Sitting Pretty with the AIDS Combine
Obviously murderers as dangerous and criminally insane as Robert Fripp and Yoko Ono are not in a million years going to stop with the full enthusiasm of law enforcement after over 40 years of vicious brutality and sadism. They will continue to cyber-tamper, threaten, kill innocent people, rape and bomb at will in thrilling justification for their statement that AIDS was No. 9.
I want to go over a few formulas with you grandma, regarding the postcard I sent you when I realized this was going to have to be seen through, back in the 80’s, and I want to thank you again for the beautiful blue jacket you helped me make by hand, teaching even to sow button holes, that summer when I came out to Gray Street, the summer of Get Down and Stuck in the Middle With You, the summer I read The New Centurions which you had just finished, back when it was a new bestseller, the summer D.T. died. I knew from that of course that you did in fact know all the words I wasn’t allowed to say in front of you.
First the Federal Bureau of Investigation tortured me. They murdered your great grandchildren in a sense by splattering the school with the abortion from the girl I truly truly loved. The FBI tortured me for saying Reagan started AIDS back in fact when I didn’t yet think it had been him. Of course, I didn’t understand everything yet. I knew that he was demonic about liberalism and his snickering hate cast a dark shadow over the way I was kidnapped and mutilationed as a darling little boy.
The Beatles and King Crimson will always lie. The New York Times and Harpers, who betrayed Ward, like playing games about the kidnapping, sort of taunting me with the idea that the Post-Gazette might try to straighten things out with an article stating that it happened, that I was too scared to tell anybody and that Robert Fripp did some unconscienable things with Carnegie Mellon, but they won’t, it’s not just that they don’t dare, although I suspect that’s a ruse, that nobody really cares about public opinion, it’s more like they’re toying with the idea of reporting it to taunt me because lying has been absolutely famous for them.
There’s something wrong with Midori Goto, and I don’t just mean that she is a partner of Mehta and you were surrounded by a Mehta Family in the last years of your residency in Poplar Bluff, just that the whole story has something pre-written about it, the way they pretended to find it and saw it all through.
The British were too busy experimenting on us, smashing things at the breaking point, to warn anyone properly. What do the Beatles care? For them it’s all fiction. For them, we are all just ants. I was used as part of the weapons program. They kept toying, viciously, indescribably viciously, with the neuroplasm then setting off bombs to my therapeutic poetry. It was hard to get them to stop it. They think they have the right to torture someone for saying that AIDS was manmade, for saying it was Reagan. When they finally got me to say it, they died laughing.
The film-maker in Russia who is so important I think his name was Sergei Eisenstat, anyway whoever made Ivan the Terrible and gave comfort to Stalin, that’s the sort of villain as hero Hollywood authors with Flynt, Ringo and Oliver Stone. Hitler turned everything around. My old friend Martha Gellhorn, my oh my, had a wonderful article in Colliers Magazine, “Come Ahead, Adolf,” and that’s of course what he was after with the Burstyn letters, “Come Ahead, Jeemee.” Why don’t you go tell old wormWard?
I would have been a wonderful father, Grandma, a father like the Rifleman, on TV. I’m sure that’s why they wanted to overwhelm us of all people. Our dignity was so strong. I remember all your neighbors. To this day some of them say things like, “Why don’t you kill yourself already,” as though I was 20 still. They’ve used me ferociously for over 40 years, robbed me as psychopaths through online interrogation, daring me to practice free speech, under the guidelines of trappers who molest children, and their laughing D.A. saying, “sometimes that’ll do it, myuh.”
It’s obviously very sad. The USA: No More Heart, just hated.
The story of Operation: Medicine Man solves the problem of hysterical cruelty and sadism towards me for Yoko Ono and the rock stars. HitlerReagan knew that given any excuse the American Judiciary would be acquiescent and say who cares about the AIDS Onslaught. The Newspaper establishment shut its door and allowed a few strange monsters like Youssou N’dour to do slasher murder as therapy.
I hesitate to call something so obvious genius, but if there was a guiding idea behind the symphony of torture, murder and terror authored by Britain called Gail Burstyn it was the tagteam with Sean Strub. The idea that gay ill burst in was the anthem of the staged and phony intercept, then all faithful and raising their hands on high to fascist pigs like Peter Gabriel enjoyed the show of 911 and ripper murders that Pink Floyd unleashed while Robert Fripp and his sister Patricia, operating out of offices like the German revenge specialist Martha Harty Schiene’s Alternative Conflict Resolution at CMU, transferred shame back to their victims with cowardly bombings and ripper terror directed at other innocent people until the Germanic half of the victims was also quenched and they saw the light.
Tony Levin embarked on using Gurdjieff’s extreme philosophy of masochism to Svengali victims collectively through the hurdle of AIDS (never explaining while accepting AIDS was better than being warned and protected from AIDS, excepting of course that it enhanced his notoriety). The AIDS Combine knew no shame and the shame was on the other side, that of the victims, not the heroes of the combine.
The British are pretty sordid people. What they did to little Jimmy was just the beginning. But then, virginity proves rape, too, myuh, myuh, MYAWK!
Letter to the US Navy
My father Ryland Wesley Crary served as a Lieutenant on the US San Jacinto (CVL-30) a WW2 aircraft carrier. His civilian career included terms as Chair of the Philosophy of Education program at the University of Pittsburgh.
As a child I was assaulted blindside by an armed gang in East Liberty who brutally kidnapped and tortured me. The treatment was too degrading and deadly to describe. I went deaf when one of them, Wm. Wattenmaker, now of Neurobehavioral Research at Pitt, gave me a deadly nerve agent that remained buried causing an invisible injury for many years.
As a little boy from the pacific fleet when the Air Force dropped the Little Boy Bomb on Hiroshima, I became aware from evidence left by Wattenmaker that what has been done to me is part of a secret government military program called the Little Girl bomb which included the release of AIDS. If you track my movements you will find that the confederates of Wattenmaker lured me to Mt. Desert Island immediately after the virus spread for an AIDS testing war game.
The British knew about it and sent me a windy, fraudulent alibi. They then set upon me for Pitt at the Community of Allegheny County where I worked in the library as a deaf person with an attack prostitute named Rosine Monteleone from Milan, Italy. I was in love and thought she wanted to be married.
Pitt was protecting Wattenmaker. They knew about the buried neuroplasm. They knew I didn’t know, my mother didn’t know, nor did my school. Rosa was hired to stoke the neuroplasm into a breaking point to put me into seizures and convulsive arrest so that Pitt strategic services could attack me in the injury as though it were a character flaw. When a deaf woman named Jeannie Tamburro stepped in and tried to protect me, she was attacked and brutally raped.
I ended up homeless, in an ordeal for my life for the following twenty years. In Seattle, a hospital orderly at Harborview Medical Center purposefully gave me the wrong and needless medicine, deliberately leaving me all but chemically castrated, in reprisals by the British for talking. They forced me to travel all the way to New York City by train to Seattle while very sick to offer a High Apology, in Japanese custom, to Yoko Ono, whose husband was killed as part of the Little Girl attack. I found this incredibly demeaning to the interests of the U.S. Navy. Andy Warhol had many contact in the neighborhood where depraved, violent pedophiles kidnapped and mutilated me as a little boy. He was a friend of Yoko Ono. Wattenmaker came from the classy cadre of Jewish kids who frequented Julliard nearby her home. All of it is very suspicious of a revenge attack by fascist forces internally.
Thus, I have to protest. I realize that AIDS took care of a class of people who are regarded as unbecoming to the martial character, if not always the martial spirit, as the sadistic and horrid, violent way I was tortured by gay pedophiles as a hostage child illustrates, but to use my name, and destroy my life, in a secret program intended to violate the Genocide Treaty is completely inexcusable. Whoever authorized all this at Pitt is dangerously disturbed and yet at large in the Pittsburgh civic community.
The Wattenmakers came from the Jewish Holocaust Survivor Community, and tolerance of them appears to be part of a sophisticated bi-partisan quid pro quo that I don’t feel comfortable assenting to in silence.
This letter is printed in copy, in the public domain, at St. Louis Today Current Affairs Forums page online, although it may be moved by their brass to Off-Topic. You are welcome to contribute a reply.
Very truly yours,
James MacRyland Crary
Mr. Cannabis Castro
For the syphilitics in the Caligula Palace of London, Martin Luther King, as we know from the King Crimson papyrus signed Gail Burstyn, symbolized the abolition of Church/State separation. To make sure he did not die in vain, the victim buried in Bitberg/Belsen and Queen Elizabeth set upon deaf white suck with Hitler jailbait. The principle of the thang was beardstroked by King’s son Dyslexter, Mr. President of Intellectual Property Management in Atlanta. The principle that invasion of privacy is trumped by public sniveling when discovery of sex eurekas underwrote the orechestration of “Come Out or We’ll Burn You Out,” H.Q. of the British Foreign Service.
Foolishness adds up and the Shinto war game clocked to AIDS has gained sufficient definition to begin checking incredible contradictions against demonstrable realities to untie truth from British fabrication and the ugliness of Queen Elizabeth’s backstab of the Woodstock Generation with Godspell Nammies and Hollywood in fulfillment of Hitler’s revenge plan is writ large, and counting on human sentiment about so-called over-population. Only the Beatles matters, and if you think other than, then you killed Lennon, too.
Lennon wudda shoveled spaghetti on De De Mancine’s plate with a Dali eating grin. Seattle closed ranks around psychedelic tabloids in pro-pedophilia services for Hitler’s Basque Injuns to protect their smear in the venture. If you think Black Lives Matter raiding the microphone of wanking jewboy Bernie Sanders in West Lake was bad, you shudda seen’m go at Jimmy when Rosa notes started flying.
Contending with an Esoteric Circle requires wisening. As a result the disgrace of Mark Nordenberg of Pitt can be measured in the way Pitt burned my life from both ends and in the middle. With the issues requiring a long gestation which was the point of Gail Burstyn suppression of dissent can be accomplished by premature death or inhalant senility.
It is as if Patochka had something on Havel.
Both Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton are criminally insane. Operating through the State of Pennsylvania they experimented with intent to do total humiliation and the Union won’t allow compensation because they have prior conscripted as compulsory their collaborationist idea of strict political control over the persona generated by the tension between Jimmy Crary and National Security, a lewd, ridiculous situation from the mind of HitlerReagan to many rounds of denial. Their platform is that no issue of torture or child mutilation mitigates naming the killer. They are politicking a bizarre psychological operation to justify failure to warn the public or arrest Gail Burstyn. To comprehend this you need to realize that every last AIDS victim on earth’s interest in being informed, every person who was at risk, in trauma and could have been saved takes second fiddle to their egos and the maniacal politics of Hitler’s emissary Yoko Ono. This also is what is really going on in Ferguson right now.
The anniversary of Michael Brown’s shooting came on the heels of Megan Kelly’s memorable exchange with Trump during the Republican/Fox special interest presentation laughably termed a debate. We need to be clear about what we just saw and what it indicates about the mutual agendas of the Hillary-Trump tagteam and their media satraps. It pushed Jebb Bush out of the camera lens, and gave the public a thirst, a bloodlust, for a showdown between class bullies. The fact that Mrs. Kelly wants to move on, while CNN has announced that Trump’s childishness has confirmed his powerhouse nature, the fact that Kelly wants to move on may well be the motive behind the slap in the face. Trump may have asked Fox with whom is always chatty on the phone, to hit him right off where he is weakest on the basis of Nietzsche’s sacred axiom that which fails to destroy strengthens, a half-truism that serves our Nietzsche generation in power. Trump, who doesn’t care what he mustn’t say because of the risk of elder abuse, knows that Americans are closet douches and doofbags who privately throw personal insults around like confetti, has now paraded the wilding spree of his campaign as a session in I’m Okay, You’re Okay.
The sexuality of the moment is lewd. While I certainly don’t care to imagine either Trump or Clinton as Mature porn stars, I don’t enjoy having the integrity and deportment of my personhood rendered political by a Federally mandated, “We,” or trampled upon the way they have molested me. Trump abuses women with Republican chivalry, a mixture of distain for thin skins and hostility for common decency while Hillary steps up to vow that the byproducts of such male attitudes and seductions will not be tolerated by the sorority of birth control. So now we know just how it is. While this doesn’t begin to answer the horrid indecency of the malicious claim that a brutally impacted head wound itself proves the victim abusive, it does shed light on the mayhem in Ferguson.
Central to the whole career of Bush and Clinton as partners in Middle East War and blackout Gestapo on the prowl of our campuses and rock arenas, led mysteriously by Moonunit Zappa, is the manner in which they used Obama as an installation for the purpose of keeping Black patriotic, bailing out the whites in power as usual, while inciting lunatics at Death Row and Nation of Islam to believe that AIDS was a race war crime. The result was endorsement of those who released AIDS, literally, by Black Power chauvanists who were granted the myth of victim status as a function of bully dominion. Nelson Mandela sided with the murderers of Martin Luther King, adopted their script, when offered freedom in return for silence about AIDS, and Midori’s box. At Duquesne University where much of all this was hatched, like the tang of lizzie borden, a man named Davey Jones approached me with an Asian girl named Jocelyn. The Elders had begun. Wise owls like Bowie who could orchestrate the power of misunderstanding among the masses to gangland satisfy. If you don’t know your history, you’ll never be able to read the citizen’s band as the crow flies.
Oswald was used to hide a crime for which we have never found a System Restore switch behind the shadows of communist witch-hunting. By making spectacular arguments for race war, the ordeal of little Jimmy was smothered in rancor from the margins of black grievance. You’d think I would be ashamed to draw a comparison to Oswald, but I was framed for armed robbery after returning from the Governor’s School, tortured by hitmen named Pitman, Ronnie, Caspar, Ostro and Man/cine as a child. Their Jack Rubyisms about Arctaurus showed up at the Clubhouse this morning. I’m supposed to tell Yoko Ono that I rove her for the Karls; and Reagan had me in D.C. for the cross purpose of final precedence, death or exoneration, in his historical nightmare by Hollywood over-ride of reality, there with FEMA attorneys who caused the mental illness that Hillary bases her lies about Mt. Desert Island on, openly, with raucous sadism and mirth, Trump style.
SWAPO wanted to poison Mandela’s brain and then embark on a disturbed, bizarre, weird and eerie spectacle of discrediting him. Foreign English said no. Foreign English said he’ll think he’s better than us. We’ll do it instead in his interest to a sacrificial white then have him railing that Jimmy’s a Louie. Mayhem serves total victory for the AIDS Combine by masquerading as a stalemate.
Sex isn’t really that sinister, but it’s midnight oil.
I want to talk about what happened again so that although it is bound to evoke the response of done and what does it matter there should be in the midst of attempts to terrorize free speech an honest record of what was after all a world shattering cataclysm despite the inaction and nonchalance of the powerful. The root issue of course is the campus scene in Pittsburgh as effectively organized by pop artists through the Warhol Museum.
The theoretical possibility that I cudda recognized the danger and saved John Lennon is supposed to harmonize with denial that the letters meant anything and with failure to war about AIDS or arrest Gail Burstyn, just as the idea that cool people don’t want to hear excuses about whining, pathetic jealous boyfriends.
There was of course some problem with the political evidence assembled by King Crimson. I hadn’t hurt Leslie Katz. We had moved in trauma and tears from the situation in Highland Park, there were school records of mistreatment and disappearance, serious physical scars. Fripp however was clever enough to see the saleability of evil ingenuity despite requiring dishonesty on every level.
Those who betrayed the young largely had the support of the young due to marketing of attitude and solidarity with Yoko Ono. For a long time, suffering from a personality change chemical and terrible child brainwashing, I was drafted into an ideological opposition to oneself which came out in the Katz letter. We hate you for the same reason you obviously hate yourself, came the gyration. Sympathy for a victim of torture was far away. This primary solidarity was achieved by Frankenstein means, the sale of hate could then be called love with a pernicious incessance, and what does it matter now?
Everyone is sleeping through the blackout, quietly bemused that Jim Dispirito wunderkind from Rusted Root accomplished the séance of voodoo by rejecting the lover, and making off with a stolen wife. Church power showed that there was nothing fake about the moral supremacy of Godspell over the victims of HAIR. While I was accused of seeking oil, being the tin man, and having no heart, that wasn’t really the problem, as my girlfriends well know, nor was that their goal, I mean, I don’t have a heart anymore. The coup de grace, of Ultrahigh, that voice again, the Eno experiment in mind shattering, shows that humanism was outlawed under Reagan and he began bombing the children of the devil.
New York made an ugly stink, while setting up cop raping ripper homicide about an abused child going on to abuse, but they lacked a sufficiently scarifying victim. The impacted viturperative disorder had the name Burstyn from The Exorcist, and evoked the enemy within by the name of Caspar, the good Hitler, who would lesson the whimperer.
In light of the terrible gaslighting involved, the strange arrangement in D.C. when Brady was shot, the soundtrack and theme provided by Revolution No. 9, Double Fantasy, Just Like Starting Over and weird extreme Ayn Rand it really isn’t out of bounds to wonder if John Lennon got away. Either way, I don’t see how such cold, cold, reptile blood called be called Love in anything but song. They are hideous faceliars.
The sophomores of Mendoza won’t ever agreed. They are cheerleaders of a lynch mob that was scheduled for the AIDS test war game.
Black Hitlers for Reagan
The cosmic jest that accompanied population control from Sgt. Pepperland cannot and should not fill you confidence that the Royal syphilitics in London meant well by the wretched of the earth. Maybe you didn’t like the story of a bomb being disguised as a child’s toy to terrorize gooky civilians in the nobility of the Vietnam just war, but you gonna love what the Ku Klux Klan and Black Reagans for Hitler did to Marie’s grandson, while he was all tied up choking in the pussyball tourniquet, myuh.
Authors of Sexual Self-Destruct: The Conscience of the West, or their minions at large in the plantation here, foresaw they could hack into the subconscious for the impacting of neuroplastic suggestion to cause focus upon desired hypnotic ideas in the terrible trauma of post-pedophile hostage shock.
Gruesome and apoplexic was the foreign rabies of King Crimson as they gesticulating and ravenously leered that the deaf white suck, abused by terrifying so-called peers, just wanted a Shetland Pony, myuh. No one stepped forwards to tell Nancy Moore that something intolerable was done to her son, and so the police network has a blank check to do any dirty Peter Gabriel chooses, and of course, Dixon, ill, and Swapo Idi are watching.
The ghouls of murder and mayhem who crow that they are Amnesty International while raping and terrorizing from every Federal angle they can summon, come in all shades, Black and white, easily called to the beckon of the foreign English finger.
The Ultrahigh Onslaught: Trojan Horse or Shetland Pony?
Dear Mr. Crary,
I appreciate your bringing to my attention the concerns that you are dealing with in regards to the horrible acts that you endured as a child.
Mayor Wm. Peduto
City of Pittsburgh
Evidence in the murders of John Lennon and Martin Luther King emerged during an investigation into the origin of AIDS and has been confirmed to be exactly what was suspected: a testimonial by those who released AIDS. So the question from years of study of the inaction and avoidance by the F.B.I. as well as their reprisals and outright sabotage, comes out to be: was this a trick by the Beatles? And if not why did they rape, bomb, torture and murder to cover for it? We know now that they did just that. Accordingly, the conscription that they were indignant and that their revulsion expressed itself as inhuman hostility has ceased to persuade that their evil trickery on behalf of the perpetrators does not suggest joint authorship.
Despite the certainty of all of this, authorities have ignored the development.
There is too much distance between this lack of response and the magnitude of the crime. I believe a thorough investigation and prosecution is due and that suitable recognition and compensation for the mutilation crimes I suffered be forthcoming unconditionally.
It has been countered by collaborationists with the Onslaught from Ultrahigh that at the time I received the Burstyn letters I was a juvenile delinquent and have been hesitant to tell the full tale, involving kidnapping in stolen cars, and being used for sex by a police network of horrid pedophiles, because of fear of self-incrimination. This is a cover story meant to empower the British power structure to punish giving testimony by cruel abuse of a neurotrauma impacted for that purpose, while slurring me on campus as weird to gain a cloak permitting their viciousness. I was tortured horrifically and repeatedly, leaving me badly and irreversibly injured while the British pirates made this into a game and a cover up in a brutal attempt by fraud to punish accounting. This was also all planned. I remain hard at work giving testimony.
The Lennon assassination letters found during an investigation into the origin of AIDS have given the study of history an unexpected turn, profoundly tainted by the twisted public attitude authored by British poison that somehow this was an acceptable atrocity. We are at a crossroads of either hiding this development completely hoping it will disappear under their mockery into irrelevance or pursue the academic and legal challenge posed by this surreal revelation in the hopes of matching our talents against the mind-shattering implications.
Before I submit my grandfather Ward’s work history for review, I want to point out that Bush invented the queerbait persona used to create a traumatized child into a weapon that his fascist allies could aim at the Post-Dispatch in seeking dismissal of the grievance he mocked loudly. Dissatisfied with covering for the AIDS war, The Beatles broke into my home, sabotaged by marriage bed, raped my sign language teacher, stole my bride, chemically castrated me and incited cruel public jeers on my head in an ordeal of vanquishment bereft lasting over twenty years, a very vicious thing to do to a deaf victim of neurotrauma.
It appears likely now, in evaluation of very strange evidence, that I was a present, a head in a box, presented to Yoko Ono by Lennon in absentia. How can I justify that? Look at the perniciousness of the strange motif? Look at the Ayn Rand film with a lookalike of Burstyn covering her ears in the atomic warning gesture captioned with the words of Lennon’s last song? The semiotics are horrendously consistent. Somehow in the seven boxes of hope destroyed by Clinton’s SS, my life’s work, my grandfather’s work history survived. You think pornography would have offended my grandmother? These murderers splattered Carnegie Mellon with the head of the beautiful fetus they contracted an attack prostitute to produce for that purpose, while I was blissfully in love and in rapture with the dream that somehow by luck my King Crimson daydreams had led to the love of my life, while Sir McCartney was snickering that the Irish suck had finally gotten his Shetland Pony.
Robert Fripp used Leslie Katz for his ends. Strange to say there is an ugly scene in Lennon’s Oswald Moseley film, “How I Won the War,” with blood running down his chin lewdly. Greg Karl in his Fable Analysis paper about the structural discipline behind the AIDS war game Two Virgins, a coded album title, wrote, “the listener is led through a bewildering myriad of surface details to arrive at the fundamental themes.” How can one not shudder that the innocent Korean girl Fripp had brutally raped is named Chini in knowing the pretext Leslie provided by her vagina monologue over the nectar of virginity. What gives with these hideous rippers? It was long planned is what gives.
The Beatles always said that it was them against the world. The facts show that The Beatles, as a monstrosity, started AIDS.
Ward’s work history:
At the start of my work career, there was a generation of professional nomads known as “tramp reporters” and “tramp printers.” Just ahead of that generation there was one of ranch workers known on the ranges as “fiddle footed saddle bums.” Thus my ancestry is established.
1921—Started work as printer’s devil, janitor, ad and news hustler on Ottawa (KS) Weekly World in May: employed as cub reporter on Topeka (KS) Daily Capital in September.
1922-23-Reporter and copy editor on Daily Capital until December, then went to Atlanta Constitution.
1924-Hired on at AP in April and was assigned to Montgomery, AL, as capital correspondent; returned to Kansas as reporter on Daily Capital in November.
1925-State House and Legislative reporter for Daily Capital until November, then went to Oklahoma City Times as reporter and copy editor.
1926-Went to Kansas City Star in February; then to AP as wire filing editor in September; and in December to Cleveland Press.
1927-Went to Ashtabula (O) as city editor of the Star-Beacon in May.
1928—To Birmingham (AL) News in February as general assignment reporter; to Marion (AL) in short-lived partnership on weekly newspaper; returned to Birmingham on Post as reporter and copy editor in early fall.
1929- On Birmingham Post until October; then to Wichita as telegraph editor of Evening Eagle.
1930-To Wichita Beacon in January; to Arkansas City (KS) Traveler as city editor.
1931- Back to Wichita as telegraph editor of Beacon in January; then to Protection (KS) in another short-lived partnership in a brace of weeklies.
1932- Sold at Protection in May; nine months without a job in which I tried without success to sell life insurance.
1933- Returned to Beacon as telegraph editor in February.
1934- Went to St. Louis Star-Times as copy editor.
1935- Hired by Post-Dispatch radio station to set up first news room in October.
1936- Full year as news editor of KSD radio.
1937- Went to Cincinnati Post as telegraph editor. Remained on that job until
1940- Transferred to city news staff as business and industrial reporter.
1941-Hired by Cincinnati Chamber of Commerce as manager of civic affairs department in January, and spent much of winter and spring bird-dogging Ohio Legislature.
1942- Went with Office of War Information as information officer in charge of branch of Cincinatti, O., in May; returned to Cincinnati in October as supervisor of public relations for Branch plant of Wright Aeronautical Corp.
1943-Went to Miami (FL) in November as telegraph editor. Remained there until August of
1945-Returned to St. Louis as copy editor and swing relief man of Post-Dispatch in August. Remained on P-D in variety of work assignments until
1950-Back to Topeka in May as news editor of Daily Capital. There until
1952- Left Capital in a messy explosion of conflict, involving differences of opinion over whether news editor’s function was to put out good newspaper on time or indulge in a lot of back-scratching and image-making which I considered the job of an overload of executive drones. Went to Tulsa (OK) Tribune in March; returned to St. Louis Post-Dispatch in May, where I remained in variety of sub-supervisory jobs, including nine year stint as night wire news editor, until
1968-Returned to Topeka, where Mrs. Moore and I met and married in the fall of 1923, to finish out retirement in city with some more amenities, better transportation, etc., which we considered important to two people on the downhill side of 75.
At time I broke in, J-schools were just arriving on the horizon. The city desk usually ruled by a hard-nose, was the instructor in those days.
I could not be hired on any newpaper I know anything about today because of my lack of academic credentials—not even a high school diploma.
Pet peeves—Sloppy use of words leading to ambiguities, and advocacy journalism which is assumed to justify slanting stories to suit the objectives of the write.
Things to forget and things to strive for—Forget about objectivity (what is it?); strive mightily to always be fair and factual.
Something to beware—Never confuse facts with truth. Facts are concrete and supportable. Truth is something that we hope eventually will emerge from an assemblage of facts, but it may never suit our purpose.