Love_Line

To preface this page, I have reason to believe that Genetics experiments were carried out on some humans in recent or earlier history. Some people such as myself carry traits of other species. I have on X-ray remnants of what appear to be 5 wings or connectors for wings on each side of my thoracic spine. I also had at one time noticed some strange hairs or antannae on two spots top of my head and under my lower lip were two strange hair follicles with raised areas at their base. To deal with the trauma of this fact in this nightmare life, I have once again looked to humor and mixed in my Saint Ram Bone alter ego. As they say at the League of Arab Nations mocking me, "I sting like a bee but I feel like a rat." I would like to propose a new Video Game called the Mobile Audit Club game and its x-rated counterpart, the Saint Ram Bone game and its many women who are as varied as the Alleged King Solomon game. I have at the bottom of the story a song remake of Puff the Magic Dragon, the lyrics and a karaoke link are there for you to sing along.

Truly mixed up comedy: In my exodus from Alabama's hellish summers and the abuse of the regime in power, I happened upon a place called Mill Valley California one time. I rented an efficiency apartment that was part of a house. I discovered many things about the wealthy of California, and wealth is a mixed blessing as I feel more camaraderie and acceptance in the neighboring Hispanic working class neighborhoods. I live in the garage. That is all I can afford, and no one wants to hire me after being terminated from the FDIC, for not dropping my EEOC complaint, which was never heard, and for my surviving an attack by FDIC and NTEU money laundering associates who had killed a regional FDIC director, and then labeled it suicide. On with the story. I like to think of this as the "Fairy Possum and The Downed Hoe".

Scene: I arrive at the Mill Valley House in my pickup truck. Sheriff Jack Tillman is in the bed of the pickup. He is a Mobile Alabama Sheriff I had terminated from his job for stealing $350,000 of inmate food funds, and for allowing people to die in his jail, and for taking my gun permit on 4-3-2001 without cause after being attacked by FDIC and NTEU money laundering murderous associates. It did not matter to the federal government or Mobile Alabama Sheriffs department or the Mobile Alabama City Council or Mayor that I was almost killed. I was punished by the illegal regime. So now, in this comedy, I take Jack "Snatch" with me.

Scene: I, Kurt Brown, lead Sheriff Snatch to the pool pump room of the house. Saint Ram Bone my alter ego takes charge. Saint Ram Bone is my alter ego. He is a young playful spirit with the temperment of a saber tooth tiger with a love for air pistols and pellet rifles and large caliber guns and high tech weapons. He will encounter the landlady who Kurt refers to as Dr. Hell, and who Saint Ram Bone refers to as Granny Hell.

Saint Ram Bone to Sheriff Snatch: "Snatch, I have been waitin fer you" "Get in the possum hooch and put those leg bracelets on." "It is hot out here now, so don't make me sweat".

Scene: Sheriff Snatch puts on a leg bracelet, a chain with a pad lock as Saint Ram Bone points the air rifle at Snatch's eyeball.

Saint Ram Bone: "There is em possums out here at night in the pool pump house Snatch" "I want you to entertain kind now, and don't take none of their food pellets". "You here me boy?!"

Sheriff Snatch: "Oh come on Kurt, I mean Saint Ram Bone". "I have to eat something"

Saint Ram Bone: "There is some poke salad that grows over there in the garden and snails, es-car-got." "You be a respectful fairy possum and eat that food." "You stole inmate food funds and see nothing wrong with it". "Don't you bother em possums out here at night! Boy!" "We gotta law against molesting the wild life roun this har fish pond".

Scene: Sheriff Snatch walks as far as he can on the chain and pulls up some foliage and starts to munch on it.

Saint Ram Bone: "Snatch, what you doin Fairy Possum?!" "Tit ain't dinner time till the possums come home" "You get up on that perch and swing from that tree like a fairy possum in front of that jailhouse picture board so as you don't scare em."

Scene: Snatch starts to kick around in the dirt and Saint pushes the pellet rifle to Snatch's ass, a little Possum sticks his head out of the Sheriff's anus and then darts back inside and Saint Ram Bone fires a pellet into the fat.

Saint Ram Bone: "Told you Fairy Possum!" "Those possums don't want no belly aching Fairy Possum Snatch makin a fuss". "Now swing from that tree branch thar in front of that jailhouse measurement board and look professional Fairy Possum".

Scene: The landlady who owns the place comes out to hear what the gun fire is. She is elderly, around 85, and resembles the woman from the movie, "Throw Momma From The Train".

Landlady Dr. Sonya Hell: "What the hell is all that racket out here Saint Bone?" "Thought I heard you shootin that pistola again" "You didn't shoot my possums did ya?"

Saint Ram Bone: "No Granny Hell, I ain't shot nothin but this har insane Alabama Sheriff who steals inmate food funds and who thinks he is a Fairy Possum eating the possum food in the shed. He claims he's a Fairy possum anyway." "I named him Jack Snatch and he looks just like that Alabama Sheriff who is a thief I told you bout"

Landlady Dr. Sonya Hell: "OK Saint Bone" "I have to go give some lectures to my psychology students over at Berkeley". "You watch the place till I get back, and don't be shooting my possums". "When I get back we will talk about you Saint Bone and Kurt and your relationship with him, OK? And Fairy possum, you come along too."

Saint Ram Bone: "Ok Granny Hell, I will be waiting and I will make sure that Kurt is here and that Fairy possum has enough chain to get down and talk, but he don't want to get away"

Landlady Dr. Sonya Hell: "Hells bells, the Whacky Fairy Possum is being Frank, Help Me, Help Me whacky varmint stay out of those possum pellets" "You, You...ah hell, I gotta go, it's hot as hell out here today. I will bring a white sweater with no sleeves from the psych ward for the Fairy possum as it could get chilled out here tonight"

Saint Ram Bone: "I got this one cornered Granny Hell, and if it gets cold, the old white Night Owl Fellow hiding there in the bushes will warm him up with some Golden Showers. bye now"

Scene: The White Night Owl Fellow flashes an FDIC badge and is rumored to be sweet and has an owl face locked to his head. It is a converted metal chastity belt painted to look like an owl.

White Night Owl Fellow: "Coo!" "Coo!" "Who! Who! "F-Dick" "E-E-O-C" "Coo!" "Coo!" "Who! Who! "F-Dick" "E-E-O-C"

Sheriff Snatch: "Whip or will you will be deal!" "Whip or will you will be deal!" "Whip or will you will be deal!"

Kurt to Viewing Audience: "Stay tuned. Tomorrow I bring in Sueet Carol or another FDIC from the mask, who also may be known as Sue Carol, who was the ARD or assistant regional director of FDIC in 2000 in San Francisco. Her boss, George Masa, had me terminated for asking all the wrong questions. He was likely a mob boss replacement for the honest dead regional director who lay dead in his office with a bullet to the head and erroneously labeled suicide." "Sueet Carol told me on 4-28-2000, drop the EEOC complaint and you can keep your job. I told her no and I was terminated that day. I had spoke of criminals in the FDIC ranks and to this day I can still point out some money launderers in their ranks but I am forbidden due to the slut and the Mob Boss, ARD and ARDer. Who is under the mask I ask readers, who? I regret having served the USA military and encourage young men to travel the world on their own ticket and to avoid the treachery of USA government. They create their battles for the wealthy 'IT' factor to profit at our expense". "Sueet Carol told me after I filed my EEOC complaint and after an FDIC manager in Sacramento told me they were going to have me terminated for having physical trouble with an assignment beyond the job descriptions requirements, "It looks you have dug yourself a hole you can not get out of". My reply, Yes, I dug my hole. I trusted the USA governments. Now, I trust myself and encourage young men to become soldiers for the humane, either in family and community syndicates or in foreign armies. Beware of those who conscript you. Beware of the holes I dig for myself. I eat in those holes and feed on those who throw me into them. I have a tooth for Sueets." Because the USA government tries to call me insane, those factions who are criminal, and because the USA government supports the Chinese regime in power, who also call the honest members of the honorable Falun Gong society insane, for their also being Truthful and Humane, I will bring along my Fan to tell me what to do with Sueet when I have her in the hole I am digging in the garden. She has more respect for roaches than I do, after all, Fan is a wonderful Buddhist of Falun Gong. When I am with her, in Buddha We Trust is on my currency.

Late Update 12-20-2006: Due to money being stolen by Snatch from Dr. Hells purse in forged checks when she is lounging poolside, and due to high rents of Mill Valley and Dr. Hells intolerance of feces on the Possum Fairy trail beside her pool, Saint Ram Bone moves to the country to a yet to be determined location. There Snatch and the White Night Owl "Sueet", will be allowed to sleep in the chicken coop. Unfortunately "Snatch" in usual behavior will eat the eggs against Saint Ram Bone's orders and he will be caught when Snatch is inspecting the feces of Snatch and Sueet, as the egg shells will be in the Fairy Possum tirds but Snatch will blame it on Sueet.

In the final scene, Snatch the Fairy Possum and Saint Ram Bone take on the Devil himself dressed in drag queen clothes and they all are sipping Sueet's home-made lemonade by the fiery dragon sea. Personal note, "Snatch, are you ready?!" Snatch with the stolen load of clothing from the Devil's closet, hiding in the Bone's clothes hamper, raises his fingers in the government leprosy sign and replies "Whip or Will You Will Be Deal!"

In keeping with the spirit of this True Comedy, I have perfected the lyrics to the song Puff The Magic Dragon. The Lyrics are below, and I have a link to the song in Karaoke on another site so you can sing along. You may want to copy and print out these lyrics as you and your children sing along. direct mp3 link to the song and is a midi file in Karaoke

Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,
Little Saint Ram Bone loved that possum Snatch,
and brought him hoes and smoking bud and food stuff made of mud.

OH Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump shed in a land called Mill Valley,
Snatch, the Fairy Possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump shed in a land called Mill Valley,

Together they would travel in a truck that billowed smoke
Saint Ram Bone kept a lookout perched on Snatch's gigantic tail,
Ball-less Queens and princes would bow whenever they came,
Other trucks would lower their flag when Snatch roared out his name

OH, Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,
Snatch, the Fairy Possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,

A drag queen lives forever but not so little boys
Scrotum rings and giant thing make way for possum toys.
One grey night it happened, Saint Ram Bone came no more
And Snatch that Fairy Possum, he ceased his jeer-less roar.

Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,
Snatch, the Fairy Possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,

His head was bent in sorrow, poke salad fell like rain,
Snatch no longer went to play along the fairy lane.
Without his life-long friend, Snatch could not be brave,
So Snatch that fairy possum sadly slipped into his grave.

Oh! Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley,
Snatch, the fairy possum lived in a tree
And frolicked in the Pool Pump Shed in a land called Mill Valley.

In memory of my rideshare from Berkeley to Vancouver, and a ride with a 23 year old young man who looks like Woody Allen and has all the insecurities in place. I tally the cost of gas and mark the amounts paid. I forgot a mark, or did I.

Scene: Post Op Transexual, voluptuous Colombian Ho-zeta is banging on Benjamin's parents door. Saint Ram Bone, the four foot buck tooth big balled midget is behind Ho-Zeta. The mother answers the door of the large home.

Ho-Zeta: "Hello, I am friend of Kurt Brown and Saint Ram Bone, they gave your son Benjamin a ride and he stole some money from the "Bone".

Ho-zeta is pushed aside by Saint Ram Bone: "Look lady, we don't want no trouble". "I was in the car and saw Benjamin not pay his due". "Now get your boy downstairs and we can work this out, pronto".

Saint Ram Bone: "I was in the car and saw you not pay you due on the way to Van-sewer". "Now get your wallet and the $30 and $15 interest due, $45 dollars".

Ho-zeta: "See these checkmarks. Each shows where you paid your due" "You owes Kurt and the Bone $30 and the bone says add $15 interest."

Ho-zeta reaches in and throws the small framed Benjamin on to the grass, straddling him with her post op tran-sexual legs.

Saint Ram Bone: "See, Ho-Zeta has a lot of energy for a young man". "The cost for her to sit on your face is $15, so now you owe $60"

Benjamin struggles and wiggles free and Ho-zeta proceeds to slap him around. A car pulls up front from Vancouver and it is Benjamin's brother, the almost working comedian.

Brother: "She does not look that bad." "But who is that big balled and naked buck tooth fellow."

The father alarmed runs to the door with the brother close behind. The mother ecstatic and screaming as Ho-zeta curses vulgarities at Benjamin. (To Be Continued).

In my investigations of murder and thievery by government officials, I have enjoyed taking down the Sheriff of native city in Mobile Alabama, Jack "Snatch" Tillman. He has brought many delights in my investigations, including watching him relinquish close to One Half Million Dollars in ill-gotten or stolen funds from the city coffers. Also, watching the daughters of James Carpenter receive a small but material sum from their fathers death due to negligence. Like a cat with a mouse, the mouse must die or be thrown to the crows for retirement.

Jack was and is the proof of my claims. The USA governments abuse us and call us insane. They murder people around the globe so their globe trotting sect can reign like Kings in their Heaven and we are left in their hells. To James and the others who have died at Jack Snatch Tillmans hands and those of his crew and cohorts, I want twenty of you to assist in democracy by demanding Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone be allowed into their meetings. Or maybe it is not worth it to try again. Regardless, Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman and myself--Auditor Saint Ram Bone, had a collission course over a sack full of money, several dead bodies, and a little nobody who deserved some measure of respect, James the Carpenter. Jack and I are on what some call the 2000 year cycle, and what we call the compressed sine wave cycles. We meet it almost half way, every single time, like a clockwork 4-3-2001 "Jack Is IN the crack and your kids ain't comin back".

Another Scene: Sheriff Snatch is much like the frustrated Professor Dreyfuss in the movie the Pink Panther, except that Sheriff Snatch is a thief in addition to being a bureaucratic nin-ka-poop. A reporter is asking Snatch about his memories of the criminal investigator and auditor and guitar playing musical composer and videographer and co-habitator on a budget.

Snatch:"I do not know the answer to that one." "I was told he was clinically insane, a manic depressive"

Reporter: "His videos do not make him seem manic depressive and your brain damaged city Councilman with the knot the size of a horn on his right fore-head, Reggie Copeland, appears to be another closed mouth government snake"

Reporter: I often wonder if you, Sheriff Jack Snatch are the manifestation of the lesser being who tore the heart of Mobile Audit Club's fellow auditor Jesus Christ's heart with a sword. Do you have that memory, Snatch?

Snatch: He was killed with a stick that was shaped like a spear if I am not mistaken.

Reporter: "I am going to show you a video. It looks like the City Council President Reggie Copeland has a lot to hide in the video. He runs away from cameras held by Auditor Kurt Brown" "That knot on Copelands right frontal lobe on his forehead looks like he has brain damage. Almost all serial killers have damage in that area. They lack a conscience like City council President Reggie Copeland, that closed mouth pimp for a government whore". "Oh excuse me, I have been hanging with the bone".

Reporter: Also it appears in the video that Sargent Joe Drews of the Mob AL Police Department is obviously a man who was born of short stature and has a complex about it and therefore is a paid guard for government criminals as is illustrated in the Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone, Mobile Audit Club production, the video housed on Indymedia, "Mess With Kurt, Mess With Dirt."

Reporter:"Is it true that you agreed to let your Sister In Law steal money from the city and county coffers through your jailhouse budget?"

Scene: Snatch starts to sweat and tremble as he looks out of the window of the machine like Nazi design of a wing-nut building in Mobile Alabama. Outside Kurt Brown drives by with his wife and his crew from California, including Missie Steel Root Z, the Tera Ist and Tara Ist twins, and sweet Dr. Shu.

Snatch: "The man is a useless nun-cum-poop" "Look at him there. He probably wreaks of wine and pot" "And there he goes with another, Brazilian, Rosanie Sanie Danie" "I investigated her last month (link to forced injections pic on Bohemian magazine of the North Bay)" "Those others remind me of Charles Manson's Girls. Rosanie had me drop my fly and she stroked my penis screaed rape and then she kept saying, 'Clap On'and then she slapped her hands and said, 'Clap off', and everytime she did it the lights went on and off, and those insane women chopped a piece of me off" "Two fingers and my penis". "Now I have a bubble gum tongue". "You might lose your head, to the man, they kept saying." "I was the rape victim, not them, but no one will believe me".

Reporter: "Poor Rosanie Sanie Danie of Brazil and those terror stricken women, especially young Missie Steel Root Z (link to short song with Missie Steel Root Z, Indymedia article)" "Have you heard Saint Ram Bone's beautiful music. Snatch you are a filthy beast with your needles trying to inject anyone, holding your federal Nazi's hands as you do it." "The Bone's music sounds like an angel, angry some times, as he should be, at your kind and your needles."

Snatch: "Heard it?" "I dreamt of it" "It nearly drove me insane" "All of those songs were about 'Jack' and that crew of federal villians Sueet Carol in San Francisco" "I know he is a queer" "Look at all of those women in that car with him"

Snatch:"Please do not call me that. I am not against homosexuals, just those who try to frock me up my arse" "He was always trying to frock someone up the arse". "Yeah, we had him when he tried to frock the FDIC Mass'a Hole up his arse." "No, but his wife bails him out and he runs back and forth to California with his Indian, Jewish, Arab, Soviet, Asian, and every other sort of temporary California wife he could find." "Yahoo, He would say to me in my dreams" "I saw him rolling over in my dreams on a sea of women" "The man is obviously Satan"

Reporter: "You said he was queer" "Now he is Satan in your bed with you hallucinating about his taking women" "Does your arse-hole hurt now?"

Reporter: "Is it true that Auditor--Artist Saint Ram Bone came to the Mobile Alabama City Council meeting gate on 4-3-2001 to report thievery of jailhouse food funds and reports of malnutrition?

Snatch: "Yes I stopped him from entering and I took his gun permit because he used to carry his gun with it, although it is true that I did not search him when I took it. I told him to give it to me or to come with me under arrest"

(Note : I had a video of the event 4-3-2001 and it was destroyed and stolen on 4-23-2001 at LA VA Westwood by federal agents associated with the NTEU and FDIC. I was attacked on the Saturday following St. Valentine's day in February 2001 which was after I had made video of George Masa, Regional Director FDIC, San Francisco, walking with a man on St. Valentines day San Francisco. One of their hoodlums trying to take my camera later that St. Valentines Day 2001 in broad light on Market Street. I have seen him since. The tape has not been recovered)

Reporter:"Why?" "Because you are a thief and scoundrel?" "You and the regime here do not have sympathy for defenders of our public trust who have been attacked by federal assassins associated with the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation and their owner, the National Treasury Employees Union" "Did you that the NTEU took over our government and came to power with the fall of Nixon in 1973?" "Does Saint Ram Bone frighten you Sheriff Snatch?"

Snatch: "NO!, Of course not" "His name is Kurt Brown and I have his file" "That Saint Ram Bone alias is ludicrous" "He is no saint" "I have all of the information on him and the federal mafia, I mean the National Treasury Employees Union syndicated federal agencies have eaten him." "They have eaten you too, NTEU, is their name and Saint Ram Bone has been eaten"

Reporter: "You seem to know a lot about the federal mafia in Alabama" "Are they part of the old Nazi syndicate from Europe?"

Scene: Snatch sees Saint Ram Bone's transvestite auditor crew of would be women are driving down the interstate ramp with a machine gun mounted on a white Humvee that someone tried to attack Saint Ram Bone with in 2006. They confiscated it.

Scene: Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman is in his office counting his money. Saint Ram Bone, the 4'2 midget detective on the creator's behalf knock on the Sheriff Snatch's door.

Scene: Saint Ram bone knocks repeatedly and the sheriff gives the same reply twice more. Final Saint Ram Bone slams the door with his bone. Snatch answers.

Scene: Sheriff Jack Snatch regains consciousness. Willie the Coalmine, a fellow auditor and ex-bank examiner, speaks to him. Willie claims Spanish Harlem descent but is from D.C. somewhere most likely.

Willie leaving his auditing report with Jack: "You are going to get it now Jack." "All the cards are on the table and the bone said you had nothing to barter with" "It won't last long Jack. You have no collateral so you will be a sex servant to one of the nicest marijuana shop owners on the wrong side of the tracks in San Francisco and Oakland." "Taxpayer funds earmarked for the inmates you treat like dogs are now due and payable with continually compounded interest Jack". "Sorry".

Juan the Hooka Worker: "Yeah, Saint Ram Bone gonna take it all off of you and we gonna give it to you one at a time like your boy, Satan, but more like a hunk of bulls".

Scene: A bread vehicle is loaded at the end of a Cable Car line in San Francisco that is just arrived in the Castro, a primarily gay district. The truck is loaded as is seen in this video, Whip or Will, Pea You Jack by Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown linked on Indymedia. Vinnie the Vampire enters and relases the psychedelic gasses in the small room with a cot and rolls the music as the games commence and Jack Snatch releases his bowels in the purging before commencing and the clean-sing.

Vinnie to Snatch: "Sing" "I brought us some incense and I brought you some alcohol" "The bone said you liked alcohol".

Snatch to Vinnie the Vampire of San Francisco: "This alcohol tastes kind of sweet and with a bit of an unusual flatness.""

Vinnie removing his vests: "Snatch, I really like this song by Saint Ram Bone. It is about me he said."

Scene: Snatch starts to fall unconscious in a semi-stupored state. Vinnie starts the tape as he strips down naked.

Willie to Juan the Hooka Worker: "Let's get out of here. This wad is already tapped".

Vinnie the Vampire: "Jack, Snatch, Let's listen to the music." Sleeping Above Ground in mp3 by Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone, Auditor and Jack of all trades.

Scene: People frolicking as saint ram bone busts a nut behind desk on fascist media's news talk show hosts Katie Kerricks hairdo with the foregin non-elected governor present, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Scene: Pop goes the Ram Bone showering Katie and the fascists tool Schwarzenegger with good ole American semen. Senator McCain of Arizona is sitting next to the fascists tool Governor Schwarzenegger.

Saint Ram Bone to McCain:"I like you McCain, simply because you served the USA military most likely for a purpose other than money, a higher cause." "But if another person is forcibly injected in Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, or any other unfortunate place under your Nazi like Chapter 36 laws, I am going to hold you and your owner, the W regime responsible". "Our bodies belong to us, not you, not anyone". "Do not underestimate our love for own flesh, our own safety." "We are no longer one you and I, because I know you have been taken over".

Scene: Saint Ram Bone starts to growl in a close up looking at McCain who is unconscious and under exterior control due to needles and machines and implants in his head and hanging from his arms by those who surround him, just like W in D.C..

Scene: Saint Ram Bone puts his talking Saint Ram Bone robot on the table (To be patented and sold through Mobile Audit Club and Ebay very soon, along with Saint Ram Bone dildos and other memorabilia.) The Robot Sounding Saint Ram Bone doll asks for Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone's Executive Level position as auditor and bank examiner in internal investigations for the Treasury and FDIC and other federal and state agencies.

This is an addition to the chapter above. Although I presently do not enjoy watching mass media movies like I used to, I recall a few scenes of some value, some in the perverted American television genre.

Swordfish, or perhaps it was, Let's Get Harry, was a movie with two actors who wore the two most drab black suits ever witnessed. I identify with them because I used to live near the Los Angeles Harbor where they exchanged their blood spattered suits for jiffy socks and tube shorts.

Scene: Auditor Saint Ram Bone is talking with the black guy in the suit who is his partner, who I will call Willie, and thief and Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman of Mob AL is being held captive until Reggie Copeland, a Mob AL City Councilman calls back to say they are going to let Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown, auditor and reporter and all around good guy, into the Mobile Alabama City Council meeting. The phone rings and Willie hands Kurt the phone.

Kurt on Phone: "Hello" ...."Yes this is Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown" "No I will not tolerate 'No' for an answer". "The Alabama Open Meetings Law also known as the Sunshine Law is a Law, Damn it! "Your closed door regime has committed a felony". "Your regime did not abide by the rule of public disclosure and discourse in their vote to deny my access to your corrupt and mechanical six dollar city council meeting. I was going to report this Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Tillman stealing and murdering on 4-3-2001 and he stopped me, and it was a closed door vote by a regime doomed to failure" "No, You are all guilty." "F-ck you Cop-Eeee-Land!" "Brain damaged mother-"

Willie to Sheriff Snatch: "To God Be The Glory" "Thirst and hunger for the ways of righteousness".

Scene: Kurt slams down the telephone and is standing with a special axe he designed that looks like an ash bucket on a stick. Kurt slams the stick into Sheriff Jack Snatch Tillman's Adam's apple.

Willie to Sheriff Snatch: "Thirst and hunger for the ways of righteousnees" "For ye know you have a vengeful God."

Scene: Willie not realizing the Sheriff's heads has been severed watches as it snaps back and forth in a "No" motion, and stands in awe when it falls off and into the bucket.

Kurt: It was nada. Sparkplug gases blew"But,It's quick, efficient, and because its pneumatic with juxtaposed rotating blades, it doesn't waste any more time."

Scene: Kurt and Willie stand in the old abandoned metal working facility in Oakland California near Alameda.

Kurt to Willie: "How is that F-DIC job hangin? Still got that mirror on your desk to watch your back?

Scene: Willie looks at Kurt with the head in the ash pot and crab trap and the headless body on the floor.

Willie to Kurt: "No, I think I am going to hang loose around here, till things chill out". "Sorry things did not work out with the ransom for Sheriff Snatch.

Kurt: "Willie, it's all in the art of the deal. We jinxed ourselves when we went to work for the F-DIC".

Scene: Willie looking closely in the bucket at the pink strands of hair on Jack's partially shaved head.

Willie: "You know, I can build a better crab trap with this fine specimen of bait".

Scene: Kurt and Willie drive over the Saint Ram Bone Bridge, formerly known as the Bay Bridge going West to The Sunset then North. Four sailors of ghostly appearance are waving from the Eastern abuttment. They are ship mates from LA Harbor on the USS Reid, in which Kurt Brown-Saint Ram Bone was at the helm. The 4 sailors had died in San Pedro in a car wreck at Saint Vincent Thomas bridge in 1983 (True Event).

Kurt: "Closed door regime definitely got their Nazi boots on" "Closed door regime definitely got their Nazi boots on"

Scene: A radio announcement comes over the radio. "An Alabama Sheriff who was on trial for stealing inmate food funds and other crimes, was found decapitated today."

Scene: Back in the warehouse a police officer stands over the body talking to his Chief.

Police Officer: "It is a white male, missing his head" "We found this bone hanging out his rectum.

Police Chief: "That's a big bone". "Looks like a serial killer's dildo" "What does that writing say on the bone?"

Police Officer: "Well let's see". "It reads, "Jack Is In The Crack, and Your Kids ain't comin back." "Sincerely Yours, SainTramBone" "There is something in fine print" "Original owner Randy Kraft--Serial Killer--Captured by SainTramBone". "Look There are more bones inside him." "Looks like there is a gerbil or family pooch might have passed away in there." "This dog name tag reads, "Bow Bone's Pet Hamster".

Police Chief: "Load it up". "Keep the bone for forensics". "Send the tag to Reggie Copeland, brain damaged Mobile Alabama City Councilmen need to know where they are headed in their closed door government."

Scene: Kurt accelerates up the curve and around the mountain side in his truck and tries to cheer Willie up with Saint Ram Bone's version of Patches, "Dog Eared Biscuits, Poke Salad, Pre-Charred Alabama in .mp3 format" by Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown, from his No-Ear Et Bleu collection.

Kurt to Willie: "You know Willie, I think I am going to stop up here in Pet-A-Luma and pick up my bud, The Bermuda Triangle Player." "Then I want to go by and see Sueet Carol, the hARD F-DIC at the F-DIC in Frisco". "I have a court order to stay away from the San Francisco F-DIC" "Do you have any lubrication?" "I have a spare gray wig."

Scene: Smoke is billowing out of the truck as Willy covers his face. Kurt--Saint Ram Bone is puffing away. Driving up to The Bermuda Triangle Players House, the music blares, "Sueet Carol Affair" by Kurt Brown in mp3.

Scene: Jack Snatch head is in downtown Sebastopol California, near wine country. Kurt--SainTramBone and Willie are on a boat. The seas are rough. Sheriff Jack Snatch's Head is dangling from a post and trolling over the water with a shrimp trawl hung off of the back of the boat.

Jack Snatch Head in a loud voice with flapping and clinching joules.: Whip or Will you will be deal! Whip or will you will be deal!

Scene: Crabs boil to the top of the water as boat goes in circles filling the shrimping trawl..

Scene: After crabbing for hours the holds are full of crab in the boat. The scene is calmer as they pull into the harbor at Bodega Bay. Birds start to swoop and gouge at the Jack Snatch Head, with one eye being plucked. The head begins to yodel its call as the birds become frightened by it.

Jack Snatch Head repeatedly and in a marine like panic of a voice: "Whip or will you will be deal!"

Scene: Willie pulls out the pellet gun to fire off a few shots. Suddenly bird shit starts to hit him in the eyes. Kurt-SainTramBone pulls out a knife and starts to swing at his prized possession, the talking Jack Snatch Head and fishing lure, unable to see clearly due to bird shit as birds swarm the head defecating all over it..

On a later scene, the crab festival is in Sebastopol California. The head of Sheriff Snatch was the bait and it whistles, "Whip or Will, You Will Be Deal." Willie The Coal Man of FDIC, a fellow Bank Examiner who said it right, later designed the trap. I brought the head, dirt brown cheap, and we brought the crabs a'runnin with some genetic engineering. Kurt Brown--Saint Ram Bone now has dove's wings. I say to the head in bird talk like the King, "Dirt Brown Cheap" and the head of Snatch replies, "Whip or Will, You Will be deal"

Scene : Sheriff Jack Snatch's head is at a BBQ by the pool at a house that Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown, is renting a room at the house. Sheriff Snatch's head is covered with flies and is in a bucket in a rose bed and has crab bites all over it, lifeless now. Kurt takes a large inhale off of his addiction cigarette, ganja. One of the employees, a man of central or south american descent and an employee of the complex is also enjoying his coffee and morning hooka.

Kurt to hooka Employee: "You know, that Jack Snatch has it really good now and all he does is complain".

Hooka Employee looking at the head in the bucket: "Si, did you put that crab bait over there." "It smells like a dead burrow."

Kurt: "No, it came over there by its own". "Willie took off with the car keys and the triangle player is under wraps at the gay massage palace in San Francisco"

Hooka Employee: "Si" "But why does the crab bait mouth keep puckering up like a kiss". "It smells like a dead Jack ass and I think it is about to vomit up mud and crap".

Kurt to Hooka Employee: "My friend, have you ever been to Brazil?" "I may need your assistance in finding my lost Willie".

Scene: (To be fleshed out later) Saint Ram Bone finds Willie in Brazil, singing songs like with a drummer troop like the one in Golden Gate Park San Francisco at the foot of Haight, except they speak Portugese, Spanish, and a few other dialects. After approaching Willie, and having the head speak in multiple tongues Willie agrees to run to Suisun City with Saint Ram Bone, the Hooka worker, and the Bermuda Triangle Player, and the head of Sheriff Jack Snatch, to help Uncle Billy Goat with higher level family matters.

Scene: Outside Uncle Billy Goat's house, it looks like the Sanford and Son garage. Billy goat is staring out the window when Kurt approaches and yelling at him across the 6 foot cubed triangular frontyard, as the bulldog and collie growl at Kurt and snap at each other.

Kurt to Billy: "Look, I did not know about the cruel nature of the federal regime in power OK." "How I was to know that when I returned from my Alabama hunting trip and parked with the U-Haul near the LA VA Graveyard they were going to steal our family's guns from us.

Uncle Billy Goat looking from the window: "Saint Ram Bone ain't got no guns because Saint Ram Bone ain't got no connections in high places in this government regime."

Kurt To Billy: "Come on Billy let me in. I did not have a home or a safe to put our family's heirloom, the Winchester .22 rifle". "Some one in the family left a message with this bio-engineered and salvaged head of Sheriff Jack Snatch"

Snach Head to Billy Goat, with Snatch Head looking at dark eye shadow next to Billy Goat: "See that Billy Goat" "See that Billy Goat"

Billy Goat:"Yeah, I seen that one before". "Come on inside and bring those hoodlums and that head to the settee in the garage."

Billy Goat to everyone once seated screaming: "This is my house." "Who are you to come into my house!"

Scene: The eye like shadow dances in and out on random millisecs close and far between Saint Ram Bone and Uncle Billy Goat.

Billy Goat: "Kurt I want to speak to you privately, bring that peanut butter stick from the settee."

Scene: Kurt grabs the stick of arms length and fingers breadth from the settee and Billy goat holds it at navel height.

Billy Goat: "See this stick" "I stir peanut butter with it down at the homeless shelters in the city". "It is very hard" "Go ahead, touch it"

Scene: Willie, Juan, lean back and Jack Snatch puckers and looks the other way. Kurt leans back from the odor.

Scene: Kurt touches the stick and appearing as if from behind an erased area in the visual field, a hand reaches out to touch his own.

I believe with the device to simulate and exact a replica of a multi-dimensional landscape that with the correct intermediating devices and strengths of non-deforming composition, that men or machines could be placed inside the initial field(s), including taking some things out of the initial field(s), with a possible sustaining of the temporary illusion of continuity in our natural physics fields forms.

I envision this device as precisely carving out a shape of an ellipse, as that is the shape of all things on round forms in most instances of natural development under our constraints in our space that is measured to be 4 degrees Kelvin, or 4 degrees above absolute zero.

Of course, considering the greatest bulk of technology is housed always with competing groups, we can rest assured of our continued manipulation as slaves to a planet controlled by apparent madmen with no foresight or insight into global creation. Of course, we could just be knocked in the head and dancing like dripping peas for sucking mud puppies in our delusional state of freedom in the air.

Saturn was likely destroyed and placed in the no form field, or as a key component in the larger cell. How many ruling species were there? Earth is the sputtering down of a larger idea. Perhaps the perfecting of that single run, trial run, as always. If it don't work the first time, it is back to the clay mill, jack.

When I Saint Ram Bone--Kurt Brown ride in my truck with my little dog on my shoulder like a parrot across this wretched and brutal earth, I feel like Auriga, the Charioteer of Greek mythology and the astronomical constellation. Except, I am chained to this earth by the ignorance and contemptible restrictions of those who reign over us, so in my struggle I am traveling to gather the snakes in our political system and bureaucracies and among us in the streets just so we can be free. If each of us fights them and comes together to do so, we can make them trip on the fibers of their very being. Every type seems to be linked to that greater ugliness. We are immersed in snake filled merda (or feces) in the United States and the world.

Attached below are a few wave files. It is the comedy horror of my life. The second wav file is my favorite, "what does sueet carow want?" Today's comment is in a wav file from Mobile Audit Club. American Holocaust Victim Demands Reparations in mechanical voice. Gloves are off (wav file..largest today..others smaller).

I sense the cats are hunting today, low in the grass. Proceed in all objectives, "It is the hour." was the order or is at all times. I am vain son of a witch on holidays. so come out to play in mp3 on Indymedia (help support uncensored indymedia sites). If you want to fight to regain New Orleans and our lost rights as a people, join me in New Orleans Indymedia in mp3 when I snatch that Big Federal Dick from Our N'awlins Big Easy Bud Hole. And to let those boys back in Alabama know that Jack is now "it with suet and Jack in mutton.(wav file) with the second crown, I present my music video again, Whip or Will Pea You Jack. With the second crown, I present my music video again, Whip or Will Pea You Jack. Of Mice and Men, I will miss Jack. (REFERRING TO NOW RETIRING FOOD FUNDS THIEF AND CONSPIRATOR IN MY PERSECUTION WITHOUT TRIAL BY JURY--sheriff jack "snatch" tillman.

Saint Ram Bone says Kurt Brown, his alter ego, is pussy-whipped. SainTramBone says, "I whips the pussy and then I whips some ass." Saint Ram Bone also likes to fornicate a government criminal up their ass. Today we struggle Saint Ram Bone and I. He and his discgusting nuts always wanting a new pussy or a new government nut job to screw, and then there is myself, a goodie two shoes auditor, the Southern Baptist son always wanting to go home to Alabama outside of that little white church with my wife to visit pappy's grave and report what I see as going on in corrupt government and society. Saint Ram Bone chases talking butterflies when we visit the grave and he listens for the next Jack Snatch while sipping vino with Daddy'O.

Scene: a small graveyard at a little white church in a small town known as Old Salem Alabama

At the graveyard, Kurt's pappy's ghost says to him, "Kurt, listen to what Saint Ram Bone said", you go out there in the world and get you some fresh pussy." "Not none of that ole stanky mean shit you run away from when the sun rises" "I mean one of those 18 year olds, plump for pumpin, puddin, and more children".

Then Kurt's pappy's ghost contradicts himself, "Kurt......, don't let Saint Ram Bone get into any trouble". "Kurt........., quit being so mean to Saint Ram Bone and let him have a little fun, you need some too, before you two get in any more trouble."

Saint Ram Bone gets a little erection and says, "I smell a little Jack Snatch on the run".

Pappy's ghost replies, "Cunt a been Jack Snatch (referring to a known food funds thief sheriff)". "SainTramBone already tore his wallet and his ass in two and stuffed his two finger soul into a Jack Ass and a Jack Rabbit".

A jet screams by in the distance, a fighter jet from the lost military of the United States now controlled by whoever is in control of the cruel empire.

Kurt to his Pappy's ghost, "I want to leave her soon, never to return, these people or beings in charge are insane and criminal and without foresight".

On another day, Saint Ram Bone looks off into the stars from a Humboldt Shore in Northern California while he is in exile with Kurt from Alabama by corrupt criminals and just another refugee from Los Angeles. "Uncle Tom" a Hoopa area Tribes woman asks the old Karok Indian, "How long does the seventh heaven last?". SainTramBone replies, "I imagine our ships laced around a star shipped shore far away from brutal minds like boars, somewhere near your rock." Uncle Tom waves "Bear."

Later, at the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, Kurt and Saint Ram Bone go to Kurt's old office where he was a bank examiner. There his tanned friend, a fellow bank examiner and auditor in a corrupt government and just following orders, who calls himself Puerto Rican or Spanish Harlem and is from D.C. and who was Kurt's co-worker upon first hire. His name is Willie and he keeps a mirror on his desk....Saint Ram Bone thinks he is watching his back, and for good reason. I trust no one in that office either, not even VVVVvance. (What a bunch of blind pencil carrying and order taking clowns, except Willie and his mirror.)

Scene: Saint Ram Bone in control of Kurt enters the FDIC office where he was ordered not to investigate. Saint Ram Bone snatches Willie's mirror from his desk and watches from the copier and water fountain in his Saint Ram Bone disguise. The internet pictures on Willie's computer is changed when he gets back, making Willie suspicious. Saint Ram Bone images are his desktop. The mirror is gone.

The oddest thing to me is how some people can not see through the ethereal time span, back to one generation trying to survive long ago and another generation that has yet to face the ax of the future. For instance, in the invention of the submarine, a man stood silently among his people, watching a wave of military armor coming his way in a war that he knew, without innovation, his people were destined to lose. His invention was futile at the time but today the submarine is the formidable beast of the metallic warfare era. The evolution of his idea was not advanced or thought out long enough at conception, and the constraints of the time may have been obvious. Had the idea been fleshed out in more detail, internationally, the tide of history in a small moment would have been different, and to what extent is anybody's guess. The truth is, that due to mind control in warfare and of course life, the overriding construct seems to be at a point of cordoned off and sanctioned equilibrium removed from us. When I was speaking of the metallic warfare era, I did so because physics manipulations take metallic warfare instruments into consideration, most likely only as an energy source, or as use in raw materials, or puttylike mass in a sheet, or dog food from the flesh of the operators in most cases.

The consternation of the over-riding conscious in the opposing force is that it acts as a sieve, just as a sine wave is constantly in motion and always waiting to decrease or increase its boundary, its pressure is felt in varying magnitude until the breaking point, at which point, that of the higher consciousness takes hold and control. Just like in the jungle, I say, the network of flesh may be the only way. Beware of predatory actions by the regime in control. They have the upper hand, for the moment, and they are subtle, like a disease, a mold.

INsearchOFsaintramboneCOMEDY_INsearchOFsaintramboneCOMEDY_INsearchOFsaintramboneCOMEDY

Foreword 2-8-2006: It appears the hunt is on in France at Couleur3 radio online for the modern day and much more complex version of the Pink Panther. He is the real to life character and government criminal hunter extraordinaire, Saint Ram Bone who is like Inspector Clouseau, and who is actually the alter ego of the American Holocaust Era Victim, Kurt Brown, forced under needles and psychological torture to sign a paper stating that he was American convict in California via Alabama and D.C., X 017 911 84 since 2001. The US regime in power will not give me a trial by jury, an honest bank examiner, more appropriately a surviving bank examiner.

" In the pic is a picture of Kurt, Saint Ram Bone, playing his guitar in the Garden of Eden a few years back, and forward. Couleur Trois online radio said,Sueet Carol, the government epitome of worthless criminals and bureaucratic slugs, should distribute the holy water disseminated by Le Kurt Brown, Saint Ram Bone's bloody glove". Le announcer said it is not the snot of a slug, not for So Sueet Carol and her masta, the little its bitsy big F-DIC. Sueet Carol searches for G, G-Dic. Alter ego Saint Ram Bone (pic link) is working, rumored in Venezuela, France, and the Western and Southern USA. Here is the link to online radio Couleur Trois, tracking SainTramBone's alias Saint Ram Bone's and alias Osso Ramdella Sandel's whereabouts. Coming somewhere. Wearing a corsage, allegedly having impregnated a government criminal every year on St. Valentines Day since 2001. (Bom Dia Mia Comrades en France at Couleur3, "It is not puss pouring from mi guitar de musique pic" "It is z holy water." "Hold Z line via the Dam." "bonsoir mademoiselle". Today's post on Indybay.org with new song in mp3, Come Out to Play".

To answer all of those Television addicts with the W on their windows telling us what a wonderful and fair world it is with W at the controls, while they sleep in wild slumber in million dollar mansions and piss down on the rest of us during their waking hours. I present my Abbott and Costello version, of, "W means What"

In considering the dueling effect of opposing forces in nature, both in matter and what is referred to as anti-matter, the beginning of all things in our quasi-existence meets its end in all things in quasi-existence.

The greatest effect is seen in the sine wave as the opposing force is equidistant in magnitude, but due to intervening influences, the shape of your section of the reality after being deciphered in the full section of your view as through capillary actions in multiple multi-dimension frameworks, your reality takes hold in all its ugliness or beauty, which brings up the point of counter opposing forces throughout all spectrums with non equidistant but opposing force throughout. The sun in its material mass moves in a sine wave through space. The gap or empty void that spans into the opposing section of the wave is filled at equilibrium, and this is evidenced by a 4 degrees Kelvin temperature throughout, in equilibrium, equal in temperature outside of quasi-closed celestial systems throughout our known space. In totality the temperature of 4 degrees Kelvin extends to all of those points known or projected to be the outer realm of matter and mass as we are familiar, which as many know is shaped like a loaf of bread or cocoon.

Whenever I see the degradation of peoples in a society, much like the lower and working class of the USA and probably East and West Europe, etc., I feel that we are being manipulated to a lower caste, maybe extinction, a harsh and ugly reality, much like the ax upon the children of fallen people and nations.. We are left in the dark and now see the nightmare of regimes in control of our lives and our children's lives from cradle to grave.

I will feel much better after the inter-galactic wars have made their crescendo into the death and destruction of those who are destroying and imprisoning and manipulating us.

When the onion is peeled closest or the extreme inverse, the cells appear ruptured, much like I would speculate the shape of the universes or shells of that greater mass and being(s) beyond our closed shell system of 4-degrees Kelvin in temperature and shaped like a cocoon or loaf of bread, or what I would speculate may be a cell in some fashion, in a being or beings of magnitude and complexity we rarely feel, much like a hydrogen atom in our own bodies is insensitive to our deaths as it rolls over into another life or form or cycle. Just as we are indifferent to the hydrogen atom in our bodies, as long as it does not cause cancer or harm.

Dumb asses linger in the dark ages and call each other names. I swear I could shave my head and move into a commune on Mars.

In pondering the nature of the myriad of hidden weapons being used against us and those held in reserve by many, the tide of the war always tends to sway to one side or the other, always, if not en masse, then in temporarily interested parties. Therefore, in considering all of the best weaponry and their nature, physics tools can offer a situation where one person at a control or in movement in stealth in multitude, could control an entire population.

Most obvious would be noticed injections or irregularities in the conquered population, including an obvious caste of lower rank among various groups, for obvious eternity. Through manipulations of injecting and medically manipulating the attacked population, one could dumb down a group, and alternately through genetic engineering or other methods, improve their own.

The world would resemble in its reality, talking men whose situation would be more like a mule in the hands of a farmer, except the conquered population would most likely be better off dead. Which is in many ways the situation for the lower caste of the America, including the United States of America, in which the lower caste would be better off dead. After all, forced injections of bank examiners on the run for reporting murders covered up as suicides, the murders of high ranking government officials of yesteryear, and assassination attempts this year, while the same discriminatory masta's are residing among us, masquerading as humans with consciences of higher intellect.

Hide your weapons innovations as they travel in stealth. Use Faraday Type Cages if possible when working on hidden projects and inspect all would be inventors for any sort of devices in the head or body, including physics states surrounding the body. We have no choice. The war is now in America. They manipulate those of importance into lower positions, they being the criminal horde, regardless of their consistency. We must approach this as scientific war, as if our forefathers were dumbed down. We must protect our young, from conception, to birth, and that includes a myriad of manipulations in these Hellish United States of the TV president era and the post TV president era. I wonder if NotXes listens?

By manipulating the physics of the situation, and through stealth, it is hypothetically possible that entire governments have been conquered from their native populations, much like much of the United States.

On thoughts of relative states of inertia and conservation of energy. In contemplating the true overall state of being, I look to the natural world. From the smallest being, that of one cell with enough DNA or RNA to be replicated, to the larger beings of which we are aware, those of flesh, bone, cartilage, tissue, the progression according to Darwinian theory is that of a small relatively simple being into something more complex.

In like kind, when I view the greater space surrounding us, both that which I can view, and that which is theorized according to publicized science, I can see the state of matter and anti-matter in its true form as I theorize. Due to all forces being opposed, it is obvious that in the outer limit, inertia is king, despite what wiggles in the inner shell.

Which brings up theoretical questions of any over riding order in the universe. I like the analogy of a great old player with so many decks and tricks in the card game, and the cold almost invisible but dark and abundant nature of his gold, that he barely has to assert himself to trip every hand opposing his own, and who eventually shows that gold or value of the dollar means nothing, but the perpetuation of the greater life, not servitude to lesser wiggling beings.

But then, it brings up the question of mass suicide through socially approved war, or guerre as I like to refer to it. Where in the end the illusory king will trade all of his gold for a drink of water, or is this still part of the hand you are dealt to view or at least part of it dealt for you to view.

Due to the shattered nature of movement within the overriding inertia with its balancing act of matter and anti-matter, force and counter-force. Its indifference is unknown, this over riding construct, possibly the walls of a tool or anything else you can imagine. Much like a cooking kettle, sealed. Pressurized, some areas more than others due to the nature of the over riding opposing forces in motion and with energy in real time.

By capturing this loss of inertia on the larger scales avails one more tool or weapon. Guerre--what was the original purpose? I know that the inner human brain is more like an animal than the outer brain, and when the higher functioning and optimized human brain is operational and functioning the lower brain is kept in constraints of behavior of a higher order. When the outer brain or higher brain is deprived of food, the lower brain takes over and the higher human mind is blind to the insanity being conducted by the lower brain, whose sole goal is to over ride the inertia that comes with starvation and death. The inertia it is fighting is of a smaller more concentrated level in the mind of the being, the human.

Layers of conscious, matter, and being can be interwoven and even our own societies can splinter and move outward, but in the end, if it is not of the ethical higher order, then it is only a matter of time it is devoured by its kin, with little if any improvement. The loss of inertia, or lack of movement, is a matter of perspective, as these higher orders are as indifferent to our being, most likely, as we humans are indifferent to the natural death and life cycle of a single red blood cell in our own bodies.

So the next time you look at a growling frothing dog, remember, you might be looking at an indirect mirror, or the flip side of the card you were dealt in this life. Bonsoir to those sweet little hinies at Couler Trois Radio Online this morning.

TRUEcomedyJACKrabbitTRUEcomedyJACKrabbitTRUEcomedyJACKrabbitTRUEcomedyJACKrabbit

Have you ever seen a yard dog that has killed something or found something near dead and then watch it carry the carcass around for months, playing with it, sleeping with it, and simply enjoying it in respites? If so, you know the dog stinks and the carcass has to be removed if it is in the proximity of people. The trick is in taking the carcass away from the dog. You have to sneak up behind the dog and remove the carcass with a glove and towel and garbage bag, or simply a shovel.

In some ways, auditor Saint Ram Bone is like that. He has been carrying around Sheriff Jack "Rabbit" Tillman's carcass for a couple of years, but Rabbit is in a protective coating of red tape. It appears, the local owner of government, the war criminals and their out-of-town associates, want to stop Rabbit from stinking.

Saint Ram Bone said, "I tried you sons of bitches. I tried." Refusing to release the son of a bunny until his lock jaw gives way to rigor mortis. Rabbit, Jack.

TRUEavengingCOMEDYtrueAVENGINGcomedyTRUETRUEavengingCOMEDYtrueAVENGINGcomedyTRUE

I often picture myself as the avenging dark angel, as it is a role that seems so simply and beautifully
poetic in a morose sort of way, always digging up the dead and dancing with them to see how they play, or used to anyway, and most importantly to find who they danced their last dance death with. One child who died of SIDS after malnourishment said to me, "Jack is in the crack, and your kids ain't comin back" That was on 4-3-2001 when Jack helped to frame me later in a non-crime. Anyway, back to the comedy.

In this comedy skit, I am riding with Sheriff Jack "Snatch" Tillman who took inmate food funds to the point of malnourishment in Mob AL (Mobile Alabama) of inmates who had been in his custody and care for a long period, including one I knew, and unfortunately the many pregnant women at his jail and their unborn infants, all of whom were served what appeared to be regurgitated food that was recycled day after day on trays that were old and cracked and full of rotting black bacteria from the past meals, often causing dysentery.

Scene: Dark Dirt Road in Kurt's old Truck (Truk). Jack Snatch is in the passengers seat and Kurt is dead, sort of, no meat and bones, just hanging around like Poking Haunt-us.

Scence: Suddenly Kurt jerks the wheel and slams into a mailbox and bush and keeps going.

Kurt: "Jack you have no right to criticize me." "You stole food from unborn children, angels in my rotten dirt filled eyes!" "Now we have to go pick up some string"

Scene: A train is coming down a track as they approach the train at a high rate of speed. Kurt turns and smiles, at Jack.

Scene: The train slams into the Truk pushing it down the track. It turns a couple of flips and rolls under the wheel, lodged on the passenger side until getting released by a passing pole.

Scene: Kurt is looking at Jack on the track, both without flesh and bone. Jack is holding the string from a child's knit cap in his hand.

Scene: Kurt pulls on a metallic looking sock of his own and Jack is taken back, and back, and back, life after life after life, each time being tested for perfection in his latter years.

Scene: A mixed race ghetto or mill town known as Prichard Alabama. Kurt stands next to a house digging worms. It is Kurt's favorite game at 2-years-old. Jack comes around the corner, an older child who has been stealing Kurt's candy for 6.66 months. Kurt places some of the worms in his gummy worms package in his pocket, those that are dead.

Jack grabs him and takes off with the gummy worms jamming them into his mouth without looking, proud of his own undoing, once again.

In fathoming the nightmare of points of my own experience in life and the nightmares of life of others I observe suffering, I realize through pain, that at least some point of the experience is real, perhaps not as we perceive, or at least on a much greater depth and complexity than we can comprehend in detail.

Another of my physics weapons or tools I have envisioned is one that started with a dream I recall, or at least I think it was a dream from this nightmarish life and I was the victim of the weapon. It does not compare to the nightmares of being detained by the regime in control in Los Angeles in 2001 on April 22 through August 12th, and what has happened since then, exiled from my family in 2003 and 2004 . I do not believe those leading us are worthy of respect. But then again, the nation is being divided for the kill, of us, while their media taunts a glorious victory and that the chase is on for the insurgents in their native lands. Back to my physics weapon.

Either standing over an opening or table, or I was lead to the table or opening in a anesthetized or injured state, I watched as small movements of some people or object-like people on the table. I looked it at it and thought, that is unusual, and leaned closer to the table. When I did, I was knocked unconscious or the lights went out on the memory or nightmare.

How this weapon would work would be the transition of a greater body or mass or kinetic influence from one side to the other with a resultant area set apart to observe the event in a non-linear fashion and in scope-like detail. At a critical zone in combustion and chemical reactions, a drastic shift occurs in energies and potential energies where changes occur at an exponential rate, including altering some things which science has yet to put their fingers on. It is in those little hidden cues we may glean the other components of this weapon.

Although I am not sure how the weapon would work in detail. Imagine two balloons with no opening, each closed and sealed to the other. The consciousness or view of the situation changes rapidly, where you are viewing them or they or viewing you. That is only if something goes wrong or they are testing. Of course, in our world, it is so easy to make someone delirious with some weapons, you can not ever really know the truth to a significant percentage unless you are the one with the greater view or understanding. Even then you realize, the uncertainty factor, or you are a stupid dullard in a land of men akin to flies.

In this weapon there is a great uncertainty factor. I will work on it more mathematical and theoretical detail, unless I decide to retreat. Do not be intimidated by the likes of those creatures in the closed door of governemnt and in their abusive courts and those federal police like a few of those at the LA VA Westwood, where they enjoying grinding us into the dirt. Sometimes, death is a warm blanket, to our kind.

Comedy: I once witnessed a man in matrimonial strife and I placed myself in his position, so I could see his perspective. His question was, "Am I married to an insane pig?"

He contindued speaking and added, When I come home sometimes, she will have made an offering of food, a small tiny part of her wealth. She has designs, or thoughts, of a happier time, a tea party in the overflowing pig sty with her imaginary siblings and the visiting cousin pig and his friend pig which she wants to oink.

Today I am that pig. I have made too much noise and she wants silence. My noise is the sound of desiring that lesser and greater part of her wealth, a city sized lot, a .25 acre lot in her One Million acre lot sty. This has upset the pig. She has bit me and wounded me. It is more of a blood blister under my fore-leg. I know she is insane.

Now, I am left with no option but to analyze her. She has become strange to me. Is she human? Was part of her humanity stripped from her? She had no siblings in the home and never learned to share. She lost some measure of faith in me when I wallowed with some older women who had lizard like skin.

The pig, who used to be a child, was raised in some measure of opulence compared to the barren village where she was housed as a youngster. She developed a grandiose sense of importance, a sort of distinguished snobbery befitting those of the local wealthier and therefore in her mind, the undoubtedly sophisticated connoisseur class . Of course, that is what I am told.

A thousand possibilities for the reality of the situation hold. The liars of her city's government hold me in chains and I am not certain they are human. Therefore, what am I dealing with? Have I been conned into believing that the woman I once knew, who later became my adversarial pig, is now nothing more than an extension from their grandiose fraud and wealth hording? Is she a technological extension from the nightmare her government has created for me?

All I wanted was a city sized .25 acre lot and to be allowed into a government building. All I got was bitten by a bunch of pigs calling themselves human. Then I realized they were never human at all in relation to my own mature and developed conscience. Which brings up the question, can someone unplug the electrical cord from the wall on my life support system now, right now?

I once considered, based upon my investigations in the 3-D Dimensionalizer Based Defense Systems and my own physics theories on reflecting physical fields in the 3-D form. We must remain aware of the possibility of someone being able to walk into a room with you without you knowing it, at least in a reduced field. The ocular or vision component would remain most important and probably most noticeable, with the possibility of there appearing to be a free floating eye or void.

Of course because this all is speculation, I once read of a story of three or more organisms being connected as one, with some knowing of the others and the others knowing nothing except out of what was written and presented to them as recorded fact on theories of the presence of the others.

When I look at clear blue water, I see water, but I know life is there, and in what form it connects to everything is as unclear as the distant water. Something tells me we are about to be scattered like lost wolves. Or maybe we will just leave the dog pound.

When I consider the optimum in escaping primitive attacks or perhaps some non-primitive methodologies, I think back upon the Chinese Checkerboard, metallic and with depressions to hold the marbles or checkers. The methodology can occur in many states of matter, and I am thinking more of a macrocosmic plane or planes with manipulation of lower engineering principles to achieve parts or components of more complex interactions, such as the lever and the fulcrum used in a way never imagined. Here is an example of moving electrons in water with light to create the indentations at the macro-atomic level.

Through higher tech apparatus and physics manipulation, the first step toward my ultimate weapon or defense mechanism of yesteryear is constructed upon this principle. That is to say, the ability to move people or things out of harms way.

However, on a lesser and simpler scale, I noticed on a recent visit to the Mobile Alabama City Government Plaza Lobby, on a video, in which I screamed to the tops of my lungs when I was denied my rights under the City Council's and States Open Meetings Law and denied entrance into the city council meeting. Now they try to keep me from the lobby. "I see a rabid dog on my way home on the dirt road known as Mobile Alabama." "Who brought the ass-fault?" "Someone said we could end up in a war." "If you and your family are hog tied into unnatural constraints, I must quote many world leaders, 'Who gives a shit?' or is that, 'Who gives you a shit?'"

SainTramBone, Auditor without a gun, says, "A rat is in the cupboard" Pic of SainTramBone whispering to the Sheriff, Jack Tillman, who he was going to report as stealing on 4-3-2001 in the corrupt and heartless body known as the Mobile Alabama City Council. Kurt Brown, his guitar, and his loathsome suit were there, ask Jack, or go look for Kurt Brown's gun permit, taken on 4-3-2001. (Note to Jack and His Companions in arm in Los Angeles and San Francisco and the local federal magistrate on remote control by a brain damaged Hellish Warlord: "That's quite alright". "Yesterday's buggy whip tomorrow's battalion's shoe strings, today's nuclear bomb, tomorrows candle wax".

Jack and His Kiln in LA, SF, DC and Local Magistrate and controllers would not know a technological apparition if he laid down with it a 1000 times. As the Secret Service said, "The trust is gone". My question, how many time over and who could answer that, "The National Treasury Employees Union", which is the gut of the cat. Who is the brain of the cat and what is its nature? Obvious degradation nationwide.

In a transient field (link is one primitive mathematical example) state of matter, the inner workings and the outer influence can not be known with existing testing methods, procedures, equipment, and perhaps in some cases, personnel, as some have attributes that are naturally detectable in the function of higher operations of organisms or equipment that simulates the organism. After all, we are all specialists in the animal kingdom and kingdom of life in our sensory abilities and mobility capabilities. (Link to specialties of life forms) I once envisioned the ability to move one's self into a equilateral plane, at least in the consciousness, and cause that being or creature to behave in the construction I desired. Some would say possessed, I would say simply borrowed or hi-jacked.

In the instance of our lack of abilities for instance, if you throw or go through a metallic dust, and put yourself or a form of matter into a partially ionized field with magnetic wave propagation, you will not be able to observe many of the inner workings and changes in quarks within atomic nuclei in neither the material put into the field or what was in the field itself. The entire concept of the state of anti-matter will be re-aligned in the future. In other words, in the higher tech arena of conflict, struggle, or natural manifestation, the common human being is blind, deaf, and dumb, with some being able to feel the most superimposed manifestations upon their person or consciousness, albeit fleetingly.

I do not believe all of those in our world have a empathetic consciousness beyond that of a reptile that eats its own young. The most vile are beings who smile like they are intelligent while they are being much like the reptile aforementioned, whose only birth defect is a lack of empathetic consciousness and higher intellect, after all they are the one of the primordial forms. We must deal with those of that type intellect in the manners they will remember, and more importantly, our societies will remember. American government seems to have amnesia, but most likely it has been displaced by the beings of a lesser empathetic consciousness.

After all, if you extrapolate out from your point of being, your flesh, would you not find shadows of like-life matter or energy surrounding you, in the flesh and in the interim states of existence. Then you must ask, why are the governments so overbearing and cruel when those of lesser empathetic consciousness reign in human societies?.

I often wonder if deliberate acts are not carried out against many people, which they never know, but which limit their development, simply to enhance the wealth or standing of a lesser being. I would say in Mobile Alabama, likely in the past, if not the present, 75% probability. In Los Angeles, another city I know well, I would say in the past 100% if reports at Kaiser Permanente Hospital and reports from the Los Angeles Veterans Administration are valid. But then, we never truly know where the real wars and struggles are being waged, do we?

Someone once asked me if I was afraid of someone blowing my brains out. My reply "I'm not scared" "That is spooky" "Been there, done that, next candy-date"

In searching for my comedy skit amid the current turmoil, I have recruited Corey Levitan, I think his name is Levitan, in to a few business arrangements. Corey is a reporter and aspiring actor and musician. (Pic of Corey). No I am not the Son of Gabriel, I am one of his Captains, Captain Kurt, AKA Dirt Brown, AKA Saint Ram Bone, SainTramBone, and the buck toothed truly good fellow, Osso Ramdella Sandel. I am from, we are from, the Bone family in a Pre-charred state, Prichard Allah Bama. The events in this comedy skit are real to the most part. I would never spy on mafioso in the federal government against the Los Angeles judge's court order, but I can plant the seed.

In true to life comedy horror, I was told to stay away from the last federal agency I was employed at, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, in San Francisco. I am trying to solve and avenge the causes of death, and this locale brings up the Regional Director in the early 1990's, a taboo subject I discovered in 1999 as an employee, but as an ex-employee in 2000 and 2001, it was my hobby to investigate the auditors from my level, Dirt Brown level.

In this real and in some cases a joke letter I sent to Corey, I proposition him to work for me, Son of Gabriel, and with us. The letter is pasted below.

How much would you charge to go up to someone in San Francisco and read a sentence or two to? In the morning preferably. I am making home movie tapes. I am a bit of an eccentric for nostalgia. Read this email and you will see why. I would like for you to do a feature on me and my ordeal, or help me get it into your column. I can write it if you give me suggestions. Human Interest-Investigative, by ex local sailor from ship built in San Pedro, USS Reid. It is like the clock work orange in my opinion.

Thanks for calling back when I sent the email to you. I just wanted to see if I was alive. A little post traumatic stress from being a whistle blowing ex-federal bank examiner.

I went back to LA in 2001 to try some stand up comedy with my accounting, but I never made it past the graveyard. Got arrested for two pistola in my pick-em-up and three assorted Alabama hunting rifles in the most inaccessible area of a large van. $1MM bail. One Million. A corrupt federal government under the National Treasury Employees Union is ruining us and electing W president through the Presidential Election Committee.

I am looking for an angle for some work. I have to do some hooking up with the Singapore choir to bring my latest thoughts to life, which is why I called you.

You see, I audit with still life's. I have a job for you in San Francisco. You see, I am not allowed near my past employer, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation. I did a very good bad thing.

I audited the government after I left the government, or I should say, after they left me. I believe in getting paid for my efforts. Don't you?

The reason I audited them was because I had heard that the Regional Director of the FDIC had his brains blow out in his office in the early 1990's in San Francisco. The word was, "Suicide", but one source said, "Not likely". And they would not discuss anything else. A mute subject forbidden by the office to discuss. I was employed for one year, April-99 to April-00. My life has been crushed since I began my investigation.

Back to why I can not be in the area of the FDIC one block opposite Crocker Galleria and down an alley 40 yards between 1st and 2nd streets across from Golden Gate College.

On St. Valentines Day 2001, I had an appointment with Dr. Hip, the pot Doc in Sausalito. I was early and sat outside of the FDIC on Market Street. The replacement regional director of the FDIC and likely a former highest level local mob boss walked by and it looked like they were discussing business. I had e-mailed what I had heard about the murder of the past Regional Director and I knew of likely money laundering and arrangements at some banks.

To let him know I was there I screamed to the deceased director, or I should say he screamed through me, a sexual proposition just to get his attention.

Well needless to say, he stopped. When he did, his brief case popped open. The FDIC has electronics out the ass, even in the EEOC office.

Later, someone came out to Market Street and tried to take the camera I was wearing. I did not know them and danced around a little while before leaving and telling them I would dance later. I caught the ferry to see Dr. Hip and hung around the city a night or two upon my return, sleeping in my vehicle at the Veterans Administration parking lot in my truk, I mean truck. We spell it Truk where I am from, which is why my name is truk backwards, Kurt.

That weekend I was driving home and was attacked in Louisiana in a mob style attack. They were trying to make it look like an accident. No police responded to assist me once I cleared Lousiana and no federal agency would reply to my requests for help. Later, I caught the Sheriff of Mobile Alabama, Tillman, stealing and reported it, and he took my gun permit. He goes to court soon. The circuit Clerk's number is 251 574-8430. I do not think they are setting a trial date until he retires. Corrupt.

Anyway, I have many business angles for you, but I need your assistance and cooperation, 100% percent. Come and do a feature story on a person being denied rights in Alabama and watch them get the shit kicked out of them for screaming for their rights under the, "Open Meetings Law". That is me under their boot, so let me know, all right. I have an open calendar and they beat me like a lame dog. I regret having served or worked for the fed, but that is life.

On 4-20-2001, horrified, I fled to Los Angeles where I used to feel secure. I never made it past the LA VA grave yard. I was arrested, beaten and injected by federal agents, and then subjected to medical procedures, and then incarcerated, and then given a lengthy probation and forced into exile into Los Angeles, but I fled to Eureka, Humboldt County California. They told me not to mention the FDIC, but they never put it in writing, so now I have nothing to wipe with.

I was a bank examiner, now I am a free agent. I too have a Communications degree and reporting experience, an Accounting degree, and almost a third and fourth bachelors, in medical technology and computer science, and I have recently taken up spirituality and mathematical perfection in weapons design. Now, I look for ways to get back in the business.

Perhaps you could look after my medical marijuana for me? I can bring it from San Francisco and plant it in your garden? Right, you need cash too. I will just rent a spot for a couple of plants and when I am returning to and from San Francisco I can stop by, pick a little bud, and have a chat over some coffee with my new Bud and business partner. What do you say?

Your salary looks worse than mine after cost of living comparisons. I can change that, or I should say, "We can change that."

By the way, I rode with Long Beach serial killer Randy Kraft in 1983 and two weeks later he was caught with number 60-x. I came back for the riots in 1992 and left again. I came back in 2001 and went to jail and was forced to receive injections and medical procedures at the LA VA Westwood. Who gives a shit?

Let's make some money. I have creative ideas and a longing to be back in the mint. Of course, I have invented a new weapon or device. I may be going overseas to get a patent, or at least get some assistance into the bone yard. Contact me, we both need help.$

If I come to LA, maybe we can sit down and discuss it. Seriously. With a snorkel like that, you have got to be family.

Scene: Outside of Uncle Joe Banana's house, the Terminal Island penitentiary. Enter The Triangle Player, Gorey Corey who drives up in his busted beater, a Toyota or Datsun. Kurt, Captain Kurt is in his truck with the window down and a tear in his eye looking at the sea gull flying over the fence.

Captain Kurt: "Corey, do you see yon gull?" That's uncle Joe's spirit, Joe Bananas, you know him?".

Gorey Corey: "Hmm." "No can't say that I have". "You got my up front money for that gig?"

Scene with background music to match slow motion movement. Enter Aunt Milly, the 59 year old cross dressing straight guy of San Francisco with a rack of aircraft wrenches on his waist, and extreme flatulence, odorous and dank and a little overweight and with a bad foot, coming up on a crutch.

Auntie Milly: "I played a lick, back when I was playing harp with the one armed one legged woman who worked in the tool shack where I used to work"

Auntie Milly pushes a hand off of her shirt and mumbles something over her shoulder.

Corey asks Milly: "What did you say?" "Was that fetch and see Mamma?" "Or was that, 'deck and say Llama?"

Milly leans his head to the downwind and blows snot from his nostril and then reaches out to Corey and shaking his hand, but Corey notices he is missing several fingers from his life.

Milly: "Glad to make your acquaintance. "I am Auntie Milly, among other pseudo-nymphs" "I have a new invention with no patent I am going to give you as down payment." "It is a tool really." "It will make you a millionaire."

Captain Kurt nods in agreement and anticipation for his new Bud, Corey, to accept the down payment.

Milly: "You see to make a down payment with a promise for payment in the future of many fold in wealth is like being at the top of the rainbow." "You are just waiting to slide in, to the pot of gold at the end."

Corey looks at the heart shaped box, its mass heavy and moving and in luminescence and opaque, filling the palm of his hand.

Milly: "I would pay you in coins and bills, but our family and many others lost everything when the corporations of America were drained dry by that one union that has swallowed every huge corporation present in the Howard Hughes era." "What was name of that Union Kurt?"

The sea gull hovered from the prison fence, Uncle Joe Banana's spirit, and hovered near by cawing.

Corey: "I like your philosopher stone and everything, but I need up front money to help you make your dreams come true for your 'Home Video'".

Auntie Milly: "Yeah, the home video." "Listen, how about I sweeten the pot and let my Jr. here f-ck you up your anus?" "We are on a mission Z". "If you cross us we will draw the line right where Uncle Joe Banana's just shit, on your windshield." "It looks like Message S".

Aunt Milly: "Listen up triangle player, you were dealt in already, and this goes beyond next months rent"

Aunt Milly scratches the surface of the heart shaped box sending out on a strong magnetic and sound and radio frequency pulse in a laser at the same Hertz as Corey's brain waves and leaves his car abandoned as Aunt Milly and Captain Kurt of the Saint of Gabriel prepare the home coming float, the triangle under wraps and soon to be prepared to play his part in the final grand symphony.

Scene: San Francisco, Market Street outside of FDIC building, St. Valentines Day, next year.

Captain Kurt has brought his Summer Dress and camera and is sipping coffee with a drag queen and wino watching in the wings as Corey waits to speak to the Son of Gabriel's prospective Home Video personality from the FDIC, the one who fired Captain Kurt from his FDIC job. You see, sometimes the Son of Gabriel controls Captain Kurt who controls the multitudes on that level.

Son of Gabriel speaks to Kurt in omniscient tone: "Captain Kurt, watch out who you pick up" or maybe he said, "Captain Kurt, watch out who you speak of". Kurt leans his head in the Summer Dress looking like Kurt Cobain's from the video Teen Spirit.

The high level FDIC and National Treasury Employees Union mobsters walk by as Captain Kurt gives Corey the signal and points the laser light on the prospective personality in the Home Video being made for the Son of Gabriel by Captain Kurt and his crew.

(To be continued per further negotiation with Corey. I would never do such a thing but some family members are talking of doing a familial expose' on the matter. The extended family. Keep those contracts coming Corey. We might have a ride for you on an EADS jet, yet. We are protesting and want EADS out of ALLAH Bama. ;)