"Ye shall know the Truth . . .

. . . and the Truth will set you Free." Inscription on a wall at Denison University. Probably a quote. No wonder ol' Denny-doo has been gently prodding me lately. They wanted me to consider why they had denied Hilary Ann Russell '73's second son the legacy rights to admissions he so richly deserved via Hil's husband, Charles Octavius Pritchard '72. They were my partners in Whale's Tale in Cape May, NJ, until I was blown out of the water in 1978. Bipolar, I was diagnosed. Not so, I've lately discovered, but what was it?

Hilary's mother, Barbara Seton(?) Russell had given her husband, Kenneth, his missing middle name (Seton) in her efforts to groom him to eventually become the "special assistant" to the president of Sterling Drugs. Babs Russell and my mother had some kind of connection that continues in my little sister Julie today (drug trial manager at what was until recently Wyeth Drugs in Collegeville, PA).

Follow that? neither do I. Still, it begged to be expressed.

How about this: If in 2009, blacks accounted for 51% of new cases of HIV infection, and generally speaking, they tend to be less likely to have private insurance and rely on the HIV public services, which have recently been gutted by the Republican Party. Therefore, there should be a lot of black guys running around looking sick as hell with AIDS on the streets. Has anyone seen them?

Lot's of black folk in Atlanta, but I never see any sick black folk. Guess that AIDS virus just ain't a-workin' anymore. HELLO!!!

It never did. AIDS was a mind-fuck concieved by lingering Nazis and others: Ronald Reagan, Pope John Paul II, my mother. Why do you think for most of the 1980s Catholic Charities was the largest provider of AIDS sevices in the world? They were getting right onto the bedsides and reinforcing the belief in the "ill" (other agents caused the initial symptoms), that they would die excruciating, horrible deaths. They knew (as Jesus taught) "It is done unto you as you believe." In other words, your life unfolds exactly according to the nature of your belief. All they had to do was start with something minor and then convince the person he had AIDS. Big ugly experience to accept as your fate, as reported in the cooperating press, and voila'! GAY HOLOCAUST!!!

Funny: that the night I almost died sailing off Manasquan, NJ in 1974, I was saved by the brilliant work Chuck Pritchard did to fix the boat's engine before I shoved off with the three others. Storm hit that night, sails totally ripped out, but the boat's motor kept us true as we battled the giant waves.

But a totally black freighter--not a single light burning on it--nearly rammed us, 5 miles out at sea. Why did it have no lights on AT ALL? Who put the homing device in our sailboat (which was making one knot speed at best, fighting, fighting the swells). That phantom had to be bearing down on us perfectly somehow.

I had the wheel at the time, and then, like now, I sensed danger intuitively, and turned before I even saw the huge ship bearing down on us, thus saving our boat. That same night, my sister Jane was also nearly killed at UNC Chapel Hill when someone deliberately left her cable hand-grip unfastened, and she fell and was in a coma for five days. We were the product of Dr. Mengele's research. Why did our mother have to destroy us? I had a conscience. Jane had buck teeth and slight scoliosis.

My brother was spared because, although perfect, he lacked sufficient courage. And he was a breeder, his children (who always ran from their grandparents--my father is a Kenan-family denier, BTW), might be useful later. My little sister, Julie, joined the "family business" and traveled with my parents on their frequent visits to the Mediterranean contacts and even bragged that she had had the "miracle" of her cheap rosary turning to gold after a visit to Medjugorje.

My mother saw to it that I was diagnosed bipolar so that Lithium kept me stupid for all these years. Everyone else in the family was kept stupid in Alcoholics Anonymous with it's twisted mind-fuck meditations. There's no such thing as an alcoholic, just people drinking too much to avoid remembering the truth or childhood trauma. For most (like me at times) drinking too much is a normal, temporary human condition.

So take 'em all out, Jews. The tears I have for my mother are pure Zyklon B.

Scott D. Kenan