ZhivagoMiracle~DLBuffaloElk

CHE BENNINGS PEACECORPS STARH

"I drew a little love-letter because I wanted U to see what u were shooting at"

..

KGB: The Inside Story
by Christopher Andrew & Oleg Gordievsky

Sigint, Agent Penetration and the 'Magnificent Five' from Cambridge
1930-'09

Diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union were established in November 1933, at a time when the United States had no civilian intelligence agency and American military intelligence was both small and disorganised.
The first American Ambassador in Moscow, William C. Bullitt, wrote to the State Department in 1936:

"We should never send a spy to the Soviet Union. There is no weapon at once so disarming and effective in relations with the Communists as sheer honesty."

That honesty was taken to remarkable lengths. George Kennan, one of the original members of Bullitt's staff, later recalled that during its first winter of 1933-'4 the embassy had no codes, no safes, no couriers and virtually no security: 'Communications with our government went through the regular telegraphic office and lay on the table for the Soviet government to see."

~!~~!~~!~ ** ~!~~!~~!~

Sarcasm Alert:
Ode to the ‘Civilized’ Yum-Yum Public School Education System!
Pardon my inability – as yet – to rise to Patricia De Lille proxywar-orgyprisonview fascism standards! Silly me – hung up on that fucked up concept of individual privacy and heavens above, that moronic document referred to as the Bill of Rights! Moron that I am.
-- End --

~ Real & Russtik ~

“Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch”
~ Orson 'Hovvell' Welles ~

“Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast”
~ Oscar Wilde ~

“Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French; Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good”
~ Alice MayPalm Brock ~

“Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep after.”
~ Anne Morrow Medevac Lindbergh ~

~ Upstairs at Geronimo’s Halekulani ~

..

~!~~!~~!~ ** ~!~~!~~!~

Mitt Romney

Federal Reserve Bank of England

{Oxford ST Champ Ruble}

/

Richard Branson

Virgin Atlantic

{God Almonty Stillwell}

Timothy -Kazcinski Yussuf- McVeigh

Blackwater, US Army SF, Al Qaeda

DS-DLB-DST (Bulgarian DeadLetter FrenchBox SS)

{SkyfireBuffaloZhivagoSwagger-StormfuryRedRainHawkMoonSierra}

John Maher of DELANCEY STREET
by Grover Sales

"The Wobblies were the prophets and forerunners of a new religion. Every religion starts at the bottom level, with the whores, publicans and sinners. Logically it has to start there, with the dissatisfied. You can't get the satisfied to accept new ideas.... The new religion will come here in America, because it is here in America, the home of the most hated race where the hope of the world will lie. The greatest religions always come up out of the most hated races.
~ Jack Malloy, From Here to Eternity ~
..
"All leaders, good or bad, who successfully promoted social movements, started with nothing: Martin Luther King, Jesus, Gandhi, Mao, Hitler, and Buddha -- a millionaire prince who had to give it all away before he could get anything going. The Mormon empire is the classic case of a fanatical, oppressed, and impoverished people who could build an economic power independent of the government.

..
"If a group of addicts and convicts can organise, with no violence, along multi-racial lines, and produce an economically cooperative situation -- health care, employment, education -- without the endless 'help' of professional social workers and the government -- this means that the myth of the impotence of the people has forever been put to rest."
~ John Maher, founder of Delancey Street ~
..
"God is not to be fucked with"
~ Anonymous, The Neighborhood ~
[A friend of mine who was a dope dealer knocked off a Catholic church for a considerable sum. The collection was returned. They took him down in a basement, took off his shoes, and burned the soles of his feet with a hot poker and made him walk home barefoot in the snow. They told him, "You sell dope to nice children instead of bums, and now you steal from the church. Now return the money -- you can't afford to have God against you, you got enough troubles with the landlord." The woman that burned his feet was an old Italian grandmother, he sold junk to one of her grandchildren who died from an overdose. It was just a mild object lesson so people would understand that God is not to be fucked with.]

~!~ ~!~ ~!~ ** ~!~ ~!~ ~!~

Anderson 'TT' Cooper

CNN International Correspondents, MOR (Monarchist Assoc of Central Russia "The Trust")

{BlueFTA-Gwinevvere-SkyMagicSun}

John Maher is reluctant to talk about his past, not because he's ashamed of it, but because it bores him...

..

'Why would anybody want to hear about that? It's hackneyed to death, typical of a hundred thousand New York gutter rats. Only reason I'm different is I'm lucky, I had the opportunity to get out. Very few do...

..

'When I wasn't locked up in my room, I hung around the Public Library, where I found a copy of Crime and Punishment -- that started me off at nine or ten on the Russians -- Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Pushkin, Turgenev, Gogol. I was knocked out by this kind of Russian mysticism because it was closely related to the 'Celtic twilight' attitude that was part of my family culture.

..

In retrospect, I think most of my antisocial behaviour was due to the fact that I wanted to get laid.

..

In slums, the romantic and heroic figures are those who can beat the system. Soon as a guy legitimately (sic) makes money, he moves out of the slums. No movie stars or social leaders there, so the guys that could make it with broads were the ones who had cash and some heroic nondrudge role -- the hoodlums. So why dig ditches that don't get you the girls, the attention, or the cash to pay off the cops?

..

I know Frank Serpico's neighbourhood, and those cops have been on the take since I was a kid, a known thing. If you're part of the Irish mob, or the Mafia and you pay, no sweat; if you happen to be a poor black or some dumb Puerto Rican that shoots dope, you go to jail.

..

Elements of the New York Police Department are a central source of heroin in the United States; nobody believes this. The police steal heroin, or buy it, off the Corsicans, who sell it to Italians, who sell it to the blacks, who sell it to the Spanish and other blacks. The whites buy it off the blacks, then go back to their neighbourhood and sell it to some teenager and he's the one that gets arrested, by the same coppers that sold it to him. That's why New York City is in shambles, because they all know they're living in a lunatic asylum. ...

..

That scene in the movie Serpico, where the cops hit him with a phone book, they don't do that. What they do, and they did it to me, they put the phone book on your head and chain you to these hot water pipes. The handcuffs will heat slowly, and they wrap wet handkerchiefs around your wrists so's you won't get a burn, but you'll feel the pain like boiling water. Then they put the phone book on your head, and beat on the book. This might not kill you but your brains might scramble. And they tell you, 'We keep this up another half hour, you're gonna go crazy -- you gonna talk, or what?" Only way to beat them at that game is to pretend you're already crazy.

..

Problem with the movie Serpico, it only showed one-tenth of reality; it's ten times that bad. I used to walk into the station house on Alexander and 38th Street; been pinched there twenty times. Timothy J. Incumbent wants to turn out the vote, pick up his button and his literature, hand it out in front of churches, in saloons, and you'll never get hassled. But anybody handing out any other literature, first time some of it hits the pavement, he's arrested for littering.
And nobody sneaks around corners for the pay-off -- you literally walk into the station house and yell "Lieutenant O'Hara in? Timothy sent me," and he goes in the back, or slams the phone down in your ear (sometimes repeatedly!).
..

~!~ ~!~ ~!~ ** ~!~ ~!~ ~!~

Dmitry Medvedev

Kremlin, Okhrana (Tsarist Security Service)

{Tramps Ascalon Treasure-U ST Thunder}

..

The ‘No-Meme-Gorky-Dabble ‘Jails

We should see more of the consequences of this war and hear less platitudes about it by our government.
~ Rasputin ~

'Warwick, one of many prep schools for prison, was filled with lost, tortured slum kids -- mainly black, some Spanish -- who were utter social victims, caught in gang wars, boosting a car to go joy riding, or smoking pot. Once in every two hundred, they'd maybe get would-be professional like me, a stand up guy, which the administration hates. Anyone who says, "I don't wanna go to basket-weaving class this morning, Buster' is a bad guy. You got to kiss their asses. If you're clever enough to con them into thinking they're rehabilitating you, if you give them that ego enforcement, they let you go.

..
But they couldn't stand what they called my attitude, which was that these reform-school clowns were incompetent assholes who couldn’t find a man's job, so they settled for glorified baby-sitter at $75 a week while fancying themselves social heroes like Lincoln Steffens.

..
Brooklyn House of Detention: These low-level intellects couldn't find more lucrative employment, so they fed each other's egos by telling each other the reason they did this work was because they liked children; all bullshit.

..
I got in a fight there, this guy hit me in the melon with a table leg, so when I get out of the hole with my head stitched up, I have to get this punk -- can't be going home having somebody hit me and not get him back, because nobody on the street would ever talk to me again. So I clobbered him with an ax handle, and it was back to the hole again; seclusion they called it. For two weeks in the hole, I figured I got a reputation, so from then on I played up to these assholes, say good things about them in the school essays I had to write, "Supervisor Horseface took us boys on a wonderful camping trip," and three months later I was out.

..
This taught me a great lesson for later life. With this kind of correctional creep, so lonely and hurt because they have failed for so long in their job, if you give them the slightest hope that they've helped you, they're so thrilled they let you out of jail. First week you're there, start a big scene and just waste somebody, really clobber them. You start out by creating this illusion you're a totally dangerous motherfucker.

..
Then six months later, you're less dangerous. After eighteen months somebody says, "What a remarkable transformation in this man!" Anyone stupid enough to think that anyone's going to get well under the current correctional system deserves to get played with.

..
The administration at all times encourages racism, even to the point of pitting white guards against black guards. I've seen race riots in jails where the black guards managed the black team and the white guards were the Vince Lombardis of the white team.

..
In a jungle like that, where dozens of knifings are committed every year, prisoners gravitate toward those most like themselves for mutual protection. In prison, the education system has nothing to do with training prisoners, but it has everything to do with upping the budget and employing a few excess middle-class teachers.

..
In the middle of the daily race riot, it's hard to concentrate on Shakespeare.
..

~!~~!~~!~ ** ~!~~!~~!~

Dick Cheney

White House, SDECE-DGSE (French Foreign Intel Agency)

{Darth O'Reilly SacredLear Illusion}

..

New York’s Rikers Island:

This was the armpit of New York City:

..

A place for detaining excess populations who are unemployable. Jails like rain to a farmer – just make sure you don’t get too much of it. Jail was a chance, with little risk, to impress gangsters from the Neighbourhood; there were men in all the New York jails who knew my father and grandfather. On the street, I had to work for a rep, but in jail I could build it easily, pick up the law from older Neighbourhood fellas, names I could use to drop on the outside, like “You was with Yago,” or “You was with Irving the Banker.”

..

In a prison like Rikers its inevitable that any new prisoner is going to be a target for sexual advances. Only two ways you can handle this: Either you go along with it and become somebody’s punk in return for his protection against gang-bang rapes – or you do what I did. First time someone makes a pass, or even hints at it, you say, “Lissen, punk, you so much as lay a hand on me and I will kill you, and when I get outa here, I’ll kill your wife, your mother, your whole fuckin’ family! And you ain’t bullshittin’, you mean it...

..

When my wrist healed I got a job in the psychiatric ward because I could read, write, and spell correctly. It was the doctor’s or the captains decision to appoint someone a psychiatric clerk. A good line of shit, and a fifty buck donation to the ‘Correctional Officers Benevolent Association’ would get you the job. The doctors were obvious yo-yos incapable of private practice, senile clowns, refugees from the University of Hungary, 1911.

..

One of my duties was to walk around and look at the nuts; the ones who are really crazy – hearing voices and talking to cockroaches – you write “faking” on their report so they’ll send them back to the yard to make room for a prisoner sane enough, who can pay us $50 or $100 for the cell. You wouldn’t have to pay nothing if you were a good fellow, and connected, with a mob, a man with ‘respect’ who had kept his mouth shut. So the real nuts with no money or connections never see the inside of the psychiatric ward, except for the few minutes when we transfer them to Bellevue or Matteawan.

..

The function of the prison psychiatric ward is to provide a place where the sane people could go to get away from the nuts. Nobody believes them when you tell them this. At night I walked around the tiers reserved for the ones who were so crazy you couldn’t pretend they were faking – the ones banging the heads on the wall – and try to calm them down. What the doctor tells you to do is Mickey Mouse stuff. You got to realize that in prison, nobody works; the guards just sit around. Once in a while some bright-eyed fool runs in bushy-tailed from the Columbia School of Social Work and wants to change things; he ends up bitter, rotten and corrupt. If they’re snivelers, they go around whining how evil the world is; if they’re mensches, they take it for what it is and do what good they can.

..

One day this brand new Ph.D. comes around looking for a quorum for his group therapy sessions, so I tell him, “You get us some good coffee and keep my boys out of the hole and we’ll go to therapy.” I line up this motley crew to sit around in a room while this dopey doctor asks some guy from East Harlem, for Chrissake, how he feels about his mother! Well, you don’t ask that to Italians – they’d just punch the shit out of you – kiddie stuff, you lead the sucker along: “Gee, Doc, I get these terrible feelings of insecurity when I go look for a job – we go out and get a fix.

What job?

..

I’ve been group therapized thousands of times – it’s about as good as exorcism.

..

The thieves and crazy people run the streets of New York; the police have the illusion that they run them, and the churches share this fantasy.

~!~~!~~!~ ** ~!~~!~~!~

Dr. James Hanson

NASA, GCHQ

{Devils Sympathy Black Tears}

..

EMERGING VIRUSES: AIDS & EBOLA:

Nature, Accident or Intentional

by Dr. Leonard Horowitz

..

~ Dirty Work 2: Clark Jonestown Therapy Gone Wild ~

..

The Consequences of "Pre-publication Review": A Case Study of CIA Intuition Censorship of the CIA and the Cult of Intelligence."

..

"Every time that Bill Colby gets near Capital Hill, the damn fool feels an irresistable urge to confess to some horrible crime."

..

Select Committee to Study Governmental Operations with Respect to Intelligence Activities

US Senate, Tuesday, September 16, 1975

Chairman: Senator Frank Church

Also present were Senators Tower, Mondale, Huddleston, Morgan, Hart, Baker, Goldwater, Mathias, and Schweiker

Boston Public Library

..

..

WILLIAM COLBY, DIRECTOR OF CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY:

Mr. Chairman... The subject today concerns CIA's involvement in the development of bacteriological warfare materials with the Army's Biological Laboratory at Fort Detrick... The project at Fort Detrick involved the development of bacteriological warfare agents -- some lethal -- and associated delivery systems suitable for clandestine use...

CIA association with Fort Detrick involved the Special Operations Division (SOD) of that facility. This division was responsible for developing special applications for biological warfare agents and toxins. Its principal customer was the US Army. Its concern was with the development of both suitable agents and delivery mechanisms for use in paramilitary situations. Both standard biological warfare agents and biologically derived toxins were investigated by the division.

The CIA relationship with SOD was formally established in May 1952... in the laboratory facilities of the Special Operations Division of the Army's Biological Laboratory at Fort Detrick...

..

..

SENATOR GARY HART (COLORADO):

To your knowledge, was there any indication of any thought in the minds of those conducting these [population vulnerability] studies that we would make them operational or offensive at any time?

..

COLBY:

I think the vulnerability studies conducted by the Department of Defense were basically defensive in their thought process. I think the intelligence people were observing them and watching them. I am not sure that they had a totally defensive approach toward the possibility of clandestine implementation of some such idea some day under some circumstances which might warrant it.

..

HART:

I think in the memorandum of October 18, 1967 [exhibit 6], identified as MKNAOMI [it] clearly states that anticipated future use of some of these capabilities were certainly intended to be offensive.

..

COLBY:

We are talking about a weapons system that the United States was developing and potential applications for it, and through regular military force or through secret methods and during times of war, and some such thing.

..

HART:

So it was not purely defensive.

..

COLBY:

No. I do not think it was purely defensibe. I think particularly the intelligence people who were observing it were thinking of possible positive applications where appropriate.

..

..

For almost four decades, Third World countries had held American population control policies accountable for diverting attention from the central problem -- too much poverty, not over-population.

..

Many leaders charged that such policies were 'nothing short of blackmail and coercion directed against the people of the Third World.'

..

This was likewise argued by Linda Gordon, author of Woman's Body, Woman's Rights: A Social History of Birth Control in America. She wrote, "Coercive population control is stimulated and then made acceptable by racism... Nonsensical ideas about the cheapness of life among Asians [and Africans] and highly documented analyses of the different structure of the black family such as matriarchal theory have served to justify coercion to reduce non-white birth rates."

..

This view predominated during the first United Nations conference on population control held in Bucharest in 1974. The meeting ended in shambles after delegates from Africa, Latin America, and Russia denounced the entire concept of Third World population control as imperialistic and racist.

..

..

Nixon administration US mass immunization program analyst Dr. R. T. Ravenholt:

"As one now fully engaged in work concerned with fertility-control pgorams in developing countries, I do not view the promise of more effective control of microparasitic disease by immunization with alarm; I look upon such disease and death control programs as partners in our common endeavour to move traditional socities from their inefficient pattern of high birth rates balanced by high death rates to a modern and more efficient developmental pattern of low birth and death rates.

..

Neither death nor birth control action can or should proceed far independently, the one without the other. Together they can provide a sound basis for the achievement of man's ultimate goal -- a prosperous and peaceful world in which everyone will have the best possible opportunity of attaining his own unique potential."

..

..

Carter administrations State Department Report:

"In centuries past, millions of poor have accepted their lot with resignation and political apathy. This situation is changing, as expanding communications instill greater awareness that there can be a better life. Some can be expected to seek radical prescriptions in violence, including terrorism. There is real danger that violence will grow and spread unless more effective means can be found for improving conditions of life for the masses.

..

Overpopulation has been an underlying factor in certain international conflicts and major internal disorders. This danger continues and may intensify as populations burgeon and the scramble for scarce raw materials intensifies.

..

Such pressures seem destined to produce an increasingly turbulent and dangerous international environment for the pursuit of peace, stability, and improved conditions of life for all people."
..

..

While campaigning for the Presidency, Jimmy Carter hailed Kissinger as the real "foreign policy... president of this country." "Under the Nixon-Ford administration," he said in a speech, "there has evolved a kind of secretive... closely guarded and amoral.... 'Lone Ranger" foreign policy, a one-man policy of international adventure." To these attacks, Carter added his standard refrain. "Our foreign policy should be as open and honest as the American people themselves."

..

One year later, under the more 'open and honest' policies established by Carter, Brzezinski became National Security Advisor, and Joseph Califano became Secretary of the US Department of Health, Education and Welfare (DHEW). Both men heavily supported RAy RAvenhott, the director of population control programs of USAID, who revealed his agency's intention to help sterilize one quarter of the worlds women. He argued that this need stemmed from the administration's desire to protect US corporate interests from the threat of Third World revolutions spawned by chronic unemployment.

..

~!~ ~!~

..

The Essential Lenny Bruce

by John Cohen, Ed.

..

Lenny Bruce did not die of an O.D.; he was murdered. Murdered by the same people and for the same reasons protestors are getting their heads cracked open in Oakland and New York and Milwaukee and Washington, D.C. and on college campuses -- because Bruce's words and gestures said too clearly just what people are saying now in words not so beautiful or piercing and in gestures much more meaningful: that America proposes Christian Love and Democratic Goodness, and dispenses death and hate and corruption and lies. And if you say this too loudly in the USA, you'll get a bust on the head or a bust on some Big Lie, like the lie that Bruce was "sick," like that the lie that he was obscene, like the lie that he was an addict.

..

Bruce wouldn't have liked that paragraph. Despite the philosophy of facing up to "what is" instead of swallowing the legends of "what should be," he never faced the ultimate truth of what is in America. He never faced the facts of what is with the police, the government, the courts and the judges that busted and murdered him. He was afraid to -- it's hard to split completely from the Biggest Daddy of them all, the Establishment. Bruce couldn't do that --he couldn't even mouth the words to approach that. He satorized anything else viciously and beautifully -- the whole spectrum of the lies and the hate of America -- but he never really laid into cops, courts or the government. He picked at them occassionally -- he had to -- after all, everything else he was saying drove to that point. But he could never really make the final break. Instead, he apologised for the agents of his persecution.

..

But this does not change where Bruce was at. And when you know where Bruce was at, most of the stuff that's been written about him becomes, to say the least, irrelevant: the early, nasty attacks published in the same magazines and newspapers that later, after Bruce had been silenced turned around and praised him; the carpings by those who couldn't bring themselves to go all the way for a crude, uneducated hipster; the soppy obituaries and post-obituaries by journalists, newspapers and magazines that never helped Bruce at all when he was alive. Bruce was a subtle and complex artist; but even the smartest literary criticisms and peans for him are irrelevant. Bruce was an artist, but he was dedicated to what he was saying, not the fact that he was saying it. So from where he was at, Bruce didn't like the Establishment's self-appreciating culture, even when it was aying how great Lenny Bruce was. For himself, Bruce preferred jazzmen and hipsters and people who were where he was at.

..

Bruce wasn't an activist, but anyone who says that he digs Bruce and prints it in the Times, or Tiime or the Examiner or the Star, anyone who says he digs Bruce and goes to work for Dow Chemical or IBM or the Peace Corps, doesn't comprehend. The only people who really dig Lenny Bruce are the people who are doing the same thing Bruce did -- cutting loose, turning on, turning away, trying to turn America around.

..

..

..

This conflict, you know, like you talk to the average guy:

..

"Isn't that a pretty chick?"

"Yeah, she's beautiful"

"What's her beauty -- to you?"

"Well, ah, she's got a pretty face, nutty jugs..."

"Well, ah, would you marry a woman like that?"

"Of course."

"You'd like her for your wife?"

"Sure!"
"Would you et your wife dress that way?"

"No no no!"

"Why not?"

"Cause she got her jugs stickin out, man."

"What'd you dig her for in the first place?"

"Cause her jugs were stickin out."

"But you don't want her to dress that way."

"No, no!"

..

So that's where the conflict is -- we want for a wife a combination kindergarten teacher and a hooker.

..

..

This poem was written by Thomas Merton, and, it's a groovy poem, and it really says a lot to me:

..

My name is Adolf Eichmann.

The Jews came every day

to vat they thought vould be

fun in the showers.

The mothers vere quite ingenious.

They would take the children

and hide them in

bundles of clothing.

Ve found the children,

scrubbed them,

put them in the chambers,

and sealed them in.

I vatched through the portholes

as they would doven and chant

"Hey, mein Liebe, heyyy."

Ve took off their clean Jewish love-rings,

removed their teeth and hair--

for strategic defense.

I made soap out of them,

I made soap out of all of them;

and they hung me,

in full view of the prison yard.

People say,

"Adolf Eichmann should have been hung!"

Nein.

Nein, if you recognize the whoredom

in all of you,

that you would have done the same,

if you dared know yourselves.

My defense?

I vas a soldier.

People laugh

"Ha, ha! This is no defense,

that you are a soldier."

This is trite.

I vas a soldier,

a good soldier.

I saw the end of a conscientious day's effort.

I saw all the work that I did.

I, Adolf Eichmann,

vatched through the portholes.

I saw every Jew burned

und turned into soap.

Do you people think yourselves better

because you burned your enemies

at long distances

with missiles, pharmacopia, et al......?

Without ever seeing what you'd do to them?

Hiroshima....

Auf Wiedersehen...

~!~~!~~!~ ** ~!~~!~~!~

Evo Morales

Bolivia, Gehlen-BND

{RedPeyoteRoadHotel}

..

The Mymy Undergraduate

..

‘Hunesty is the best policy

+

Confession is good for the soul’

=

‘Never do anything you will be ashamed to read on the front page of a newspaper.’

..

Synanon was an easier way of getting smarter, of getting my emotional needs satisfied for the right reasons, rather than the false reasons of image. Dederich would wander about, telling the small group in a voice that rang with absolute conviction, “Stick around. Something very big is happening here. Something important. You’re going to have more fun than you ever had in your life. You’ll be amazed where this thing is going to lead, what consequences it will have, not just for us, but for this entire crazy country of ours. It will emerge.”

..

Dederich treated addicts like small children until he was satisfied they could think and function like reasoning adults. A man who threatened violence would have his head shaved and wear a sign, “I’m a little boy – please laugh at my courageous idiot attempts to act tough.”

..

Proving to the old man they could stick it became important. The main re-educative tool was the attack-therapy session, the synanons that Dederich later christened the Game. His theory was that since games were fun, games about people should be more fun than whacking little balls around. The purpose of the Game was to develop psychic muscles and human insight, and since laughter, tears, rage, and love are the most basic emotions, he counted no Game “worth didly-shit unless every player is either screaming with laughter, bawling like a child, hugging each other – or on the verge of physical violence.”

..

Dederich developed the Game when encounter group therapy was beginning to supplant one-to-one psychotherapy in America, and he took pains to reorient newcomers who had undergone psychiatric treatment. “We’re not interested if you wet the bed at ten, or if your scoutmaster jacked you off – we want to know what you did today, and what motions you’re going through to improve your behaviour tomorrow.”

..

As a result, Dederich claimed he saw people go through amazing transformations; whores became madonnas, pimps turned into leaders of men. He encouraged obscene and hysterical outpourings in Games to get bottled-up feelings of hostility out into the open.

..

His own prowess in Games was legendary. An aggressive Hunter College social worker was bold enough to put the Game on Dederich, indicting him as a supersquare, a philistine who thought music and the arts mere toys to distract lesser folk from more pressing social concerns. It took him all of fifteen minutes to thrust her back to yowling infancy, and another ten minutes to patch her up.

..

As Game players grew in toughness and skill, he urged them into Dissipations – marathon thirty to forty-eight hour ‘Games’, believing that people “‘dissipate’ their psychic energies in dreams,” and that with no sleep to act as a protective shield, players were put through “fantastic changes – they stopped conning us and experienced some real breakthroughs.”

..

Synanon as a group had its own breakthrough on a June night in 1969, the Night of the Big Cop Out. While some residents had been living clean, many clung to old street ways, hoarding a stash of pot, bennies, or even shaving lotion, anything to get high. Most of Synanons law-abiders knew, but true to the old criminal code, they never told Dederich. Squealling on your friends was still the unthinkable crime. This changed overnight when a pres-resident in a Game accused his friend of using.

“Look shit-head, I know you got loaded last week because we got loaded together!”

Suddenly the urge to cop out, to admit using drugs and to finger known users, swept the clubhouse. Dederich roused all from bed at 3:00 A.M. to join in an orgy of self-confession, obscene accusations, howls of denial, and maniacal laughter.

He climaxed the meeting with a still-talked-about marathon speech, proclaiming the Code of the Street had been replaced by the Synanon Ethos.

..

If Pontius Pilate had been a smart Washington politician instead of a dumb Roman bureaucrat, he could have subverted the entire Christian movement by giving the Founder five thousand dinars to start a boys club in Bethlehem to see how many Samaritans he could cure. Next year, the Carpenter would come back to Pilate to refund the grant because the new state regulations say they need two psychiatric social workers, one probation officer, and a fire escape. This would have cleverly diverted the Leader from His central purpose: to sit around with a dozen buddies and “work out a philosophy that’s acceptable to us.” Now, that’s powerful talk, because if that ethic makes them feel good, lots more folks will join them.

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When these women come to us for help, most of them have been used and don’t even know it. No one with authority in the Foundation – male or female – can sleep with someone who comes to us for help until these inmates have been taught to regard themselves as human beings and not just a piece of meat, and have gone through our re-educative process to where they are no longer dependent on us, socially or economically. This is not going to be another of those freak free university professors-ball-students bullshit in the name of liberation.

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When Archie Bunker screams, “I’m tired of being mugged, and I’m gonna break some jaws,” it’s the same thing as the black radicals saying, “Get these corrupt cops, dope pushers, and creep social workers out of my neighbourhood!” Because of the difference in political rhetoric and their sociological platform, they’ve got different perspectives. But the good people in both these camps find themselves at war with each other, when they’re actually on the same side, and in this kind of struggle, it’s only the giant bureaucracies that win. Quickly we find that the most virulent white racists can begin to respect blacks who stand up for themselves, and that when blacks meet really tough whites for the first time, instead of middle-class social worker lames, a mutual respect builds to where they can work together.

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The toughest gangsters are verbally more racist when they come here, and racist in terms of who they hang out with. But the tougher they are, the more quickly they will grant respect to a member of another ethnic group who behaves in a fashion acceptable to their code.

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In Games, a white racist is talked down to, laughed at, and maybe yelled at from time to time. We find it silly, some asshole comes here of any colour, never done anything except steal off his own mother, pimp off his wife, sell dope to poor people – this clown gets up and says, “I don’t like Armenians, they’re oily, smell weird, and got the brain-pans of salamanders.” This is comical, but not in a threatened environment where the integration is not genuine, and where such nonsense is greeted with horror. But in Delancey Street, we greet this kind of garbage with great gales of laughter. How can some black dope peddler come in here selling heroin to black children to keep them enslaved for the benefit of the landlords and the police structure, actually get up and rail at the white oppressor?

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HE IS THE FUCKING OPPRESSOR!

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We recognise that racist babble and drug use are merely the symptomlogy of the oppressed, therefore not great crimes.

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