Some problem about mind control. Somebody else says don't worry about; it was Rose Ann's misunderstanding, something to do with me and the Jesuits.
Richard Condon says Attilla the Hun was a very charming guy. There is a monument in the Middle East mourning an attack by "the Brigand, Joshua."
Salvador Allende, Dead or Alive?
More to the point, Allende's faction, racist or not. This faction is being accused of parental extortion against my family. Chileans are much like Cubans in that they avoided intermarriage with Native Americans. That Allende was a socialist is beside the point. He was an elected socialist who was disposed by an undemocratic, fascist military clique. Castro's criticism of Allende was the greatest compliment he ever received: he had not, said Fidel, instilled the necessary fear of the government, Allende's socialist government, in the hearts of his people. The American corporations in Chile, Pepsi, Lever Brothers, ITT, are among the most conspiratorial companies anywhere in the world. Nationalizing them would have — although a violation of economic freedom in the eyes of conservatives — accomplished a great deal in terms of ending the fraud that Third World people are somehow benefiting from American investments in their nations (see State of Siege).
I have always liked Allende. I've always believed he was victim of a terrible injustice, not because he was a Bolshevik whose people supported him. It is the masses, not the Marxist leaders, these capitalists fear, for which reason the US aluminum companies also stopped Jamaica. The question is — if Allende's life was spared by SEG, was it because, like Castro, he is a Castillian racist? Is he? Or isn't he? Nazis don't object to socialism any more than they object to monopoly cartel capitalism. Both are the same, a few handpicked bureaucrats determine the fates of everyone else. The same clique controls both State and economy, whether they are corporate executives selected to serve in the Cabinet or socialist appointees assigned to run factories. The idea is that there are such vast differences in people that some are fit to rule others, though in fact the most brilliant person seldom can competently manage his own affairs, much less the affairs of hundreds of thousands of millions of others.
The objection to racism and all other forms of elitism is SOCIOLOGICAL. Communication is only possible between equals. One person can only effectively govern one person, that's why everybody is equipped with a brain. (See the rest of my corollaries to the SNAFU Principle in a past issue of Spare Change that appeared in a past issue of FreFanZine). Bureaucracy, whether in the form of states, caste systems, corporations or any other coercively enforced hierarchy, is always, inevitably a long road to betrayal of the goals for which it was intended. (And corporations could not exist as we know them without the State, although Libertarians insist they are voluntary.)
"CKQ" = Child Killing Quotient
A zooty pimp in Atlanta was before the judge, charged with creating turmoil. The case against him was brief and credible. His conduct in the courtroom was cavalier and extroverted. When the judge dismissed the charges against him he scratched her cheek.
That scenario was repeated in another form the other day. Both times the accused was symbolized as Mark Lane. Whether it only happened once and I was told about it twice, or whether it happened two or more times, I couldn't hazard a guess. The names of everyone involved and their "CKQ" ratings would, paradoxically it seems, require an atmosphere free of extortion to begin with. A complex, though probably not unsolvable, problem.
Anyway, today I'm sitting on somebody's grass complaining about how pawnly I feel with this power struggle that appears to be going on between Rockefeller and Demarra, and they turn on their sprinklers. That old "I had to leave" thing Berkman mused about. Sons of men with nowhere to lie their heads. Or no rest for the wicked, maybe.
Andrew Young says, they say, not to get trapped, as he is, in the Worldwide Church of God.
III
One Saturday morning Mariposa came into the living room just as I was waking up. Standing next to the TV set she looked my way and said "Which cartoon shall I watch today? This one (taking a little bow) or this one (turning on the television)?" I could tell she was mimicking me. She was what I later learned is called a "mirror." She also made snide remarks in cant when I got erections, although how she or her controllers could tell something like that was happening was quite beyond me.
I began to perceive an enormous amount of pressure in this direction. Jude kept prominently displaying a book called The Little Flowers of Saint Francis. I was supposed by somebody to be a celibate holy man, probably because of what I'd said to June that afternoon we fucked and I told her I'd gotten into tantric celibacy, to explain why I wasn't into attaining an orgasm. Or else the bastards were just mad at me for exposing their World Wide Church of God Conspiracy and this orthodox nagging was their demented notion of fit punishment.
In any case, that day I woke up with a hard-on and had to listen to Mariposa stand there and tell me I was a "naughty puppy." I became enraged. I stormed up to the Jack in the Box for coffee and told them to tell Jimmy Carter to tell whoever it was that no-one was going to go around saying I was celibate, or supposed to be celibate, and get away with it. I would, if necessary, publish incredibly pornographic writing to rebuke rumors like that.
At that time I was still not masturbating because of that experience with the astral witch. This, I'd learned, was called a "pinch." This mind control causing a lack of sexual desire during most waking hours. It felt like a "pinch" in my spinal column, just above my sexual chakra, cutting off sexual energy. Nevertheless I wasn't going to be celibate forever. They just told me I was arguing with a straw man. "That's extra," they said, complete agreement ("X") with straw.
Many years earlier, one calm hot night in Atlanta, Linda behaved more unusually than usual. "Listen to this Neil Diamond song" she demanded. I am, I said, and there was no one there, not even a chair. "Have you ever felt that way?" "No," I shrugged.
"Then you wouldn't understand," she said in tears.
Not long before this afternoon, hearing that song, having been through what I'd been through, I said "oh, Jesus, do I ever understand now!" That song was playing again on the radio and I was weeping unashamedly in the middle of Jude's living room. In conspiracy lingo "Neil Diamond" is Nelson Rockefeller and a "check" is something that confuses matters. Whitney said "Check it out, he's crying about Neil Diamond." Nelson Rockefeller's alleged death had been announced recently, with canted hints that it was just staged. I was crying for Linda. I let it pass, though. Not long afterwards Newport cigarette billboards appeared with the motto "Check It Out!" Two black people, a man and a woman, dressed in blue and yellow, symbolic of the KKK, were pictured in the ad laughing like heedless fools it seemed to me.
AWL: Anarchist Workingclass Satanism. I also called it Zenarchy. I assumed that Jude, Witney and Mariposa were all victims of implanted surveillance devices like me. I also figured there were probably bugs in the walls. Experimentation and feedback convinced me that I could say anything I wanted when I was in the house alone, although I had to be very careful only to follow cues when anyone was present. So I explained my political views in eloquent stoned speeches, designating coded significances to pieces of furniture to facilitate silent communication when my hosts returned. I also began dealing with lots of intelligence community Satanism. When I once asked Cameron what the attraction of Satanism was to our friends like Ron Garst and Robert Anton Wilson, he theorized it was the John Wayne syndrome, the need for excitement. After three-and-one-half years of tedium and boring juvenile harassment I was beginning to understand this much. I was always being accused of being too restless, of tinkering with plans beyond my understanding, etc. I also liked Robert Anton Wilson's Miltonic Satanism, expounded in the Trilogy, epitomized in the motto NON SERVIUM! Anarchist in our code was symbolized with the letter "A." Working class was at that time designated with "W." Satanism was "L." So I called my teachings in that house "AWL," after the Zen roshi who compared the enlightened being to "a rusty awl." I wanted something with a funky, organic mood. Not shrill or romantic as conventional revolutionary ideology. I deemed it Satanism because in that social environment it involved the Jesuitical convolution and craftiness which I associated with Satanism as I'd come to know it.