♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 1
CHAPTER 7 (i)
… on the dark sky, a few diamonds-like stars glimmer, then disappear through
the uncontrollable, apparently meaningless movements of the ominous clouds – the
dice fall, numbers are marked. Yet, while the vast ceiling of this realm has become
dark, and the inquietant swells and convulsions of the clouds indifferently obstruct
any glimpse of any possible, fundamental, universe-wide architectural regularities
or meaningful traffic, the Adagio is unstoppably flowing, an even, chronometer’s
even, tranquil, majestic, grave pulsation that percolates, ripples through all known
dimen-sions – and the stars glimmer, then disappear, then glimmer again through
the un-controllable, indifferent, apparently meaningless movements of the dark, billowing
clouds, as the Adagio continues its tranquil, even, grave and all encompassing motion
– the dice fall, numbers are marked…
“Now, regarding your anus – wow, look! triple penetration, anal-oral-vaginal!
Wow! Cool! Look! Wow! Folks, this is Pamela Choi, American feminist, and here you
see how Pamela has full blast sex with two hundred sixty-nine men in a seven hours
session – TWO-HUNDRED-FIFTY-ONE-MEN-IN-A-TEN-HOURS-SESSSI-ON!” a man excitedly says.
“Three ways, anal-oral-vaginal! Wow! now look at this! And here’s more! Wow!
Now look at this! Wow! Oh, man, there you go!”
The majestic, even, grave, metronome-like pulsation percolating the beginningless
universe is fading away, through the dark, billowing clouds covering the sky have
started appearing a few tiny, shy, twinkling stars, more stars, then more of them,
they start growing in larger and larger spots of warm light…
“Wow! Now double vaginal penetration and still going three ways! Wow! Look at
this! Doing two hundred sixty-seven men in seven hours! Look! Wow! Look!” – and the
spots of twinkling lights have became a multitude of flickering television screens,
those so much awaited messengers of hope, the cathode tubes! Yes, they are here,
dozens of sparkling screens on a wide console in a low-lit monitors room of a large
TV Center, churning a kaleidoscopic cascade of splinters of adultered, cloned reality
– sit-coms, episodes of series, talk-shows, news, interviews, commercials, films,
and so on and so forth.
And there, sitting at the console, is Jim Ignatowsky, who seems to have quit
his taxi driver job and gotten eventually a real job, as a TV editor, and in the
midst of the low-keyed swarm of voices, sounds and images, slumped in his chair,
a coffee cup in hand, weary and be-draggled he is watching the monitors – behind
him, enigmatically
♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 2
smiling by a water dispenser two child-sized Russian dolls, delivery instructions
tickets tacked on their heads.
“Wow! This is great TV, Pamela’s doing double vaginal penetration!” – on a moni-tor
screen, some shots from a porno film: a young Asian woman, her white, naked body
lying on a padded podium, legs with pointed feet spread in the air, closely sur-rounded
by a swarm of naked, sweaty men fondling her, screwing her at turns from various
angles – now a TV host is interviewing her in a studio ambience, the woman is contently
smiling, answering, their chatter is spliced with other shots from her film:
“Well, folks, this is Pamela, and she is a powerful woman, in control of her
body and mind, and her film should be understood as a vigorous celebration of womanhood
– wow! Look at that line of naked guys stroking their dicks! all those guys are waiting
for their turn!”
“Welcome to the lube country – those guys are in neutral now,” Pamela explains:
“They need to keep stroking their dicks, they got to maintain their erection ‘till
their turn comes…”
The door of the monitors room opens, a TV Center worker, a type in overalls, comes
in, clipboard with assignments sheet in his hand, an electric cart remains parked
outside by the door in the hallway:
“The aborigine art awareness week props, sir,” he says: Jim Ignatowsky, absorbed
by Pamela’s show, points to the two smiling, child-sized Russian dolls behind him,
signs on the clipboard, the worker checks the tickets glued on the dolls’ heads,
chooses one of them, lifts it to carry it out to the cart – the doll’s bottom half
falls down, and a second, inner doll slides out. The man tries to catch it, the inner
doll’s bottom half falls down, too, and a third doll slips out, its bottom falls
down, then the next one slips out…
“Yeah, well,” Pamela’s chirping on the screen: “I can get pretty large, but size-wise,
I worked with regular types of dicks here, you can see, look at those guys in the
line,” – cursing in sotto voce, the worker is trying to stop the cascading, colorful
Russian dolls from his arms, Jim Ignatowsky silences him, without turning his head,
watching in awe Pamela’s performance on the screen, her white body quickly changing
positions among the sweaty, glistening bodies of the men surrounding her.
Behind Jim, the worker has managed to stop the falling dolls – as he’s looking
around, trying to locate the fallen halves, from the small, smiling doll still in
his arms, a rain of tiny, shiny particles zip through the obscurity, falling silently
on the shaggy carpet.
“Again double vaginal! This is great TV! Wow! Look there! Wow! Three ways! Wow!
Ok, now back to your sphincter – wow! This is great TV! Pamela, since you did so
much simultaneous anal and triple penetration when you celebrated you fema-leness,
can you tell us, how do you relax your sphincter?” – the worker has started collecting
the lost dolls from the floor, plugs them one by one in the large doll.
“For this shoot I bought myself a few cucumbers, on a size-increasing scale,”
Pamela explains: “Then, normally, a couple of warm soap enemas first, then, just
before the shoot began, we started with the smallest cucumber, well smeared with
K-Jelly, my assistants gradually enlarging my asshole – yeah, look at this shot,
I can get really, really large, look!”
The worker has finished assembling the fallen Russian dolls – now with the lacquered,
smiling tube in his arms, he walks out, places it on the electric cart, then closes
the door.
“Quite large, wow! All these guys waiting for their turn – wow! Look at that!
Folks, this is Pamela Choi, the indomitable feminist. Now, Pamela, when you came
in America for studies – I mean, do your parents know, there, back in Taiwan, that
you planned to dedicate yourself to fight oppression in this, errrrr… heroic extent?”
♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 3
“Oh, no! But oppression and injustice should be fought on all fronts, and –
I may sound a little selfish here – and my psychoanalyst tells me that my work is
very good for my personal growth and my self-esteem and self-validation, too! Look,
look! That’s a real cool moment!”
Jim Ignatowsky stands up. Mesmerized by Pamela’s interview, he backwardly steps
to the water dispenser, looking at the screen on which Pamela and a few other sweaty
bodies are entangled in a glistening, fleshy, moaning, quivering knot of limbs –
a cup in his hand, Jim blindly releases the dispenser’s spigot, tries to fill his
cup, but, absorbed by the monitor screen, misses a couple of times the thin stream
of water which pours on the carpet by the Russian doll, right on the spot where the
rain of shi-ny particles from the just taken Russian doll have landed. Then, for
a few moments, staring at the moaning melee on the screen, Jim drinks water – he
empties the cup, drops it in a trash can, then squats, finds a rag, places it over
the wet spot, and, Russian doll smiling over his shoulder, he starts drying the carpet,
eyes glued to the screen.
“One dick in my ass, two in my pussy and blowing four other dicks at a time,
I do this routinely, look! Look! But I can do – look! Six guys over my head, blowing
them at turns! But my special – here! Look! Double anal penetration, see, two dicks
working my ass…”
“Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent
a new nation conceived in Liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are
created equal. What a gross joke! Ours is a nation founded on theft, robbery, rape
and sla-very. Hello – I am Thomas Fagan with our weekly discussions series which
aims to cleanse the collective American psyche of the hypocritical shrouds of gross
lies, deceits and deceptions surrounding the American history,” – on another monitor
screen, under a ‘Shameful Truths & Disgusting American Myths To Be Faced’ banner,
a town-hall/round table talk-show, a bearded host is talking, the guests sitting
around him gravely approving:
“We, Americans, we are a nation of murderers. Since we came here, we’ve only
killed and robbed and raped and enslaved – we enslaved and killed the Indians, im-ported
Africans as chattel, the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are good examples of
our hatred for benevolent civilizations. We never relented in destroying all those
who tried to civilize us and bring light in this American hell – Julius and Ethel
Rosenberg, Alger Hiss, Tom Hayden, Ramsey Clark, Alfred Kinsey, Timothy Leary, Michael
Moore and so many other martyrs,” – as Thomas Fagan keeps talking on the screen,
the screen next it keeps delivering glistening, undulating, quivering flesh and moans:
“Pamela, wow! Wow! Oh my god! – Oh, man! This was a great clip! This is great
TV! – Now, folks, we’ll show our interview – guess what! Our tape with Pamela’s parents
watching her film, back in Taiwan – this is great TV, you’ll see how different cultural
perceptions can be around the world, it’s very touching…”
“Prometheus – a sexually polymorphous demi-god stealing the secret of fire from
oppressive gods and surrendering it to the oppressed humankind; Spartacus – a sexu-ally
polymorphous rebelled slave fighting the Roman oppression; Robin Hood – a sexu-ally
polymorphous serf fight-ing the homophobic Nazis Norman occupiers; Jeanne d’Arc –
a lesbian warrioress-priestess-healer fighting the Nazis in France; Passionaria –
a lesbian warrior-priestess-healer fighting the fascism and oppression in the justice-deprived
Spain; Alger Hiss – a sexually polymorphous American union organizer fight-ing for
the rights of the oppressed in this country,” – on the glass of a monitor an
♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 4
announcer is gravely informing the evening audience of the oppressed North American
realms:
“Prometheus, Jean d’Arc, Passionaria, Spartacus, Robin Hood and others like them
are indeed extraordinary historical figures, united by their freeing sexuality and
cou-rage, and, fortunately, the freedom’s torch handed by them has always found other
heroes to carry it further along history – Robespierre, Freud, Lenin, Derjinsky,
Trotzky, Stalin, the International Brigades in Spain, Che Guevara, Sacco and Vanzetti,
Alger Hiss, Alfred Kinsey, Erika Jong, Edward Murrow, Fidel Castro, Timothy Leary,
Tom Hayden, Betty Friedan, Michael Moore, Susan Sontag, Hunter Thomson, Tony Kushner,
Joan Baez, Tim Robbins, Ramsey Clark, Pol Pot, Rock Hudson, George Clooney, George
Soros, Tookie Williams, Terence Malick, Sean Penn, Hillary Clinton, Robert Mapplethorpe,
Mumia Jabal and other heroic progressives are all Passionaria’s, Jeanne d’Arc’s,
Prometheus’ and Spartacus’ heirs. Tonight we’ll have with us some of the courageous
Americans who fight to keep the torch of freedom forwarded by these great humans
afire in universities and film studios…”
“And now we’ll see an attitude altering and mentality adjusting theatrical healing
program for grade schools,” – on another screen, another debating panel:
“In this program grade school children enact a typical slaves sale occurring
during the founding days of this republic. The children will engage themselves on
an ‘identity betterment progressive quest in several steps, re-owning the American
history by pub-licly interchanging historical roles’ – they will be first ungrateful
Republican pilgrims raping and murdering Indians, then base and vile Republican American
slaves owners and bidders auctioning African slaves, then auctioned slaves who are
examined for physical flaws, sodomized and forced to renounce their deep love for
the Kyoto Treaty provisions, then base and vile Republican slave owners who force
their slaves to work in asbestos mines and tobacco plantations, then again slaves
subjected to corporal pu-nishments and sexual abuse. Then, in the second part of
the session, the children will psychoanalyze each other and rate each other’s mental
advancement or recommend the proper, further therapy – this is a progressive, very
motivational, very enriching program!”
“Now, how many of you are discontent of your traditional religion, yearn for a
more encompassing, responsive, comfortable, non-judgmental spirituality? Let’s explore
this, post-Christian, perhaps global, spiritual quest,” on another screen, a spirituality
talk show – some guests, a curly TV hostess is thoughtfully addressing the camera
while pacing among the audience in the recording studio:
“We’ll see and talk shortly with one of our reporters who is witnessing an important
mystical event occurring right now, near our studio. Also here in our studio, our
diverse guests will later talk about their quest for succor, healing, closure, soothing,
self-esteem, and moral and spiritual recalibration and rebirth through Buddhism,
Sufi, Zen, Falun-Gong, Shamanism, Esalen visits, Santeria, Wicca and Goddess Worship-ping,
Lucifering, Scientology, Buddhism, Est…”
“That’s me! I fuck! That’s me! I fuck – I fuck, ok?” David Letterman has recoiled,
embarrassed, as Madonna Ciccone is screaming at him – on the screen, the “Late Night
Show With David Letterman” audience is whistling, booing, clapping.
“Yes, O.J. Simpson, Mary,” on another screen, from a remote location a reporter
speaks to the camera and an anchor: “And as you can see here, in the Torrance College’s
Abraham Lincoln auditorium, these diverse kids are still wildly applauding O. J.
Simpson, collecting auto-graphs, taking pictures with him,” – the screen has cut
to a crowd of excited teens taking pictures with a grinning O.J. Simpson, as the
location reporter goes on:
“The discussion was frank and the diverse kids after having seen various photographs
of Nicole Simpson and of the blood splattered place where she was bestially murdered,
have listened with much understanding to mister Simpson’s efforts
♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 5
the criminals who stole his dreams.”
“Well, James,” on another screen a reporter speaks in the microphone from a
rocky place, behind her on an enormous boulder looming a large Christian cross: “I
am here where this oppressive cross will be soon removed by court order and I can
say that so far the local fascists – you know those pick-up truck, Mustang, Lincoln
or Chevy driving types – didn’t dared to challenge this progressive action of Christian
crosses removal…”
Moans – stacked, glistening, quivering asses and groins, hesitatingly, a-rhythm-ically
thrusting, a woman’s and two men’s. The naked, panting bodies of Pa-mela, kneeled
down, leaning ahead on a man lying on his back, another man kneeled behind her, both
men are sliding their dark-red, congested dicks stuck in her asshole, threads of
lubricant seeping out from the grotesquely dilated orifice by the two dicks, smearing
groins, testicles bags as someone else’s greasy, hairy hand is deep, vigo-rously
rounding her vagina – on the monitor screen, Pamela’s interview goes on, now a cut
shows her parents in their living room in Taiwan, weeping uncontrollably, wat-ching
on a VCR Pamela’s film, together with her current, American interviewer.
On the next screen, the educational show – a crew of grade school children have
engaged themselves in the progressive, theatrical “historical roles interchanging,
Ame-rican identity betterment, mentality adjusting, attitudes altering and healing
program,” and are now re-owning the American history through a slaves auction and
owning en-actment – on the next screen, the spirituality recalibration talk-show
– on the next screen, a penis enlargement and vaginal rejuvenation infomercial –
on the next screen, some people gunning down some people – on the next screens, reporters
reporting from various blood splattered places – on the next screen, a menacing rapper
deliver-ing his number – on the next screen, a fight between some TV reporters and
some people unwilling to be interviewed – on the next screen, the presidential electoral
debate, Bill Clinton answering Bob Dole’s question – on the next screen…
Jim Ignatowsky has stopped drying the carpet, and squat, eyes glued to the screens,
he’s watching the fast changing images – inane, debasing talk shows, violent films,
shock news, invasive interviews, gross reality shows, glib talking heads, brutal
commercials, vulgar live events, presidential electoral campaign news and debates,
reality shows, freak shows, various round tables, blaring, inane rap and rock ‘n
roll acts, then more noise, chatter, din … Alas! the grave, all-encompassing, metronome-like
pulsation percolating the universe has vanished, the jarring, low-keyed cacophony
of the monitors room has defeated the universe’s fundamental regularities’ dignified
hum – and now, a shrill, banshee-like voice of a girl choir-soloist bursts in the
moni-tors room, soaring through the chatter and noise coming from the other productions,
she is singing with childish lust and abandon:
“Anal and vaginal secretions, blood from broken sphincters, breast milk, semen
and saliva…”
“Children, be aware, all these are HIV carriers!” an angelic, children choir
is accompanying her – Jim Ignatowsky shakes his head, overwhelmed, places the damp
rag over the wet spot of the carpet, then walks back and sits at the console:
“Anal and vaginal secretions, blood from broken sphincters, breast milk, semen
and saliva,” the waltzy, friendly, Progressive choral tune and lyrics have softened
the aggressive cacophony in the monitors room, Jim and the Russian doll have returned
to their previous motionless contemplation of the TV monitors, the shower of lights
and sounds, colored, changing hues of screens bathing his weary face and the smiling
Russian doll behind him – and Anal & Vaginal Secretions, Blood From Broken Sphincters’
progressive harmonies resonate in the monitors room then ripple out, over
♦ Misanthropy Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 6
Los Angeles and overcoming the hot, sticky, smoggy air and the traffic’s rustle,
victoriously heighten the toxicity of the atmosphere covering this so tried city.
The late-afternoon, Los Angeles sky is dark, the billowing cumulus clouds hovering
over this array of 90-keyed zip codes are caught in slo-mo, ominous and alarming
convulsions – and right there! There! In this smoggy, warm and unsettling atmos-phere
looms, dominating the sprawling city, the jagged, gray, menacing geometry of a dwarfing,
jagged, warship-like conglomerate of buildings, an enormous, prism shaped, Art-Deco
styled concrete tower reigning over a lower level of bulging sound-stages, studios
and warehouses which are connected by metallic catwalks and fire ladders… on the
tower’s top, burning against the sky’s hues of dark purple and grays, a huge, glowing
neon sign, HOLLYWOOD TV, FILM & EVENTS CENTER afire, among scores of round broadcast
antennae aiming to the sky – the harmonies of Anal & Vaginal Secretions, Blood From
Broken Sphincters, Breast Milk, Semen & Saliva electromagnetic waves joining the
flow of electromagnetic ripples blooming through the antennae, then together expanding
further, in the limitless universe…
“WELCOME 2 THE WINNERS OF THE ‘MYSTERY SWEEPSTAKES!’
ONE JAGUAR & 2 WEEKS FREE 4-2 IN CANCUN!” … announces the
banner over the entrance of one of the side studio buildings of the Hollywood TV,
Film & Events Center, then loud, “BOOM-TAH-RAH-RAH!” of a circus-like musical band
– on a red carpet, near a convertible Jaguar wrapped and tied with red ribbons,
Barbie and Ken, glitzy dressed and microphones in hand, front a TV crew by a line
of greeters costumed as bears, hens, penguins and other fowls, all waiting to welcome
the Mystery Sweepstakes winners.
And here is one of them – award letter in his hand, a man is incredulously walking
along the hens and bears who start line dancing, clapping and cheering, Ken and Barbie
pull him to the TV camera, check his award letter:
“And now, this is mister Dixon, winner of the first prize – BOOM-TAH-RAH-RAH!
– A brand new convertible Jaguar! – BOOM-TAH-RAH-RAH!” then they lead mister Dixon
in the studio between the dancing lines of fowls.
“Lucky guy! And somewhere in this Hollywood Center are Rasputin, Verushka with
red ker-chief and the Commissar with decorations! The five hundreds millions dollars
our Rainforest Protection Institute needs so badly,” – Brian’s sad voice comments
from somewhere.
“THE HOLLYWOOD TV, FILM & EVENTS CENTER IS PROUD TO
HOST THE ABORIGENE ART AWARENESS WEEK!”… another banner crowns
the main entrance of the Center’s building, and there they are, your friends and
neighbors and Starbucks pals, back in Los Angeles! Anna and Brian sit in their nondescript
hippy van in the Center’s parking lot, examining the landscape – the lot is packed,
a few late comers are rushing to the guarded entrances leading into the Center’s
recording studios and sound stages – the door of the van opens and a sweaty and
nervous Nick climbs in:
“Everything booked! Not a single show left to get in, not even a cooking show!”
– they look at the Thalia invoice in Anna’s hand, yeah, this is the Hollywood Center
where some of the Russian dolls have been delivered as props for adorning broadcast
studios during this aborigine art awareness week multicultural celebration:
“Did you try the ‘Montel Show?” asks Brian – “Booked!” says Nick.
“Did you try the ‘Rosie O’Donnel Show?’” asks Anna – “Booked!” says Nick.
♦ Misanthropy’s Ever-Expanding Wings ♦ Chapter 7-i ♦ 7
“Five hundred millions dollars-once!” a loud, croaky voice starts bidding, followed
by some other ill-boding croaks – they look around, alarmed.
“Did you try the ‘Suzie Orman Show?” – “Five hundred millions dollars-twice!”
the croaky voice mercilessly continues, they look around, in fear.
“Booked! Everything, Martha Stewart pots show, condoms rolling show, low calo-ries
shows, gardening show, changing tires show, placing stamps on letters shows, all
booked!” – “Five hundred millions dollars-trice!” those croaks, that voice again
hast spoken!
“Even the… ‘Ellen Degeneres Show?” – “Fully stuffed!” – “Five hundred millions
dollars!” the voice raiseth its tone! Then more sinister croaks, they look again
around.
“Even the… ‘Bill Maher Show?”– “Booked! This is beyond me, but that shit is
booked, too!” Nick exasperatedly answers.
“Five hundred millions dollars!” the croaks are louder, they fearfully rise their
eyes – a flight of menacing, long beaked, Lifetime Tragic Turnip Club membership
appli-cations forms, X-marked line ready for signatures, with snatching claws and
greedy beaks ready to hit are circling, croaking, over their van.
“Five hundred millions dollars! Last call!”– in the distance, at the VIP entrance
of the Center, a white Lincoln town-car has just materialized, from it emerges that
unmis-takable, great Eastern European avant-garde artist, mister tovarisch Potapovich,
accompanied by his Rhode Island producers, Don Lorenzo, mister Toby and mister Ossy
– Don Lorenzo shows some passes to the guards (this theater producer seems to have
some connections), and they’re respectfully invited to enter the Center’s building.
Your hapless friends and neighbors! Again the merciless destiny is beating them
with the existential disproportions’ mallet! Entrance to an inane TV Hollywood show
as a pre-requisite to boundless happiness? Five hundred millions dollars vs. some
free passes for a show? That is, for any kind of show! Just to establish a staging
camp in the Center’s realm of unequaled promise! As audience for a game show! For
a cooki-ng show! For “The Price Is Right” show! For a gardening show! For the “Rosie
O’Donnell Show”! Even for something crappier! (if this is possible – yes, it is,
NB.) For a Steven Bochco show! For an Aaron Sorkin show! For a pressure cooking pots
show! For an Aaron Spelling show! Not even for something crappier? A Tory Spelling
show? Even the Ellen Degeneres show is completely booked?
Yes, your Starbucks pals are willing to accept any, any, any degradation in order
to enter the Hollywood TV, Film & Events Center, yet, no matter how low they’re willing
to go, even the stupidest thing on Earth, the Bill Maher show is booked! And the
Tra-gic Turnip membership forms croak, croak, spiraling closer and closer over their
heads! What a horror! Again this existential, maddening, Richard the 3rd type, objecti-ves
vs. hurdles disproportion situation!
Ghost of mister Ricky, man of such resources, can you come with a piece of advice?
And they’re somberly studying the enormous building, your friends and neighbors,
watch the entrance of the “Mystery Sweepstakes” event and the joyous winners arriving
there, happily marching between the rows of clapping and dancing hens, bears, penguins
– that enormous, yellow hen, clapping and swinging!
That hen! That hen, so enthusiastically clapping, is it actually Richard the 3rd
gone inspirational? Mischance, fatality, arbitrariness, wicked destiny defeated by
a daring, six-feet tall yellow hen with red feet? Well, guiding lights and fatality
deflectors materialize in many forms and shapes, so – squeal of tires and the hippy
van is now sailing with determination its way across the Hollywood TV, Film & Events
Center’s parking lot.
Yes, Los Angeles, the Nineties, Everybody Is Looking For Something, city where
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this shortcoming by offering the visitors a com-plementary reference system which
parallels the displayed Chapters with a themes-focused registry of Misanthropy’s
Ever-Expanding Wings-reported, unsettling or incendiary situ-ations, events, findings
etc., and other Report-supporting elements.
While the intensity of the events and situati-ons presented here by Misanthropy’s
Ever Chapters is sometimes diluted by the lack of a larger context, the visitors
who complement their Chapters reading with perusals of this focused, themes-organized
registry may find this repertory of situations and findings truly dismaying, shocking
or jarring – if so, the Mi-santhropy Institute cannot but hope that this scientific
index of public and private miseries & shames studied, catalogued then selflessly
made available to the public by the Institute will offer the concerned Americans
an alerting confirmation for their anxieties and premoni-tions regarding... Quo Vadis,
America?
♦
Index of Unsettling or Incendiary
Facts, Events & Situations
♦ Unsettling Political Trends & Situations
* The Nineties Maelstrom & The Galley
Of Shames & Follies
* The New American History
* The New Normalcy Sublimation
* The New Normalcy Conference
* The Evil Hollywood TV, Film &
Events Center
♦ Intense Sexual & Spiritual Situations
* Goddess Roxanne Channelings
* The Viridiana Channeling
* The Aphrodite Temple Channeling
* The Angel Of Death Channeling
* The Dance Of The 7 Veils Chan-
nelling
* The Isle Of Death Channeling
♦Intergalactic Encounters & Exchange Events
*The Misanthropy Institute Intergalac-
tic Exchange Program Findings
* The True Titanic message
* The Earthian Electromagnetic Broad-
cast Waves Rippling Across The
Universe
♦ The Toxic Samples presented by the Report
*Toxic Sample # 1:
“Madonna, stupid strumpet born...”
* Toxic Sample # 2:
“HOWL”
* Toxic Sample # 3: —
* Toxic Sample # 4: —
* Toxic Sample # 5: —
* Toxic Sample # 6: —
* Toxic Sample # 7: —
* Toxic Sample # 8: —
* Toxic Sample # 9: —
* Toxic Sample #10: —
* Toxic Sample #11: —
* Toxic Sample #12: —
* Toxic Sample #13: —
* Toxic Sample #14: —
* Toxic Sample #15: —
* Toxic Sample #16: —
* Toxic Sample #17: —
“...shocking, prurient, lurid, irres-ponsible, humiliating, divisive and angering,
its revelations unneces-sarily incendiary and bordering so-ciopathy, this situation
amplified by the Report’s unusual seduction powers which makes its countless readers
fall under its superb, yet sick spell ...”
... as shown in the opening description of this site, the publication of Misanthro-py’s
Ever-Expanding Wings is done un-der the US District Court (SACU) res-trictive editorial
supervision, many ele-ments of the Report still being under re-view. For this reason,
as of August 28th. 2010, the Misanthropy Institute website can display only the facts,
events and si-tuations listed above.
However, the legal observers anticipate that at the incoming US District Court (SACU)
hearing scheduled on August, 31st. 2010, the Misanthropy Institute will prevail and
defeat Misanthropy’s ene-mies, and will force the Court to grant the permission to
display in the present site and Index more of the incendiary facts, events and situations
which articu-late this so much feared Misanthropy’s Ever-Expanding Wings Report -
in tech-nical, editorial terms, that means that the Misanthropy Institute site will
begin in a couple of weeks a regular updating pro-cess that will make available for
the visi-tors from Misanthropy Institute vast ar-chives or current research a multitude
of scandalous, incendiary or life-changing revelations about the twisted world in
which we live.
So, friends, fellows and supporters of Misanthropy’s cause, be optimistic - the Misanthropy
Institute will not fail your trust, and your visiting this site will al-ways reward
your philosophical interests with new, exciting or disturbing findings and insights.
Be part of Misanthropy -
Cordially - The Misanthropy Institute
