Jeano Scrapbook

/ Friends … Patrons /

Jeano stories salted Much of that content evaporated in the wake of US federal court, Judge Martinez, censoring the main folder of my February 2007. My IP host was so shocked at the judge’s order that it, purged all of my data: six domains, several thousand text files, including whole books, books by such as Ivan Illich, several thousand images, logos, drawings, fine art objects … My blogs remained, my domains all disappeared, including my business,

I’d written to my graduate university saying that time was running out for them to apologize to me, compensate me, for their academic marketplace sabotage of the 1960s and 1970s. They freaked, called the FBI, the FBI rewrote what I’d written, arrested me, tried me on the basis of their rewrite: it hardly mattered: neither they nor the court knew how to read any better than NYU! When the fed wants to invent a case everyone who’s gone to school since childhood will comply: if they want to get along in the corporatist world: which, god help us, not only Europe but the East too has joined. The truth has as much chance as Galileo, Abelard, Bruno …
I took the lawyer’s advice and pleaded guilty: my choice was to risk jail for forty years, never being able to tell the true story, or, give then their seeming victory in hope of being released after fifteen months: get my free speech back in a year and a quarter: or never. That was no choice: they moved me like a puppet. Only the most degraded people would have believed such crap: that’s us, the US.

Anyway: I got out in 2007, I got my computers back six months later: uncoordinated, no longer networked, but I did have the raw data: and I’ve been reposting what I could. The court warned me not to remount the NYU material. Understandable: for example, my letter to the English department, said that I had proof that NYU hadn’t even read my graduate papers, graded them without reading let alone understanding them! Ah. So the FBI shackled me, took me away, went through all my files at their leisure. Coming home I expected my evidence to be missing, sabotaged; but it wasn’t! They touched lots of files: without knowing which evidence was damning to them!

Anyway: 2008 to 2014, I’ve been reposting. But I’ve continued chicken, didn’t repost the NYU satire, one of my life’s masterpieces: that’s saying something. So: I haven’t been rearrested, but I’ve got to stop playing “safe”. I’ve lost my drivers license, I might be re-incarcerated at any time. I will suffer, it might kill me, my girl will suffer, but I can’t help that: my main loyalty must be to deschooling, to my life’s work, to telling my story.

Here I create a place to jot stories about one of my no good patrons: promised to “help” me; just wanted a boy toy after all.

Jeano Morrison (professional name “Brooks”)

Jeano Brooks Morrison

You see that there’s a dedication written there? I’ll translate: she wrote, “I wish you tiss.” That’s a Balinese word that I taught her, having learned it myself fro Gregory Bateson. It means the perfect peace that comes after an orgasm. Jeano and I had been much devoted to giving each other orgasms. She was seventeen years older, but very beautiful: still, in 1982, working as a model (or had only recently retired).

aye, as so often happens I’ve made a hash of this, material may split in next draft

Pardon me if I repeat a story, I’d rather tell it twice than miss it. I’ll assemble a menu of cross-referrencing posts.

Stories by Age by Theme by Others

About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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