HEY, I HAD ONE OF THOSE BARNYARD NOISES PULL-STRING TOYS AS A BABY!!!

"Holy cow, Natalie Portman, guess who's coming to dinner? That's right: Clara Bell, the cow who won't stop talking because she can't get enough!"

Moo, I said, MOO!!!

Chew cud, nerd. Hope you have an enormous baby boy named something thigh-slappingly funny.

(I'm not mad, I was just in the middle of my favorite  Louis L'Amour novel, The Gay Rustler, and have no time for your Hollywood antics, young lady...)

~~~~~~~~

CASA DE MEEEOW RENOVATION CAMPAIGN (Venmo.com); WILLIAM R WAY BOX 206 STONYFORD CA 95979 or william.robert.way@gmail.com...

FACECROOK TWITCHER

The Janus Project/The Tweaker Project (Or Whatever the Hell It Was Called...)

A candle doesn't lose its flame by lighting another candle.  Aw, isn't that heartwarming and inspiring?  It really does speak to the indomitable beauty of the human spirit, to its innate nobility and dignity.  Really, if one could ignore all the death, emotional trauma, ugly (and sometimes criminal) behavior, and sci-fi/fantasy weirdness the experiment engendered among so many over the years, one could see thrown into sharp relief all that is good and worthy about humanity.  It is at first blush an epic waste of everyone's time that I, and not just I, turned into something useful, educational and edifying.  Thank you to whoever had the bright idea of squishing together the noggins of a not-terribly-apt sociopath and a batshit insane fag on meth who has a high IQ and a great deal of empathy.  I'd like to think when this whole production finally wraps up, we'll all be better for it.

(While I have yet to be actually, concretely dealt with in reality -- "reality" being program's synonym for meatspace -- and should therefore worry about my own hide, I can't help but feel pity for Frank H.  If what I suspect is true, his is going to be a sad denouement.  My heart goes out to him.  I hope he finds a good place where he's cared for and loved as best as the principals in the situation can demonstrate love.  Maybe you could "Area 51 his ass."  All he needs is food, water, and protection from anything with which he might accidentally injure himself.  And last I heard, he loves to play Cocaine and Dollhouses.)

P.S.  Was that program really a refinement of and capitalization on those early MKUltra experiments that were such a scandal back in the day?  I'm literally dying to know.  (God, my intellectual curiosity will be the death of me...)

Classified Ultra!

It's heartbreaking and disappointing to find out that the CIA operatives in charge of your case have been assigned to the Narnia division, and are therefore accessible only through a wardrobe...

Reno Screamer

I can't be the only one who's fed up with stories of cops shooting naked, unarmed, fucked-up people in public.  It's 2016 and this shit is still going on!

Frankie Haros At The Movies

Frankie and I like movies, but seldom the same ones.  The following terrified or repelled Frankie, but I found them to have their charms:

• LUCY (2014):  An American party girl in Korea overdoses on some fly-ass dope and acquires god-like powers, without any apparent downside.
• MAMA (2013):  The bitch stabbed a nun and gets run down by a hunting party.  After death, she's got voices and moths -- I fold.
• CARRIE (1976):  "You get in that closet and you pray, little girl!"
• MATILDA (1996):  Okay, so Miss Honey should have killed this little monster and saved the world.  But Matilda is the hero of the story, and that's so deliciously immoral that I love it.
• FIRESTARTER (1984):  Go Charlie, it's your birthday!  Set that motherfucker on fire WITH YOUR GODDAMN BRAIN!
• X-MEN: THE LAST STAND (2006):  I love the scenes where Dark Phoenix goes apeshit and blows people up with her mind.

The next list gave Frankie a wide-on, whereas I could have done without seeing them, thankyouverymuch:

• FATAL BEAUTY (1987):  A bad batch of drugs is made and bagged by a naked Asian girl in San Francisco.  A poor, refrigerator-sized, unarmed black man gets high as a kite on those drugs, walks out of a house, and gets dozens of rounds put in him by the SFPD, which is so like them.  Frankie loves that scene, but I see it and want to beat Whoopi Goldberg to a pulp.  Goddamn you, Whoopi.
• THE HAUNTING OF MOLLY HARTLEY (2008):  Infuriating teenager Molly Hartley is spotted by the community as an unholy creature, and is persecuted and nearly killed -- including by a clergyman's daughter.  Finally, Molly embraces her true evil nature and joins the ranks of the sinister Them. Frankie wanted this to happen to me.
• THE OTHERS  (2001):  The voices Nicole Kidman hears are the living and she's the one who's dead...Boo!  Good one, Frankie...

We both liked CHILDREN OF THE CORN, and both wanted to be He Who Walks Behind The Rows.  I don't know what we would have done with SCANNERS...

Tenderloin Neighborhood Development Corporation

While I spent the last five years at 212, 230 Eddy Street, San Francisco, CA, trying my best not to do the "hot bitch from the 70s" routine where I shrink up against the wall and scream that they're coming to kill me for hours on end, it never occurred to me to put these questions to the City government, HUD, or the intelligence community (a pinay who lived in Riyadh?  Who are you people fooling...)  Anyway:

- What happened to that hot padre who was killed under mysterious circumstances (some say under a cloud) in Rome all those years ago?  Was his death where TNDC started going wrong?

- What if it's not all in my head and nowhere else besides in my head?  Hmm?

- How did that notorious pig Frank Haros (infamous in the 10 square blocks of the Tenderloin for years to come) able to piss everyone off for so long without paying for it?  I mean, who throws money out the window in people's faces and mentions "owning" someone in a predominately black neighborhood and get away with it, among other atrocities?  How did I luck into being a part of that freak show (albeit part-time)?

- Government-subsidized housing in San Francisco isn't rent-controlled?  What does that bode for TNDC's little system wherein they evict "trouble" tenants?

- What did the sheriff's deputy do when he showed up on the 22nd of October to escort me out and found that a gang of paid police officers had rousted me illegally from the unit?  I should follow up on that one.  (That's pretty sad:  in a town whose police department has no Internal Affairs division, you have to be pretty stupid to get in hot water with the commish...)

- Did anyone laugh at William's "Barbara Hershey from THE ENTITY" jokes?

Other questions may occur to me, but I'm kind of over it...

Snake Oil Pitch

We see it every day in the news:  crime, war, sex, drugs, corruption, bad driving.  If only you had the world's ear...

Are people too much for you?  Do they seem out of control?  Don't you wish you could take them in hand and put them where you know they need to be -- where you know they'd be better off?  Try Doctor E's patented program.  Now this is no easy pharmaceutical fix, but a holistic approach that uses Doctor E's proprietary formula combined with a no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners mental program administered by a crack team of behavioral healthcare technicians who know and understand just what you're sure is wrong with the world today.

We can fix your problem, which is that until now you had no way to administer your solution to everyone else's problems (which as we are all aware are right in front of their noses -- if only someone was there to tell them!)  You know what everybody needs, and now, with Doctor E's amazing program, someone's come up with a way to help you get there.

Call now with your credit card at the ready to order your one-of-a-kind panacea for a world gone haywire.  You just know everybody would agree with you -- here's your best chance of convincing them!

(Offer available in California, Maryland, Virginia, Florida, Texas, and Washington, D.C. only.  Our basic package is available for three monthly installments of $1,000,000,000.99 and includes the controversial-yet-sexy elderly/addict/schizophrenics demographic management and containment program.  Megalomaniacal supervillains, please ask for our Prerogatives Extras -- a modestly priced perk for the admirably ambitious and in no way hypocrisy-ridden.)

From Doctor E, creator of psychic, non-smoking Sea Monkeys.  Doctor E, a name you can trust!

"You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs,"  says Donald Rumsfeld -- he knows our program works.  Check out our brochure for other celebrity endorsements.

I Guess Precedent Has It...

That the government can't be sued for violating the Nuremburg Code, which requires voluntary, informed consent be obtained from research and experimentation subjects.  Oh well...

Sorry To My Frienemies At The CIA

But you would have shown little to no loyalty to the psychologists who colluded with you and lent your efforts an air of legitimacy.  The Obama Administration may have shown little interest in prosecuting what journos have found festering under a big rock, but let's hope either the current President changes his mind on this (he may, with only a year or so left in his presidency), or a Clinton or Sanders administration is less reluctant.  (I don't expect much from Clinton, but Sanders or Warren would be great.)

Every Day

Seems like a test of every value I hold dear, every value without which I would happily die.  Reverence, humility, compassion, wisdom, respect, honesty, piety, disobedience to our vested authorities -- all of these feel weighed and their worth now decided on by those capable of positing pure mockeries of them.  My soul is being hammered at by the soulless, and one day it might crack.  I may be sanctimonious and naive, but my life refuses to be reduced to a simple formula for easy digestion by a factotum I've never met and has absolute control over my life or death.  It's been a daunting few years, to say the least.

What can I say?  You have to put a bullet in me to stop me from believing in the things that make life worth living.

That Tickles

http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2013/12/the-6-000-page-report-on-cia-torture-has-now-been-suppressed-for-1-year/282318/

I never could understand how we justified the expenditure and moral cost of torturing detainees.  Torture is as old as written history, and we've always known its only purpose ever is simply to gratify the torturers on very base levels.  People torture just to torture, there's nothing deeper than that, and we haven't learned anything new that's temporally actionable or profound about human nature by indulging this facet of our society.  In this modern era of satellite and drone surveillance, data-mining and wiretapping, and all that rigamarole, it seems to me that if you have the intel you need to capture your intended torture subject, you have access to all the intel torturing him or her could net you -- if not reams more.  It makes no sense that we do shit like stress-positions, water boarding, electrocution, rape, et cetera.

"Do You Ever Notice" (In My Best Andy Rooney...)

...Whenever the government wishes to extra-legally detain, torture, or unethically and in contravention to accepted morality experiment upon people, the subjects are almost invariably people we could do with more of in civilian life?  The subjects are never people we almost all of us profess to want gone, and they're never openly unpopular types.  Subjects are always politically inconvenient, or interesting, or really awesome as people...

On a tangent, it occurs to me to ask, how many Gitmo detainees have dossiers that in fact identify them as reformist, non-radical, secular, Western-sympathizing, and/or liberal?  More than I can count on my as yet complete set of ten fingers, I'll warrant...

Not Hollow For Long...

...Not that it takes more than one of "those" to do the job.  But I guess the attempt at feigning an organic ego exactly my antithesis necessitates apparent inscrutability even when there's a risk of just apparent ineptitude.  I'm torn:  Sit in the box until death?  Are you kidding?  Heather would never get herself killed on that carpet -- it's dirty.  Alternatively, it's cold and no safer outside.  And I'd have to put up with the stage stuff perimortem...  Yawn.

I can at least say that last night was the most wonderful in that everyone else seemed to be genuinely having fun doing what they wanted -- none of that exsanguinated, creaky, creepy vibe.  I may have been unable to enjoy myself fully because of what I had to process.  But I'm glad of everyone else seeming to be in a good mood.

Just In Case

A. Thank you for the very kind compliment that I'm the best person you've ever encountered in these endeavors. I just hope you take my word for it and know that I know so many people who are better than I am. I, among my social circle, am one of the worst I know.  I know in the line of work those of you who chat with me pursue that you usually associate only with pieces of shit, but please take my word for it:  you should try expanding your social circle wherever possible.

B. Isn't that crazy? In public discourse I've always considered my opposition to be the cavalier, the antebellum, the lost causers. I had no idea how antagonistic Yankees would prove. Also, why are Midwesterners never factored in?

C.  Thanks for all your good intentions and kind wishes and prayers.  I feel on the balance love has won out even if in the end I am in fact busted up for higher purposes.  I'm so glad I've been the cause of so little suffering, considering, and though I probably end in agony, I hope humanity continues to be worthy of survival as it persists.

Resident Evil Pipes Up

Granted, I'm lower than low.  And poor!  Don't even get me started on that...  Still, lately I've had a problem with being paraded about with multiple gunshot wounds and busted out entrails beyond my awareness.  I'm really quite shocked that onlookers continue to tolerate it.  I'm not in charge, but it seems no one wants to account for an ambulatory chitlins parade...

Thanks everyone for your forbearance and patience.  I'm glad when it usually works out in the end, but we'll see how it goes in my case...

OMG

http://gaw.kr/rnjOksp

Navel-Gazing Whilst Gutshot

Why am I tormented for what my tormentors tell others I feel?  Because they deem me guilty of the crime of thought.  To be sure, the entire program was run for the sexual gratification of one man, hence its serruptitous application.  But it seems also to serve those who would really rather not have a razor lying around.  Someone might pick it up and use it to sever truth from fiction, reality from delusion.

The challenge is immense.  Surely simple death is total domination enough, and easily accomplished years prior to this and with a minimum of fuss, dallying, and dollars spent.  There is definitely a desire to exact maximal excrutiation and fear.

What is the total overall cost to fulfill the desire that another, even one as insignificant as I am, suffer as much as the tormentor can imagine is possible?  What does the line-item budget look like?  A years-long, multiphase program whose administrators disavow is of benefit to anyone, lest the subject enjoy even an iota of pride or enjoyment.

Actually, never mind.  So many questions answer themselves...

I Know I Have A Lot To Complain About...

But what's the point?  It's bad enough that people nevertheless found out about my situation -- how traumatic for them!

Okay, so a bit of belated venting (I've said so many thank-yous and your-welcomes, and will again soon):

I'm trying to avoid home all day today.  The unit is cheap for more than just the usual reasons.  Sometimes it feels like the psychosexual playpen of some worthless pieces of shit who somehow found jobs doing something no one should ever have done (certainly, no one with an iota of scruples asked them to.)  My neighbor continues to stalk me (and not even because he likes it -- his orders were to pretty much harass me to suicide, as though killing me weren't the easiest thing in the world.)  They've (and why the hell on Earth did I have to be the one with not only "Them," but multiple thems, some of whom are, as morality and good taste probably require, nominally on my side?) failed at everything, of course:  causing aphasia was one stated goal, suicide was another, "Elizabethan Drama" AKA Hamlet Murder Spree was another (idiots -- any ethical behavioral specialist would have told them immediately that someone as emotive as I am virtually never turns killer for any reason other than immediate self-defense.)  He or his wondering-why-they're-a-hair's-breadth-from-being-badgeless-if-they're-not-already cronies are reduced to planting bed bugs in my room (my responsibility, of course), and twice have stolen from me.  One of the more worthless little cunts tried to convince my neighbor I could turn homicidal under their tender ministrations -- a laugh as the neighbor she's trying to convince is from the Phillipines and a hell of a lot sharper than she acts.  She knows a killer from murder-bait.  The whole total domination thing continues to be a huge farce, a conspiracy to get revenge on me for being "difficult to work with," and hopefully to achieve sexual gratification for its architect, who is (oh please let that be "was," a past tense reality to be examined by a Senate Subcommittee Hearing I will be too embarrassed on behalf of the wrongdoers to want to know about) employed (or at least given license) by the same people who kept a dossier on my grandmother (COINTELPRO) for the precise reason that they did so (and kept one on me, as well, because of my political activities during the Bush Administration.)

These craptastic fucktards couldn't even successfully get me arrested.  Jesus.  Any twisted pig worth his or her salt could just make it up on the way to booking, for fuck's sake.

"Ooh, look at us, we're so evil...Ooh, and we're getting away with it.  We're going to kill you with lots of bullets and stuff."  That's pretty much what they act like with me.  Yeah, some of the emotional play is clever, but not terribly.  I have a theory that some of them do too much drugs, and maybe the wrong kind.  They make me wish I had more drugs -- MDMA and windowpane are looking lovely right now.  Threaten me for years and then BANG I'm dead.  I just don't know what they're out to accomplish -- mere emotional manipulation (not that hard with me), or successful cognitive capture and perceptual blockage or manipulation?  What does it matter whether or not I perceive my assailant?  What the fuck is the point of ghosting a non-com?  None  of these goals makes sense, as I'm as big and important as any other of the 7 billion assholes skulking about the globe, and really not worth the trouble.  And if I was wanted dead, why that was easily accomplished out of hand years ago.  What does it matter what's going on in my skull?  How does Dr. Caligari-ing me aid humanity in any meaningful sense?

And where did the fucking overwhelming firepower brought to bear on a psy-ops subject come into play?  A baby blue Marine could swish into my hovel and break my neck with two hands.

And what's with the being threatened by my occasionally making sense of some of what's going on?

And how is a conspiracy against little old me in any way impressive?

Of course answers will never be forthcoming.  But I'd really like to know why I'm the chosen one, when I'd much rather be another paranoid schizo loser.

Eat your heart out, MKUltra.

Of course, wouldn't it be funny if the punchline were that I was to me made a fool of?

Um, yeah.  There's a reason I just listened to that inane shit for years -- I was forced to.  If anyone else feels put out by the situation that's been going on, just count your motherfucking lucky stars that you're not me.

7 Things OF WHICH All Americans Should Disapprove

Just putting this out there.  I was an ardent Obama supporter, and voted him in for his second term (I mean, our only alternative are Tea Party nutcases from the Land of Utter Delusion.)  I couldn't find much to disagree with in this list, and I think it's worth pondering and promulgating:

http://www.disinfo.com/2013/01/seven-things-all-americans-should-disapprove-of/

So What The Fuck You Want, Bitch?

I've got to say, I'm grateful yet harried and stressed that I've been rescued from a vast right-wing conspiracy against my life.  It's so damning because I'm such a fucking nobody.  I mean, I author a smart-ass left-wing blog in my late 20s, during the heydey of the Bush Administration, and I might end up another Tutu or Kennedy if I'm unlucky, and what happens?  I get flagged.  As soon as enough years pass by with enough bullshit in the interim, I'm deemed disposable and can be shot by a fucking dickwad.  What the hell?  It's awful on my neighbors and friends and family, and it should be the last thing my erstwhile political opponents want, but it gets planned anyway.  From Jonny E. to Arizona plates on Jeep Cherokees, from stagecraft and Rove playbook to methamphetamine to psy-ops, I'm frankly flummoxed.  It's just too much.  You'd think I was King of the World, the way I've been mistreated.

Sorry, folks, I can't handle being the center of attention.  I'm fine being schizoaffective and bipolar with a chip in my head.  Who needs all the other drama?  Who the fuck works someone's mind as they're killing them?  Who on earth faces such a death?  I tell you, I could just drown myself in the toilet...

Alas, alack, and fuck our luck, really good people have done their damnedest to save my life.  I must do my best and abide, and hope it doesn't blow up in our faces.

And you thought you were paranoid.