*************************************************
 
OK
Good Morning.
I'll start off with a quick vignette
about life in davis, ca
and an illustration of what it's like
when there's a conspiracy out to get you.

Like Keith Oberman of MSNBC say,
"If it's true, you're not paranoid."
Here's an illustration of entrapment
that is seemingly innocent an innocuous on the face of it,
but very sinister and evil when you look closer.

Our Graduate Student went to uc davis because it was rural,
or still kind of rural in the seventies.
He was from newark and jersey city and new york city
and couldn't wait to flee the urban madness.
That's one of the reasons he joined the navy
and requested a california home port.
Even in the first decade of the 2000's
it was still possible to live in and around davis in a camper.
It was surrounded by farmland.
But davis had a kooky leftist street scene a bit
that spilled over from Berkeley, S.F., and sacramento
(think squeaky fromme),
and the feminists in davis were as radical as they come.
(I'LL CITE RAVITCH AND D'SOUZA ON THAT WHEN I HAVE TIME)

So Our Graduate Student had to deal with
a certain amount of hostility from the davis street people
and, of course, the feminists.
Because Our Graduate Student lived in a camper,
they mistook him for one of them at first,
and they were almost as annoying as the christians are
in their attempt to "save" him
by embracing him into their fold and their lifestyle.
He'd have none of it.
He'd been through that nonsense over 30 years ago
when he was a 19-year-old hippie on the Lower East Side.
He was just there to take classes
and life in a familiar and safe town
that was as much his as anybody else's.
He went to school there and lived there for two years
and worked there.
It was his town as much as it was anybody else's.
But they got mad when they couldn't "reform" him
into their mold (like the christians do).

There were at least 3 flareups
where Our Graduate Student had to call the police.
Several of the troublemakers hung out at a particular cafe.
There was one in particular,
an mentally ill white female in her 50's or so.
You know - the sixties generation.
She once tried to lure him to go to into
a garbage bin behind the liberal food coop
(for some throwaway food).
Another time, in the bookstore,
she stole his wallet with all his identification.
The store manage saw her do it,
but the davis police didn't do anything about it
(in general the davis police were very helpful to him though).
And of course you know they'd send their young studs after him,
and Our Graduate Student had to call the police
one day by the laundromat near where he used to live
because of an imminent attack by a young fool.
But that's all just background information.

Listen to this.
Over at that laundromat, one day
a middle-aged white female "vet student" chatted him up.
She exposed herself to be clearly
your typical radical davis feminist
with all their talk and attitudes.
So she said she had some extra cat food or dog food in her car
and Our Graduate Student accepted it politely.
Now that was OK and kind of a normal pleasantry
even between people of opposing political persuasions.
But the follow-ups were weird.
He was driving a truck over the road
and, during that time, she never called him,
but once he swung into the edges of town for a while
and as he was leaving she called
so they could meet up and she could give her dog food.
She wanted to drive across town
to give him a couple of dollars worth of dog food.
It wasn't worth the time and gas,
and he KNEW it wasn't because she liked him.
It was weird, suspicious.
She seemed to know when he came into town.
Well, many many months went by
and Our Graduate Student moved around,
for a while living near Travis AFB,
and then he got that job in Nevada
where he was imprisoned by schwarzenegger.
So, he came back
and I told you the story
of how he blogged and emailed the situation
to various journalists and judges and politicians,
and he decided to settle for a misdemeanor plea
rather than take his chances on fighting a felony.
So, he goes to court, get sentenced for the misdemeanor,
steps out of the building
and, within a few minutes his phone rings
from an undisplayed number.
It's that dog food feminist
and she says she's downtown sacramento,
near the courthouse,
and she has some dog food for him !
Her number didn't display
and she said she was calling from a phone booth !

What's wrong with this picture ?
Now, think about it for a minute.
He hadn't heard from her in months
and all of a sudden she calls him
the moment he steps out of the courthouse in sacramento
after being sentenced for a misdemeanor, not a felony.
How the hell does she know he's in sacramento ?
Why is she calling from a phone booth ?
Nobody does that anymore.
She said she was a couple of blocks away
and had some dog food for him.

So, naively, Our Graduate Student
drives around the corner,
but there was too much traffic
and nowhere to park and he didn't want to get a ticket,
so he just drove on,
not having any way to call her back.
But it just seemed so odd to him
and finally he got it.
Why was she so desperate to get him some dog food,
especially at that very moment
when he had officially escaped forever the felony charges
with a misdemeanor.
She was up to something.
What could it be.
Why did she want him to have that dog food ?
Was it poisoned, or...
AHA !
was it planted !?
It was one of those moments
when he'd wished he'd thought of it sooner !
Then he could have called the cops
and told them he was about to be framed
and would they come over and witness
as the davis feminist delivered to him
the dog food planted with drugs.

THAT was DEFINITELY connected to the conspiracy.
She was definitely working for the conspirators,
whether it was barbara boxer or jan scully
or some other sacramento feminist politician.

*******

All right, so we got that vignette told.
Now one more up there at the One Stop in woodland.
It's not that serious like the one above could have been,
or maybe it was in a way
because it kinda just showed the way they treated him,
their attitudes toward him.

So that One Stop was an easy going place.
There was a crew of about 3 workers
who had a good thing going there.
I wouldn't exactly say they just goofed off all day,
but they didn't have to work very hard.
They just kind of sat there and chatted
and told new clients about the services
and there in that room the main service was internet use.
There were regulars who came in every day, all day
and knew the employees like friends and family.
They knew about the employees' marital issues
and other personal things.
Now, Our Graduate Student wasn't interested
in getting that personal with these people,
but he did become a daily all day regular
and he got along.
Our Graduate Student had a LOT of work to do
and he took advantage of the all day, free internet
and free printing.
He was renewing his teaching credentials
and applying for overseas teaching jobs
and learning all about the international teaching scene.
He was building his website and blogging
and following the 2003 Recall Election closely
and participating in it.

There were 3 employees there,
all in their 30's or 40's,
2 white females, and one hispanic male.
One white female was bar trash,
big, somewhat overweight, with a sideline as a bartender,
ungraceful, but she thought she was all that cuz she was blonde
and the bar drunks probably flirted with her.
The hispanic guy was polite and neat
but he had a little bit of a chip on his shoulder.
What made the situation work for Our Graduate Student
was that the other white female wasn't an American !
She was Australian or something, with the accent and everything.
She didn't have all the white bitchy feminist attitudes
that the American females had.
She actually liked
Our Graduate Student
who behaved and dressed well
and reciprocated her warm cordiality.
It took them months, to turn her against him,
but that was all he needed to get a lot of work done.

They had this little tiny Indian security guard,
about 70 years old and 5 feet tall.
They used him to try to keep Our Graduate Student out,
but Our Graduate Student just ignored him.
Only once did it get really serious
when the little guard actually stood at the door
of the computer room
and refused Our Graduate Student entry.
He accused Our Graduate Student of having walked through
the adjacent work space (he hadn't).
The guard said that he saw him do it with his own eyes
(he had to be lying).
So, the guard was yelling at him at the door
and Our Graduate Student raised his voice and said,
"Leave me alone !" and walked in and got to work.
The hispanic guy came over and said,
"Dave, you're scaring people,"
and Our Graduate Student just shakes his head in disbelief.
He was just doing what everybody else was doing.
He was coming in and sitting at the computer
and working all day, and getting along.
It was the guard who did the yelling
and made outrageous allegations
and outrageously tried to keep Our Graduate Student
from using the services that he had as much right to use
as everyone else did.
But that's how those feminists work.
They'd get some immigrant who didn't know American culture
and give him some instructions like,
"We don't want that guy coming here any more.
Keep him out,"
and then just let the immigrant do it his own way.
The feminists could just pretend they knew nothing about it
and that it was just a cultural difference.
I can't remember how that played out.
I vaguely remember having a friendly 30-second interview
about the incident with some well dressed white guy
who looked like a plainclothed cop,
and I remember being told by some white women
that I wasn't allowed to go into that room.
They wanted to make sure that I understood that.
Of course, I had never gone in there
nor tried to go in there
nor wanted to go in there,
so I, Our Graduate Student,
just wondered what the hell it was all about.

It was just a real big government office room,
the size of a cafeteria, full of white women.
Many government offices are like that -
swarming with white women
who sit around all day and balance their checkbooks
and talk about sales and gossip about suspected predators.
Speaking of that,
all the computers in the One Stop
were subject to surveillance,
probably by the white feminists in that big room.
Every now and then,
some incredibly sexy pop-up would appear
on the computer that Our Graduate Student was using.
It was always some incredibly sexy video link
with an incredibly sexy underage girl in it.
Oh, yeah, they were just waiting
for that one time when Our Graduate Student
would click on it, but he knew what they were doing.
It was like a cold war,
where they were constantly flying their jets up to the border
to see if my defenses were up.

Pelosi
I wrote that in a big headline to get your attention
'cause it sure got Our Graduate Student's attention
when he saw it on an email for a teaching job
in Karachi, Pakistan.
It said something like,
"are you really serious about this ?"
meaning teaching Physics in Karachi.
Our Graduate Student was serious about it
until he saw the name, Pelosi.
Was there a connection ?
He had no way of knowing,
but you know what they say.
It's all fun and games
until someone gets their head cut off.
Somebody named pelosi offering a teaching job
to Our Graduate Student
in karachi, pakistan.
hmmm.

So one time this waddling matron is in the room,
probably from that big office
and Our Graduate Student gets up from his seat
after hours at the computer
with both arms full of books and papers
and he rolls the seat back to the computer counter
using his foot.

"don't kick the chair," she says to him.
"I didn't kick it. I pushed it," he replied.
"I was just concerned at the way you kicked it."
"I didn't kick it. I pushed it," Our Graduate Student said.
She didn't stop. Once again she used the work "kicked."
"I didn't kick it. I pushed it," Our Graduate Student said.
Now you might be wondering how Our Graduate Student
could be so rude as to argue with the waddling matron like that.
He wasn't arguing.
She was.
She was accusing him of kicking office furniture,
inappropriate and unprofessional behavior in any office.

He didn't kick it. He pushed it with his foot.
That's how you move chairs that have wheels.
You push them
with your hand OR with your hips or with your thigh
or with your foot, if your arms are full.
"I didn't kick it. I pushed it," he said.
"with your foot" she just HAD to have the last word.

So Our Graduate Student just shook his head.
SOMEBODY had to be the adult.

*******

All Right, I just wanted to tell those two vignettes
about the dog food drug plant conspiracy feminist from davis
and the way they treated Our Graduate Student
at the One Stop county government office.
His daughter thought they were really mean to him,
in case you want a second opinion.

So, anyway, lets get on to two pillars of the conspiracy,
significant and highly connected incidents
that really make no sense
unless you see them in light of the conspiracy.

These two events helped make it clear to Our Graduate Student
that there was a conspiracy
and that they were out to get him.

"If it's true, you're not paranoid." Keith Oberman.

*******

Incident One. Entrapment Attempt.
Our Graduate Student looked into renewing
his california teaching credential
and he found out it wouldn't be that hard.
They kept on changing the rules.
They'd try this fad, then that
and find out it was a stupid idea
(meaning the entitled white feminists didn't like it)
and then they'd change it.

It used to be hard to renew your credential.
They were only good for five years.
During that five years you had to go through
"professional growth."
Those white female teachers
really love to fantasize that they're professionals.
It's all style over substance.
So they enacted all these
"professional growth requirements."
You had to develop a "professional growth plan"
and have it approved by a "professional growth advisor."
The plan usually consisted of a couple of 3-unit courses,
and, I think, a number of hours of "professional seminars."
They just love all that fancy talk.
professional seminars.
It all had to fit into some professional growth goal.
It was all supposed to be approved ahead of time,
even before you took the courses,
by your "professional growth advisor."
But that could be waived by the "professional growth advisor,"
and always was 'cause the whole damned thing
just turned out to be a total pain in the ass for everyone.
Each school was supposed to have their designated
"professional growth advisor."
But if you didn't have one,
like if you were a sub or something,
it could be just about anybody.
Any teacher could be your "professional growth advisor."
OUr Graduate Student wasn't teaching
and wasn't even on any sub lists
because his california credentials had expired.
But he was living in yolo county
and spending his days in the woodland One Stop Career Center,
so he drove about a mile or less
over to the yolo county department of education
and requested a "professional growth advisor."

He was seen by a white female waddling matron,
a yolo county education administrator named elizabeth ruport,
in her office.
She began to play cat and mouse.
She smirked and asked Our Graduate Student
WHY he wanted to renew his teaching credential.
That was a hard one.
"Uhhhhhhh, let's see," he said, scratchin' his ass
and then fartin' and pickin' his nose.
"Um, ta teach ?"
Musta been the wrong answer.
He, as they say, had a lot to learn, apparently.
So she gave him a little lesson,
and a little test.

She started with the runaround.

She sent him to sacramento to the credentialing department
and told him to come back if they didn't help him.

Surprise. They didn't.

So he came back.
He sat there with his "professional growth form"
and his transcripts in his hand.
He had already taken education classes in Alaska
at the university of Alaska. Remember ?
Also, he had taken the Microsoft Office suite of classes
and an html class for building web pages
at sac city college in davis a couple of years earlier.
NOBODY could deny that those were appropriate
for any professional growth program.
He just needed someone to sign the form.
That's what the law required.
You had to get your "professional growth advisor"
to approve of your "professional growth plan"
and sign the damn form.
That's what the law said.
Then you could go online and renew your credential
and online you had to check a box
certifying that your "professional growth plan"
was signed by your "professional growth advisor."

It was kinda like getting a ticket
for having a tail light out on your car.
You had to fix the tail light
and then show it to a police officer
and have him/her sign the "fixit ticket."
Then you mailed the ticket in and "voila."

The yolo county education administrator
elizabeth ruport told Our Graduate Student
that she knew someone "high up"
in the credentialing department.
She said she'd call her
and told her to come back in a few day.

He did.
She acted like she didn't know what he was there for.
"all you really need," she said,
"is for someone to sign your form."
Hello.
That's what he said on day one.
Why was she playing cute and dumb.
She knew that.
Everybody had to do it.
So, Our Graduate Student said, "Yes. That's right,"
and extended his "professional growth form"
across her desk toward her.
She declined to sign it.
She said that her friend "high up"
in the credentialing department in sacramento
said that he should just renew online
and, IF HE GOT AUDITED,
that he should then get "his professional growth form" signed.

Are you with me?
Do you see how this is SIGNIFICANT
AND
CONNECTED to the conspiracy.

THEY WERE SETTING HIM UP !!!!!!!!!!!!!
They were actually ADVISING HIM to commit fraud !

He went to the yolo county office of education
seeking a "professional growth advisor"
to look at his transcripts
and sign off on his "professional growth plan."
What was their professional growth advice ?

COMMIT FRAUD !
No. I'm NOT making too much of this.
ANY credentialed person could have signed it.
Our Graduate Student was doing it right,
like the professional he is.
He didn't go to some school
and bother some busy administrators or teachers there
who didn't know him.
He went to the yolo county administration offices
where they have nothing to do all day
but sit around behind their desks in their offices
and call each other up
and play politics,
just like in that cafeteria room in the One Stop building,
but even more so.

Even though he was a resident of yolo county,
had graduated from uc davis in yolo county,
had just taken courses at sac city college in davis in yolo county,
was doing daily job search and career development
in the woodland One Stop less than a mile a way in yolo county,
had lived in davis for two years during college,
received his mail at his davis P.O. Box,
elizabeth ruport, yolo county education administrator,
with nothing better to do than sit
on her fat, waddling, entitled white feminist ass all day,
refused to sign the routine, trivial form,
and refused to assign a "professional growth advisor" to him.

Instead, she encouraged him to certify online
that he got it signed,
even though he didn't have it signed.
She encouraged him to commit fraud.
Trivial fraud, one might argue, but fraud nonetheless.
And you already saw what happened
with that silly election signature thing.
Besides, all she had to do was sign the damn thing !
THAT was her fucking job !

SHE TRIED TO ENTRAP HIM !
She tried to entrap Our Graduate Student
into committing fraud.
Do I have to keep on jumping up and down
and doing tumbles and somersaults
and saying it over and over and over
in different ways ?

It's a God Damned Motherfucking Conspiracy
committed by liberal feminist politicians
and educators at the highest levels
do destroy Our Graduate Student,
with a special emphasis on getting him labeled
as a fraud
so they could discount all the truth he wrote
as the writings of a fraud.

GET IT ?

There is no other reasonable explanation
for her outrageous behavior.
Nothing else makes sense.
But it makes perfect sense
in light of the conspiracy against Our Graduate Student.

GET IT ?
GET IT ?
GET IT ?
GET IT ?

If you don't, it's because you don't want to.

So, Our Graduate Student went to the ESL Teacher
who was teaching classes in the One Stop building,
and he collegially signed the form
and Our Graduate Student renewed his credentials online.

LEGALLY.

*******

Enough.
on to boxer.

This is another big pillar of the conspiracy
that's both 100% SIGNIFICANT
AND
100% CONNECTED.

There's NO doubt about it.
This is the lynchpin.
It is blatant, shocking, astounding.

Our Graduate Student very reluctantly
filed for bankruptcy in the late 90's
when he got back from Alaska.
About 7 years later, he was still foundering financially,
for reasons explained in this book.
They were about to change the bankruptcy laws
and make it much more difficult to file for bankruptcy.
There was a flurry of filings.
Our Graduate Student decided he'd better get on board.
Ever the optimist,
he always figured things HAD to get better,
and he might as well start out debt free.
Besides, he'd already done it once.
What difference did it make ?

So he found an ad in the paper
of some sacramento attorney
who was advertising for the rush of bankruptcies.
So he got his financial paperwork together
and went down there and signed on.
He disclosed everything.
He was driving a truck at that time,
(or started driving again shortly thereafter).
He had to go to the attorney's office
about 2 or 3 times.
One visit was to review everything and approve it.
That's kind of hard for the bankruptcy client to do
because it's just a big financial mess
with all kids of letters
from all kinds of collection agencies
with all kinds of misleading name
and a jumble of account numbers -
kind of like the mortgage foreclosure mess today
where nobody really seems to know what bank
or mortgage company or lender really holds the mortgage.
So you just organize it as well as you can
and bring it all in to the bankruptcy attorney
and authorize him/her to get your credit reports,
and pay them their $1,500 and let them do their thing.
So when they ask you to approve the bankruptcy documents,
the client just says,
"I gave you everything.
Did you get it all on there ?"
And they say "Yes," and the client approves.

That's the way it happened with Our Graduate Student.

He did notice, in reviewing the documents,
that the real estate section was blank.
He owned a lot in the southern central valley
towards bakersfield
that he bought at auction for $1,500
and that was appraised at $250.
It was landlocked.
Our Graduate Student pointed out this omission
to the bankruptcy attorney
and the attorney showed him that is was disclosed
elsewhere on the form
and said that it was OK to do it that way.

Now a short time later
Our Graduate Student engaged the services
of a personal injury attorney
because he had been rear-ended while driving a truck
a couple of months earlier.
He notified both attorneys
(personal injury and bankruptcy)
by phone and by mail
and authorized them to share the information necessary
in order to file the bankruptcy properly.

Now let's pause to describe the first bankruptcy hearing
in the late 1990's.
It was like going to the department of motor vehicles.
Thirty clients or so were sitting in chairs
in the courtroom waiting for their name to be called.
The get called. They go up and attest and go home.
Next.

All right. Now let's describe Our Graduate Student's
first hearing about 7 years later.
It was a different building.
He gets on the elevator and goes to the assigned room.
It was a small conference room with a conference table.
The only other people there are his attorney and the judge,
who is a "temporary administrative judge,"
a native of India.
It seemed kind of odd.
Where was everybody else.
It should have been packed, even more so than before.
After all, the law was changing.
There was a flood of bankruptcies to beat the change.

So they sit down and the temporary judge
starts questioning Our Graduate Student.
The guy asks if he has any real estate and he says yes
and describes it.
This guy scolds him and asks him why he didn't disclose it.
Our Graduate Student explains that he DID disclose it,
but not in the real estate section
and explains that the attorney did it that way
and said it was OK to do it that way
and that he just relied on his attorney's professional advice.
Meanwhile the attorney is just sitting there
and doesn't say anything.

Then this temporary judge guy questions him
regarding whether he has any pending financial judgements
or lawsuits and Our Graduate Student describes
the personal injury lawsuit
from being rear-ended while driving a truck.
It wasn't disclosed.
Our Graduate Student asks the attorney
why it wasn't disclosed.
The temporary judge guy scolds Our Graduate Student
and sets a date for another hearing.

Mind you now, this entire bankruptcy
is for less than ten thousand dollars worth
of credit cards, excluding fees and charges,
and who knows what they amount to !

So Our Graduate Student leaves with the attorney
and the attorney says that that temporary judge
is just one of those "by the letter guys"
'cause he's a foreigner.

Our Graduate Student forgives the attorney,
figuring he's just really busy
from taking on all the work he could get
during the rush as the bankruptcy laws changed.

So then there's the second hearing.
The paperwork still hasn't been fixed !
Then it gets weirder.
There was a lot of shuffling around.
Our Graduate Student are sent outside to wait
and his attorney walks him to a couple of chairs
and they sit there
and Our Graduate Student notices
that they're sitting right outside
U.S. Senator barbara boxer's office.
I mean RIGHT OUTSIDE it.
Our Graduate Student could touch it with his hand.
Then his bankruptcy attorney
tells him that he's a boxer supporter
and then starts to lecture Our Graduate Student
on the goodness of liberal politics
with special emphasis on the brown vs board of educ decision.
Now Our Graduate Student is just being polite
but it all seems kind of curious.
Where's the crowds of bankruptcy clients ?
Why a different building ?
Why the special treatment ?
Why did the attorney screw it up the first time ?
And HOW IN HELL could he have possibly screwed it up AGAIN !?
While they're talking, the Indian temporary judge guy
walks by REAL NERVOUS going "Shhhh! Shhhh!"
like he was real scared of somebody.
Maybe barbara boxer ?!

So then the attorney takes Our Graduate Student
over to a break area or lunch room or something
and tears off a scrap of paper
and dictates a statement for Our Graduate Student to write.
And when I say "a scrap of paper"
I don't mean a piece of paper.
Take a sheet of paper, an old, dirty piece of paper.
Now tear off about a half or third of it
or something like that.
Not neatly.
That's what the bankruptcy attorney gave Our Graduate Student
to write the statement he dictated to him.

To Our Graduate Student,
it all seemed pretty unprofessional and irregular,
but, after all, it was sacramento.
We weren't in New York City anymore !
He just figured he musta got a REALLY overworked attorney.
In fact, Our Graduate Student felt kinda sorry for him.
So they go home
and Our Graduate Student goes back to driving a truck
over the road.
After a while he calls up the attorney
to find out when the bankruptcy will be discharged
and he told him that everything was on schedule
and that it would be discharged in a week or so.
Meanwhile Our Graduate Student checks his mail
and it says he has another hearing in about three months.
It wasn't referring to the normal waiting period.
That was just about up.
That's what the attorney was talking about
when he said a week or two.
THAT was after the 90-day waiting period,
or whatever the waiting period was.
This court date in the letter was another three months or so.
So Our Graduate Student calls the attorney
and asks about it.
The attorney assures him that everything's fine, and says,
"They're alleging fraud, but it's nothing to worry about."

So, Our Graduate Student gets in his truck
and heads up Interstate 5 toward Oregon or Washington
and it keeps playing in his mind,
"They're alleging fraud, but it's nothing to worry about."
NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT !?
I don't think so.
I think it IS something to worry about.
FRAUD ?
Our Graduate Student didn't commit any fraud.
He'd been totally straight with both attorneys
AND with that temporary judge guy all along.
It wasn't right.
Something was wrong.
You had to think the unthinkable.
You'd made excuses for that attorney all along.
Sure he was busy, but no attorney could be THAT incompetent.
It wasn't incompetence.
Besides, look at how much of the attorney's time
his screwups were causing him.
If he was so busy, he would have made sure
that he got it right so he wouldn't have to keep coming back !
What was so hard about disclosing the personal injury suit
and listing the real estate in the right spot ?
He had assistants !
It was a setup !
He was being framed !
What the hell was all this about

SITTING OUTSIDE U.S. Senator barbara boxer's FUCKING DOOR !?

Last time it was in a different building !
There wasn't another bankruptcy petitioner within a thousand yards !

It was the unthinkable
but Our Graduate Student began to realize
that he had better start thinking it

BECAUSE IT WAS TRUE.

A U.S. Senator was trying to FRAME him !

He typed up a letter to his bankruptcy attorney
and emailed copies to The Sacramento Bee
and to some politicians he thought would know him
and maybe even that davis judge, Rosenberg.
He can't remember for sure who, but it's in the record.
He mailed a copy to the attorney and to the temporary judge
and maybe another one, maybe to boxer.

Guess what ?

Next time he checked his mail,
the bankruptcy had been completely discharged.
Nothin' like a little sunlight, huh ?

If you get it, congratulations.
Welcome to the world of reality and truth.

Now, at this point, if you don't get it,
then you're just a history-denier.
Just like the Holocost-deniers
and the evolution-deniers.

*******

But, enough.
My time draws near.
I have been told I am next in line for the capsule.

28 years ago there was an earthquake.
Our Graduate Students Newsletters of 1982
rumbled and roared The Truth.
Then came the avalanche.
limbaugh followed by 
D'Souza and Ravitch
and FOX.

For 28 years Our Graduate Student has been buried alive.
He has written you a note.
Read it and believe.

*******

I do not know what more to say right now.
Perhaps I have said too much,
perhaps not enough.
Perhaps I could have said it better.
Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.

For two and a half months,
while my Chilean brothers
remained buried deep in the Earth,
I have written My story.
It, too, is a thriller,
a story of hope and despair,
joy and sorrow,
doubt and vindication,
evil and good.

Some things, though hard to believe at first,
are nonetheless true.
Evolution, the fact that we evolved from energy and matter
over millions of years
from matter and the energy of the sun.
The holocaust, the fact that millions of Jews
were exterminated in concentration camps.
The Heliocentric fact of the Solar System,
the fact that the earth goes around the Sun,
once a forbidden belief,
a belief for which Galileo was threatened and imprisoned, too.
The liberal fascist conspiracy against Our Graduate Student
with the collaboration of conservative useful idiots.

It is late now,
and tomorrow I will try to make my closing statement.

Know this.
It is hard for me to believe, too,
but I know it is true.
I just hope I have been able to explain it well.

When I finished writing The Newsletters in 1982,
I threw away my extra copies.
I had no delusions of grandeur,
though I tried my best at various
clever and interesting literary techniques.
I was merely standing up against
obvious absurdity and extreme rudeness.
It is a study in human psychology, really,
to observe what happened.
Madness was all around me
and I merely spoke simple common sense truths.
For this I was considered mad.
Eventually, limbaugh, D'Souza and Ravitch
repeated and amplified what I had said,
"madness is all around."
For this they have been honored.

I never believed that what I did
was such a big deal.
Even when bella abzug came to sac state
shortly after I mentioned her name in My Newsletters,
I just thought it was mere coincidence.

As far as I was concerned,
by that summer,
it was all over and done with.
But a year or two later
when I attended sac city college,
I realized that I was quite well known there,
and disliked and even HATED by some.
"How small-minded," I thought.
I'd been through hurricanes in the sixties and seventies.
I was but a drizzle.
What was the big deal ?
But I've told you the story in this book.
For 28 years they've never forgotten.

And that's the key right there.
You see, they've proven that it was a big deal,
that My 1982 Newsletters had huge impact.
Otherwise, why not just leave me alone,
and let me move on and live ?
But a sacramento mayor,
high level education administrators,
a U.S. Senator,
and a host of others ?
I was on their radar screens ?
I was targeted in their sights ?
Why ?
They were acting like I was somebody who mattered.
They were proving it for me by their actions.
Sure, it seemed to me like limbaugh came out of nowhere
from being a sportscaster to being the mouthpiece
for my outraged arguments,
but the liberal fascist feminists drove it home
for 28 years.

I love Richard Dawkins, the evolutionist.
Of course, I love Ravitch and D'Souza
and Malcolm Gladwell and Robert Townsend
and John Naisbitt and Ed Koch
and some others whose writings
have given me comfort and inspiration and hope,
but Dawkins is dear to my heart
for he has taken upon the task
of arguing on behalf of the scientific fact of evolution.

I feel for him as he explains
with exasperation, befuddlement,
frustration, outrage, and mockery
the intransigience of the evolution-deniers,
the history-deniers.
It is truly a fascinating study
in the psychology of human beings
how they can hold to irrational myths
and conflicting beliefs
and obstinately ignore and deny the facts.
It has to do with the discomfort and pain
of the cognitive dissonance
and having their mythologies and worldviews
shown to be wrong.
It must be frightening for them.

I sort of have stage fright now.
My only talent is telling the truth.
What will it be like when I get onto the world stage
when it's my turn to ride up the capsule.

Will anyone be there ?
Will anyone greet me ?
Will anyone care ?
Will I be laughed at and called crazy ?
Will I be ignored ?
Will I be punished ? Again ?
Or is there a whole world and a new life waiting for me.

I'm alive. I'm alive. The truth is alive.


OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.

OK
Very Easily.
 
OK
Very Easily.
 
OK
Very Easily.