façade gets away with. Guy Babylon was a special friend. Bringing him back to life means the world to me.” People don’t generally talk like this. But left no choice. Dag gum. Sade Baderinwa, our Soapbox View Masthead shined brilliantly. 

    Guy Babylon of The Elton John Band, WARPIPES, Iron Butterfly Etc. Guy was explicit he would be famous in Baltimore. Where Sade was raised. Beloved Baltimore Synthesizer Player in The Elton John Band. Won big awards for what he wrote himself. For and with Mr. John. Well placed fans treated me special, on the Internet, when he died. We all mourned days. Guy rocked my world, how wouldn’t Sade? Yet she’s represented by Bill Ritter as flimsily crafted to whittle me away. No big deal smothering cantankerous fan of Sade.  

    Smite good. Others can better Media Hype illustrations that Bibi Netanyahu was raised militaristically excited by revenge. As is the model for Palestinian recycling violent revenge. Violence a cycle. Money circulating PALESTINE can FREE, THE JEWISH PEOPLE’S NATION STATE, ISRAEL. 

    Special Baltimore. Wild recent weeks, explicitly recalling Guy emphasizing expect special from Baltimore. He'd turned the car around. Not entering the Baltimore Colts’ city that meant much to both of us. Quote the Ravens ever more. I cried the whole game The New York Jets won in 1969. For days when Guy passed. Johnny Unitas and (corruptly murdered) Big Daddy Lipscomb Forever! Right, I’m a bad TV Essayist. Funny huh? Aspiring for years for Andy Rooney’s 60 Minutes Essay Job. 

    But honest. Roger Goodell? You owe for allowing The Donald Dumpster to exploit NFL on Television. Out leveraged? Uh huh. Still? Corrupt Boy Solidarity is a known bad deal. Hello Canada! 

    Two days before the checker move, Hypnotized was screaming. Where Sade could watch. Bouncing up and down bumping me. “Hit me, hit me.” Shook my head unbelievable. Doesn’t know how non-violent I am. Hypnotized also called the cops, months ago. Who’ve no reason to come unless my pieces need picking up. Security Jeff, Ritter’s ring finger, had to reiterate reminding a new exec to “keep it all about Ritter.” Jeff shook his meathead at the Exec. The Exec stating the protocol lecture about the right way to protest Mr. Ritter is with a lawyer. I’d responded read Soapbox View. Site explains. Ridiculous how I’m framed months. Complete history there. Immediately two weeks censored. 

    Buying my way out, is already out bought as I’m alone and realistic. History. Beat me. GOOGLE reinstated for now but they’re not set up to referee bringing down Militaristic Amounts of Money that should just circulate better. How the Wall Street Ball bounces America. Thanks for finally revealed as not invited all along. Boo!

    Actually some resolve is traceable to my head around the fact Allen Ginsberg truly is the world’s greatest advertising genius. Since, you know, The Big Guy on the Cross’ Boss. But mortally? Hope I get close to tying Mr. Ginsberg and my Uncle Kenneth, JK. But who’d hire Irritable Joyride Thumper me? Though I actually did make a few tiny shekels scrounging in some data collecting. But voice? I have to have an expensive sponsor to have an independent Right of Americans to Speak Freely? Every Access owned to some extent to Style Stifled Free Speech. But to know our conceits more clearly? Power can apply breaks. So my foot is down expressing pitifully guillotined me is Not Wanted Dead and Alive? HISTORY.  

    Find a team to buy me? I’m facing that. Them, whoever. Whenever. I am the dartboard. Everyone is comfortable with me out of the way. Fine. Keep paying well portraying games. People will eventually rule as Patti Smith so eloquently sang, near fifty unpleasantly, wastefully pleasant, tearful years ago. Generations hiding while Checkmated. Revealed, known ruining the world. Over, and over and over again. Documented. Read The Weather. As what’s already not reversed? Makes worse, worse worse. Not better. Last summer worse storms were worse. This year’s worse will be worse. Stop scapegoating an excuse it’s cold here, when Canada’s not holding their own dissipating farther afield cold air patterns farther to the precise north. 

    Only we can make anything better. Not kidding. Ruining our part of the Universe happened already. Because people can’t face blame. The question and answer same. FIX OURSELVES BIG OIL + Military Weapon Rule. Ruining the planet has already unethically happened. Weather Rules. Shouldn’t be lied about anymore. No matter how much Male Figureheads afford their head-in-the-sky, beached heads-in-the-sand, irresponsible Organized Boys Luxuries. 

    Ritter specifically interfered in my life as this Television Essayist deduced. Polish, no depth. Fact his and my lives were reduced to insults? Due to his not being truthful. The Art of Roy Cohn Denying. Back faced me. “Take care of this?” Wrong board checker. Why not next time, Mr. Ritter? Your Aaron Burr, my Thomas Paine II does Alexander Hamilton. Shoot me. Anything better than whatever crap’s next from your tedious smoke and mirror meandering formula. Clear defining me small, not worth even reading me. Listen Bill. I’m tying your jugular to my guillotine. Just because you interfered with us. I’ve nothing left after this is published. Except bye to the princess, my Queen. See what she does with my jugular. Bronzed? Don’t gold plate me, please?  

    However much I admire Robert A. Caro’s literary status well above mine? Putting my hammer and cycle card casually in his side pocket, while watching my eyes follow it all the way inside that pocket and my head shake. Said no way. Without words. Damn. He knows who I am. At one point towering Caro, says, “Look at my wife.” She’s cracking up. I’m the most hilarious thing she ever saw. And we were constructing business. Our time together changed my life. 

    The Caros inspired my realizing I should see myself as I really am. My work evolved in the two years since Ina and Robert A. Caro rocked my world. When Sade Baderinwa dropped, my heart just dissolved. Soapbox View expanded from Sade Baderinwa imagery. Her as Masthead, all-over-the-place, unfurled my shadowed existence. Illustrating that whining winning Big-Oil and twin Military Industrial Complex have been watching over my diminished possibilities too long. All along. 

    Well, alrighty then. Well enough exposed. Face actual embarrassment People of Conscience within The Big-Oil Military Complexes? Consciences should push themselves and us ahead. Not behind and further behind. Come out from under and behind your own processing of accepting world destruction. And into fully conceiving, as weather shows, we’ve screwed up. Destruction’s already plotted. This is about Saving The Planet’s Equilibrium in the Universe. Not kidding. Everyone’s already always judging themselves. It’s called living.  

    Idolizing money over anyone else, set ruination’s course. Stop denying what over-resource-exploitation “already” did. Not just oil. All the carving up of the planet, that’s destabilizing and affecting the Earth’s circling itself. Why Global Warming Projections are ahead of expected. Now that’s just old news. The Public’s expected to forget. While Bill Ritter pipes up. Glowing, immediately following weather. “Oh look. The price of used cars is expected to go up.” Uh huh. Electrify them. 

    Fed copy not prepared and read beforehand by him. I was told I didn’t know the business. Everybody sees Ritter expects His Free Ride. Only TV credential I need is described later. Ritter’s established his flaunting bad vibe. Speaking of which, the Bad Vibe Nadir Billboard Of-All-Time is Big-Oil’s Military Complexity’s Bird Fingers up America’s Noses for cooperating with their own Not Saving The Planet. All the while bragging about their half-quarter, at best, measures. Face judging yourselves as you insisted, as an Industry. But the irresponsible ones that must reverse and fix mistakes. Quick, run. Disassociate claiming at worst, indirect responsibility. Meaning? Country needs a psychiatrist, 21st Century Schizoid Boys. Paging The Bob Newhart Show. Patient’s a case with millions upon gazillions of distressed out-of-touch personalities. 

    Gas Stations not electrified everywhere is AMERICA gave up and giving up. Letting licentious pardoning of mediocrity win. It’s money in some people’s pockets. Why and how Vietnam was forced on us to exploit more. Dissolving more practical use of American Infrastructure. Made money on war, and the Soviet Union’s Elitist Warriors played they’re the elite that deserve to win at least something. As capitalism functions throughout any and every socialism and everything. Even especially people trained to think throwing away money at just themselves is the best way to count it. No best way to hide. Gazillions not circulating. Just kept for Best Of Show at the Rewards Ceremonies tickling their adulating themselves. Squanderers who give enough to feed a few poor, who could just feed themselves if the basis of money hadn’t been so ruined for the best excuse that counting money was turned into a over-emphasized joke. 

    Chased inflation till it broke us in half. No? You’re not looking. 

    So nothing really circulates over all. Why we’ve failed. While Reagan lied he had influence. While an elite still gets their touches from the circulating weapons’ rewards systems. People don’t have to guess again to see how really Wrong Distorted Nationalists are destroying what Real Patriotism should mean. God Bless Colin Kaepernick. No? No ran from reading long ago.  

    Hating the planet and environment, by denying ruined health should ethically stop. I’d left Ina and Robert A. Caro near as befuddled, while definitely more amused than me. Walking off actually mumbling I have work to do. With just my, and their, clues.

    A squashed pest is who I am? So be it. Recently the ABC-7 window curtain officially dropped on Sade’s and my available moment. Three months she knew I respected every aspect of her work life. Before Mr. Ritter struck Fool’s Gold. I’d officially only show up after The Weather. While serious news was her job’s focused purview. We’re miles away right now. Doubt she doesn’t know I’m writing about her right now. Conceited? No, Ritter is.  

    Happening actually? Their scenario is I’ve lost. Never a right to want to even meet her. So News Deskers Ryan Field and Lee Goldberg require lobotomies. Removing their memory watching my eyes bond inside Sade’s. And our over six conversations together as regular people. Security couldn’t handle those? Funny the two and I talked in the relatively same Hessian Mercenary Zones. Uh huh. Patient with Bill. 

    Only just briefly introduced? Done by a mob of women, friends, arranging cookies in the lobby that blocked security’s reach. While outside we were inches from each others eyes, while her designated driver whisked her by fast. Woman on a roller because of her knee injury, is whisked fast. And we have to be patient? Uh huh. I turned to stone in her eyes. She said, “How’re you doing?” My heart said I have to say something. “See you.” A woman said, “that’s what she wants to hear.” 

    What happened with Sade Baderinwa as Soapbox View Imagery? Lightyears beyond Muse. Not a threat till Sade Baderinwa dropped. I’d have not done anything I’ve done, if loving her wasn’t all wrapped up and certain in my heart, mind and soul. 

    Uh huh. I’d judged myself not trying hard enough to have my work recognized. However now seeing even slightly censored, there’s a crest. At least I’m terrorized by a Shallow Connection to The Uncle Walt Disney Company turned ABC Empire Bill. However conscienceless small brained Bill Ritter is. Enough historical footprint, imprinting me. Uncle Walt, I’m done. Ms. Sade Baderinwa - enemy, friend or wife? Doesn’t matter. Historical footprint planted, painted, bowed. 

    Bill Ritter tinkled on me? History. Illustration works. Is. America’s Mentally Infirm Boys Pretending They’re Men. Whatever Hugh Hefner got away with? As hedonistic as he was, and was. Sex isn’t the sin. Using each other is. God would know better how we indifferently judge ourselves. But Hefner scored points publishing what was kept from America’s growing intellectually stronger. He did publish what was Happening. Not just sex. Whole fabricated Self-Righteousness behind Evangelicals standing with, and behind, Hoodwinked Conservatism. Bamboozled Christians, I never bought that crap. 

    Out of my hands is how history works. Done. Even Sade Baderinwa herself, impossibly, as my enemy? At least I faced my specific destiny. Knowing I tried cracking open the fact controlling the world’s profiting from killing each other with pollutants - is The Big-Oil Etc. Military Industrial Empire’s judgement of themselves for their own mistakes. Guillotines drop.  

    Saudi Arabia could Donate Solar Panels to countries across the Sahara and Palestine. Saudi Arabians themselves got Donald Duck Out of Responsibility to put his hands on a Lit Globe. There’s money to change the world in their hands right now. If World Faces Ourselves. Really. Beyond diplomatic checkers. Pawns moving pawns and nonsense. However well-regarded and paid off not to further bother with the truth is. Truth is Benjamin “Bibi” Netanyahu wants more money and immunity to stop Bibi’s War. No? Why wasn’t it ended when his war just breaks everything? Netanyahu’s infernal hypocrisy. PERIOD. End resentments reasons. Not play Bibi’s Reigning Military’s King Forevermore. 

    Abbie Hoffman Lives. Creeps. Historical Manipulation 101. Chicago 8 partner Jerry Rubin knocked off by a car assassin and Abby? Suicide when finally released from jail. Hardly. That’s right. The American People don’t really need to know exactly who the manipulators fingerprints are. It’s fixing what needs undone, that matters. I’m just documenting history, as my 5 year old nemesis of the Racist Sheriff saw myself doing from way back even then. Damn right people didn’t want me specifically speaking. I don’t mind paying wrong reminding Donald Dump he’s damned himself. God certainly would know more than me. Just promised to try fixing up.

    Loss of business can’t fix planet? Uh huh. You know how to grow money. Can happen without destroying everything else. What’s it won avoiding responsibility and blame for three generations? Well beyond expecting Congestion Pricing to relieve the Military-Oil Industry’s sins. Expecting Public blind adherence still. Pushing offended driver voters to The Voting Polls. Voting for continued destroying of the Earth. While more money’s never ever enough, too. Misspent, worse. 

    Theoretically by not networking right, failing to try hard enough to be a celebrity is all my fault. Thought novel should be celebrity. But I surmounted commercial failure. Illustrating that my failure’s more than just my own lack of helping myself. Worthlessly depicted? Historians notice. Just because not Published Big. While a small publisher actually emailed it was understood, that novel, bigger mattered. Biggest agent in business said I didn’t need his help. Didn’t say I couldn’t get anyone’s. Good Reader’s Notes from other agent, search turned up. The biggest had been the novel’s preferred only choice. As hammer and cycle would be huge, no matter how much we all fall all over ourselves on top of Humpty-Dumpty me. And all Bill Ritter’s horses and King’s boys. 

    Historians understand. Joan of Arc defended France to burn alive at the stake. My honor for Girls and Women in common with another Statue of Liberty. Martyr’s fine. What Thomas Paine would advise II to do anyway. Give peace a chance.  

    What do women know? Decade back Christine Lagarde of the International Monetary Fund, in St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Turned around and pointed, cuing the guard who said, “we know who he is.” After she’d passed me, leaving at the Stage Door Right exit, and I yelled, “the only answer is to stop inflation so the bottom has enough.” Wow. Realize if we want? We really are on the verge of turning the whole mess around. Requires turned around. 

    Uh huh. And Occupational Hazard Bill having seen co-workers and I respond to each other? Created theater that his not knowing who his possible LA friend Dr. Armand Hammer’s enemy is, is my unfortunate loss. His game over. Unfurling his News Credential - as Crowned Clown. A no kidding, kidding industry. 

    Speculation about where the secret place was that J. Edgar Hoover went with his theoretical, Handler Clyde Tolson, boyfriend? After arriving at Grand Central Station in New York City at 42nd and Park Avenue? Why not Hammer’s West 4th Street townhouse. Just off the avenue, The River Styx up Manhattan’s middle. Where Hammer manipulated his brother Victor, supplying his loss of virginity with a Broadway Dancer. At the price fulfilling their required sidelines. You know. That Jesus Christ displayed as you’re kidding blaming women for prostitution, being their only source of having anywhere near any not enough income. And Rabbis got uptight concerning their synagogues’ commercial monopolies. Boys grow up, is right there in the Bible. If men hadn’t been smudging in all about themselves winning war so much. Only person in Soviet Union convicted of accepting bribes from The Dr. Armand Hammer? Woman. Boys are that conceited. 

    Welcome to Contemporary History, Rupert Murdoch. Beg Australian jail privileges. Or me, don’t care. My vote’s home rule for both the hugest Mar-a-Lago Federal Penitentiary Estate inmates. Inside The McDonald Dump Oceanside Salon Resort. Where they can replicate Al Capone in his robe by his Florida pool. Him. Him. Retired better than most every American alive expects. Sure, Wall Streeters can turn their heads and escalate debt mortgage contract obligations unstably. Undermining and ruining the foundation of American Housing/Retirement Funding. Shrivel more money, sliced sideways. Embodying the Sabotaged Housing-is-Retirement Investment Crash of 2008. Shoulders shrug(ged). 

    Oh well. Can’t fix the bottom of the economy back into complete financial circulation. As poor as poor were? Poor used to buy their own food. Now it’s aren’t we lucky lined up donating our time for people lined up to appear begging for food. Since gouge the customer rules. Income at the bottom should be enough to scratch by and that’s ruined. Buried. Circulating full economy? Not while Huge Real Estate fights each other for even more sliced up every-which-away tomorrows. Hooray! Never beaten inflation wins for an elite, themselves. Alone at the top. Surfing the whole world’s inflationary bubbled expensive bad tastes. Some day we win? A win? While having sped right through, right past Utopia generations ago. Homeless led around by computer phone screen on the street. Ran right through all Utopia’s Red Lights. 

    Overpaid Surfing Inflation. Our very own Wealthy neglecting properly ran capitalism for generations. Defaming themselves Conservative Republican is just one * asterisk. Can’t fix it, gouge customer more. Not emphasizing better the sharing of making each other wealthy, stronger. Not conceding, at least on the surface, socialism’s purpose is covering gaps. Social Security’s taken care of many lasses and lads. Compromise? American Capitalism’s biggest problem is Corporate Welfare’s overcharging American Socialism that is just meant to supposedly fill in the gaps. Brain Dead.  

    But Elect Donald Dumpster. He’ll keep up lying our Health Industry Price Management System’s not already ripped to smithereens. Pandemic money for doing relatively nothing. But now we have to charge more, because it’s profitable confused by our inefficiencies. Hence FOX NEWS Empire Heads pervasively excuse more crap among the Executive Classless. While offspring of Deathbed Lee Atwater ignore his begging God to forgive him for profiting from Scapegoating for Southern Racism. And still respect Putin and North Korea etc. Uh huh. Domino powers because they’re world leaders? Bah humbug. Earn any respect President Putin, please? 

    Respect Bill Ritter because he succeeded lying about me? Uh huh. Sue me. Lawyer Ron Kuby would be thrown out of court for his inability to stop laughing. Law requires one watch. Problem is I don’t care about defending me. Just wonder when Mr. Kuby isn’t laughing. Interview a lawyer in an elevator, something’s bound to be different. He started ours with his eyes lowered to mine, confused at the door, and said, “Hey. Neither of us talk to people in elevators. Get in.” Sue me Ritter. Bet judge dismisses anything or lawyer Ronald L. Kuby just clicks SEND.

    Funny part? Threaten using Lawyer Ron Kuby as a Teacher’s Paddle all the time. He hasn’t made a dime and probably won’t. Unless I just give it to him because we’re both impressed I end up with anything at all after committing Financial Suicide facing down the transparently corrupt Military Oil Enterprise. Spaceship Heads headed exactly nowhere. 

    Bill Ritter actually represents bowling now. Ten Pin Bill thinks he can’t fall. Some day faces he’s a checker? The boy’ll need a psychiatrist. If his Boyfriend Geraldo Rivera didn’t just self-inflate his fame. Then walk away as so many of those Psychiatric Institutions were closed when the State of New York had everyone defined as Pontius Pilate washing our hands of the mentally Ill left roaming the streets. Thank you dysfunctional Albany for Jack Crap. Enough room for Mr. Ritter to get the mental care he requires? Mentally Infirm Bill is Riddler Ritter Rich! The Face Nothing Escape Valve Warning in the Bible. Why Bill prefers not believing, so as not to believe in facing his own conscience. God is not responsible for what’s obviously not truly inspired in all the books. I’ve closed mine on Ritter.

    Anyway. Bill Ritter etched his sidewalk with me as history. Goliath’s Moat Rules. I’ve not been able to comprehend his babble on the tube in over half a year. Not a face I trust on the Telly, New York. So I’m beat. He will be too long after his enjoyed retirement is distorted by history’s creeping up on Bill The Creep. God is Everything and history everything too, Bill. Can’t claim all my show, and wouldn’t consider it. Your tangential associates, FOX and Friends would work with you. I’ll watch every one if The National Enquirer’s Mike Hammer hosts. 

    But Boys? Meet just desserts. Girls are of more worth than self righteous boys. All self-righteousness. All self-idolatry that still keeps boys manhood self-righteously pivoted against Women’s Progress. History. 

    Politics is centuries where War’s Generals were the only ones with enough Public Imagery to garner votes. Leverage politicians. 12 of 46 presidents were generals. Five Civil War. The checkered moves are that the Fix Is In since Time Immemorial. Some of my best friends served in America The Beautiful’s Armed Services. I want beautiful for everyone. 

    Donald Dump is The Burning 2000 Bush Family Bonfire’s remains. Propaganda Witch Daughter NBC mornings. THE TODAY SHOW hasn’t rehabilitated her. She doesn’t scream her father’s a criminal.  Ron Reagan, Jr. doesn’t lie for his parents. Why her? The LYING BUSH FAMILY still fronts Legal Criminality. The Labyrinth demonstrated against by The “Demons Out” March on The Pentagon of October 21, 1967. Performance led by American Pioneer Abbie Hoffman. That stupid Child Witch giggly promotes books for kids! Plague on her insulting Hoda Kotb’s Time Period. 

The poisonous Bill Rittering of NBC’s THE TODAY SHOW. Smothered all over her smiley, whiney, Burning Bush Lack of Ethics Face! Forgive us we only made a joke of ourselves laughing about destroying the world. NBC BUSH FAMILY WITCH! Whittling away, whining after excusing her father’s pathetic Boy are Boys Idolization. Ridiculous tools excusing unpardonable things. Legacy-Ritters ruling News Desks all over the country. Disseminating Oil Propaganda Views! While logic vacations. Clues? 

    Hey Vegetative Bill! Paid-Off Mercenary Hessian Bill. Drunk in New Jersey, Bill? Bill, you started it, Bill. I do things contrary to outright war. Don’t feel stuck, Martyr Me Bill. Can’t face yourself, so everyone’s to blame you carry a corrupt meathead on your fractured wobbling Honky Cracker neck.

    I’m ruined. But Bill Ritter stands no historical chance. Sue me, Characterized Face. Moral Claused out of ABC. Publicly hiding Bill how long? The company could be owned by Ron Kuby for the crap Bill was allowed to pull. Go ahead, test him. Arrest me, people without the power to buy all the world’s lawyers necessary to jail me. Right. That’s a lot of judges sitting on courts to get away with it. Why the Sanity Clause at the top in the form of The U. S. Supreme Court, damns many to ya’ll know where. Jerks. 

    No one gripes about why the Police protect me. Neuron-less Bill. Walt Disney’s memory would be happy ABC dumped Lying For Big Oil Catastrophe Bill. Big-Oil Dump Waste Product Bill. Your move, Bathroom Throne Bill. 

    Walt’s spirit’s up-to-date, nonetheless. Bill pretending empa-pathetic Billboard Face Bill has relevance Lying By Bill. Nine months not changing oil-war-toy stripes. Not my place to promote rehabilitating Bill. Your friends try. We waited The Long, Long, Goodbye time. Comfort riddled Bill. Just like Churchill to me. Satisfied Racist America’s fooled the country still. History smirks - Churchill’s Racist Pale Face + Bill’s.

    Hitler’s Management Team was destined to lose. Sacrificed Soldier Sport. Right. America was defended and some real cutthroat scavengers came out of WW II. Legacied to me? Mike Hammer of the Commercialized CIA founded and funded The National Enquirer. And Big Show On Upper West Side Broadway Bill. True, America. The Big Show we’re ruined in as plotted now. On Broadway NOW, America. Everyone’s lighted up. Needed to show up for The Big Show, Defend Bill. Really reckless boys played king, and damage done must be fixed. However paying off their infernal debts happens. 

    World Destroyers didn’t fear what not facing themselves meant. Not a problem, nor stopping our fixing ourselves now. Except excuses made similar to those that hides the racism that still exists in damned Honky White Cracker Rule. Donald Dump allowed to portray he’s not Racist Him. Biggest Lie Ever!. Lock his Accessory Children up supporting his criminality! Your Mother’s Killers! I’m a loudmouth? You can tell me by the way Witch Nancy Reagan faked everything. Pharmaceutical Industry Lawyer Daughter found her Hollywood mark. PERIOD. Both, Warlock Ronnie and her, Witch Nancy. Both laughed hysterically loud throughout their mixed up lives. Saying she met Reagan at his union office claiming to fear she’d be chased as a communist. Understand? Lie(d) that bad those two liars. 

    And comfortable Bill. Reflecting he’s at a loss dealing with me. All his coworkers and I have been, more than he deserves, nice. His Majesty Bill. Hardly matters any satire’s stretched. How corrupt Poor Rich Bill is. 

    But, we pardoned selves. We can’t fix it, so Ruining The World Gas Kings won. Face you’re the money that didn’t grow up, Huge Oil and Not Adult Military Complexities. Historically defined, criminally lying however mis-portrayed. Bragging the world’s depending on oil billions. So dollar figures threaten everyone when they’ve gone up or down, in whatever direction necessary keeping ourselves wrapped up by a world described by Goliath Clowns describing Catastrophe as manageable swallowable poison pills. Mass Suicide By Car. Slow enough? Wrong answer and bad question if fixing world’s faced. Proud Gasaholic World. That’s right. Want to ruin the world obvious Bill Ritter Clones? Dragon has your backs.  

    Hiding more over-polluting generations and saying improvement is improving while not good enough. PERIOD. Should be no pollution at all is a goal. Never, Polluting’s obvious goal. Smoke-and-mirror more generations then. Narrated across the country by Oil Destruction Shill Bills. I’ve been a dartboard of deviousness long enough. Bull’s eye Bill. I’m cool with that. Can’t change world’s destruction? Left The ImPrint.  

    Can’t change world destruction? Then all Earth belongs to “The Fools” as Patti Smith’s Power To The People reminds. Weather’s messed up, and screwers of it still deny messing up still. To devious heart’s contents. Flashing incessant commercials. Don’t ride a bicycle! You need Low to No Cost Car Insurance! Public umbilical chord Figurehead Bills gave ourselves more decades relief from facing full irresponsibility. For what was solidly hid from The American Public for the last three generations. Six decades hiding behind PR. That Gas Exploitation’s not already set up destroying the Earth. Already as path is not reversed. Ruined Earth. PERIOD. Math there’s blame. 

    Americans prefer not facing that roads are, and were, always subsidized? While train and monorail paths are expected to compete from bottom up? Congestion Pricing is a Scapegoat Fraud. Charles Komanoff has the Mathematics right. But principle of scapegoating the more guilty, is very wrong too. We’re pretending to fix. Train people supervising the taxing of the already belligerent majority car drivers? That’s politics of disorienting destruction. Authoritarian Rule by Managing Disgruntlement The American Way. 

    Scapegoat Excuse 101. More Americans can be made more mad, by objecting to reducing their gas use. Politics 101. Compromise what you need from it. Hence continued not fully facing how over-polluting and taking too much from the inner core of the world - caused earthquakes in Oklahoma that didn’t have them. Company Owner rams his sports car-suicide into a Oklahoma roadside embankment. Earthquakes caused after the gold mine was piped from the rocks. Destabilizing Earth. Poisoning Earth. No one saw hating the planet is making money? Stopped watching Murdoch’s FOX to describe, arguing, how stupid the liars preaching is? All on Board Planet Nonsense. Pretending competition means trains can’t transport us better. Pure propaganda fabrication. Subways on train schedules. Can’t? Could so. 

    My advertising conscience, from way back in the 19th Century isn’t wanted. PR, The Public Relations Trade, led lying for the last three solid generations that our economies die without exploited oil. Theme the film about Big-Oil and Spy Land mixing, Three Days of the Condor, illustrates. A serpentine killing war to provide what the people want. There was no War to Provide Monorails for the People’s Evolved Transportation Needs. Big-Oil pushed everything aside. From beginnings well back into the 19th Century, actually. My father told me so. Actual weather now illustrating how too far we’ve gone. But don’t forget. Gas is our economy. People easily lied to for three generations. Everyone blaming anyone else. Gas looked good a long time. But never destined to be a part of breathing, keeping us alive.  

    Everyone in America is wrong allowing Gas Providers to not include ELECTRIC charging everywhere. Everywhere gas is purchased. One type of attachment for any electricity. Time framed for ease of in and out maneuverability. No one needs a full charge. Slip in and out and improvements can happen overnight, from just using what needs to be done. Electric would work profitably better right now is known. If the Chemical Indentured Head Industries weren’t just so eccentrically lazy with their wealth. 

    All over our country, figurehead, virtually-all-male, news readers typically. Commonly, boisterously brag, and in commercials, that we’re getting to solving destruction within decades. Scapegoating fixing now, how far the damage is already overdone wrong and has to be fixed. Seen others and #1 ABC-7 Bill Ritter #1. Others on News Desk? Decades proven not as dumb as Bill. Pretend sweet Bill. Hiding Mediocrity behind a brazen soullessness. As evidenced by Mr. Ritter having no business inserting himself in my life, but making sure he planted himself as such. No account Bill. 

    Economic experts threaten the country. Huge Oil has our backs. But don’t observe what’s already seen as needed reversed. Hurricane habits are different. Global Warming Denial is Pathetic Machismo. Poisonous mind control of American. On the news, no less. Making everyone waste time naming their cars. Mr. Ritter was specifically asked, “Why are you doing this?” Mr. Ritter, for history, audaciously laughed, as usual. Oh, it’s a nothing. Can’t change the future, living Bill’s past. Joke pushing gas decades past practicality. We need reversed, now. Hurricanes are much worse now. Set in motion this century. Fact. I’ve been watching. 

    Bill Ritter really brags Pedal-to-the-Medal Gasaholicism. Cover-up over generations huger than WATERGATE. Every eye should see his as mine have. Twisted Bill Ritter, covering up for irresponsibility. Carl Bernstein might wink, looking at my card left for him at 1 Fifth Avenue. That’s right. Huger than WATERGATE. What Republicans wanted was to know how much the Democrats already knew about them. Can’t hide from ripping off America this long. You lied yourselves into infamy. All on your owns. Big Oil Mentally Incapacitated Military Compulsion. Bury Pale Face America, America. NOW.

    Wrong For America Donald Dump. Even pronounced elect him to Save the Gasoline Pollution Engine Industry. Car Industry bailed on Transportation Industry well over a century ago. My father said in 1963, beside our electric lawn mower, with the patches on the electric chord. Always, “even” way back before the 20th century. He was specific. Even back then they knew. “It was all about making batteries small enough.” Now we’ve sat on close enough too long! 

My father was clear. They even knew the answer way back in the 19th Century. Well before 20th. Oil Industrialization pushed everything else possible aside. Out of the way. We talked about the Stanley Steamer. How it completely died. Gas still the American Blood Stream. Competition NOW? B______t. Things aren’t reversed? Gas already plotted, our planted destructive course. Pacified, still wrong. Three generations on and more. 

    The Big Money, indeed. Jon Dos Passos who wrote the novel, The Big Money described proportioned America. He lived out life, pasteurized as notably protected conservative. Kept alive. Not that much of a real stretch seeing the intellectual knew where the bunker was. Like me, born a real bastard. 

    I remember my father’s broad smile. Looking out over the ocean from Ormond Beach, Florida. Where Standard Oil’s John D. Rockefeller retired. I was 8. He hadn’t prodded, and I was never commanded a specific responsibility. Though they knew their son was on to stuff. He was proud, looking out to sea, that my answer was I read about where that week’s swim meet was. I’d said, “yeah, eerie here” and we both marveled at my feet and an unintended jig. Swear, alarmed me too. 

    Guillotine on schedule. An ABC California Exec letter was chock-full-of-misrepresentations. Covering sloppy security’s excuses. Real two wrongs not right. Letter falsely stipulated, I’d caused a lobby disturbance. Purposely never entered the lobby, except in the old days when ABC Security and I smiled the Messenger Center is around the corner. 

    Women had blocked Security from stopping Sade’s first three eyes-to-eyes words with me. Passing within wonderful inches of each other the very first time. No one forgets that. Other times together no matter how far we’re kept apart? Woman has my heart. Lobby? We don’t need no stinking lobby.   

    Three months ago before her knee injury sabbatical started, right after inches eyes, that night 11:35 PM, our last viewing chance blocked. Thoroughly screaming me into the street. Yelling I’d go to jail. Hypnotized stared at the jail screamer, remembering police aren’t interested in bothering me. Later that night, two women cops came into the 67th Street Chase Bank where I abused vestibule privileges providing security. Typing relatively undisturbed till morning. We nodded, they laughed and stayed well over five minutes specifically looking straight at me. Giggling sometimes. Cops and I said goodbye. My morning replacement bought coffee a couple times.

    Where I’m back now is as a guest. Astoria technically not the street. But not the future, however Superstar Baderinwa twirls my jugular. A hippie had offered refuge upstate. Before my some more visibility started. Where the recognized Great Poet Edna St. Vincent Millay was laid away. Her former Shipping Industry lower-level executive husband kept her from being disturbed. Famous On The Road editor Malcolm Cowley made the trek to the near-enough cabin house. Beside a quaint valley, dipping up and down, terrain dirt road. Near-the-mountains. Mr. Cowley said she was fine. Imagine where she’d have pushed, if husband hadn’t gotten away with settling her mind to his satisfaction? Confined Astoria Recluse Me? Felt her little home eerie to look at. Quaint, not where voices at that time reached anyone. My Hippie Friend knew I saw what I came to see. I want more chocolate cake. 

    Women’s rights, transportation policy. Both controlled, kept in line. Wylie Post and The Great American Satirist Will Rogers. Both died in North Alaska. Both probably aware then, the oil-gas-car combine was destroying what trains could accomplish better at certain distances. Still then. As exploitation evolved vacation entitlement’s Oil Burning Monsters in the sky. Evening News promoting polished pristine air travel. While train and bus stations are for briefly confining diffuse-em-out-of-here, hustled up, huddled up masses. 

    Not against money. Especially reality. Bad joke though the monorail still doesn’t reach Walt Disney World from just Orlando. Plus nearby Kissimmee, Florida. Already train from Orlando through Lakeland to Tampa and Beer Garden Paradise of the Anheuser-Busch Joyride Parking Lot. Light-Rail filling gaps, would have made it smooth for tourists and Floridians as well. But that gold mine, Burning Bush Idol. Scorching gas had freedom obsessed American Minds in a Jar. Jarheads. And Politicians and Business own each other separate from interference. Separate from the Third Estate so American Thought Control sold the public it’s The Public that preferred cars. While trains were dug up and buses that would have made better, safer trains, became more gas burning gold mines in some people’s pockets to further the planet’s further detriment. 

    Living on in Forced School Busing to supposedly End Desegregation. When schools could have been built in between neighborhoods. I could have walked to either Black or White schools myself anyway. Gas Guzzlers made the Focus of Cleaning Up America was Racist Lying. An American Comedy Dream Scheme. Not then described by television, and even now not wanted realized by All America. Have the money, but don’t care you’re destroying the world? I know. People already realize they get away with not knowing. Should know better though.

    Americans would defend Americans. But Celebrities are their own Paradise. I’m guilty of trying to pierce Mr. Bill Ritter’s Harem. That’s okay. Rupert Murdoch couldn’t buy everything, nor even all their and his allies. We’ll see. Want to see? Nailed Clown King Murdoch? Admitted liar in American Court. Sean Hannity still hasn’t defended lying to me when my email revealed him a fraud and hoax. When he threatened me 30 years ago. Your battle ax, Mr. Australia’s Most Wanted Who Gives A Crap Murdoch. 

    Cause sorry world, our success stopping him in Australia meant Murdoch’s mediocrity was sooner launched on the wider world. Supporting Totalitarianism Everywhere. Admitting in court lying to America. Lock The Donald’s Handmaiden Rupert Murdoch Up! He has the money to pay for it. But hike up those phone privileges as was done by American Monopoly Capital to the class most capable of stealing or going berserk. Provided cells for further disorientation and reminding they’re being kept how they were distorted in the first place. Fostered American Resentment Forever 101. Pets Sheltered in Cages wrong too.

    Convenience of America, fill er up? Fat pockets still digging out and washing away Actual Earth Infrastructure. As with the destructive sandstorms that further destroyed the American Midwest’s wasted topsoil. During the Great Financially Manipulated Depression of the 1930s. Starting in 1929. Look closer. Happening Now. Whole Planet is Wrong in a Big Way Destroying Ourselves. Wobbling. 

    The penny is the foundation of money lost sight of rendering it worthless. Already sliced as smithereens. The general public is disgruntled just looking at them. While computers are already way ahead of people collecting pennies in the trillions for a few dollars more straddling everything dysfunctionally behind shredding money. But not their programmers? Who’s to know? Sorry not a dream. Financial Nightmare. Fix it. 

    My reason for allowing myself to use the Chase Bank Vestibule to type a few months. Nice well-educated Security Woman, in the morning, bought me coffee a couple times. Reason? One time I’d not moved fast enough. Wondering who got away with catty-corner parking a limousine in Rockefeller Center, in front of The Today Show window. You Can’t Park There. A driver/bodyguard, grinning, stepped right in front of me and opened the door for David Rockefeller, Chase Honcho. I’m stunned. The driver’s grinning and David Rockefeller’s at my adjacent right. John D. grandson who would know Executives wanted his grandfather to take all their blame for their monopolizing. Mr. Rockefeller lowered himself inside, sharing grins with me the whole time. 

    No one of David Rockefeller’s stature has that happen unless I’m trusted. We could have slapped each other silly. Just couldn’t hide that people really knew I was a boxed recluse. Robert Vaughn, The Man From Uncle, did the book, ONLY VICTIMS about the commercial harvesting of actors in the anti-communism blight? In Rockefeller Center, he ran from me when he saw I saw him. Not kidding, man just ran. I ran after him. That’s what got me. How did he get away? I was curious as bleep. How’s that for friendship telling me yes, I’m a target. I liked that show. Probably saw every silly one. 

    Get Smart, so on target silly. Watched Smart’s Producer Mel Brooks once walk around the corner to a video store that’s a bank now. He’d come out of a 56th Street building where, nearer Second Avenue, I got to stand and watch Helen Gurney Brown pass with a retinue of men listening. I’d once, as a partly lark, handed her husband, David Brown, a terrible draft of the hammer and cycle after noticing which office was his days before. The biggest agent knew I tried with a couple others. But honestly it was always about the novel deserving the best. Him. That agent uncommonly just happens to be the most hated and really the best at the same time. Accomplishment. Yep, our world. We’re all guilty kissing up. 

    Similarly J. D. Salinger made bucks for people looking for him. But I’m beaten, history wins. My only responsibility. For the moment, Charles M. Fraser films on You Tube. That’s GOOGLE too. GOOGLE might have to ensure no irritable person interferes with their saving the world. To the satisfaction of Boy Rule. Night the cops wouldn’t come, two women cops and I hung. Uh huh.

    Thing is tweaked male ego irritably itches its own machismo irritation. Chest of Ritter’s literally grows. Thrusted out over those around the News Desk. Same as how he couldn’t stop watching his chest overwhelm me. A lot’s gone in Bill Ritter’s avoided conscience. Expressed inability to see himself in his own way. Essentially Glass Wall Bill long before I was deemed “take care of this.”

    Two weeks ago, two security blocking. Loudly thanked “Sade” for bringing Guy Babylon to life as he was so significant to me. Night before said dosvedonya as my novel’s Terry really is Sade in my heart. Novel’s New York Terry was separated from her American hero Hank Greenway by Moscow. Spoke loud. “I don’t care what they get away with. What’s happened bringing Guy back means the world to me.”

    From the book Terry’s real life model told me, after the second time, “you can’t come back” to the restaurant where she worked. She saw me coming and walked up to me in Union Square. Said, “Why didn’t you come back?” I had been tested. Too much. Terry was already the only thing that made sense in the novel. I was shaken up. She walked back to her friend. Sade, I thought no one could replace Terry’s pinnacle in my mind. My heart repeatedly beats you’re so.  

    Last Soapbox View Essay had soap opera scenario clarity. Necessitated blocking. Looking at GOOGLE’s “we’re looking into” PAGE NOTICE no bargain. But third request, a break back in for now. For now? My last essay said I’m registering as PRESS with New York State ID if I’m in the lobby.

    I don’t intrude in people’s lives. Checker move I make her uncomfortable. Hypnotized’s head dropped to listen as her confidant. She giggled at me, first, but your honor that could just be laughing about the entire thing the entire time. She’s a star. 

    Poor dude’s most uncomfortable. Observable, by her, in my face two nights before screaming “hit me. Hit me.” Obnoxious. Confronted there’s extra money in it, to record touching him? He glowed stopping that fact’s confirmation from out of his own mouth. Burbling don’t touch him, bumped around me. Finally had his Mike Tyson backing someone down moment. So enjoying himself, couldn’t watch his fantasy not happening. Following his own dialogue in his own meathead. Only one showed ready to play, for months, over and over. “You again,” he’d grin. Not seen since Sade moved his checker. 

    Mr. Ritter’s news? Gas Engine commercial followed by hybrid. Gas could have been fazed to less use long before now. In hang-on-to-em if you have em America. Three lying generations later. And right. Bill Ritter’s face claims he’s worried, but. Cornell University’s Lee Goldberg, Weather Chief? His eyes twist hearing Ritter’s voice modifying clear weather warnings in sultry Propaganda Bill Speak. 

    Blame? Can’t face history three generations later? Not kidding anyone. Three Generations Lying. Last essay satirized racing Bill Ritter’s moat around the princess. Sade, it’s a goof. Trophy Wife you wouldn’t be more trophy reward. Except you know. Me wrapped around your finger.  I fit. 

    Anyway. Guy and I were swimmers. Relay against me, I have no sprint. But distance? See who quits first? Outlast anyone. Baltimore’s Michael Phelps could go as slow as me. We’re both laughing not spending the rest of our lives swimming 24/7 to see who won’t quit first. I’m bragging, he’d win. But I’d make him last days at least. But if we can eat and sleep? He’d beat me. Not stopping I stand a chance. That’s right. Michael Phelps doesn’t let people back down. This is one of the funniest things he ever read and he’s capable of making me do it. 

    Still think I could outlast Michael Phelps, maybe. He is a sprinter, not distance. Though he handled the 200 Butterfly so it’s not like he can’t do any distance. Anyway. Try me? We’d both try and not stop laughing. Doubt he practiced laughing under water much. His Coach would know. Probably helps?

Tenth Grader vs. Me Ninth Grade? Beaten by a hundred yards in the 400 yard freestyle by one-of-the-fastest sprinters in Florida. After my high school graduation, he’s a university sprinter. Beat me by the same hundred yards swimming an hour straight. Four years before, beat me 100 yards in five minutes. Near three miles, same 100 yards, a football field in an hour. He’d trained using me as the only person who could swim distance the exact same in practice as in a swimming meet. 

    Thing is I didn’t try to do that. I just did it. Coach looked at me once. We could do “whole practices of thousand yard swims.” Same time every time. I’d just done three in a row. “Well. We’re not training you. We’re training the superstar.” Good Coach Tom Boniol. Became a renowned  Swim Coach at Fort Lauderdale, Florida’s Swimming Hall of Fame. 

    I quit swimming. Decision made 1975 Easter Week when I met Guy at the University South Florida. Next year Guy quit too as we both had already plotted specific goals outside swimming. Neither of us would join a fraternity. Funny. 2000, camping. I showered near the little lake, that used to be smack dab alone in the middle of the woods. The University of Central Florida had grown humongous. Cop said I’d been observed and he doesn’t allow interfering with pristine “Fraternity Row over there.” He noticed I barely turned to look. 

    Phi Delta Theta’s Tal Bray offered to do do all the work. I could have been the name starting UCF’s Fraternity Row. There were no fraternities. Tal really wanted a first fraternity at a school. Tal spent a day with us in Maryland, and we all had dinner at Ronald Reagan International before he flew back to Tampa. Tal wanted that UCF fraternity bad. Hated to disappoint. I was there to learn about the revolutions of history. Not network my life. More friendly enemies and perhaps why Guy laughed so hard about our not joining fraternities. Thanks for the memories, Sade.  

    Anyway, I’m illustrated done. If Sade Baderinwa’s purpose has been all along to see I’m just strung along till Mr. Ritter’s succeeded at what he did in seconds? Then I am cut out. History is stories go hazy as legends come true. History is my heart that just bled all over History’s Operating Room floor. Not playing when I win. Done. Meaning something beaten can be my responsibility too. Plus I got to feel in Love with Sade. Wrap me up. Don’t give a … alone. 

    Simply marvelous to a point, of course. Shoving history down history’s throat. Proud to donate. Sweet rock-and-roll pulling Bill Ritter’s lack of ethics up revealing no backbone. Not one. Effervescent Pleading Face. Can’t anyone help you with me? Glows, self-satisfied. Seeing Sade’s and my Bibles over each of my eyes? Liked laughing #1 is ahead. Oy vey. 

    She and I aren’t this immature. Woman’s right to see. Figure out. She knew I fell in love with her and couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t oh I’m dazzled, answer my hots. I deserve you deserve me. Uh uh, no way. It was months. Few seconds, here, there. She knew. 

    So why won’t the cops help Mr. Ritter humiliate me? Watching me, as I’ve learned, they know I only protest independently. So anyone hurt isn’t defending me. And the night Hypnotized called, cops wouldn’t come? Wrong way, middle of Columbus Avenue, man ran by with phone above his head aimed filming me. Chased by a squad car, with flashing lights. Both went separate directions after passing also wrong way me. 

    At age seven, on the front porch, my father said he’d done something where I’d always be watched. No he didn’t, I did. Near six when racist Groveland Four Murderer Sheriff Willis V. McCall’s dog bit me? I screamed, crying, I’d sue someone who trained a friendly dog to bite. I was young, not realizing. All the older white kids had a hoot laughing. Knowing being sued was the Racist Sheriff McCall’s Lifestyle. 

    Sade Baderinwa could have even seen me on TV in 1986. Briefly on National Geographic Explorer when she was turning 17. I only know she let me feel she knew something about me from our eye exchanges. Long before intervened with. I was told by Bike Zoo Pioneer Jeremy Rosen, way back then, I was “big in Belize.” I can see “hundred dollars a day” smacking The Third World between the ears. Many bicycle couriers, from around the world, smiled at me in New York City. A pay scale uplifting workers. Sabotaged by the necessity of leveling couriers off, because buyers’ incentives are low cost labor. Less than what I’d fought for three years to achieve for everyone at the company working harder. Cold, reality. Owner got his money. His company as was pointed out. 

About The Hammer and Cycle Messenger Service getting as far as a Literary Agent helpful Reader’s Notes? Precise help. Used as editor’s review. Literary Agent was a Washington D. C. bicycle courier who began at his new NY company later after I quit the same day. Publix in Florida won’t even look at an Application from me, because after 14 months they didn’t give the bottom Bag Boys raises. I was good. I walked off, didn’t even punch out but came back for the check. Everything went to propping up higher than Union levels for the Upper Crust Career Publixicans. Supermarkets make pennies on the dollar. We strangle ourselves. 

    Agent and I only met digitally. He soon enough left that courier company for another, then eventual Agent Celebrity.  

    Not financially solvent. No phone to identify as qualified to hurdle Facebook loop-de-loops. So as FACEBOOK page? Honoring my uncle the very First 1897 FACEBOOK Editor-in-Chief. I am assassinated by meta/facebook. Who can blame my walking away? Toyed with, I historically win. Destroyed. Mr. Zuckerberg is too huge for a dart to pierce? But what sticks is we’re all Donald Dumped. Ingrate wins destroying FREE SPEECH that’s still happening. Stormy Daniels witnessing for hours is a prop, identifying the show as specifically Lightweight Presidential Campaign fodder. Pre-designed. Personally? I don’t believe they even had sex. His case and predilection is just hugely interrupting.

    So EX-Twitter’s initial dart just required prove human. While algorithms never the lose scent. The sixteen year FACEBOOK account was savable with a new phone or someone else’s. Both would include new hurdles. But after sixteen FACEBOOK years of every time the algorithms stance is - THEY never met me before? Mark Zuckerberg, history. History that you don’t require attention. Or your boys are as corrupt with the worst. Don’t know? Don’t care others designed Mark Zuckerberg chose to get the bird finger all the way from the 19th Century from my uncle, “Advertising Legend” JK Fraser. Direct from the 19th to 21st Century up Mark Zuckerberg’s stuck up nose. Aunt Aurora’s up your other nostril, too, for women taking backseats to Boys@Facebook. No? Doubt that’s not true. Why don’t you smoke-and-mirror Congress to get me? They’ll buy and bandwagon anything selling. We are uncomfortable with begging on the street? But from Congress we have to live with it?

    Real dirtbag achievement, Meta-Titan Mark Zuckerberg. Your buddy, Facebook co-pile money sitter, in Asia? Brags give those with less something to catch up. A minimum for nothing wage. Something can’t necessarily argue with, at face value. Tools. Something the elite can congratulate themselves on and evade their complaining about. Many times over, already. While both of you FACEBOOK FORTUNES are atop our lack of real deliberation about financial circulation. Believing born to rule anything. Give the casted off from out of your not financially circulating piles, Zuckerberg and Rich Ex-Partner! Without the energy to fix money, you are both relatively worthlessly playing money on Escalating Markets, surfing inflation, every day. HARVARD U. whiz-bang Money Monopolists. Aren’t we lucky shiftless arrogance showed up to keep up boys ruling boys ruling boys’ toys for boys.

    My uncle was Editor-in-Chief of the very first Cornell University Facebook in 1897. As yearbooks were then called and Modern Facebookers likely learned. Bird-finger-across-two-centuries Mark Zuckerberg metaFacebook. How much do you think Cornell preserved of The Soapbox View on FACEBOOK? Behind-my-back, Zucky Baby? Your movie Shakespeare! Maybe Sade asks if I ever get to visit Cornell again? 

    Sixteen years of participation in obviously preferring my time wasted. The stooped Republican Senate should clip a medal to Mark Zuckerberg’s concave chest. CENSOR ME? Defined your own self, KING. Big deal. Self-inflatedly got rid of that scum merchant, Sean Parker. One who stole from the rock-and-roll bands. Propaganda King Mark Zuckerberg! Muskier than that nonsense not refurbishing exploited South Africa and African homelands. By that defamer of Tesla’s name. Polishing his rich pile for a few dollars more. Cheaper TESLAS Coming! At Mega, Not Logical, Fake Affordable Housing Prices no doubt. 

    My problem is the baseball reference, “swinging for the fences.” May 2023, Officially Submitted letter to the United States Supreme Court. About how if women’s choice evolved with a properly functional adoption system? We’d have been getting past this albatross. Women confronted by men complaining women are not doing what boys want. Women throughout history forced to kill themselves having to do what men demanded. Exaggeration? Nonsense. Saving babies? Universal understanding of birth control working for women and not against them. All their fault, no more? Uh huh. Woman’s Choice! Don’t want babies killed either, nor excuses ruling. Woman’s Choice!

    Lock Me Up for maintaining exposure that the Burning Bush Nightmare Election Night 2000 is their January 6. I slammed the floor, exactly when that night former President George H. W. Bush came on the screen. “No, this can’t be.” I saw. Before a damned word exited that weaselly mouth. Stealing from Americans and Al Gore and Vice-Presidential Candidate Senator Joesph Lieberman of Pennsylvania. Understand they understood they knew they were defeating change. Stealing from Al Gore and the American Public. Refusers believe the ominously slated ruining of the world doesn’t need reversed? I believe the Earth needs our reversing ourselves.  

    Screamed at him on the screen. Before H. W. said anything. “What’s happening here is cursed!” H. W. chortled, “Now hold on.” Then Roger Stone showcased the desperateness of political classlessness in Broward County, Florida. I stood up that night to, “oh not that bad.” “No” shook my lowered head. Repeating “that bad.” As H. W. kept delivering bad news. Seen wrong especially then. Groundwork for worse, Worthless Donald Dump. Repeated several times, “leads to worse.” 

    Even felt search an estimate, a decade-and-a-half away as Dump was. In the morning woke to they got away with it. Well before Florida’s and U. S. Supreme Court played Carnival Courthouse Charades. Identifying themselves as a fully corrupt Full Houses. Gin Again For Everybody. Prohibition Over. Gas Up. Jargon Enterprises Incorporated, partly financed by the Koch Brothers is incredibly overly egotistically people pyramided. Imagine not facing those riddled consciences, then do? 

    As puzzles go? A Tri-State Metropolitan venerated News Desk personality’s some mountain. Superstar Sade Baderinwa. Why Superstar?She is and I’m writing. More than honored inspired loving you. Hoping for whatever you want. Or not. Yours to frown upon at your pleasure. Stopping our talking, meant my heart’s denied a proper outlet for recovery. All wrong telling this heart to not speak up to you. 

    Bill’s soapy opera. From the beginning, SHE could have sent ME fondly away. So nice connecting to her possibly knowing my Baltimore friend Guy Babylon of The Elton John Band. Special. Obvious our brief talk wasn’t risked.

    In Buenos Aires I’d been brazenly, laughingly, hee-hawed at when the car was passing that night’s concert stadium. Where The Elton John Band was playing. That night! That stadium! Right there in that car I was in. Passing that stadium in Buenos Aires. I saw the Entrance Gate. Felt us that close. Yelling I want out! Stop! “You don’t know Guy Babylon” laughter. “Can’t … . “Oh come on. Stop. I want out.” Their English never better laughing all the more. Faces as ugly as desperate gets. “Oh come on. He’s my friend. Just over there. Stop the car. Let me out. I can take care of myself.” Car sped up very fast. I remember wanting to go through the window. I remember the car just going very fast. My Argentine companion’s eyes huge. Not able to answer for her friends or what I endured. She sympathized not seeing Guy. Still hard to comprehend bad people, even in her life, were designed to smother me. As Will Rogers made sure he was quoted about Argentina. “There’s something wrong going on down there.”  

    Yeah. My heart fondly remembers watching Buenos Aries Jewish Kids, picked up by their parents after school. How did they get there? FDR pretended he was god too, and sent American relatives squandering for other places. Even where Devious Nazis were celebrated hiding too. Uh huh. 

    Saw Guy on TV the next day on a doctor’s office TV on the wall. I knew something was stolen from me. Stop the car. I can take care of myself. Sped up very fast. Wanted to go through that window. First time since college, seen on TV. While waiting for others finishing in a doctors’ office. He and I had been busy. Important, but doesn’t matter. I fell In Love With Sade whether she knew Guy or not. My bet is Gigolo Bill was once known in LA as Hammer’s Rolodex Ritter.  

    My time in Maryland with Guy was a couple weeks before hunkering into Russian and Soviet History. Guy said, “Watch this,” while we three friends sat on the roof. Guy yelled, “Hey Dad.” Dad turned, with Mom, and looked up discovering Guy had been on that roof for years without his realizing it. And said so. A definite understanding Guy was turning a page with our Maryland experiences.  

    From their country family home, we visited Gettysburg. Where Guy insisted, “say anything, something.” That was “I don’t want to be here.” And stuff he prodded out of me. Driving Guy emphasized Baltimore would prove special for me. We both loved the Colts. But he turned around from entering Baltimore. Driving, looked at me nauseated against the backseat door. Said tell him what I’m thinking, I’m not vaguely repeating. Sade was eight then in Baltimore. 

    Turned around without our visiting our special Colts bond. Before the Colts were kidnapped to Indianapolis. But Baltimore’s been as Guy promised, special. Where Sade grew up and part of how we made Soapbox View stronger. In spite of ridiculous interference. Baltimore, on my Research Trip into AMTRAK’s northeast corridor train stations. Found to have absolutely no electric outlets for business travelers. Or Baltimorons, recalling John Waters documented saying he and his friends joked that a lot. Gayle King and Oprah Winfrey are Baltimore Stars too. 

    Precisely no electric meant not as advertised about the Premier Northeast Train Corridor for Business Travelers. Guess the hit TV Show, The Wire, publicly popular, justifies a twisted-go-around. Including Massive Security Man kicking a phone across the floor while pushing the black man owner. The man found one outlet behind a machine. His friend was slow with them. Staring at me the white guy watching a long way across the huge room. Massive ceilings made train stations great. Human Management Mediocrity not so much.

    First Baltimore morning my eyes opened on a painted stick by the nice picnic table I’d slept on. Traditional Pole said PEACE. Outside William Randolph Hearst’s suburban fenced-in studio complex. Central city, train station. Hearst where Sade’s mother worked and Sade’s star catapulted to New York City. Can’t deny, everyone knows. Ms. Baltimore Sade Baderinwa catapults. Guess which pole marks my Baltimore home? 

    Elton John fans treated me special that night Guy was honored for having lived with us. Dishonors Guy Babylon for me to ignore Sade Baderinwa’s respected right to simply shut my heart off. It can just be a compliment. Turn it off. I couldn’t offer myself except respectfully. Guy made sure we could, if she chose, feel this close. Guy and I met my high school senior year Easter Week Vacation. At the University of South Florida in Tampa. I’d not been invited to the YES Concert in Lakeland that upset me. “Hey. Take care of yourself and get a ticket and drive there.” I didn’t know. So Guy advised our friend to invite me. We took the train, Sanford to Tampa. One of the last nights they danced and got me underage in a bar where I tried Scotch. Fraser’s Scottish. Guy said, “Wait,” and came back to the table and sat across from me. Said, “I have to watch.” Then laughed, jumping from the table, at my shaking face. Never appreciated alcohol’s bitterness and Scotch is intense.

    Disturbing decade back. The National Enquirer’s Mike Hammer as overwhelming as Argentines. In Mike Hammer Serious Citizen capacity. “You didn’t know Guy Babylon.” Floods through me people shadowing. I don’t know Guy Babylon? Real Guy Babylon Elton John fans know Mike Hammer is a joke framing me. I like Mike anyway. Never before understood the intimidating eyes were all about me. Good memories. Easy win, Funniest Enemy in History.

    “You don’t understand, I have to get away,” my military subcontractor draftsman friend said. Four decades ago after college. Just a few years before in college had said, “They won’t let you say it’s wasted money on weaponry.” And, “You don’t understand why I’m even allowed or wanted with you?” I wasn’t even 21 yet. Uh huh. About me? Guess that made me Teflon Chuck. Long reach of the Military Industrial Complex President Eisenhower warned. Did I know? Precisely then, no. We were friends. I didn’t jump up and down. Proud Medical and Military History family. My visits to Catholic Church were with them in George Zimmerman indicted for Trayvon Martin Sanford, Florida. 

    But on reflection? True. I really am Three Days of The Condor too. Facing “The Fools” burial of me. Except Faye Dunaway’s black and everything I want. What does everyone else need from ripped up hypocrisy? Dissolved Glass Ceiling NOW!

    Brought it up with my mother, I could marry a Black Woman. Soon, later at a lunch counter my comment was, “but she’s too old for me.” Yeah. The gorgeous Black Woman had a good time too. Roundabout exactly when Folasade Baderinwa was born. 

    Also questioned my mother precisely about that Military Industrial Complex empire name? I’d just heard watching Eisenhower’s speech repeated on TV. Dabbled. Then my mother’s expression just meant something else to figure out myself too. She did look worried. What exactly to say, when she knew I watched a lot anyway. Oy vey. 

    Exactingly revealing how Bill Ritter’s face flew up thrilled with his having “no idea” who I was. “Believe” him. “Honestly.” Can’t I see how his eyebrows convey his whole face’s fake sincerity? Yeah, got that. And two men, not boys, at his News Desk already had civil acquaintances with me. Ritter struck knowing Sade was next to talk with anyway. He’d been eyes dropped, by co-workers, meaning Bill Ritter cannot defend himself as turned out. Feel stupid? No. Saw awareness at ABC. Stand tall, try to not get knocked down. Whatever time it takes, obvious woman’s leaped me from out of my freaking skin. 

    From the train station going north, walking that Baltimore creek, past Hearst’s Empire’s studio, then park was ritual. Could visualize high school kids finding their favorite rocks along different water embankments. Her too. Round-tripped at least four-five times. Even way up yonder once to Applebee’s. Saw buildings and descriptions of the History of Big Ship Sail Making. Reminded of Mr. De Martini who came from the Big Sail Sewing trade. Original Mr. Big City Bicycle Messenger Bag Maker below Houston Street, in Manhattan. To me said, “Notice The New York Times misspelled my name.” We’re a hoot.

    Baltimore’s lack of train station progress, precisely exposes the  essential understanding that Public Relations subversion by the Gaseous Industries needs reversed. Destruction on overdrive still. After their categorically known, and documented, three full generations of circumventing a better overhauled and overall transportation system plan for the United States of America for Americans. And the Republic for which we stand, bowing down to Mad King George was the worst when added especially with their bastard deviant Donald J. Dump. 

    Remember those Volkswagens hippies took up? That used less so burned less gas. Walt Disney’s engineers couldn’t design the Monorail idea Disney imagined. His engineers then found one designed in Germany. Then right. The Gas Conspiracy enforced little less useful circles and Uncle Walt dies young. History Lives. How many convicts are lined behind Donald Dump just for that? 

Exploiting pollution plants kept open. Train Stations were built centrally as community centers connecting towns, where maybe you need the car locally for long trips. Every Interstate Highway System should include Monorails all over the country. While industry wouldn’t change, people moved, channelled away, preferring indifferent convenience at The Planet Earth’s inconvenience. 

    Forget building Suburban Light Rail. That was dug up too. But where Sade and her Mother(Now Education) had worked, is a quaint rail. Nuisance-d because there’s a crossing where cars cross track. And stream’s difficult for anything else. But still, design should be everywhere where car and train never cross the other. Safety’s sake. Accidents that don’t have to happen is Wrong Design. Efficiency never crossed money from deep pocket minds.

    Fixing America will not just happen asphalting and re-asphalting our surfaces. Monorail America could. Everybody look! 19th Century train track, as with overextended domination by gas engines, were good while they lasted. Capitalism thrived. Now generations of suicide by our own hands needs reversed. Time’s wasted three generations, slowing down technology’s improving us. Remember The Future. Goal is within reach of our not being bothered by driving. As advertised. That will still just be arrogant zooming, lined up on Interstate, arm-and-leg-priced, High-Priced Freeway Parking Lots. 

    Longer hurricane seasons and tornadoes of hurricane-esque duration? Mean the gig’s up. Earth’s environment’s downhill. Lies can’t change what Deniers can’t face lying to and about their own consciences.  

    The Baltimore AMTRAK station had no electric outlets for customers, nor Business Travelers as promoted. Contradicting advertising the Northeast Corridor is Extra Special. Extra because more of the country should have had the same broad leaps better covered by trains. Instead considered pawn Robert Moses, designed dependence on cars. Hooray! Have Scapegoat Will Travel. Move Excuses On. The Power Broker’s author Robert A. Caro confirmed. To me, staring into each others’ eyes. Moses indeed confronted with “oh come on?” Direct in Moses’s eyes? Knew it was corrupt. Knew corrupt not evolving trains, and Robert Moses closed his book and “actually ran.” Pillage 101.  

    I ran on the idea I’m the writer I aspired. The carrot very real. Until Soapbox View’s Thomas Paine II materialized. Then gob smacked seeing Big Money’s not letting me in. Not just condemned by Bill Ritter & Dr. Armand Hammer’s traceable fingerprints. I am a part of Full Blacklist History, after all. Soup Nazi, no soup for me. Ego-centric Executive America dug my hole, Bill Ritter buried me in. In love with Sade Baderinwa. I’ll take it. All I want anyway, besides her wanting me too. That’s the hardest to imagine at all. Not my place to think for her. We’ll see.   

    All I needed was walking papers. Confirming Sade and I performed acquaintance formalities. We did. Friendship is how relationships are built. If I wrote too far on Soapbox? It’s written where we’d have been if left alone worked out. After my train tour that started by bus to Ithaca’s Cornell University? News Desk Cornell Alumnus and I had a short mention of my trip, next to his car. Thereupon, soon enough, Goliath Ritter sliced his standardized scythe forthwith.

    I knew. Thomas Paine II is historically designed to flame out facing what’s been manufactured as not needing faced. History. Misguided Tyranny’s Legacies. Documented statistics everywhere how the environment is going downhill based on how humans are destroying our portion of the Universe. PERIOD. Not just Male Hierarchies. Though huge boil, Minnow Bill’s his own problem. People sacrificed all the time. My honor to try. Women, boys probably always rule maybe. But future women can build from someone reaching through that glass ceiling. To guillotine my own head off, maybe forming a crack cross that despicable emblem of boys framed better rewarded than women. History. Seriously not begging Mr. Bloomberg or anyone to finance my fight. He, former New York City Mayor, Emancipator of Society getting Smoking done Outside.  

    Mr. Bloomberg even stared face-to-face with me, eyes-to-eyes. I left hand saluted, turned and left. Salute meant thank you for trying to stop idolizing guns. That close to history I wasn’t running, I was stunned. I realized maybe celebrities were in that car, and turned around to Mike Bloomberg face-to-face. When I was first censored, blocked, I stopped by the house and told his Driver. The Soapbox View is being censored so something. I’d paced maybe seven minutes before the Driver showed.  

BLOOMBERG finance my playing ping pong with Big Oil’s Serpentine Militaristic Conspiracies of Individuals? My martyrdom polished every which away? Who cares? I’m to be over? I’m done then. I can see history. Hope time heals fears. Fried to an historical crisp. Ta da! For this is my Epilogue. Epitaph: Soap Opera Twisted Censorship of Common Sense by Thomas Paine II, honoring Open History’s Stepped On Stepping Stones, Raisa and Mikhail Gorbachev.

    My life necessary to warp-light a TV Celebrity’s amusement twisting HOPE from humanity’s grip? So be it. Cringe seeing myself on screen. First starting college, in the hall, a young woman said “ooo I could see you doing weather.” ABC-7 News Weather Chief Lee Goldberg now knows why he makes me giggle every time. He was with Sade when she and I bonded. Nice talking Cornell by his car. 

    But maybe Master Bill Ritter gets his own block next to Laurence Rockefeller’s on Cornell University’s Founders Wall? Next to my aunt and uncle for preserving Cornell’s honor from my deviant pretend, nipped in the bud, scholarship. Get me! Founders Wall falling? Cornell University Founders Wall is taller than ever!  Freud Nephew Military Industrial Empire Contractor Edward Bernays? Under it, that militarizing cigarette instituting scoundrel! Now restlessly slithering under Founders Wall with that Racist Pile of Groveland Four Murdering crap Sheriff that’s not just dandruff. Waiting to stage that Upper West Side Broadway Musical Hit, Waiting For Bill O. You’re still on Bill. Whole world’s your stage now Castle Bill. Tell them Bill. What your face can fake forever denying any and everything. Exactly like that Donald Dump farce, too. Imagine Knight Ritter’s face lying, “But I’m a liberal?” You know where to stick it Bill. 

    Everyone’s eyes on New York’s Staged Face Farce. The Elements of Corruption as understood in the Life of Big-Oil’s Five Star Pentagon General Bill O. Ritter from  … . 

    Some year. Preceded by a dinner where, I didn’t see, but heard Mike The National Enquirer Hammer grunt. Asking how I got away with the hammer and cycle ad in The New York Times Book Review, July 4, 2021. Beaucoup money. I lost teeth, making sure I never asked for money to have that one last chance. Screamed “never had anything to do with Mike.” Didn’t, and vindicated. I feel bad. Be that as it may. Hard absorbing my being boxed in penniless. I don’t appreciate her being used, so I’m constructed the user of her too. Good woman. 

    Thing is she fit Mike Hammer’s and others’ qualifications for My Not Having a Legacy. As Mike The National Enquirer reminded and now epitomizes, I’ve no success. None. Anyway. Fascinating how personal relationships grab heartstrings oblivious of other stuff. Hard to absorb her circumstances were used. Screamed what proof do I have. 1. Well the fact raised culturally where my evidence still isn’t relatable for you. Right. Hammer was satisfied and approved. Mike Hammer even went with us to hear Steve Howe of YES at The Bottom Line. I slept. 

    Understandably, Mr. Howe was amused. Actually started the show announcing the band’s back together and pointed at my head. Sitting where The Bottom Line knew he wanted me. When family was contrived to come after me confused in 1978? I’d had published in the school newspaper how YES’ new album actually reflected the work I was doing. Of course YES knew who I was, long ago. My mother’s last year of life our only real time alone, was when I told her about my favorite band I’d found. She said, “Come here, now.” And hugged me for dear life saying, “Thank God for YES.” And I thanked Ahmet Ertegun too. Think YES heard about that? Dag gum, me too. 

    Steve Howe said, “he wants to know.” I’d been carrying a small company’s loads of work for a year. I passed out.

Now clearer why Mike Hammer always represented controlled anger in those eyes of his. Thanks Mike’s, and my, friends. Finding out’s been a blast. Mike’s friends may even have him laughing now. I don’t know. Touchy subject and I’m constantly working. But one thing is for sure. Console Bill? Give me a break. I’ll hand him the knife. I don’t give a crap, slice away. Enjoys undermining women’s careers while just a propped up boy figurehead. The Mountain’s all Bill’s territory! Among others, a previous male figurehead, Bill Beutel left ABC News 7 gracefully. Everyone at ABC sees the pinhead positioned to limit women. Dumb Bell. 

    Formula exists all over the country, so how wouldn't Brazen Bill appear the disgustingly worst? Ritter last to know? Doubt it. He knows he’s dumb set up by dumber. But Castle Boy can’t see beyond his own fascination with his own transparent nakedness. Avoiding realizing the worthless of he and his co-sycophants. Taking what’s inside the Earth that’s best left evolving there as a solid planet. Planet already scheduling vacations around worsening storms! But we’re just pawns in the convoluted checkers games. Blaming people to not be comfortable with it, just makes it worse for Bill knowing the good souls of this world survive when the plan might be destruction of all. It’s in Bill’s pretending to care eyes. Get it? My and his story required touching many points for a full observation. Liars themes usually just based and financed on The Great Hide, While Not Letting Em Seek. Hide and Seek. 

    1984, My sister Helen was told in our last North Miami Beach discussion. I’m a writer. Never retire. She offered a small fortune, her home, not to become a silly New York City Bicycle Courier. How I dearly love my father’s first, Helen. Offended I’d compared her to Auntie Mame. Looked nothing like Rosalind Russell. To me. She could do the smile. Most certainly. Entirely disinherited. And she did grin all Rosalind Russell-y through her story of her dear family man friend in the Oil Business. Who had whatever he wanted in his job traveling all over the world. I’ll be nothing unless carried by a company, my sister said. Yeah, real career. But I was her brother Malcolm. Labelled crazy for what I think about. This was 1984. My father Malcolm’s daughter. Dag gum right, we went out to dinner.

    I’m a very loyal person. Always agreed people that leave people for others do that. It’s very real I was Single well over a month before Avalanche Sade Baderinwa dropped on me. Except, of course, I’d reasoned out things confirming she had my heart since first introduced to the NY Public two decades ago. Not that Sade would be better. If that were the case, my scruples couldn’t process. Sade sunk my ship. At least put on a snorkel, or something. Look at the wreck? Not as big a surprise as Baltimore, but I apparently have gills. Dirty, can’t the water be cleaned? 

    Ritter’s checker, assigned to speak for her? Absolutely real live human yo-yo. My favorite line from Cornell graduate Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow. About yo-yoing Florida, New York and back while I was doing that. Coincidentally, never finished reading the book. My copy even had missing pages. Thomas Pynchon fans laugh, “lightweight.” But caught right others. Wait’ll you hear about Cornell’s other great famous author Vonnegut’s contribution. 

    Hypnotized threatened “boyfriend.” Who would have done, what I did, and have for nearly a year. Actually I’d said “try using boyfriend” too. Cracks me up. After the Four Train Station Research Trip, Ms. Baderinwa was seen phone filming me when the first, starer at her, threatened me with unseen knife. Won’t fight back, frustrates people. But people who can’t think through muddled logic, are disrupted riddled brains. Riddler Ritter? I remember panic. Wondering about her. Looked to my right, she’s standing, as not done, at that time, and our eyes locked. Hers above the phone right on mine. Then I put my bicycle in front of me, blocking the perpetual starer who skedaddled.

    There’s a small museum in Baltimore on early 19th - 20th Century trains. As Electrification is at the Wilmington Station further north. In addition to our very own President using that small beautiful 19th Century Train Station in Wilmington a long time. Blaming the American public for choosing over-emphasizing cars? Is what PR accomplished and is guilty of for three generations. Chagrin hearing cheaper Tesla’s coming soon. Affordable Housing Pricing anticipated, relatively useless to overall progress. To repeat a relatively important point. Henry Ford’s Model T lifted this country from the bottom up. The Racist got that right.

    Male Figureheads are spread reading news all over the country. Still sell the environmental mess as best handled as our not being completely to blame. No one’s personally blamed, so fine. Advertising accomplished much. Selling gas engines still. That people don’t plan on changing and aren’t expected to. Lots of gas cars not sold. Not expected to be transitioned to electric, while sitting doing nothing on Sales Lots. As Big-Oil is not responsible for any tears. A powerful enough cadre of executive level economic surfers. Mr. President? Al Gore? 

    Merely coincidental, or not. Alan J. Pakula famous for his conspiracy films? Died, killed in a car crash on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. More desperate to buy writing time, I’d looked elsewhere for an agent late 1990s. Digital’s arriving anyway, no one’s paying upfront so try. Anyway. Pakula’s Office had me messenger deliver something to them, the very next day. Leaving the receptionist said, “I just wanted to see.” Theory plausible Pakula iced so we never met. Too close, on my head. Among offices I remember everything about enjoying going to. People working.

    I’ve been told people heard about John F. Kennedy Jr. and I together behind St. Patrick’s Cathedral. I liked feeling alone, independent. Something coming to understand I was known about. Smacked crap out of me. So my fault delivering something from me to John’s GEORGE Magazine. Thanks. And forgive Bill the Boy-Toy Conspiracy, why?

    Of course capitalism solves problems. But imaginative capitalism more. Solar Panel companies should donate panels plus installation to financially struggling Synagogues, Mosques and Churches all over the country and world. Despite pleasure taken in thinking there’s myth in the tradition. Religious institutions are part of building our more sociable world people are busy in. Forget ten per cent. Give em a dollar. Something. Forget bad people, bad’s infiltrated everywhere. Churches, Mosques and Synagogues are locked so as not to be stolen from. World’s that messed up. 

    Doors Jesus Christ wanted left open are locked. Too many homeless? Shouldn’t have shredded money so much, so the economy’s bottom dropped off and the capitalism of charity’s reached astronomical amounts. Not cared about and lost to financial circulation. Cost? Gouge customer. Flatbeds of solar panels should be methodically filling up the same whole neighborhoods. Not just pick-up trucks spread at various isolated spots. Visibly not enough is being done to reverse damage. Longer worse hurricanes are not getting shorter, Case Closed.

    Insinuating Sade Baderinwa is instrumental to the guillotine’s finally wiping me out? History, but not all. Woman’s nowhere near sillily checkered as checkered past, Checker Bill. Established early on, having purposely stopped in front of me, ignoring me, to wave to someone inside the studio. My heart screaming what’s going on? Oh. I’m Sade Baderinwa’s, not her stepping stone. Established last summer. Sade knows. My responsibility has always shown. So Times Up! As Artist Zephyr, who passing me when he resigned from Elite Couriers and also in the graffiti film Wild Style said. “I’m outta here!” History’s torched me.

    Winner ABC-7 News’ Bill Ritter - Boy King of an entire nation of figureheading boy news readers. Their ventriloquist’s shrugged shoulders, paid eloquently enough. Compassionately explaining our luck is the oil industry’s not collapsing. So be relieved relying on their holding the country together, that’s thoroughly economically unsound unless ruling to destroy the world. Unsound economics when factored in Absolute Ruination of Earth Infrastructure. As already proven is happening, due to their demanding the planet’s bowing before their ruthlessness. Shredding environment drowning in oil etc. Many industries take too much from the core. Further unbalancing our planet. Wobbling our gyrations. Unbalancing Planet Deniers, Job Openings projected to rise. But hopefully disappear. 

    Lower and higher gas prices keep us tagging along. Wall Street can calculate buy low, sell high. Boys calculated fixing the damage isn’t affordable while twisting the last Three Full Solid Generations. Bigger storms! Hurricanes doing different things, differently. In Florida hurricanes were a nuisance of preparations. Till bouncing up the East Coast striking jutted out North Carolina. This century I was back home in Florida when a hurricane criss-crossed Central Florida. Back-and-forth. Atlantic to Gulf. Back to Atlantic. Not done ever before or since. Or even horizontally across state like that once! Hurricanes rely on warm ocean water. That one was so big the width of Central Florida was just a stepping stone like Cuba. Get it! The weather is different. We’ve allowed ruination of the environment to have gone too far, needing reversal. Messed Up = Weather Evidence. 

    Former Florida State Senator Dr. Jim Glisson, who was sponsor of our country’s first Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, and I had our first and only consultation. The very next day after that hurricane. On a Ferran Park bench. First thing we talked about was Nature doing what Nature has never done before. Uh huh.  

    Denying? Let’s not judge ourselves for the irresponsibility of not judging ourselves? Thank you George H. W. 2000 Burning Poppy Bush. CIA Ambassador to China that ran on bicycles till ruining their countryside was profitably exploited too. Gnerations brought from fields for low wage factory jobs that didn’t evolve a stabler lower class but one that kept countries from China exploiting selling cheapest fore Party Executives controlling everything. FACT Leaders of CHINA! As if Pawn George Jr. didn’t know. Photographed behind a wheel, driving Secrecy’s Russian Warlock Queen President Putin. Reagan Gigglers, all. Nixon’s opened butt on China’s leadership. Let Capitalism run itself and retire on the exploited money that’s already enough. War among the world’s wealthy has to go or all of a lot of people face guilty verdicts no matter how precise the scapegoating goes. That has us all behind the Eight Ball as the saying goes. 

    Here’s a what’s coming. DISNEY and many companies were enticed into making New York City’s Times Square great again. DISNEY had their characters mimicked and mocked and reduced to free enterprise scavengery. Not illegal my eye. Times Square became a Billboard Monstrosity. Lit up from the floor throughout the entire air into the sky. Drivers have no business distractedly near that much advertising surrounding traffic. One or the other? Remove em! Insult to all Commercial Properties that Times Square could have been made into a real center. It isn’t. Just calculated extravagance. Two more studios as good as ABC’s Good Morning America’s? Would have made Times Square pivotal. Now just stuff. And DISNEY is being chased downtown for passing drivers headed to Jersey in the tunnel. Not even tempting, if Times Square were successfully redone. Silly as it sounds? Not kidding. Bad. Bad City Management.   

    My novel used Dr. Armand Hammer as a fulcrum. Even dead, denial I’m not a target is admission. Bill Ritter on witness stand? A Hooter. 

    Circumstantially proven by lies? Dr. Hammer’s noted for shrewdly using shenanigans to get his Occidental Petroleum Libyan oil rights from a Libyan prince. Making Occidental Petroleum huge. Big Boys just let one of their own in. Powerful enough to stop anyone. An edifice that could stop anyone. One of their own let in. Period. Just as no one stops Putin’s bitterness over oil money. The wedge of illusion is endless money for war and violence is never enough. Just as “no matter how many car lanes are built, traffic fills to parking lot capacity.” - Gridlock Sam 

    Bill Ritter’s chest actually puffed up. Happily noticing how his largeness belittled smaller me. Speaking of puffery. My friend Kurt Vonnegut, even deceased, still vehemently hates Mr. Ritter’s friend Geraldo Rivera. Long before that celebrity hack, Rivera, raked in bucks retiring his media career in Rupert Murdoch’s fold. Me, dribbling Pandora’s Box to the basket? Bounced Roy Cohn around, but right, shouldn’t convince people to risk their careers, making money for them. My Charles M. Fraser films are on You Tube till sycophants liquidate me there too. 

    Very hated by Kurt Vonnegut - Geraldo Rivera is a sycophant companion of Sean Hannity. Who email threatened my physical thrashing in the early enough 1990s. For my basic email reducing his conservative conspiracy to a hoax. Still not thrashed as promised. I don’t pace FOX, and haven’t visited in a long time. Rupert Murdoch’s 1221 Sixth Avenue Castle in resplendent FOX TV Personality Screens. Highlighted by NO CAPTIONING that emphasizes no content whatsoever even if the sound’s on.  

    Ritter programmed my defeat. Thought Sade had my application for something else. Even before Thomas Paine II. Networks weren’t hiring me. Ritter’s a goof. Got his signals crossed. Thank you “I know nothing”  Ritter. Sergeant Schulz, of Hogan’s Heroes, Bill Ritter. Illustration accurate as Ritter portrays self innocent of involved framing me. 

    For The Record? When Colonel Klink, Werner Klemperer, and I talked? His face was as serious non-Klink as writers described. We bounced around the fact it wasn’t raining. Nice memories despite my targeted life. My Targeted Life? Wasn’t that already on ABC?

    Bill Ritter and his personal security aren’t real ABC Security. Security Jeff, Bill Ritter’s Clyde Tolson is different. You are, Ritter, indeed, as you’ve managed to portray, the most selfish boy in New York Television History. NOW World.  

    Across the country male figurehead Bill Ritters permeate. Pitching the Militarized Oil Legacy is just Deniers Delight Specials. A lot of Oil Money was made circling back and forth wasting NAPALM ON VIETNAM! North Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh even personally spent time in America giving the chance to give up on the Colonialism Hoax. That was then expeloited as running from communism that could only partially exist anyway as what we are now keeps evolving. Stopping political and economic evolution is why Conservative Republicans are outright condemned. Or me, but Thomas Paine II is committed to The End. Ya’ll?

    Bill Ritters Proliferate. Okay, no one’s to blame. While “Fools” disingenuously pay each other extravagant fortunes to avoid being identified as the reason we’re already late! And so obvious the women at ABC are so much better than Boy Figurehead Bill. Potential of WOMEN at ABC held under the glass ceiling, walled specifically for and by Arrogant Bill.  

    Historians crucify images for a living. Why Rome and Nero both survived. Yet the memory’s of playing a lyre while people watched each other torched. ABC knows Uncle Walt’s name is ALL OVER THIS. He was a Monorail Innovator and things obviously could have been done differently. Though Disneyland's monorail already circled nowhere else too. Disappeared fingerprints all over the results. With or without anyone’s approval. 

    ABC was founded, separating from behemoth NBC to combat monopoly. Not just construct more? Design is everything as anyone knows. Disney World’s Opening Day Marching Band, actually received a special request to allow too short me in the 76 trombones recruited at the taller same height for the Opening Day 76 Trombones in the Hit Parade. Some resume, actually personally rejected by the Walt Disney World Marching Band. Plus two time visitor to the Walt Disney World Lake Buena Vista Preview Center.

    Honor you are Sade. Beyond ever imagined for myself. Floored isn’t blunt enough. Guy Babylon of The Elton John Band wanted Baltimore to be special for me. Where he’d be a star. Last summer’s initial days, I’d worn a Loyola University sweatshirt since lost. I want a new one? I ensured I wasn’t your, Sade’s, pest. We shared respect. I’d only allow myself seen after The Weather. When her serious news work was done. Many months Security never bothered. But back from my train research trip, I wanted her starers gone. Mr. Ritter saw our getting closer came to a point. How stupid this is. He knows he pretends he doesn’t know she’s nice to him till this is over. Just shut up and go play king somewhere else. This city’s been hounded and destroyed by too many like you maintaining it’s all for you. Go soak your head in your own moat, Bill. 66th Street to 67th’s become The Women’s.

    In Baltimore passing several, back-and-forth, times on my walks I took a picture of the Loyola University sign. Though near Sade’s possible place, I’d made sure not to memorize the address. Made sure not to read it. Strictly aware a game’s been fraudulently planted on me. As misguided and wrongly obsessed. Stalker. This long, can’t prove it. Except to endless new security personnel baffled by the assignment. Just act offended. See? He’s around. It pays. Nowhere in New York have I seen Security require so many replaced, and not just revolving, people. Not how aware Security Offices function. Only reason I’ll talk to any Security now. Know enough? You‘re the people that disappointment is in, for not having the faces to face Racist Bill. From Florida? Me too. Why I face full of … Bill. 

    All believe, for a time, Bill has a clue he’s obviously playing at. Oh no, not baffled Innocent Bill. No such thing as Five-of-a-Kind, Bill. Well, maybe? What are we playing? Last week the tall one came out, specifically to eye me. I spoke to 3 ABC people down the block smoking cigarettes. Laughing I said, “Look at that, he came out. Okay. Anyone asks the only television journalist who will ever be allowed on the set of Law and Order 3 times is going around the block that way, to come around on Columbus over there. But I can tell you I’m going home that way. See you.”

    By all means EQUAL TIME. Ritter did comment in the pseudo-conversation “above my pay grade.” 

    Baderinwa knows. No woman would put herself or me through this long without understanding my place. Bad Joke Ritter. Intimidated 5 perpetual starers away. Then Hessian Mercenary defends his own whining as defending Womanhood. Designing himself lying he’s a victim under everyone’s noses. 

    Disgraceful in light of my good friend Guy Babylon. When announced, in his kitchen, I’m about to start Russian and Soviet History I’d waited my whole life for? Guy’s father Guy said, “Well tomorrow we should visit Camp David.” Nice stream outside the fence. Mr. Babylon asked, “Are you ready,” when we left after I’d paced thinking. Walking ends up pacing, what can I say? 

    That is a point. Doesn’t matter what Bill Ritter knew. Flagrantly thrilled displaying knowing nothing then or now. Paid to just read reliable news? Liar. ABC knows I can sue them because of you, Stupid. I can take Bob Iger for anything his lawyers can shake him down for. See? This is a problem. Can I sue for $0? If I ask Ron Kuby, he can bill me money I don’t have. Remember, why I’m so susceptible to knocking off? Definitely, Ritter. You’re much more trouble than ever worth. Okay. But you are nothing to me. You never should have intruded. Dominate males project this crap all the time. Your wife know you’re just a little boy, playing Player? Expecting all women to venerate being used by Pimp King Bill. Yeah right, sue me. 

    Just because Bill Ritter’s a funny boy. Just jokes, no guillotine here. Own the courts, don’t have to hide fingerprints. Get it America? 2000 and January 6 both. Justice isn’t blind. It’s messed with. Terribly messed with. Bill Ritter and Roger Stone are already cellmates. Seriously. Me forgive you Ritter? Tickle and taunt Stone a while, that’d be sweet. Otherwise you knew you were never welcome. Friends don’t dominate friends lives. You have. You proved meaningless as a co-worker at the News Desk too. Because? Because Bill Ritter Loves Boy Kings. Bill Ritter as blind as his Naked Emperor’s Nakedness. 

Ritter projected interrupting as amusement. Why last week I mocked him with a Bible over each eye. Mocking his incessant mocking, required only his laughter. From within his whole, pleased with himself, entirety. Admitting to just being a Celebrity Without a Real Face. Roy Cohn Proof is Mr. Ritter’s use of - doesn’t matter when subject pretends accusations can’t exist. Donald Dump’s still, sort of, surfing and surf was up for Bill. Sort of ambition, I guess.

    Only so much at hand to work with vs. Utter Canned Dishonesty. Delighted he was confessing to how I was unknown to him. Who cares, irrelevant! Ending “Honestly” stared straight at my eyes. Believing the lie is the secret, the talented know. His eyebrows meaning bow to his hugeness’ win. Wasn’t even informed he’d entered us in a contest. Celebrity Slut Bill. Bill shuts door is history will not hide Bill behind his bogus front. Back to me ordering Security to “take care of this.” Dragon’s just transparent lie still. Mr. Oil Knight Bill Ritter. I change tunes all the time Bill, but not to confuse history. Stories expand. Bill? The Saying is, “you’re stuck on your own petard.” 

    Henry Louis Gates, Jr.? Harvard University Advisor to Colin Kaepernick, whose image is a coup de grace in My Film that frames my neighbor Groveland Four Murdering Sheriff McCall’s place on history’s dartboard under Cornell’s Founders Wall. Professor could notice Bill’s ego. Ritter indeed, quivered. Racked with my neighbor murdering Racist Sheriff McCall. Oily Honky Cracker Bill. Last time locally, with PBS Radio Celebrity Host Brian Lehrer? Dr. Gates said specifically himself. He wanted “to be remembered as a defender of Free Speech.” Bill Ritter? You’re cooked. Turn off your own stove. Thank you, Professor. 

    Master Billy Boy Ritter, King of Boy History. Quite the leap, News Reader. White Whale of a Male Hierarchy Glass Walled-in Ceiling Figurehead. Vomit me up, Dip Stick. Summer Bible School I played Jonah in our class’ film. So this’ll be twice for me. Look at Me Bill? Where should I tickle? You’re all darkness down here in your empty conscience. I want out. On three now, vomit me up Bill. Fashions himself successfully swallowing me. Looks good on your crown? Fine. Can’t vomit me up? Satisfied swallowed? Your conscience, I can sleep anywhere. Sade wake me up when you get around to it. I see your eyes? I’ll be out of Vacuous Bill  instantaneously. Friday’s eyes will do. I just want out from under Bill the Used-Up Tool. 

    Meanwhile. Thank you everyone. Academy, anyone. Not my gig anymore. Cool. Votes in. Well over sixty years, started by wanting to be a historian. Then responsible action required novelist leap and wow, here. Bill Ritter impossibly kinged himself in a game of chess. Superstar Sade Baderinwa’s Queen’s move is checkers have their own Can’t Put His Own Toys Away Bill Box. Shut it, Bill.

    Here’s where I GIVE A SHOUT OUT. Hate that expression. Stephen Colbert of Late Night With Stephen Colbert. Who, when we passed, face-to-face, was recognized by the blue of his eyes exactly on mine. From those times he had the camera especially zoom in. Hadn’t seen his face. Recognized the blue of his eyes. His grin past me as big as mine ended up. After turning back around, befuddled, wondering, did that really happen? Did. My little card, promoting my hammer and cycle novel’s advertisement in The New York Times Book Review spent a long time on his Broadway Theater’s street corner pole. Longest? The Daily Show where South Africa’s Trevor Noah starred. 

    Now I name drop Passages. Charlayne Hunter-Gault and her husband Ronald’s South African Winery. She and I rode the Carnegie Corporation elevator down together soon after I arrived in the city to ride the bicycle for a living, May 15, 1985. To think about history and not have a normal job’s time consumed by someone else’s project. Ms. Hunter-Gault’s husband made sure I saw his nod, from the hallway, when I delivered to their home. After the time, 1986, I offended a South African, behind-glass, with my short poem. 

    Wasn’t supposed to make a mistake delivering the first authorized request for Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s first VISA for his first American visit. Poem was harsh, with gist Whites Get Out. But obvious however framed had to hit home. I anguished over it. Conceded to myself go for broke. Money flowing throughout, really is the only answer. 

I’d made copies and put them around the reception area. When I turned back around, his was the angriest face I’d ever seen. “What is this?” I bounced across the floor in a couple of steps. “But don’t you understand. The only way we can end apartheid here.” Reminded power it’s about FACING THE BIG QUESTION. Not backing down. Informed I’d be fired and would never be allowed to ever return to the Carnegie Corporation. Ever again as remains true. Huge crush on the mailroom woman. Yep. Leaving the Carnegie mail room I knew that was up. Repercussions rule, face em. 

    Explains why my Black Friend wanted us standing so near the stage. When Paul Simon had that Central Park Concert soon enough after. Not kidding. He’d even said in the van going. “You know alone in there, they could have done anything to you?” Adnan Khashoggi. Somehow people got that I’m onto something else. Last time, near my package carrying career end? I was in the Paul Simon Office with something round-tripping back to Big Sky Edit. Weird mystery solved. The two Paul Simon Office Women really were talking about me. Gulp.  

    So not backing down. Markets dictate? Dictators dictate markets too, history shows. Great Algorithm Server War Battle now. My realm not directly money, but everything relates. My speaking in The Great Hall of Cooper Union where Lincoln was catapulted to the White House, was added to by The First Tuesday Reading following the 2016 November Presidential Election of The Donald Dump. Roy Cohn’s front step. Read, and made films, from my hammer and cycle novel from the sidewalk doorstep of Authoritarian Scapegoat To The Stars, presidential advisor, Roy Cohn. Dead, but spirit counts as Tony Kushner’s Angels in America’s financial success illustrates. 

    While the shattering glass surrounding women and me? Remains transparently solvent. While the novel’s dent began by finding addresses, at their university sources. Emailing the novel’s website link to at least 150,000 economic, political and history professors around the world. There’s near that many including some librarians and such. For any possible novel notice. Even created The Soapbox View. Wanting just the book’s site to just be the novel. ALONE without advertising. Last time what did I find? When I only emailed the Women History Professors of the United States? Only History Department in the entire country nuts enough to have an only All Male Staff? No women? Twisters of Evangelical Christianity, Liberty University. Devout? Acting reticent and dumping jargon everywhere is just the usual from mentally incapacitated boys. Yes, I said you’re nuts. Sue me!

    No evidence, per se, but anecdotes. Hope I protect the innocent. Introduced in a park around 2010. Head of a Major Publishing concern. Said, ”you’re introducing me to him, here? How’re you doing,” and he ran. Okay walked very fast, but message clear. Assistant, another time? Said she understood the novel. “But understand my boss won’t help you.” Not can’t, won’t.

    My pushing the envelope is a scalpel to PR framing, for generations, that Big-Oil Etcetera is as guilty as PR framed they’re not when are GUILTY AS CHARGED. Court? Not me. I’m in this judged burnt as HELL if wrong. Unalterable evidence is the Environment’s Destructive Path. No one here’s getting to live on Mars, o what really going on Lazy Wealth? Exactly Lazy Wealth. Warned the rich would not understand themselves, 21 Centuries and going on?

    Maintaining a simple unquestioning Public Mental Fabric. Allowing their self-gratification of their own self indulgences. American Mediocrity Maintenance in a Suit. Strategically, health destructive cigarette companies divested? Still mint in Asia. “So it goes.”

The Sade Baderinwa Soapbox View Women Rule Imagery is good. Fun for me. Even taken away from me? Sade Baderinwa and I in each others’ eyes never ends. Never thought I needed a Muse. Learned different, definitely. Patience. Censored? Big-Oil’s Military Boys historically beat themselves. May ruin the world forever, and me, but didn’t get away with it. Oliver Stone is tickled pink laughing his head off at you morons. Who killed Kennedy? Stone had it right. All of em wanted it done. Doesn’t matter which bullet won eternal damnation for all those in on it. 

    Billboard Ritter’s Prussian Beauty Mark on the tombstone. Among other laudatory salutations atop my funeral pyre! History and time tells. 

    Ms. Baderinwa could only be basically calm. Last essay properly framed Sham Boy. Last summer when her eyes went dark and she made a right turn? That wasn’t running from me. Something’s up. Ritter leveraged in. Someone meet-ably friendly before her. For a proper introduction as that was definitely my goal. Big Window. Our only created close moment in January. When WOMEN blocked Security so Sade’s ”How’re you doing” introduced us. In freaking January. And she'd let me fall in love with her last June. Freaking A! You have to say something in my heart produced, “See you.” And another woman said, “That’s what she wants to hear.” 

    So Puppet Bill Ritter? Strings show. Don’t let Candace Bergen see. Too late. She’s advertised she wants some good puppet revenge. Get it Bill Ritter? Candace Bergen Murphy Brown knows all about you specifically now. You. Doubt she’d not want to see how your joke’s worked out. Candace Murphy’ll grab you by that J. Pierpont Morgan honker and start by wiping you across that sidewalk you own as your moat, Ventriloquist’s Puppet Bill. The lift from that J. Pierpont Morgan contraption of yours with her Peace Sign. Then fling you against that glass wall with a freaking, “Finally what you deserve” smack! Then Candace Bergen Malle Rose will pick you back up by a ventriloquist string. Then treat your jugular like a bacon strip, the passing dogs'll sniff and shake their heads at. Angrier now than before. Murphy Brown will crack that damned glass with your egotistical riddled brain pulled from out of your malignant misogynistic skull. Get it, not your fault Sycophant Bill? Ventriloquist Dummy Bill? Right. She’s not stopping till you’re smithereens, Puppet Bill. And Producer/Writer Diane English and I will hold her Queen’s coattails the whole time till she’s done with you. Crack Head Bill. Get it Bill? Bet?

    Had decent starts with weather and sports guys who’d watched. From right beside her when Sade’s eyes locked mine up. So Ritter’s move is Ritter’s. Then, now. Heck. He framed my martyred legacy. Before he was too important, and why now he’s just innocent bogus news reader Bill.  

    I never wanted fame. Now just information the world could use to grow up. As intended. Since committing myself a long time before any child could fathom the dimensions I faced. From a very young age the Racist Sheriff’s nemesis was becoming Dustin Hoffman’s Little Big Man in another White Man’s Filmed Skin. Again describing evolved predatory-ism’s a problem, still, again. 

    Facebook? Granite Facebook? Clearly demonstrable I’d not completed steps right to keep me framed properly in innocent “above it all” Facebook World. Good. All fingers point at me. How history’s written anyway. Beanstalk Dwellers. Mark “Top of the Beanstalk” Zuckerberg. Indifference atop a clouded layered Meta Throne. After 16 years of every hurdle leaped? Always faced as if not known for the very first time by Mark Zuckerberg’s algorithms! Means duplicity rules censored by nonsense. 

    My Big Foot’s inspirationally formed by the very first FACEBOOK Editor-in-Chief. 1897, Cornell University. My uncle “Advertising Legend” JK Fraser who with my Aunt Aurora are on their Founders Wall. Stamped his name Editor-in-Chief personally, on every first page, sticking my neck out farthest for any guillotine available. As my heartstrings include Advertising Responsibility’s broadest tug. From way back before the Big-Oil Industry started filming their destroying everything the 20th Century was capable of becoming. By remaining armed for wars demonstrating it’s all available for Glamorous Celebrityhood’s enjoyments. OJ? The Kardashians are a huger sign of moral decay. Flaunting how they understand, while just jargon faces. Great America’s more disgusting than ever Billboard. Sue me, Witch. Dressed Up as Women Kardashian TV KINGS. 

    Just as faithfulness to history’s laid my neck precisely guillotined. In all due returned disrespect. As provided by you Mark the Titanic King Zuckerberg. The Armie Hammer Winklevoss Social Network Twins’ bird fingers are right up both your nostrils. And my aunt’s and uncle’s. Lifted Arrogant Nose sue me! Modified Everyman Pretentious Jerk sue me! I apologize, I do empathize. 

    Sweet thing about Terry in my novel, represented by Sade Baderinwa in my heart? After Hank and her last time online from New York to Moscow, with her American Hero Hank Greenway? All that’s known is imaginable separate from the book. Woman had reason to be extremely angry. She could have written the whole book. Separated forever. Truth? Sade’s beyond Terry to me. Big Trouble feeling I’d deserve her. They’re protecting her? Police are watching. I’m calm enough. But I might not shut up until Ritter’s dissolved. Disappear Celebrity Oil Boy King of New York News. I’m laughing near as much as Chuck Scarborough now. Funny right? Like I wouldn’t know. Sue Simmons still kicks your butt too, Ritter. And that’s the way it is, Propped Up Fraud of Superiority To Women, Boy Figurehead Bill.

    I’m not nice? Uh huh. Bill Ritter is not innocent. He could have framed The Navy to begin with, just to land here. Dr. Armand Hammer capable of wrapping him in silk in LA. Why so much was made in the novel about how Hank Greenway escaped the fake doctor’s clutches. Dr. Hammer got the degree. But he didn’t even serve an Internship. Dosvedonya. 

    Who knows in a World where Trust’s Sold Out hiding from the truth. Bill Ritter knows he’s just deceptive. Thinking ten years ago, before Dumpster finally hit his mark. About his decades in the making Presidential Bid. I saw how notorious had made and kept him famous. How notorious and fortunes are the basic ingredients of Manufactured Celebrity. Donald Dump had enough of both. Certainly notorious. Bill Ritter’s arrogance works by crossing me over that line. New York Celebrity Guillotine. As Reagan’s False Face Smiled at Every Deceit. You’ll work, Check Mate Bill. Checker Boy King of History’s Welcome Mat For Women. Ruling or not. Boys can’t lie they don’t know their mysoguny’s ruined the world. But made their utopias for themselves all alone in their heads sheltered from needing forgiven for something that’s still atrociously wrong. Women should rule, boys have been that wrong. 

    History is all I get as what I was after. Kept from Sade Baderinwa is my history? Either way her Queen and my pawn aren’t playing checkers with Self-Crowned Bill. And McDonald Dumpster Franchise down my drain too. Historically guillotined. Sliced minced meat, me. Republicans pretend most people don’t know, how much guilt is really all your faults. We’ll smoothly transition. Donald Dumpster’s got to go. Open Camp Mar-a-Lago Penitentiary for business. NOW! Rupert Murdoch’s needs to sleep his drunkenness off. The Andy Griffith’s Show’s Otis has his keys. 

    Why not? Just don’t go thinking there’s anywhere to go once you leap the fence. Everyone knows Donald Dump completes History’s Moronic List. While legally sanctioned criminal. Quite the feat. Oh yeah. People don’t like Godfather III? Francis Ford Coppola sacrificed his own daughter on those steps, at the end, to mean one thing. Face how corruption’s corroded, trapping everything, criminal and supposedly not. People have no business acting out transparent judgment against each other as denied lies. Stop hiding from ourselves. 

    I marveled at risks ABC took supporting Idle Idol Bill. This reviewer’s conclusion now? Like all television, just hiding from Bill as it’s Bill’s  show. He owns them. As far as my being pushed to scream exactly one night at 11:40 PM? Heard about how loud the Founding Fathers actually denigrated one another in pursuit of power? I just want Billy off my back. I’m not a surfboard. Sade’s hopefully, but not his.

    Mr. Bill Ritter’s the one running from something. I won’t run. As I advised John Jr. (Kennedy) not to run for president, when he asked. Don’t tell anyone. It’ll still be asked no matter what you say. But it’s not your burden. Yeah. I believe my friend was killed the way manipulation’s always worked. I can see John’s fed up eyes realizing they’ll succeed anyway. “Just get on the plane,” he’s quoted. Looking at them, reminding his wife she was told to never let this happen. Flying that late at night. And his sister Caroline? John asked permission to tell her I’d had a crush. “But she’s married,” I said. We had fun. Ambassador Kennedy-Schlossberg to Australia that preserved my novel a decade ago? Why? People are still paying, right now. 

    And if we continue to pay for being Lied to by Legal Enforcement of Thievery? Get it, those under the rocks? Without Kissinger’s buffered pedigreed indifference? Who gives a crap. Destroying the Earth anyway, with no intention of giving up! Pray Henry Kissinger can unlock Nixon’s butt? That’s backwards, right? You didn’t do it personally? Like racism, legacy persists. Who cares? Still wrong. Hell with me, sue you? Already convicted yourselves. Exposed as covering for American Mediocrity. Professional American Mediocrity in the most expensive wardrobes ever conceived. Historically? Witch Aunt Nancy Reagan’s serving Hors d’oeuvres to the entire John Birch Society Legacy Freak Fleet! Captain Bill Ritter presiding while Warlock Ronnie licks where Captain Bill itches. 

    Granite Monument Bill declared to not believe in God when not relevant at all to conversation. Except as targeted challenge, accepted. Miscalculated saying I brought God up. Don’t have to, God’s always here. Calculated scapegoater. Reagan was a used dope. You? I don’t care. I’ve seen her be nice to your not deserving it. When last year she didn’t have to act out consoling Manufactured Bill’s Soap Opera. Get it? We’re mature adults and you’re just Stupid Bill. History. Wrote yourself intruding in my life. Where still not wanted, as seen from beginning. Disappointment overwhelmed me, watching Bill Ritter created crap. Regaling as if moat’s your throne too. Sidewalks are City Property, callous boy. 

I just observe media, politics and culture. Not entirely surprised my Cultural Review of New York City’s best window news viewed format. was hijacked to have include outright insults. But that’s how boys pivot themselves on their sides of their glass walls and glass ceilings of indifference. Denying they’re protecting thrones for their own vanities vanity’s sakes. Idolized themselves. Did you hear the one about how my review of the conclusion of the Murphy Brown series ended, “You’ll still get em Slugger.” And she did. Murphy Brown II was right smack in the middle of The Donald Dumpster Era. 

    Candace Bergen? Poor Bill, too late to tuck in your strings Bill. But you know? You can retire very rich on what Ms. Bergen could create Live thrashing you on TV. A mint. I’ll advertise you.  

    Gazillions of dollars politically face off over slicing up millions. Professionally played to maintain channeled American thought. Representing muddling politics. Reminiscent of money piles not circulating. As the pile of Henry Clay Frick and Andrew Carnegie was fought over the rest of their lives. Money that lawyers, judges and accountants divided their salaries on. Trickle down, barely. Doubt it’s just myth Andrew Carnegie said, or just believed, paying more meant men would drink more wasted beer. Exhibit: Status of wives kept in check. Not getting check, a fulcrum, as well, for a very disturbed expanding economy losing touch with better circulation standards. Wives get something and men receive company Friday night beer party? That little would have gone farther than those two Carnegie and Frick imaginations went in their judged lifetimes for the Working Poor. 

    Carnegie apologized with money for circulating before dying. Frick dignity in a beautiful art museum for the successfully dressed is how it felt inside. The J. Pierpont Morgan Library? Where public not allowed in JP’s private office? My very successful Sorbonne/Oxford educated Parisienne girlfriend got the tour chaperone to let us in. They both looked at me, surprised as I realized, “Where have ya’ll put me?” As my head flew around over the whole room to land on the chair. “That’s it? Oh my God, his chair. He couldn’t get up, could he? Sat all-the-time, unable to move that over-fed bulk” of the era swirling the nation’s money from his torso’s mounted head. 

    That’s the deal with Warren Buffett after he poofs. Plans his pile of money for other professionals to sit atop. Usefully stranded. Exaggerating flowing money held across the top. No matter how much gets donated to cut another corner. New sets of figureheads. Boys and some allowable women. Smiley Face Buffett Above America? While Train Industry he finally bought into? Spills chemicals on 19th Century track that’s such Good Insurance Business. Hiding from truth isn't truth. 

    Mr. Buffett? Ask about complete truth from your Naked Pool Party Boyfriend Bill Gates? Pretender atop money’s enough for both of you trough? Brat is supplied code by IBM and runs, retired, leaving gibberish all-over-the-place and Internet and who knows where, really? Grinning and meddling and ogling and touching women employees. Great club, boyfriends keep the money. Elitist boyfriends Buffett and Gates pass into spirit. Finally face avoided consciences. Uh huh. Business among friends stabilizing their bank rolls at the tip. Build at least one Monorail, Mr. Warren Buffett. I know. Tell me where to go. I won’t pass GO. Wrong, HELL to me already. Like I give a crap. Build a monorail, Mr. Warren Financial Checker Buffett. Do more useful things before passing off your money to more Super Wealthy Rich Others. 

    Why did Roy Cohn and Donald Dump keep calling FORBES Magazine about his placement on the Richest List? Top didn’t trust The Checker head Donald Dump Pawn either. The NFL scored a point not letting the criminal in their league either. As dittoed by the entire Indigenous American Gambling Industry. That’s money but, in all due respect? Doesn’t make up for the Superiority Complex everyone still endures. But let Donald Dump get away with being the hugest dope ever elected till next time? Uh huh.

Basic, for underclass, Social Security used to afford a room and fed. Today there’s not enough for the roof. So Starbucks Satisfaction is fantasy on the street, that’s not so bad. Utopia everyone has, or can. Inside the promise of their imaginations on computer-phone screens. 

    Before Soapbox View disappeared the first time? There was a rash of coincidental gasoline advertising on the page. My life's coincidences include many hobbyists chests in my face. Why I appreciate The Talking Heads’ Superstar David Byrne. Handling me with a long “ye-e-e-s” when I stepped up to him, on his walk. Giving him my hammer and cycle card. He turned and nodded, when he reached the end of the block. I’d been stunned. Back in our Elite Couriers Days, I’d left a page honoring Reverend Ralph Abernathy with reception. Including my essay about MURPHY BROWN that proudly concludes, “You’ll still get em Slugger.” 

    My last for TOTAL TV as Lawyer World had no MONOPOLIST problem with Rupert Murdoch selling TV Guide to an Asian friend who then  bought TOTAL TV eliminating a voice obviously different from King Murdoch.  

    Soapbox View included reviews of every one of Diane English’s New MURPHY BROWN Episodes during The McDonald Dump Years. Anyone of a mass of shenanigan artists are lined up medaling themselves shredding me. Maybe especially that rude dude from the cool You Tube film. Screaming Roger Stone. Face contorting, threatening his inquisitors, about his own Donald Dump Role in his own Roger Stone staged January 6. He coincidentally leaving town, the night before, after ensuring it’s in motion. Fingerprints? His butt cheeks are all over January 6. Now that’s a contest. Roger Stoned and Dumpster fighting over the number 6. Hot damn. 

    Back to David Byrne’s testy receptionist and my Murphy Brown Essay. She said, “What’s this?” I said, “art” and Mr. Byrne coming down the indoor steps said “what’s art” and watched me run out the door. Laugh riot I am. Always run. Except from #1 Sade Baderinwa. Concerning her I’m just crushed on the track. My heart, Sade? Sit on it.

    Twice, as a youth, visited the Walt Disney World Lake Buena Vista Preview Center. If Walt lived? Entirely feasible we’d have met. Executives in Florida State, Commercial and Disney spheres still don’t face that Disney World should have connected to Orlando by monorail three generations ago. Fifty plus years. Highlighting how America’s Transportation Pattern hasn’t progressed. The whole State of Florida had a fabric of trains that could have embraced Vacation Utopia. But Train Robber Barons built them for their Economic Class’ luxury. Then America was shadowed from realizing the gas industry’s roads, that are ours, were, and are, thoroughly subsidized. Heads buried profitably destroying Earth Infrastructure. But wait. Isn’t how much money they make tricking everything worth it? No. Not. 

    Miami up the west coast to Tampa doesn’t exist. Stopped unrealized. Where now Retirement Utopia is ensconced with retires and relatives driving back and forth to the two airports, visiting. Even an overpriced train for those retires would have been Real Utopia. Not just gas in tanks polluting more world than making an effort using trains saves. 

Train track and monorail have to precisely compete is choice? Stymying PR Money not competing more than three solid generations.

    Congestion Pricing cannot rectify what in the larger picture is capitalism losing fights with itself. Gas Industry is your own problem. As in other yolked to power manifestations riding Authority’s Collection Plates. Communist China’s most worrisome burden is descending from Stalin’s Personalized Manifest Destiny. The drunkard needed the country easiest controlled. Stalin under Czars was a conduit working for the Secret Police. Of course no one wants to be in trouble documenting that. But by shoveling stolen train money to Europe for Lenin and the, momentarily not locked up, emigres. Stalin often enough jailed in Siberia to know. He’s a spy kept alive by the Czar’s Police. Thieves that successful are executed otherwise. Kill was the easiest communist cop out, whereby history’s controlled. Ukrainians trouble? Move em out. Putin Cronyism really is a Hallmark of Russian Predatory History. Stalin II. 

    Following the advice of Joan Didion’s, Play(ing) It As It Lays. I’m a terror. Bill Ritter’s bully. Because Mr. Ritter can’t contradict his possible Dr. Armand Hammer connection. “LA Business writer” after expelled for protesting Vietnam in San Diego Naval Base, California. When universities didn’t have to bother with that punishment by then anymore. And Hammer would not have not talked with an “LA business writer.” In his very own Umbilical Phone Chord Capital LA. No attempt to contradict speculation? But said over eight months ago that  I’d said something bad about him. He was told to turn the satirical lighting around. Wasn’t his agenda. Knows. Doesn’t know. Same difference bobbling on waves of lies.

    Malcolm Forbes: “What if he (Dr. Armand Hammer) already knows about you?” All covering up the world from an awareness we’re being destroyed by Exploiting Big-Oil Militarist Populism and other commodities. 

    Hence censored and All About Celebrated Personality Flapping Bill. Publicly insisting his face replace issues. Babbling Brook Boy Bill Ritter. Just polite little people complaining with little polite blocks of me. Buy bigger server. While beating me already in place since childhood. As already previously noted by this very essay. 

    Allen Ginsberg observed the foolery. Having Jack Kerouac’s On The Road read all over the country. By smart people through most of the 1950s. Before ever published. So people would buy, justifying printing. This is a Thomas Paine II moment where results are wanted from just reading too. America became America, having read Thomas Paine’s COMMON SENSE. 

    Already documented everywhere. Known hiding from yourselves for already being responsible for destroying the world. Predilection for Military Empire, Big-Oil. People know or all soon will. History. How contemporary? Who’ll see? 

    Scapegoat Bill Ritter? Just checker couldn’t figure out he’ll never be Queened. He’s hit himself with the crown so much, he’s hallucinated himself a Queen’s Power. While checkers, especially exactly like him, aren’t even in Sade’s and my Chess Game. Brilliant Sade. Hallucinating checker schemes, while Nixon’s dog’s named Checkers. Funny, self-celebrated pawns. Sade and I have been playing chess, Honky Cracker Sitting Duck.

    Back to my face, perfectly expressed. Got you. My confidence is history. Not self-serving. Not the best News Reader image, Condescending Bill. Actually yelled at the TV, “Mitch McConnell is the worst.” Now it’s a tie! But. Still many very deceived spots in America, room for both of you. You know New York? Everyone knew Donald Dump’s a criminal. Soon enough Bill, if not already. Maybe you and Dr. Hammer do more lunch? Aunt Nancy loves serving Roasted Ronnie to guests. 

    My six months in LA included being the lone visitor to The Dr. Armand Hammer UCLA Campus Art Museum. I can’t picture Mr. Ritter alone there. Where he went to write business. In the city Hammer gorged  on feeling control over from his telephone. In Manhattan, before the Hammer Galleries closed on 57th between Fifth and Sixth Avenues? For years, when pick ups and deliveries dropped me near? I’d stand for minutes at the window. Looking at the mostly garish art. Same woman, always at desk. Finally last time? I quickly made for the door and, honest, the woman leaped and ran to lock it. I never shook with more laughter in my life before. Always wondered what if? Wow. Still, I need a V8? I needed a case. I didn’t add up I’m known and watched everywhere? Goofballs don’t require attention, just alertness. Boo.

    My fault erased? My over a decade of The Soapbox View? I am supposed to realize and copy everything. Uh huh, I knew. Know. Pieces will have been saved somehow, somewhere. 

    Hope: My Epilogue. Epitaph: Huge Troll Big-Oil and Military Complexities beat me. Disappeared? Not when transparently clear in Ken Saro-Wiwa’s Martyred Memory. Historically? I’m slapping back-and-forth, with both left and right hands, across all the tops of all your crappy oily heads. Smack, smack, smack. One after the other. Back-and-forth and back again and again repeatedly. Till your consciences have figured out how you’re done. Uncooked or not. Repeatedly back and forth. Endlessly smacking across all your crap riddled scapegoating conscienceless minds. Filled with scapegoating crappy no integrity. And lying. 

    Shell Oil couldn’t stop Nigeria from murdering the journalist? For exposing oil money’s not circulating better in Nigeria? The United States, where Death Penalties are still in effect? Joined list of conscientious objectors. Observing the murder of journalist Ken Saro-Wiwa. Uh huh. Elitist Pyramids stop being such a crutch providing nothing for anyone but yourselves. Steal a million in Africa? Spend it, spreading throughout Africa. Make capitalism more than a spectator sport, watching the shredding of money for nothing left over after pretending it’s a fight to preposterously store such huge amounts. At every level. Dag gum. 

    Competing with each other for the spoils of war means colonialism won and we’ve become mere owned indentured servants after all. No matter how much money can discredit my words.  

    Beating around Bushes? Jail, Prison, whatever. Should be hotels. We have a system to stop desperate criminality. The fear of locked up in crappy places, adds to criminals’ crimes’ desperations. Don’t see it? Not looking. Police protection is supposed to be for everyone. Police included. Police shouldn’t be permanent features of cycles of revenge. Citizen, criminal, police. Stop the desperate criminality that’s written into the Constitution we could end. If we’d stop profiting on exploiting others in so many very little ways. Families overcharged calling family in prison for years? Deserve years of free phone at least to each other, in or out. Dag gum.

    So my destruction is Elitist Light On Their Own Darkness. Poor Checker Bill is uncomfortable, but still amused. I knew he’d especially taunt the Bible. Witnessed by three at their News Desk. Clear from Mr. Ritter’s interrupting, acting as an important News Desk friend. For my, understood, proper introduction I wanted. I realized Sade and I were not invited to the same parties. Except the one in our eyes, I’d not been to any in decades. Her eyes showed me the wall’s not just glass. I’ll know what to do when I see it. 

    Took her and women seven months to have our introduction happen, under Ritter’s Superior Master Racing effortless nose. Where others do the work for him. Eyes-to-eyes that close to Sade, I was fascinated you don’t have a big head. Huge relief.

    Always been. People don’t care I watch them lie. Ride wave they’re on. Decade ago to slow my progress. The National Enquirer Editor Mike Hammer confronted me with lies. In my editor’s kitchen, expecting to embarrass me past public acceptance. What did The National Enquirer expect? Don’t think they even know. Anyway, good friendly upstanding American Citizen Mike. I explained to him they’re lies about me. Done. Back in kitchen, where did Mike go? Went to live out how he was paid to lie about me anyway. No one told me. We’d been friends for years, me and that arrogant serious face. 

    Night before, I’m by the bonfire expecting to sit alone and think. Mike Hammer shows up doing impatient Mike. Come along Abbie Normal Chuck, to act more normal with the rest of us. Just go Mike, I want to be alone. But Mike was patient with me. No Mike. You throw water on the fire again, even after you think you’re sure it’s out. Three times might prevent more forest fires! 

    This was New Year’s Eve near Ossining, New York State Prison. Where I’d just spent under an hour conversing by the fire. With the Chief Lawyer Head of New York City’s Police Department’s Law Department.  Man in charge of Paul McCartney’s Security, who arranged his getting to meet me as if a causal accident at a photo shoot I delivered to. Paul McCartney and I grinned at each other for minutes. Within days, or at least mere weeks, of my writing about THE BEATLES in The Hammer and Cycle Messenger Service. Mike Hammer got to demonstrate. Move along Nobody wasting your own and everyone’s time. HELLO!

    Mike's son, an intellectual in the journalist trade. Imagine that. Both of us, irritated diamonds in the rough. He works for the publication where Mike is documented as Party Celebrating on Alcohol the Sabotaging of Liberal Careers by The National Enquirer. On Wall Street. No one appreciated my being neither. Though Registered Republican. From my beginning I’m committed to being neither. But long ago, saw I’ll be The Last Republican if kept up. How ya doin, Lee Atwater, FOX & Friends, etc.?   

    Shouldn’t have to apologize my satire was inspired as roughly offensive by Mr. Bill Ritter. As in tennis, returns, often can only reflect what’s received. As John McEnroe once commented on at Wimbledon or French Open. When Frenchman Yannick Noah won The French Open, I watched that whole match on TV. From a Vero Beach, Florida hotel room where LA’s Dodgers’ Brooklyners once held Spring Training camps. Jackie Robinson slept there. Not my room. But a girl, from the beach, lived near the stadium and rode me by their, back then, stadium. Ya know life’s good too, when opposite sexes are interesting and not just hitting on each other. Oh yeah, she’d never seen anyone funnier.

    Bill’s Security Jeff’s face always displays an equal arrogance face. While Bill smiles his. The viscously disgusting hidden eyes of G. D. Spradling’s General Corman. Near Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now’s start. While I’ve experienced Martin Sheen’s wild distortions at the very beginning. Sans alcohol and Sade. New Security, last Wednesday, hit man looking. But they don’t allow themselves filmed in front of TV studios, so probably not. But looks? Hands down, hit man. He could do films.

Anyway, however seriously distressful and distasteful the situation? A SOAP OPERA worthy of THE NEW YORK TIMES, really is most fantastic. Not quite past my imagination. So indeed, history’s written. History’s written where the Big Oil Military Complex’s fingerprints are transparent on my guillotine as history. I was told people heard about JFK, Jr. and I behind St. Patrick’s Cathedral. His convenient enough passing. To the sisters, his “just get on the plane” hit me hard. He was doing GEORGE Magazine. My first TOTAL TV, delivered to his office before published. And a draft for GEORGE. America can at least know. And Good People in Oil. Over-Resource-Exploitation is poison. Both from pollution and wicked acts over generations. 

    Watched real humdingers this past year since committing myself to Thomas Paine Idealism. Forming jargon catchphrase, Thomas Paine II. Great again? Great Americans were always great. When integrity’s less exploited against each other. Great men today haven’t faced carved by History’s Lost Little Boys yet. Look at ourselves? Facing takes time. Generations? Generations gone, lying to ourselves.  

    Thomas Paine opposed Whacky King George and politicians whose own problems were just more intensely immense than a country coming together. As competing Britains held themselves together apart slicing up themselves as a dwindling fortune. Americans only problem was how to clear the British out of here? Never left. Next equation formed around clearing Country for Rulers’ Ruling the Ruled.

    The last SOAPBOX VIEW summed up clearly enough. Executive was told no, I will not explain. Why can’t ABC after all these months provide someone not repeating the explain exercise again. John Le Carré 101, all just harmless hotel reception desk personnel. Fascinating how intentionally faced by players insisting any clue is only me. Now tell us how to further confuse ourselves believing we’re confusing you. Goliath Bill Ritter already twice has had me yelling in the street at his pretending to face me that would be  just - GET OUT OF THE WAY. That’s honorable. Standing like a jackass pretending you get to repeat lies again if explaining - says it all Goliath Great Bill 

    I am not confused. However I’m portrayed theoretically not having a clue. Except that Executive wanted one. Jeff shook his head waste of time responsibly suggesting a lawyer. Knowing I’m ahead of where they think. I said “Soapbox View.” Two weeks censored then.

    Decade back, at my editor’s home. When The National Enquirer’s Mike Hammer, before I published, wanted me embarrassed by the depiction of me as a worthless kid molester. Created by birther of me Elizabeth? TRUE: The National Enquirer does use what they don’t intend to publish. Or would eventually if they found a cue. Known Mike 34 years, so doesn’t matter relatively when he was plugged in as an attack dog on me. I end up with leash. Will Rogers would love I’m doing lasso tricks. Made him the Broadway Star at The-Top-of-the-Heap he’ll always be. Culturally America lost A Real Leader when he and Wiley Post lost themselves up where it should stay The Great White North. 

    The National Enquirer is just thoroughly corrupt. Funny thing at the dinner. I’m offering to write for them and Conservatives can attack me. Mike’s Handler was prepared by Cornell Alumnus Kurt Vonnegut to show me that picture Kurt framed for me to uncover the merry-go-round hoax had covered me up. Bang, boom. Author launched my preparedness to meet Ina and Robert A. Caro, the great biographers. 

    Mike and I left that dinner, on my part, loyal friend. Funny how I can forgive CIA Mike. But not facially Give Him a Break Bill? Could grind that face in your moat sidewalk forever and be satisfied. How’s that? But Sade will get tired of resting on my shoulder and her turn to rest mine on hers. Perhaps only time I won’t mind her wearing heels. Everyone should wear shoes better for the feet. It’s important. Funny and serious. What satire’s all about. 

    Thirty-four years after LAW Enforcement, expressed through silence, Liz lied. How am I sure? No one ever told me anything. Never asked. Questioned. Nothing. Always behind my back clues. Mike Hammer? Slapped my hands on the kitchen table and said “finally someone to say, don’t you realize those are all lies to.” THE LAW proved they’re lies. 

    Three months ago ABC called the police who’ll pick up my pieces. Watching anyway, why bother. Ever see a second group of police arrive at a contrived disturbance, who settle things, directed at you, in minutes so you’re not bothered? I didn’t even call police to help that time in Astoria. Right. Since meeting The Noted Biographers, The Caros, whether or not all police have my back? A lifetime of proof enough do. Why are cops so nice to me? Baffled me for years. Handcuffs loosened. Not just that I’m a White Guy is a huge relief. Not kidding. Not all PEACE OFFICERS, but some day is nearer if we want it. 

    So Elizabeth, who gave birth to me, had a file I cared less about. Get as much money as you can for it. Don’t need to read it, to put together the fabrications hid from me. Lies can tell more truth than truth is used to hide. Still history. History is attention. Fact is my mother Janet had me promise to make sure her grandchildren are alright. Love Everyone. But Liz’s kids, sorry. More her story than mine bye. My mother also said the time would come. 

    My puzzle Liz? Eyeballs to eyeballs, Liz wanted me aware if I called her Liz again? She’d shoot me. I had made sure my mother Janet didn’t mind. Though never called her Janet. Liz reiterated, “understand,” … “believe me.”  

    Since whenever I can remember not understanding how Liz could portray herself as my mother. To others sure, obvious. To me? Pure lie that relationship ever existed. Both knew we deeply hated each other.  Hard not to, experiencing what I experienced. She’d only been my enemy, my entire memory. Nutshell Cover: I’m the brat should have babysat her bouncing against the walls, two-thirds illiterate, kids. Although my problem was over-sympathizing and letting her play mother she’d exploit. Fifteen to about twenty-one Liz had me as whatever because of my mother’s last year. Helen would take me in North Miami Beach, but Janet was my father’s second wife and not her mother. Blood. Wouldn’t take us both. I wouldn’t leave my mother, so stuck with Liz. I swam a lot. 

    My mother had died while I’m 16, shortly after our goodbye hug. We were watched, so even together kept apart. She even ran to the door wondering how I was at the Nursing Home alone. I did a deception. Yep. Liz never mother. Can’t deny birthing. But I am extremely proud of my many features of our parents, who as maternal worked out looking more like me than Liz. I only knew Liz when I was a complete thinking person. Soon enough understanding her as predatory. Her wanting to control me wasn’t much of a puzzle at all. “Honey” syrupy confession. 

    At Cornell the Head Manuscripts Honcho asked, “What about Elizabeth?” Summed up, didn’t risk answering phone Liz knew the number. Then she handed me the file and I said, “Now I can face my uncle.” Sweet. Found things about my father, and JK’s 10 East 33 where he reigned in advertising more than 30 years. During when the nearby Empire State Building went up, and beneath which The Spike Lee grinned at me the morning I walked to my first TOTAL TV consultation with my editor. I’d walked out of DO THE RIGHT THING in Paris and yelled to the sky - “Spike got it right.” 10 East 33 I read, of course in invisible ink, in a business magazine is where my uncle was “Advertising Legend” JK Fraser.

    Turns out Liz probably blamed me for all the money I didn’t care went to Cornell. Put doctors through Medical School and Aunt Aurora and Uncle Kenneth’s names on Founders Wall. Instead of apparently a lot of money in either of our pockets. My heart still laughs knowing better spent by Cornell in the right spots. Dandy. Why Our Fraser name’s in granite, next to The Laurence Rockefeller. 

    Around age 5, JK interviewed me with my father watching. I complained feuding over money is what I saw. Pointed at the TV. I’d become the thinking person, no longer the baby he’d probably seen often enough when we visited Bradenton, Florida. Where my aunt and uncle retired. I ended up angry I explained so much he got out of me, and he had to go. No one told me who he was. But definitely, my father’s brother. No, fly on the wall didn’t matter. They talked alone. I remember wanting his help. He got so much out of me. Whatever it was, they didn’t let me hear. Remembering what those two men watched me say is humbling. Knowing even then, getting my butt kicked could get some kicked too. Dag gum right.

    Price on my head as I must be stopped for being inspired to follow history from a very young age. Raised by parents born in the 19th Century. 1877 and 1897. Adopted and yes I know how to share. Liz was 100% trip. She hated hippies.  

    My mother Janet always only answered questions. Both parents never lectured. Both literally onboard, from the start, that I primarily teach, learn, myself. Alert noticing and questioning. Liz liked the Sanford Naval Base slumming with sailors world. Closed before I was forced to live at her Sanford house in 1972. Age fifteen. My mother, loudly. “Malcolm” and left the room. Home from my forced Liz visit. I complained a Navy dude, who said “sorry,” was pressed to shower me. That I could have accomplished myself no matter how young at the time. Liz even made me be naked in a tub once with her and her three. Just dedicated to reducing me. “We do it all the time.” Gag me with responsibility.

    Liz knew I told my mother everything. In the days when she’d explain this way, my mother Janet said, “Your mother had a car. She knew the astronauts. Why do you think your father won’t watch launches with you?” How’s that added to - wives are known kept away from Cape Canaveral? Tom Wolfe’s The Right Stuff is clear the bars on the strip of Canaveral’s Coast were an Open Season Meat Market. Decay in overly much relied on Nazi Rocket Science influenced NASA. I also saw my father look only once, with hate, at that Racist Shack where Orange Growers coddled the Racist Sheriff. My father hated that shack for a reason. Let me see him look at it just that once. Liz? Racist Witch. We all loved her too much, so admitted publicly here too confused.  

    I wonder less, but am curious what Sade knew about me. Because that’s how I started. Curiosity realizing she could have known something when? Then nothing mattered. I already loved you Sade. Last two decades.

    Eight months later Glass Maze still. Checkers with Bill. Preposterous. Never physically threatened Bill Ritter or anyone ever. Provoked though happened. I recommend not allowing my knowing a woman or women are exploited. Their withheld tempers become mine. 

    Mr. Ritter exposed himself as a John Le Carré style desk clerk at His News Desk. Wonder how close Errant Knight Ritter was to LA’s CIA’s Cocaine Business? Meddling and people wanting bigger slices of the money pie is how reality exists. Pipelining LA down the addicted tubes. Manifesting Gang Control sent back to Central America where - actual capitalism was never conceptually fixed. Just Banana Republic Elitist Addicts traveling the world investing in expensive real estate for storing more money not circulating enough. Documented. 

    Ritter’s LA sojourn happened as lapsed gang ethics became low hanging exploitable LA Banana Republic Fruit. Central and South America’s elite left alone, cushioned apartment hunting the world. While their fields are cultivated pretending this is cheapest for American customers. While no one else makes money, and gangs back from LA control those with less equaling what? Equaling the American Immigration Crisis caused by damming the lower hemisphere at Cuba ETC. Communist exploitation meet ethicless capitalist exploiters. CIA Bush Soldier Crowd. Nope. Not on pages many Americans are trained to read or watch. But documented from way back before JFK was crucified. Meant the fix is in. Hiding Banana Republicanism.

    The Immigration Problem Ran to America? They were roller coasted to New York too. Big magnet drew the immigration fiasco up from where originally dumped, and where the situation should be solved. Nothing’s contrary, it’s gravity. Face mistakes! The fiasco of how money’s stretched from out of circulation and scapegoated as no one’s fault, is everyone’s involved. 

    And ho hum Mayor of New York City Adams. Travels south for insight. You don’t know why? Insight Mayor of New York thinks is his Above It All Billboard. Both he and the Buffalo Governor, both decades Albany bred to neither realize their announcing everything, virtually daily, shows how not involved they are in thinking about anything. 

    I don’t care about making time. Both allowed not going forward on connecting 125th Street to La Guardia Airport by train. Great trains should connect Kennedy International to La Guardia National to 125th Street to Newark, New Jersey International. So those news reports about clogged airports can be less - oh look what happened all over the country. When really it’s look what happens all the time. 

    And guess what? Money People have made uncontested travel between airports happen all over the world easier than right here in a world’s capital. For all the wrong prejudiced ignorant reasons. Clearly Racist that 125th Street wasn’t made a Black Hub of New York City Greatness as a Mega Train Hub a century ago. White Hypocrisy overshadowing all, and New York’s black mayor cuddles with governor shoving aside any solving of the Racist Transportation Nightmare of New York City. Scapegoating Robert Moses, means big deal he was a pawn. Too many pawns not giving a crap and continuing all wrong. 

    Transportation nightmare. Right. As corrupt as Florida, where the wealthy overpaid themselves with oil not to care too. And Mayor and Governor certainly must complain to friends they can’t wait till their careers are paid off better in Private Enterprise. No? Sue me! Both of you! Defeating 125th Street is a racket of many generations in length! You don’t know better? Complained a little bit? Gag me with a Monorail.

    Why care if Sade Baderinwa were part of misleading me the entire year. On behalf of Flap Lips. Sade/Guy Babylon/Baltimore will always mean so much to me. Sade’s no goof. No way. Not catapulting Sade Baderinwa. If I’d been recalling Guy’s specific words earlier? Driven wild anyway. I saw something. Then Baltimore just reminded and memories proved in love with her really happened, in my heart, her entire time in New York. From the very beginning when she was introduced, my world tumbled. Realizing, remembering running from the tug. If she has even anywhere near less than a trillionth of one percent of my curiosity? We are copacetic.    

    Huge error trying to prove Ms. Baltimore Baderinwa can’t have the opportunity to share some moment from our lives. Enjoying remembering Guy and Sade’s Baltimore? Remembering our eyes that close but apart, is together. Woman I Love You. 

    Baltimore last summer, walked back-and-forth that little creek past the nearby William Randolph Hearst fenced-in, enclosed, studio complex. Where Sade’s mother first brought her after adoption like me. I neglected to register at the suburban, fenced-in, Baltimore station reception desk. The cop who removed me from the other picnic table, where I wrote, was crying at the gate as I’d explained how Defund The Police missed the point. Clear the racism and have people not so desperate to defend themselves from rotten jail and calming down starts. 

    Understand why a black person would run from the cops? When they can’t take staring in racist eyes dominating them any more. Not a fun ride facing racists enjoying their hate freedom called a badge. Badge of honor is citizens and police are the same. Regardless. Racists enjoy staring in the eyes as I know. I’ve had it done. And anger invigorates them. Of course they’re pushing people mentally to run. Trained to intimidate and keep citizen in place. Make jails homes and carpeted. Protect the innocent everywhere. Stop pretending it’s not the Wrong Environment keeping and making jail and prison hell. Pet Shelters too. Pets penned is a shame.  

    To trick me Mr. Bill Ritter made sure I heard his, “All about Sade” outside one night. She said, “bye Guys” when I was the only one there. Woman knows. Serious looks we had. Steps. Then she had me notice the carnival atmosphere. Glory Hog Bill’s Confessional. Pretending whatever awareness, on an agenda that didn’t even include effective lying. I’m just Dr. Armand Hammer’s enemy written all over Billboard Boring Bill. What else is there for an LA Business Writer Dr. Armand Hammer Umbilical Chord to do? But beat me senseless! Historically accurate Irritating Bill. Not facing you’re just a jerk, Bill. Standing there all Goliath-y. Yelling’s all I have that’s returnable to you Liar Bill. Roy Cohn not denying Hammer Clone Liar Bill. You’re all just boy, and coerced Women, circle jerks that keep up the slapping each others’ backs part too.

    As a freelancer I didn’t pierce far up the Entertainment Process Chain. Rupert Murdoch’s Rich Asian Pawn/Friend erased TOTAL TV from publishing. Erased history then is STILL my TV Reviewer Credential. FOR THE RECORD. My TOTAL TV, back page, mid 1990s, television critic’s essay on stopping guns was the same year that Law and Order was recognized with Television’s Best Drama Emmy. While I am the only Television Journalist who’ll ever be allowed on the set of Law and Order three separate times. Can still visualize the cast jumping up, hugging when they won The Emmy. When Chris Noth and I’d pass, around Manhattan, we’d not stare. Per se. But both knew. Dick Wolf must have known, or just admired, my uncle and why I’ll always be the only television journalist ever allowed to visit the set of Law and Order three separate times. Good thing New York ABC-7 New’s Billboard for Boy Figureheadism is so clear and accurately displayed for our entire country. Irresponsible Escapism is why Mr. Bill Ritter is so dedicated to clarifying the classifying of my disreputable reputation. King Empire Boy.

    Last year embarking on representing Thomas Paine II facing down modern tyrannies? I saw this as not just a cause, but American duty. Thought writing The Hammer and Cycle Messenger Service, responsibly sizing up The Cold War, was my 50 year grail. But tackling the very nature of FREE SPEECH? Facing things such that even the vaunted The New York Times is framed in my conscience driven interpretation. Formally submitted as our records speak for ourselves. Pentagon Papers. 

    As I’d thought when my bicycle courier documentary was taken away from me. With two weeks improvement left, Three Women talking by the Washington Square Park Fountain were stolen from history. Next to edit in. I thought history will take care of me, regardless. The Producer owned it. Environmental Organization TIMES UP! bought the forty minute Fifth, Park and Madison and it’s the documentary featured in The Battle of The Bike Ban in The Great Hall of Cooper Union. Twenty-five years later completing my life’s goal of skewering my Eustis, Florida neighbor. Groveland Four Murdering Racist Sheriff Willis V. McCall. Producer Dragan Illic’s friend looked at him and said, “You don’t want your friends knowing you didn’t do it.” He laughed. Then to me Carlton Bright said, “It’s good enough.”

    Do not adjust your television, computer or telephone screens. This is REALITY. Thomas Paine II’s drawn everyone in this diagram. In print, an Actual End to Three Days of The Condor. Everyone, people, companies. Tradition’s become hiding from responsibility behind algorithms. Formerly Burned Books. 

    Smothering me included, as always, Get A Real Job! Something. Ubereats ignored 6 years of my texts complaining my GPS shut off after every trip. Our last week, GPS would not shut off. Always on. I stared at three ridiculous relatively useless trips in a full day. Verified, business not that bad. They knew it’s war. My texts for the previous year, summed up, “I hate you people. You ruined it” to be exact.  

    Soapbox View Essays include my first walking into uber. Up some Long Island City side steps. I really saw myself as Peter Finch. Facing Network’s Ned Beatty. Except Finch isn’t backing down this time. Five Muslim cab drivers killed themselves because taxi medallions weren’t conceded as valueless and the city taxi commission scapegoated whatever. Oh well uber sorry shaking things up. History of bicycle couriers was work for any company at any time. How the best rise to the best commissions, etc. Draw us, not you’re drawing us beneath you. 

    I said, “this will work. But they’re going to mess it up, aren’t they?” Two hugest, DoorDash/Ubereats became a two company Co-Monopoly. Together buying up eliminated competition. Email history last June? Uber was fighting New York State to stop State from seeing couriers’ documented complaining about whittled away financial circulation. And mine, all their Ubereats career, till 2023 when I was officially chased off by the company. Blacklisted while pretending to not fire me. We had good years. People wanting better, must have been fired too. App worked. 

    After establishing their company with couriers paid to do nothing. Providing the best service eliminating previously operating companies. Largest holding on, was bought out last year by Amazon. Couriers still slip throughout various outlets of opportunity. Reputation for ruining what the San Francisco Bicycle Couriers made good about Ubereats’ good service? Uber’s fault. I saw the San Francisco, where developed, Courier Culture soundly influenced the app. App was beautiful. Smooth, till yada yada.

    Plus long story short - SCAM. Any Motorized Vehicle is not a Bicycle. Motorcycles have given bicycles bad reputations. Enough months before the ELECTRIC MOTORCYCLES prevalence overtook things? I even told a gathering of at least 100 uber people they’ll take advantage of coming electric. Then dropped my frustrated head feeling I’d said too much. Professional Moderators knew I’d said too much. Not one more word. Bitter Executive Eyes let me see theirs. Not many, but enough to know. I was framed and said more than they wanted. Uber wins. Big hole historically though. Money covers things, while the history is companies didn’t care they’re part of creating a monster as all New York City knows happened. Motorcycles running red lights and whipping around people on the sidewalks. Tossed at the Public as if bullets at speeds the not yet even experienced, arrogant, mass achieved.

    I’ve seen Racing Ducati Motorcyles on the streets without license plates! Police pretending their condemnation is reducible to being called back for increased enforcement. When authoritarianism is an outlet for hiding police indiscretions kept under wraps again. No? B______t. Bubbly Mayor is shown as above all reality as positioned leadership. Cheerleading worn out, decaying, corroded jargon defending Police Infallibility. Take a current class on Police Possibilities at John Jay College, please Mr. Mayor? I’ve heard enough scapegoating from New York City’s Mayor backing years of pretend the police are different and above us. Go to school. Real PEACE OFFICERS will not die in the Line of Duty anymore! 

    Mayor announced professional agitators are too strongly behind Columbia Students Demonstrating The Obvious Against Netanyahu’s Using Israel as a Shield To Protect Netanyahu Politically. The country was on the verge of his removal, then this? Best-Army-in-the-World let this happen? Question yourselves with Real Questions. Not softballs thrown where the Innocent Collaterally Damaged World perpetually remains. Endless Expert descriptions of how staying ahead in this sport of war isn't lying when that’s all that’s exactly happening. Stop Defending War Defends Israel. Netanyahu is just an extremely arrogant fool. The Fool judging his own sycophants more confused. 

    Jargon babble, Mayor Adams. Students may have listened to Professional People in the field of opposition. Also CIA-ish, NYPD plants, etc. Mr. Go South And See and Learn Nada Mayor. Control is why so many were addicted to heroin in the ghettoes. Because good pot that was interesting, went to the rich white kids. No? A Political Culture formed around just the winners winning, and is what’s wrong in Lopsided Attitude America. It used to be Presidential Platforms were for ideas entering The Public Forum. Especially the purpose of third parties. Now just Donald Dumps mimicking Mike Huckabees unlocking their storehouses of Celebrity Humping for greenbacks. Cha-ching. Not kidding Union Busting Husband Buffalo Governor of New York, Kathy Hochul threw the city under more, dag gum overused, buses. But approved another New Train for the Upper East Side that’s not as much an EMERGENCY as 125th Street becoming a real Central Hub. The 125th Street Hub Governor Hochul VETOED! The country needs fixed and having New York’s Transportation Racism solved is a very important puzzle piece. Affirmed by these two politicians killing What Needs Done at 125th Street as per Honky White Cracker Sabotage as per usual. Complain a little bit, Big Deal Mayor of New York City? Totalitarianism Big-Oil Is Not Freedom. Face things, Governor Hochul. Rather than have professionals just design more sidestepping to sign and announce. Your husband does law. Hey Buffaloed Honky Cracker, sue me!  

    Kennedy to La Guardia to 125th Street to Newark International because everyone knows Racism never cared. Kept Harlem under wraps till The Real Estate Elite Empire bought it back. Nice Racism clothed as Fred and Donald Dump were. That Disbarred Lawyer Roy Cohn got them out from under, in the courts, exposed ruining commercial real estate. Keeping the best for White America alone. You know. Blocking Successful Blacks from improving the Housing Market. Dump Family Dinner Table buddy, Designer Czar Robert Moses supervised ruining Capitalism for Blacks in the Public Housing System. Designed replicating the Bricked-up Prison System.  

    No Ground Floor Businesses in ALL PUBLIC HOUSING. That Honky Crackers built for their commercial prosperities all-over-the-city. As White Capitalism’s Kingdom came first. Black Wall Street in Oklahoma burned and destroyed circumventing Black Prosperity? Racism encouraged on a daily basis the destruction of Capitalism’s Possibilities. Racist Cover-Up Legacy of Conservative Republican Shame. 

    GET OUT! I am the only DAMNED REPUBLICAN! 

    Even especially in the fabrication of rectifying racism being constructed as Charity Cases. From the beginning part-time jobs improving simmered down welfare would have been constructive. Not separating families because that’s where the money was. Happened and blamed the victims. From the start the attempt to Rectify Poverty? Blacks were deemed not as worthy as Poor White Trash. Historical Fact. 

    Why the game is still catching up. Generations. A century and fifty-nine years after The American Civil War and STILL COUNTING! When money caught up generations ago, to become boys playing stylishly worthless king. So yes. Pay for ruining the world. Denying’s been in season centuries. I’ll pay and Big Oil Swillers’ War Energized Sycophants!

    Don’t care redundant riddled jargon. Mayor and Governor of New York. Oh poor couriers. Pay for their electricity, subsidizing the industry for pulling the rug so far they can’t even pay for their own darned electricity. Capitalism ruined by pretend capitalists. Playing Playpen Cha-Ching Socialism. 

    Just give the Homeless the Best Food and none of us have to work, Case Closed.

    Waiting For Godot is an ice cream shop sit down compared to Waiting For Sade. Something, identified hostile. I’m shooting bird fingers at Bill Ritter smirking behind His Peace Sign. Meaning calm, Throned and  Entertained Bill. Glowing Face Bill. Doesn’t matter Robert “Bob” Iger at the top appears unaware. He was emailed with the same complaint, months ago, sent to Nina Pineda herself of Nina Peneda’s ABC-7 On Your Side. Whole last essay written for Ms. Peneda and Big Bob Iger. There you go. Pulled my own umbilical guillotine phone chord. Should have replaced my stolen cellular. But when will Stone Mountain Georgia Bill face he’s cracked? Don’t care. Sade finds it necessary? Walk, or swim, right through Cracked Head Bill.   

    Larger story. Publishers ran away. An already constructed Executive Glass Ceiling brick walled. Relatively Anonymously just for me. Stopping my objective framing of Dr. Armand Hammer from reaching the broader public to have and impact and place in Contemporary History itself. Lighting up the entire Big-Oil Military Industry. Trapped coercing Executive America’s Madness too. Known as The Huge Mess. Executives needing themselves as our physicians to heal us. Sure. An opportunity to laugh at judgment as recorded by our consciences.  

    Watching. Blocking me since before I standing up in Americanism vs. Communism class. Insisting on speaking before the instructor. Wasted weaponry is a joke that got around. Prove capitalism while Soviets aren’t even counting money for themselves. Duh! High school dude, didn’t know. Sent me to a party. Rec-room basement. Young woman, girl, comes in, looks around. Sees me. Says, “No party here. Out!” Guy found me and just laughed when I told him. Home belonged to someone in the Subcontractor Class of the Military Industrial Empire. Coincidental but real. No doubt about that house.

    What was I eleven, twelve? Complaining Disney’s Monorail Design is just a circle. I know. Big mouth wasn’t shut. Oops. Partly why I walk around DISNEY/ABC New York. I visited The Walt Disney World Lake Buena Vista Preview Center twice. Believe if Walt Disney had not died young, we could have talked. My enemy isn’t DISNEY, necessarily. Except I want that Monorail reaching Orlando and Kissimmee. Done in by Florida State and the Big-Oil Industry Empires packing their own gaseous wasteful pockets that ended up more money trickling less. 

    All those parents who’d have spent DISNEY WORLD prices for an overnight train system easily in and out. For kids ages three-to-near-seven who sleep more anyway. Disney World’s Best Hotels in and out. Conveyor Belt Ease Vacations. The place is really built for kids’ ages where they sleep enough, where the parents should relax. Not drive anywhere else if Disney World is the point for those kids. Parents sacrifice more up to Age 6 than at any time in children’s lives! Priceless for the parents. Instead, ten year olds whining in the backseat about where they’re going, sitting in an Interstate Highway Parking Lot. When their parents finally saved the money. 

    Systematic Training made us a Parking Lot Management Utopia. ABC as company framed me? Doubt it. But Bill Ritter’s chest heaves humongous Boy Superiority. As News Programming is programmed all across our country. Cuddled to feel fond of gas, still. That oh well grin, we’re all owned by oil. Face it. Accept it. Not going away. 

    Oil Spill Bill. Over four years ago introduced everyone at the NEWS DESK to specifically embarrass their owning cars. Held Sade for punchline. I stood up so what. Left room. Couldn’t remember one vehicle named. And someone had at first responded, confronting Bill himself for doing it. “Why are you doing this?” Cornell Weather Chief Lee Goldberg and I do get a kick from the Cornellian Color of his sporty car. 

    But hold on. Big-Oil Boy Rule is not letting go of their open threat to collapse the economy. And American Custom has them surfing whatever they want. So game over. Have the money, but committed to not helping. That’s why they’ve historically indicted themselves. Everyone co-conspirators is Guilty with Big-Oil’s Leadership’s win. PERIOD. Everyone is GUILTY. 

    In collusion that electric isn’t supplied at every Gas Supply Spot in the country. PERIOD. NOW! Guilty because America testifies on our own to not give a blank. Played competition? But structured winning dedicated to improving all our losses. Just insure tragedy. That’ll bury us good enough. Oil hasn’t been worth it for generations. But we’ve managed luxuriously, to have our planet’s destruction within our Solar System set in place for generations. Because the current one remains all that matters? Not good judgement. Ridiculous scapegoat excuse.   

    I don’t need Deep Throat in a Basement Parking Lot to explain people expelled from college against Vietnam when Ritter was, 1972, are easily explained possible plants. Can’t buy he’s not plastic. Roy Cohn Head atop inflated cloned Dr. Armand Hammer Neck and Chest. 

    Have Fun Everyone. Liberal Icon Izzy Stone’s grinning broader than the Congressional Hoarders ever learned to recognize in themselves as being too fake. However many realized. Isidor Feinstein Stone’s Memorialized Memory read the nonsense in their Libraries of Congress. Where the very Halls of Congress’ fleecing took place. Where Senator Prescott Bush of Connecticut’s Bonfire was, and remains transparently clearly descriptive enough.  

    Dr. Armand Hammer’s connection to “LA business writer” Bill Ritter, does not matter how valid or authentic. The flagrant reckless abandon exhibited in a simple relationship intrusion intelligent people settle in seconds. He’s shrewdly manipulative. That’s it. Dr. Armand Hammer’s checker went back to San Diego and home town empathy created New York TV News Celebrity Clown. Loves holding that Long Hair Bill picture. Probably a plaque, somewhere among other BUSH/CIA hidden mementoes? 

    So Mr. Ritter denies denying a Roy Cohn political connection. Just being Bill The Face. Roy Cohnism exactly. Anyway, fashioned himself a Roy Cohn assassin. Goliath of the Roger Stone Variety. Not facing understanding consciences do get faced. Misted eyes fogged entirely, Bill. Nixon’s up Stone’s butt. Tattooed to Stone’s back for more leverage. You too Bill? Huge Team. Monica Lewinsky a Democrat is a fraud and big historical joke, Hitwoman Linda Tripp! As twisted and jumbled as John Lennon’s killer. Incorrigible twists designed to entwine culture in disgusting leveled off disarray. For Totalitarian Management ease. 

    Even History’s Greatest Sheriff, Andy Griffith? Andy had a Huge Starring Role in the illuminating Budd Schulberg film, A Face in The Crowd. Where over cocktails by the water of a Long Island Mansion, and Presidential candidate arriving at the dock. Is a picture of a generation of prohibition’s finest carnivores slicing the ghettoes pretending the bad drugs they’re fed are all their faults. Care of the mafia whose one time chief cooperated Mafia controlled building of the Dumpster’s 42nd street Hyatt Hotel. Agreeing they hate Blacks while Riot Cohn watched. The worthless control of capitalism that’s now come time to turn on its head and have money flow. Meanwhile political thought got arrested. Communism even, or especially, wrong is still Free Speech. Against communism relatively right. But as a platform for revenge was and remains a Real American Tragedy. 

    Expected my censoring. Why that long? Seriously. I read on Roy Cohn’s doorstep lambasting Dump’s 2016 Election. Second Tuesday in November after First. Commemorating the country’s being taken for a ride. Passing the NYPD Security Cameras, on Madison, that night, leaving? I reminded myself. Americans should want our president influenced to become smarter about what the country needs facing. My American Citizen’s obligation. Roy Cohn Political Scapegoating is just clones denying not admitting. Not facing anything.  

    My contemporary removal means my novel, or this Common Sense II, may at least be a doorstop for when Road Warrior Mel Gibson Rules the World. Searching for gas no one could ever really afford. As on reflection - I am still Three Days of The Condor Too. Ending where Robert Redford illustrates the struggle over who owns and controls Big-Oil’s Domination now. When NOW, 2024? Unethical shoulder shrug. As original film depicts. Outright running from money’s complete vacating of responsibility. So the Koch Brothers didn’t have to close Gas Plants. Better for the world used for something else.  

    Americans are all still dipped in over our heads in deceit. Where even our largest conglomerates are caught in the gesticulating, disproportionate,  money swill not circulating, all around, well enough.  

    Robert Redford? Thinking he’ll change the world, uncovering absolute corruption’s farcicalness? Is told by Cliff Robertson, it doesn’t matter. They own everything anyway. They’ll not admit siphoning. Shriveling money. Destroying the planet. Not admit anything. Robertson even says, “How do you know they’ll publish?” About The New York Times. Because the newspaper is The Power of the Press Challenger. Why is Redford bright and happy? Always irritates me. Mess still not over. Hope was just hope then. 

    While I don’t give a crap. That irresponsibility ran from facing responsibility - is Historical Insight. Legal Crime History. The Criminal Covering Up of History. Florida Governor Ron De Santis, a particular, notoriously public, degenerate. I don’t like history covered up. Nor hiding behind Christianity, that is not about avoidance. Hiding behind banners. Spastic governor carving kids shaped not to face history. History’s everything. Shape up yourself.  

    Illustration. Hitler’s father raised Hitler to rule the Woods playing with the children beneath him. Regaled each other nights as minor league war historians. How Adolph ruled the kids. While his father gorged on his victorious dinner table. My parents waited dinner till I finished watching The News. 

    Then WW I German Generals didn’t need a messenger as Hitler’s described one of the best. Telegraph invented long before. In the bunkers, they further crafted their demented nut. Given them by Hitler’s father. As done with Bibi Gun Netanyahu himself. Against Israel? I want Israel for Israel and Palestine ending the violence of revenge nonsense that Bibi was raised to believe is his violent birthright baby formula. Petulant Netanyahu. You’re not Israel. Just an upset Donald Dump.  

    Word of Mouth’s guillotine counts. Avoiding blame for Irresponsible Oil Spillage was a business plan for three generations. And longer. Still Happening. Despite advertised roll-backs. Wasn’t my idea to keep up defrauding the country and world. Don’t say it exactly, but sell it! Don’t deny pollution. But sell Global Warming is Sufferable. Scapegoat History. An Industry kept destroying. Oy vey. 

    Martyring my conscience describes how paramount fixing the planet is. Beyond how much money’s hoarded, better circulating circulation could be happening right now. Under everyone's noses. In everyone’s pockets. If economists are really smart. Not just collecting paychecks supporting regimes. Meanwhile? Everyone’s indicted. Robert Redford II guillotined. Smile wiped from my face for-ever-more. Heart’s left for Sade’s Pick-Up. Off that overburdened 19th Century Rail. Should have transitioned to Monorail Three Generations Ago.   

    Notice how Three Days of the Condor ends? The New York Times left with no specific voice themselves, as Power of The Press? So, even if in vain. Three Days of The Condor II screams for The New York Times too. As further hurdling past Censorship is what our United States of America Constitution advised as an important informational backstop. To protect personal freedom. AMERICA NEEDS TO READ as Russians desperately liberated themselves some. Clandestinely printing Samizdats - Pamplets. For Everyone’s Benefit. Not just regime. 

    History wins read. While this historical interpretation has indubitably reached The End. 

Malcolm & Sade

Charles M. Fraser

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