December 13, 2004
Hey, buddy. What's going down in Mudville? Are you in a philosophical mood? Or are you just in the mood for some philosophy? Or is it all you can do these days just to keep your hands clean?
I stick my finger into existence -- it smells of nothing. Where am I? What is this thing called the world? Who is it who has lured me into the thing, and now leaves me here? Who am I? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted?
That's Kierkegaard. Soren Kierkegaard, one of the fathers of existentialism. He was not a lot of fun at parties; I can tell you that. Human life is not designed for pleasure, Kierkegaard tells us, yet in the time given to each of us for our own existence, we strive for happiness in order to escape anxiety and the deep, hopeless depression which is despair. But there is no escape -- no matter how pleasurable and comfortable we make our lives in order to hide from the truth. For the truth is, Kierkegaard insists, that all of us live in anxiety and despair. This is the universal human condition. We suffer from anxiety even when we are not aware of it, and even when there is nothing to fear, nothing in the objective world to feel anxious about. This is because at bottom, says Kierkegaard, our anxiety is not objective at all, it is subjective anxiety -- it is the universal fear of something that is nothing, it is the fear of the nothingness of human existence.
Wow! And they call economics the dismal science!!
In any event, we -- the residents of 3801 Connecticut Avenue -- had our Christmas party last Thursday, December 9th. The food was good; the food was outstanding, in fact. The entree was lasagna: both vegetarian lasagna and meat lasagna. I am somewhat of a vegetarian. I stuck with the non-meat lasagna. My former psychiatrist, Dr. Rhoda Ruttenberg, "Dr. R" for short -- like Kafka's Herr K., but with a medical degree -- is also a vegetarian. But that's neither here nor there.
The party was held in the building's social room. I sat in the same chair all evening, from about 6:00 till after 8:00. I was seated with a group of young people. The conversation seemed to be dominated by one fellow, an Indian from Bombay. He does "infrastructure finance" -- roads, tunnels, bridges, that type of thing.
He was fascinating. His own "intrapsychic structure" was expressed repeatedly in everything he said. The same psychological pattern repeated itself, time after time. Someone asked: "As for Metro, what's the better way to raise money -- by fare increases or by taxation?" Finance Guy said: "Oh, taxation, of course. That's the only way to raise significant revenues. Fares are nothing. They amount to nothing. They're crap. Fares don't even pay for the electricity that Metro uses."
Later in the conversation he was talking about environmentalism, and concerns about global warming. "The only way to do anything about global warming is to increase reliance on nuclear energy." Someone said: "What about alternative energy sources?" Finance Guy said: "No, it has to be nuclear. Alternative energies are nothing. Take wind power, for example. It's nothing. It's crap. It doesn't amount to anything in the total picture of energy supplies."
Someone asked: "But what about the waste material. Nuclear waste? Doesn't nuclear power generate a lot of nuclear waste?" Finance Guy said: "Nuclear energy produces very little waste. It's nothing. It's crap. It doesn't amount to anything."
Then the interlocutor said: "But even so, the waste that is produced is so toxic. Even a small amount of nuclear waste can contaminate a wide area. No?"
Finance Guy said: "No. That problem is overblown. The problems posed by nuclear waste are nothing. They're crap."
Then later on in the conversation, something amazing happened. Finance Guy was talking about his native country, India. He was talking about the use of the English language in India, and he pointed out that only about 5% of the Indian population speaks fluent English. "Just five percent. But keep in mind, India has a population of over one billion people. So that amounts to about 50 million people who speak English. Fifty million! Think about it. Just five percent of Indians speak fluent English, but in real terms it amounts to 50 million people. Why, that's huge!" You see the split in Finance Guy's thinking? At times he discounted the significance of an object in real terms, emphasizing instead the quantitative smallness of the object as a percentage of the whole. But with respect to one issue (the use of English in his native India -- the Motherland), he discounted the significance of percentage and emphasized the importance of the object in real terms.
Then the conversation turned to Kierkegaard. That's where my mind turned off. I wasn't in a mood for Kierkegaard. Message for Stanley Cutler, one of my teachers at Penn State, who once said to me, "Freedman, you must be a lot of fun at parties." Ironic, don't you think, Stan? A dismal pessimist like Kierkegaard probably didn't get a lot of party invitations. And yet, a hundred years after he died, the writings of Kierkegaard can be a lively topic of conversation at a party. Or is it simply that people will talk about anything -- literally anything, nothing, or "Nothingness" -- just to get off the topic of infrastructure finance?
At this point a tenant, Barbara D'Jebbour (apartment 247) seated herself next to me. She's originally from Vancouver, Canada. Her husband, Kamar (also known as Frank), is from India; his mother is Jewish and his father, Hindu. She's creative and histrionic. They were very friendly with the former front-desk manager, Elizabeth Joyce. My interaction with Barbara was odd, to say the least. We had never talked before. She didn't introduce herself and never asked me what my name was. She launched into a very intimate picture of her life and personality, as though she were a patient on an analyst's couch. I had the eerie feeling she knew all about my background and was parodying what she had heard. "I'm highly intelligent. Yes, very intelligent. Well, maybe not Mensa smart. But close. I'm part scientist, part artist. Right now the scientist part of me is dominant. Kamar and I are involved in biomedical research. Kamar and I are working on an AIDS test for use in Third World countries. AIDS tests, you know, cost about $500 each. We've developed a test that costs only a dollar. We won't get rich, Kamar and I, but we're doing something for humanity." (Like Marie and Pierre Curie?)
"I'm very complex psychologically," she said. "I have about 50 different personalities." At this point, I felt like saying, "Listen, lady, could you switch to one of your other 49 personalities? Right now, this one is starting to piss me off." She then launched into a discussion of her daytime TV viewing habits: Judge Judy and Judge Brown. "I'm thinking about pursuing a career in law," she said. (She's in her early 50's.) For some odd reason, she urged me to visit the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception at Catholic University. (I associated at this moment to "Our Blessed Lady of Pharmacology," the patron saint of biomedical scientists.) The conversation turned emotionally draining when she started to talk about the death of her mother, earlier this year. "My mother died in my arms." Then she talked about all the relatives of hers who died in the past year. "And my aunt and uncle will not live out the year. They're dying." Keep in mind, this is an informal social gathering: a setting for people to get away from their daily cares. What would possess a person to intrude so flagrantly on another person's right to the quiet enjoyment of an informal social event?
"Do you talk to Elizabeth Joyce (the former front desk manager)?" I asked. "Yes," she said, "several times a week. We stay in touch."
All in all my clinical impression was that of a person who already knew a lot about me, was parodying me, and who was venting an intense sadism in the guise of vulnerability. She struck me as highly manipulative. "Of course, you know the circumstances behind Elizabeth's leaving her job (as front desk manager)." Well, quite frankly, I didn't and I certainly wasn't going to play into her manipulative game by begging for details: "No, I don't. Tell me, please tell me the story behind the story." I remained silent, and didn't go for the bait. I think Barbara D'Jebbour was just trying to f--k with my head, that's all she was doing. I shouldn't have let her do that. I shouldn't have let her f--k with my head.
Yes, Stan Cutler was right. I don't know how to interact with people at parties. I'm just not a lot of fun at parties. As Dr. Bash would say, I lack social skills. I never learned how to regale fellow partygoers with the fine details of infrastructure finance or the existential Nothingness of Kierkegaard. I don't have the gall to launch into a bizarrely-narcissistic account of my personality and the intimate details of my life -- in the company of a total stranger, whose name I never bothered to learn. I suppose I'll never fit in. Such is the tragic fate of the socially clueless, like myself. I guess it will be just me and General Bonaparte for the rest of my days. Yes, I am crippled by my social ineptness. (Or do people simply despise me for my mordant sarcasm, and my ability to pierce the social armor of my peers?)
Be that as it may.
I'll tell you who else was probably not a lot of fun at parties. Sartre. The French philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre. They say he would sit at a table at a cafe, book in hand, and read. Read, read, read -- as if no one were around him. And yet, Sartre, like Kierkegaard, can spark a lively debate at a party, especially if the preceding topic of conversation is infrastructure finance.
Have you ever read any Sartre, Brian? "No Exit?" That was Fred Cohen's favorite play. He liked the lesbian character. "No Exit" has only three actors, and no change of scenery. It's kind of like the CBS-TV reality series "Big Brother," but without the half-million dollar prize money. The three characters, a man and two women, one of whom is a lesbian, walk separately into a brightly lighted room furnished with three small sofas, knowing that they are dead and have been sent here to hell. Yet there are no instruments to torture them, there are no hell fires to burn them, there are only the other two people. Soon the horrible truth dawns upon them that they are one another's tortures, their damnation is for all eternity to torment one another. By the end of the play they have tortured each other excruciatingly and they have made the discovery that in hell there is no need for hell fire -- as the male character says, "hell is other people."
Have you read "No Exit," or "Being and Nothingness," or "The Flies?" What about "Nausea?" Nausea, not morning sickness. The book, not the physical state. Have you ever read "Nausea?"
One of the first products of Sartre's philosophical reflections was a novel, the philosophical novel with the title "Melancholia," which Sartre's publishers changed to "Nausea." Why a novel? Sartre is already finding his way toward a philosophy of existentialism which will use literature -- novels, plays, short stories -- to grasp concrete human existence, the human condition, the lived life, as distinct from the overlay of essences by which philosophy, science, and theology conceal, distort, and explain away my existence as a conscious being.
Sartre had been working on the novel "Nausea" for almost a decade, ever since his years in graduate school.
When "Nausea" was published in 1938 it was an immediate and huge success. In the following years, the principal character of the novel "Nausea," Antoine Roquentin, has become a recognized, staple part of our literary world, as have other literary figures like Shakespeare's Hamlet and Lady Macbeth, or Dickens's Oliver Twist and David Copperfield, or James Joyce's Bloom and Molly, or Kafka's Gregor Samsa and his characters whose names begin with the letter K. References to Roquentin's melancholy concrete existence, his depression and nausea, and his crisis of anguish occur in the fields of psychology, literature, and philosophy, and wherever the consciousness of modern man is examined.
Who is Roquentin and how has Sartre's most philosophical novel made him into a personality so real that he lives among us outside the novel itself? What are the moods and thoughts of this fictional character and how have they come to be perceived as expressing moods and thoughts which are characteristic of contemporary human life?
The novel is shrewdly presented by Sartre as Roquentin's own diary, a first-person account of his daily life, written only for himself, and thus as a direct and truthful statement of one man's subjectivity, his concreteness, here-and-now existence. The scene is a port city in France which has the name of Bouville (literally, Mudville). It is clearly a description of the actual port of Le Havre, the main port of France, the ugly commercial city in which Sartre lived in cheap hotels near the railroad station and other decaying infrastructure while he was teaching philosophy there.
In many ways Roquentin is similar to Sartre; he is living on a small inherited income, he is an intellectual and a writer. But Roquentin is represented as having no family ties, no job, no friends. He speaks no Hebrew and never attends his local synagogue, despite the repeated exhortations of his psychotherapist. That is the tragedy of Roquentin. He is too proud, too stubborn, and too fearful to visit his local Temple, where crowds of people assemble each week; yes, crowds of potential comrades wait to befriend poor, lonely Roquentin. Each week the rabbi asks the congregation, "What are you waiting for?" And the congregation replies, "Waiting for Roquentin." But Roquentin never arrives.
Although he had traveled widely, and had various adventures, Roquentin is now somewhat bored and world weary. But he is a free man, free to do what he wants, and he has come to Bouville to do research in the archives of the city library for a biography that he is writing, on the life of an eighteenth-century adventurer and diplomat, the Marquis de Rollebon.
But from the very first page we know that something is wrong. The first page of the diary mentions that a change has come over him, and we soon learn that the whole point of keeping a diary is to determine what this change is and what it means for his life. "The best thing," he says in the diary, "would be to write down events from day to day." And above all, he says, "I must tell how I see this table, this street, the people, my packet of tobacco, since those are the things which have changed." With these words, Sartre has taken us into the psychology of a mind that is aware that it is slipping away from its normal states, aware that his world is beginning to take on a strange new appearance, and yet sufficiently in touch with reality to want to observe his own mental states, to keep a day-to-day account of the changes in his perceptions and thoughts.
When did it all begin? It began on a day in the middle of June . . .
Check you out next week, buddy. Call me, Brian. I'm serious. We need to consult. (Why was I not consulted?) The way I see it, if you can pick up the phone to call the cops for no good reason, you can just as easily pick up the phone to call ME for no good reason. But then, it wasn't you who called the cops on me, was it? Never mind.
Mudville: a place where head librarians never do the dirty work, and where "Les Mains Sales" [Dirty Hands] is not just a book, but a physical, concrete state reserved for assistant librarians.
[During the period June 2001 to August 2003 I believed that the resident manager of my apartment building, David Castleberry (2000 - 2003), used to enter my apartment surreptitiously each day. I used to leave him a handwritten message taped to the inside of the front door. I had begun that practice in mid-June 2001 and continued writing notes and taping them to the door until the summer of 2003, when David Castleberry quit. The messages were addressed to "Friend." I pretended that I didn't know it was David Castleberry who was reading the notes. It was my (paranoid) belief that David Castleberry reported back to attorney managers at Akin Gump the content of the message I left on the door each day. I further believed that Akin Gump's attorney managers then informed Brian Brown at the library of the content of the daily message.]
6-13-01 I hope you enjoyed your visit. This is where [imaginary] Brian and I have hot passionate sex. You know the great thing about Lewinskying a guy with a two-inch penis? No gagging! Get it? Come back now, hear?
[At the outset of the diaries, I refer to librarian Brian Brown as "the librarian." I pretend that I do not know his name. At the beginning of the diaries, the individual identified as "Brian" is an imaginary figure.]
6-14-01 I've decided to communicate with you every day. Tell your friends to look into Sally. Crackpot Sally is a volunteer who waters the plants in the library. She climbs up on chairs and takes other risks, and if she slips and falls, and proceeds to sue the city -- Well, I'm sure Tony would love that. She seems to be granted unusual privileges. The librarian [Brian Brown] lets crackpot Sally use his computer in his private office. What's up with that? Some time ago Sally sneered at me prominently the Monday after I told law enforcement about "Mr. Intellectual" and identified him by one of the books he had returned. She had a look of "How dare you!" Lady, maybe you should douche your brain instead of watering the plants. Happy Flag Day! God Bless America. They should have fried TMV [Timothy McVeigh] -- literally.
[Attached is message from the Tenants Association with my marginal notes:] Hi, 3801 Residents! The very last line of the recent Tenants Association newsletter said: "Please remit to Jeannette Smoot, Treasurer in Apartment 9." It should have said "Apartment 920." Also, should you wish to join the Tenants Association, your check should be made payable to 3801 Connecticut Tenants Association. Thank you for your interest and attention! Julie Sherman, Association President. [My marginal note reads:] Left outside my Apt on 6-14-01 (AM) not left in front of any other apartments.
["Mr. Intellectual" is a middle-aged patron who lives in the neighborhood. He visits the library several days each week and borrows numerous books. He is tall and thin. He has the serious, piercing gaze of an intellectual or highly-intelligent person. I've sensed for years that he knows who I am. He doesn't appear to hold a conventional job.]
6-15-01 I have nothing to report today. Sorry. Yesterday was a slow news day. One thing -- [the library patron named] Dave (Mr. Washington Times) gave me that "invisible look" when he passed by me in the street. Dave--that's [library patron] Frank Green's friend. Dave used to be friendly with [the librarian] Bruce Snyder. Enjoy the weekend.
[Frank Green is now deceased. "Dave" still lives in the neighborhood. Bruce Snyder now works at the Chevy Chase Branch of the DC Library.]
6-14-01 Look into Richard [Peyton Howard]. I have picked up vibes on him since at least 1990, when I was still working. I have the feeling he knows all about me -- confidential stuff. He is a graduate of Brown University; I think he works for the U.S. Information Agency. He plays tennis and goes to church. I think he's active with the Tenants Association. I think he's creepy. What's his story? Say, aren't we coming up on the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo? More tomorrow.
6-19-01 The library staff were icy yesterday. I think they've been ordered to have a more professional demeanor -- I owe that to you, friend. But it won't last. I guarantee it. Did you look into Richard [Peyton Howard]? What does he know? If Elizabeth Joyce doesn't come clean, I will report her to the British Embassy. Riverside dinner with riparian entertainment -- my ass ! ! Later, Dude. (Yosh [Shirazzi, co-owner of the Brookville Supermarket,] looked angry yesterday.)
6-20-01 This morning, while I was riding on the elevator, here at 3801, a tenant, David Grady, got on and pushed the button for the 2d floor -- using his middle finger. I'm still thinking about whether that was intended as a message to me. David Grady is an attorney at Hogan & Hartson, where I used to work. I told federal authorities about him. Later, Dude.
6-21-01 Here's something to look into. Last spring and summer, a young man used to visit the Cleveland Park Library to use the computer. His name was Brad. Medium height, very good-looking, blondish hair, curly hair, athletic appearance. He used to chat with Dave (Bruce Snyder's friend). I used to think of Brad as "Dave's Boy-Toy." The librarian [Brian] knew him by name. I can recall the librarian talking for some time to Brad on one occasion. I think Brad used the computer as part of a job search. I'm thinking of getting a masturbator for [the imaginary] Brian -- but they don't sell his size -- extra-small. Bye-bye.
6-22-01 Look into the tenants in 247. He's Indian, about 50 years old. His wife [Barbara D'Jebbour] is European stock. She's creative & histrionic. They're very friendly with Elizabeth Joyce. The husband chats with Joyce, and a few weeks ago, when Joyce was ill, the wife comforted Joyce be stroking Joyce's cheek with her hand (THAT'S intimacy). They travel a great deal. I think his car was stolen a time ago. I may be mistaken, but I think the husband owns a liquor store in Southeast, DC. See the connection? Note that Cleveland Park Liquor & Wine (Where I make beer purchases) is owned by Indians. They may be part of a subcontinental Mafia. Anyway, I get funny vibes from both tenants in 247. This is serious. (Don't let those people fuck around with you.)
[My impression of Frank and Barbara D'Jebbour is that they are a pair of grifters.]
6-23-01 Stop back on Monday.
6-25-01 Several startling developments: Early on Saturday afternoon, about 1:00 PM, I was walking up Connecticut Avenue. "Mr. Intellectual" was leaving the Brookville Supermarket. He saw me, had a slight startle response, then looked straight ahead, with that invisible look. Upon seeing me, he started to whistle. He ("Mr. Intellectual") has never reacted to me like this before. I believe he was angry about my letter to you dated 6-14-01 (that talked about him & Crackpot Sally). I have been thinking about contacting the FBI for my own protection -- these people may gang up on me -- I can't rule out physical violence against me. At least Freeh (Clinton's lackey) is gone. Tom Pickard is in charge for now. In another development I have discovered that Dr. Lawrence C. Sack may be a Communist. He subscribes to a publication "The New Federalist" -- very anti-American. To think I paid over $300 to Dr. Sack in 1991, before the party breakdown in Moscow. My money probably went straight to party headquarters in the Kremlin via Comrade Sack. ([Imaginary] Brian and I went to Seaworld this weekend. I got lucky with a hot female and Brian -- well, let's just say, Brian probably won't be sitting down for a while.) Dolphin sex -- the phenom of the future.
6-26-01 Things were quiet in the library yesterday. An uneasy calm, though. I feel they don't like my letters to you, and they feel helpless about them. -- They would like me to stop, but they have no control in the matter. -- A quiet desperation. They don't even try to elicit evidence of paranoia, as if some authority has told them my powers are real. Barbara largely ignored me. The librarian [Brian Brown] (who, for some reason, didn't sit down at the information desk) also ignored me; he chatted briefly with Peter (the aging fag volunteer). I picked up negative vibes from Charles [Davis], the brother. [The patron named] Tanner sat at my table; THAT was exciting. The double entendres centered on "zoo animals" and "Judge Judy" and a person named "Peoples." What will today bring? Parting is such sweet sorrow, friend.
6-27-01 Another quiet day yesterday. The librarians were at a meeting while I was there. Hillary (the children's librarian) took the information desk responsibilities. Double-entendres from Hillary were "Nobel Prize," "fiction" (referring to the defamation of my character), and "shipwreck" (a reference to Jack London's Sea-Wolf?) As I was standing up and leaving the computer, "Mr. Intellectual" was entering the library. He spotted me, and smiled -- He usually doesn't smile when he sees me. Background on Caprice -- She was born in Mexico. She spent time in a red Chinese prison. Trotsky was a family friend.
6-28-01 They were supposed to clean the windows yesterday. My windows are still dirty -- another promise broken. No wonder I don't trust people. Saw Dr. Shaffer for first time at Spring Road. Thought she was fishing around for fears that she thinks I have about my SSA benefits being cut off. Sign that she knows about these letters to you. She thinks I write these letters (which I have never told her about) to make a case that I'm crazy, so that SSA will continue my benefits -- as if anybody who was under surveillance would not be concerned. I think the thing is SHE'S afraid of her own job getting cut, especially in view of the recent restructuring at P Street. Sat next to [library patron] Carlos [Chalbaud] at the computer yesterday. I ejaculated in my pants -- quietly, of course, after all, it's a library! June 28, 1914 -- Francis Ferdinand assassinated in Sarajevo. June 28, 1984 -- complaint filed in Fed Court by David Tatel in Milwaukee School Desegregation case. Moral: Whatever you start on 6-28 will never come to an end.
[Appended is page 845 of the August 2000 issue of "American Psychologist" that lists my former therapist (August 1998 to June 1999), Lisa A. Osborn, as having received her psychologist certification. Includes handwritten note:] I took this from a journal left in the library magazine exchange -- coincidence?
Interestingly, Dr. Shaffer was in fact later cut from the staff of the DC Mental Health Department, in February 2003. She was unhappy with the action, as evidenced by her filing a grievance with the union. My suspicions about Dr. Shaffer's fear of termination, described in the message on 6/28/01, may not have been unfounded.
I continue to see Carlos Chalbaud in the neighborhood. He seems to live on Macomb Street. He is originally from Venezuela. He has the appearance of a sweet, sensitive individual. He may be a student.]
6-29-01 Yesterday, someone left a gay (homosexual) publication ("The Advocate") in the magazine exchange in the library. It's a special issue of the magazine dealing with "The Millennium March on Washington," on Wed 6-27-01. I told Dr. Shaffer about Aristotle [my name for "Ari" (last name?)], the good-looking young guy who used to live here at 3801. I described Aristotle to Dr. Shaffer as "A Walker." -- that he appeared to take long walks [which I associated to "The Millennium March" for homosexuals]. -- As I was sitting at the computer, the custodian [Alex Chandler] who replaced Keith Peoples, bent down next to me and said: "Does that feel better?" He was talking about the air conditioning that had just been fixed. -- But I knew what he really meant. If he wanted to ask me out, he should have just said so! Oh, brother!
7-2-01 This is [imaginary] Brian's idea of protection. I keep telling him "It's not going to work, man!" [Attached is page from "Vanity Fair" magazine that features a photo of a nude male model with an inflated rubber toy covering "the area of interest."]
[Imaginary] Brian was here this weekend. You can never be too safe with that guy. "He sleeps with the dolphins." Brian charges me a late fee if I don't come on time. [Attached is a "LifeStyles" condom wrapper.] Did you ever hear of such a thing? Brian's balls are in the shop right now -- beyond repair.
7-3-01 Have the home office look into Richard & his wife -- I think they live on the sixth floor. They are middle-aged, with grown children -- both previously married. He is stocky and has white hair (a perfect running mate for Ross Perot, I might add). They moved in while John Reuss was still manager. Get the home office to look into them. I thought I heard he was in real estate -- maybe I am wrong. Dr. Shaffer was in a state yesterday. I thought she was especially aggressive, and looking for an argument. I think these letters are getting to her. The librarians have a noticeably different way of interacting around me. Very cold, frigid. It's since I started communicating to you. It's obvious to me they are reacting to something. -- That tells me my letters are being read. (Richard's wife works out in the ex[ercise] room.)
["Richard & his wife" later moved to 3701 Connecticut Avenue, a condominium.]
7-5-01 Elizabeth Joyce is very circumspect around me, knowing I will report anything of interest that she says. I noticed in the library on 7-3-01 that Barbara seems really different. No more of that sucking-up crap, like: "Oh, Mr. Freedman is our most conscientious patron. If we can trust anyone, it's Mr. Freedman." What a passive-aggressive ass-licker she is!! [The circulation desk employee] Pauline Jones was back on Tuesday. The sister looked admiringly at me. She was using heterosexual double-entendres. Carlos was there. I think somebody talked to him about me. He no longer gives me that look like I'm gonna pull him behind the stacks and hump his ass. -- Poor Carlos, I sure did give him a scare for a while. The bricks [I stole from the building site at 3883 Connecticut Avenue] are in the oven -- makes great pizza.
7-6-01 Tell David Castleberry that he's got a problem with the tenant in 436. 436 has two bird feeders attached to the outside window. First, that's a lease violation. Two, there's a potential negligence problem for WRIT if those things fall off and bop somebody on the head or crash through Elizabeth Joyce's windshield (especially, since it's a lease violation that David has acquiesced in). Third, birdseed falls down on my window ledge, and I get birds pecking on my window. Do I have to contact WRIT to get management here to enforce leases? -- Find out why the branch librarian [Brian Brown] has allowed, for years now, a patron named J. Connolly to sleep at a table in the library. Connolly is middle-aged. Gray hair. Uses (or sleeps in) library every day.
7-9-01 Here's your assignment for today: 1. Look into David Dickinson on the 9th floor. He is a lawyer who's admitted to practice in California. What's his story -- give me a report. -- 2. There used to be a married couple on the first floor. They were both obese and had a little girl named "May." Elizabeth would remember them. The woman once said to her little girl (as she pointed to me) "May, that man doesn't like children." (They were goof balls). Well, in April -- wouldn't you know, I heard the woman chatting in a familiar way with Bruce Snyder, who's now stationed at the Chevy Chase Branch of the DC Library System. Yesterday I saw them at the Giant Supermarket. They moved from 3801 in about 1995.
7-10-01 1. I was thinking of contacting Judy Glassie [a management employee at WRIT, which runs 3801 Connecticut Avenue] about a covenant not to sue WRIT. Quid pro quo -- I agree not to sue, and WRIT lowers my rent. What do you think? Talk to David Castleberry. It could, in the end, be a good investment. I was thinking of contacting WRIT's accountancy firm. 2. If I'm summoned for jury duty, I'm going to submit the entire "archives" [that is, these messages] to the chief Judge as material to the evidence placed in controversy by Chuck Reischel (Esq.) about my mental state. Wait till Judge Johnson reads these letters: "Who the hell is Brian?" [Imaginary] Brian was here last night. He said to me: "Where do you want me to put the cigar?" I said: "In the ashtray." He said: "Is that what you call it?" [A reference to President Clinton's use of a cigar to stimulate Monica Lewinsky sexually.]
7-11-01 Went to the library yesterday. While Carlos was there, the branch librarian [Brian Brown] was talking to Justin (who used to volunteer at that branch). They talked about Rock Hudson -- and his movies with Doris Day. Justin talked about being on a train -- there was a drunk on the train -- The conductor was calling Justin's name over the P.A. System. I might have all this confused, but I see it as related to me. Then, the branch librarian was talking on the telephone to somebody about the children's librarian at that branch. I thought that was a reference to Anna Freud and her work as a child analyst. Just days before I had added material to my autobiography about Anna Freud. [The patron] J. Connolly mentioned that he lived in Brazil as a Peace Corps volunteer. It just occurred to me that there were some other odd things in the conversation yesterday (7-10-01) between Justin & the branch librarian. Justin used the word "proclivities" a number of times and mentioned "young boys." All the while, Carlos Chalbaud was at the computer. Tell me that's just a coincidence!
[Attached is something cut out of a magazine: an ad for the year 1916 Tournament of Roses, Brown University vs. State College of Washington. Includes my handwritten note:] The one bending over to receive is [Akin Gump managing partner] Larry Hoffman. Brown class of 1918. Half-man, half-amazing!
[Note that the phrase "the one bending over to receive" is a symbolic reference to anal intercourse. Hoffman was the managing partner at Akin Gump during my tenure. The sexual allusion to Hoffman suggests my psychological act of discharging feelings of overstimulation by fantasizing about Hoffman being anally raped.
Note a significant contemporaneous event: The CBS-TV reality show "Big Brother 2" began airing on 7-5-01. The show has aired every summer since the year 2000. "Big Brother 2" featured my favorite contestant, Hardy Ames Hill -- an individual who might be termed a "moral narcissist." Hill protected the weaker contestants against the aggression of the stronger contestants. A newspaper article about the show referred to Hill as "The Enforcer." At a later point in the season, an aggressive contestant (who was angry with Hill) used Hill's toothbrush to scrub the toilet in the guest house. Hill was enraged, and said at one point: "You're fucking with the wrong bull, I'm telling you. You're fucking with the wrong bull." My handwritten note "Half-man, half-amazing" is a quote from a statement made by "Big Brother 2" contestant Will Kirby, MD, about himself.]
7-12-01 The date today 7-12 reminds me of my 7th grade homeroom class (712) -- the homeroom teacher was Miss Lillian Camaioni (pronounced CA - ME - OH - NEE). She told my mama at a parent/teacher conference that I was a "scholar and a gentleman" -- that was then (1965-1966). Look at me now! -- Now, down to business. So, what's the story with Michael Ellsberg (146) -- the Ellsberg kid? He graduated from Brown [University]. Couldn't he get into Harvard? The Ellsberg smart genes skip a generation? Maybe the kid's got toy trains on the brain. [Michael Ellsberg's mother, Patricia Marx Ellsberg, was the daughter of Louis Marx, the toy train manufacturer.] -- Dr. Shaffer is a nincompoop ! ! ! -- Interesting thing happened at the library yesterday (7-11). Insight into Barbara. There were two good-looking jocks in the library, using the computer (Chris Block & Mike Doyle). I noticed Barbara eyeing Doyle. She seemed to get sexual pleasure out of it. (Personally I thought Chris Block was the hot one). Then later, Barbara says to me: "Oh, Mr. Freedman, this young man (pointing to Doyle's name on the computer sign out sheet) just stepped out. I'm saving the computer for him." THAT VIOLATES THE LIBRARY RULES. Then, I came back to the library later in the afternoon. A guy named "Pablo" signed up for the computer, then stepped out, and in the interim, Barbara the librarian called out his (Pablo's) name. She put him down as a "no show" on the sign out sheet (correct procedure). I guess if you're young, hot and f---able, Barbara gives special privileges. Does this fit the profile of a vindictive, passive-aggressive wench? -- Ask [former FBI profiler] Jack Douglas. [Blocked off in corner of page:] The shit hits the fan corner. I'm thinking of driving Dennis Race up the wall by sending out inquiries to major law firms, requesting legal counsel to negotiate my covenant not to sue WRIT -- mentioning that [former Akin Gump partner and later Treasury Department General Counsel] Ed Knight approved the burglary of my apt.
[Note that this is the first message that mentions Dennis Race. The reference is associated with a negative comment about my psychologist, Nancy Shaffer, Ph.D. This tends to confirm that whenever I'm feeling angry (overstimulated) about anything (particularly my therapists), I redirect (or discharge) my hostility (or overstimulation) to Dennis Race in a passive-aggressive manner.
Psychoanalytically, note the association of the phrase "young, hot and f---able" to the remote idea of burglary of my apartment (symbolically, a violation or rape). The association to the idea of rape is related to Daniel Ellsberg: the Nixon White House approved the burglary of Ellsberg's psychiatrist's office. Ed Knight, a former Akin Gump partner, was General Counsel of the Treasury Department (the rectum? [psychoanalytically, gold = feces]) in the Clinton Administration. Note the reference to "shit" [hits the fan] and the reference to Dr. Shaffer as a nincom"poop."
Compare the message on 7-10 that refers to President Clinton's use of a cigar to stimulate a vagina. Note my apparent confusion of vagina and anus: an ashtray is a waste receptacle (like the anus or a toilet). The joking reference (in the message on 7-10) confuses "ashtray" with "vagina" (a receptacle for a penis or, in the case of Monica Lewinsky, a cigar).
Oddly enough (or "oddly enough") it would be weeks later that, on the CBS-TV series "Big Brother 2," a contestant used an implement (toothbrush) that is intended for use in the mouth to scrub the toilet (a receptacle for anal material). It is not beyond the realm of possibility that I unconsciously identified the interpersonal relations of the "Big Brother 2" contestants with early childhood relations in my family, and, at some level, foresaw (or fantasized) the interpersonal outcome of those disturbed relations. In any event, I subjectively experience this material as uncanny. It's as if these messages in early July symbolically adumbrate the later events on the TV series "Big Brother 2," namely the action of the contestant Shannon in using Hardy Hill's toothbrush to scrub the guest house toilet.
Perhaps Dr. Shengold would see this message (and those immediately preceding it) as a significant expression of feelings of "too-muchness," overstimulation, and anal violation. See message on 7-11 that contains a symbolic reference to the rape of Larry Hoffman, a graduate of "Brown" University. The Branch Librarian at the Cleveland Park division is Brian Brown.
In any event, this material supports the view that as early as the year 2001 I associated my experiences at the Cleveland Park Library to feelings of overstimulation and anal rape.]
7-13-01 Yesterday (7-12) Elizabeth Joyce gave me, what I would call, an exasperated look -- as if she wanted to say something, but, felt she had to restrain herself and say nothing [note the projection of feelings of "overstimulation" to Elizabeth Joyce, the front desk manager at my apartment building]. I infer that something has been going on. Well, was I right about [the library volunteer] Justin, or not? Amazing, eh? Assignment: There used to be a front desk person here (I specifically recall she was here in mid-1997) -- her name was Beverly -- She was a sister. She seemed to fit Drew Weston's Type I personality: Good language skills, perfectionistic, diligent, self-motivated, preoccupied with food & eating. She was especially friendly with Elizabeth, the tenant from Australia (Rickey's honey). What's Bev's story?
7-16-01 Yesterday morning (7-15-01) about 9:30 AM, walking home from the supermarket I walked past one of the former volunteers at the Cleveland Park Library. It was in front of 3801 Connecticut. She gave me an obscene look -- as only someone who knew about me would do. I don't know her name. She is short, pudgy, walks around with a Walkman radio, light hair & looks like a mongoloid (Down's Syndrome). Also last week, someone left the following issue of Smithsonian in the library magazine exchange. Was it a reference to Paul Bloom, Ph.D., or Harold Bloom -- or both? [Attached is Smithsonian magazine cover for the April 2000 issue featuring a picture of a flower with the caption "The Art of the Flower." I don't recall now who Paul Bloom, Ph.D. is.]
[The library volunteer, identified as a Down's Syndrome victim, still lives in the neighborhood.]
7-17-01 The atmosphere in the library yesterday was FRIGID -- and I'm not talking about the air temperature. Barbara was acting out in her passive aggressive way.
[Imaginary] Brian was here last night. He said to me: "Would you be angry with me if I cracked your head open with this carpet sweeper." (Brian swings carpet sweeper). I said: "Does this mean you don't want to sweep with me anymore?"
[Parody of both "Big Brother 2" and a Seinfeld episode.]
7-18-01 I sat across from Julian Bond on the northbound Red Line, yesterday afternoon (about 1:45 PM). He was wearing light tan pants, yellow print tie, and a seersucker jacket. He was reading the "Science" section of the NY Times. I thought: "There's one brother who doesn't buy custom-made shirts." But as Vernon Jordan would say: "Maybe he should."
7-19-01 This is a [vacation] postcard that my dear friend Jesse Raben sent back to the folks at my old firm [Akin Gump]. He says that all he does is sleep, ski, and eat. Of course, he left out the most important thing -- [the] flossing.
[Attached is postcard from Killington, Vermont addressed to Constance Brown: "Dear Constance & the file room -- Skiing is wonderful. Vermont is beautiful. I really hope you guys are not working too hard while all I do is sleep and ski and eat. Anyway -- I hope to see you Tuesday -- Jesse"].
[Fortunately, Raben didn't say: "P.S. Enjoyed the cabin." Then -- THEN -- I'd start to worry.]
-- In Memoriam -- Katherine Graham -- She outlived John Mitchell and she kept her tits after all.
[Refers to the death of Washington Post owner, Katherine Graham. Former Attorney General John Mitchell had made a crude remark about Graham during the Watergate matter, to which the message alludes.]
7-20-01 I have noticed that since I communicated to you about J. Connolly (the middle-aged white male who sleeps in the library), he looks intently at me when he sees me -- not angrily, or with any emotion, just the appearance of the physical behavior of looking. As I say, he didn't look at me this way in the past. Why do you think that is? Thelma (a tenant here) [now deceased] was talking to Elizabeth Joyce yesterday (7-19) -- You know, Thelma? She's friendly with that nut job, Anne Gaddis (is that her name? -- I think even Elizabeth Joyce, who is friendly with everyone, finds Anne Gaddis hard to take) -- well, Elizabeth was talking to Thelma about Thelma's dental and eye problems, and Thelma said she'd talk to Elizabeth on Sunday -- that's what I think I heard. Is Elizabeth working on Sunday? Did I hear correctly? Listen, I have a complaint. There are these couple of young people (girl and guy) -- I think one or both moved in a couple of months or weeks ago -- they drive a dark green SUV and sometimes park out under my window. Well, I had previously formed the impression that they were unusually loud -- even rowdy -- well, late yesterday afternoon or early evening (around 6:20 PM), they were drunk and rowdy, they drove up the driveway hooting and hollering, and dropped off a couple of Styrofoam coolers, numerous beer cans, what looks like a wine bottle with a cork in it -- I'm looking at the crap right now (8:00 AM 7/20). Well, they dumped that crap by the driveway side of the tool shed. Ask Sergio [one of the housekeepers] about it, -- he's parked just next to it. Well, I don't care about the mess (I can be a pig myself) -- but, the crows got to it, and, man, you would not believe how those crows went at that stuff -- like a bunch of kids at Disneyworld!! I thought it was a person out there. I looked, and it was like I was in some Hitchcock movie [with all the crows pecking at the trash]. Dark green SUV -- Check it out -- Hope to get lucky this weekend. Later, --
7-23-01 The pigs with the dark green SUV dumped a bit more trash out by the tool shed on Saturday. The clean-up guy who came Sunday morning (7-22) had to clean it up. I caught the license no. -- TEXAS LICENSE NO. RCZ 52L -- It's a jeep Grand Cherokee -- (Dark Green) -- probably friends of Bob Strauss. Friday afternoon Jerry Zwirn came to visit at the library & chatted with Velvel Dacosta. Jerry used to be a librarian at Cleveland Park -- till he retired earlier this year. The branch librarian [Brian Brown] talks in hushed tones when he talks about where Jerry went -- obviously, the branch librarian (I think his name is Brown) doesn't want me to know where Jerry is. Anyway, in the conversation between Dacosta and Jerry Z., Dacosta used words and phrases that I thought were directed at me, symbolically.
Dacosta used the phrases:
The Central Library -- [a manifest reference to MLK] which I took to be a [symbolic] reference to my old high school
Brian is going on vacation (whoever "Brian" is) Jesse Raben's vacation in Vermont?
I don't know where he's going. He's not going to Italy (I went to Italy 23 years ago) Jesse Raben's vacation in Vermont?
10-mile hike -- possible reference to Aristotle [Ari], who used to be a tenant at 3801
Hold -- masturbation
Cute -- something sexual there -- Jesse Raben was not cute -- he was smooth but masculine, his hands were milky white
"For the birds" -- Jesse Raben (Raben = Raven) [Raben = Raven = Crow, see message at 7/20/01]
7-24-01 Yesterday (7-23), at the library, somebody ripped-off Barbara's wallet. Don't you know, Hillary asks ME and only ME if I saw anything. So if I'm observant and see things, I'm labeled "paranoid." But if I don't see anything -- like who it was who stole Barbara's wallet, then I'm no good either. Did you have David Castleberry talk to those pigs from Texas who dumped their trash by the tool shed? You should do that. Let that be your assignment for today. Pauline [Jones] & Charles Davis in the library had good feelings about me yesterday -- I could tell -- it's one of my powers.
7-25-01 Yesterday, at the library another strange coincidence occurred. In the magazine exchange someone had left a magazine on top of the others. The magazine was the March 2000 issue of "Outside" -- a sports magazine for outdoorsmen. The magazine was folded in a way that the contents of two pages were revealed. Over to the side [pointing arrow], I show you how it appeared. One page has the words "It's not a feeling you can get" -- the facing page depicts a man swimming with dolphins. [See message dated 6/20/01.] Incidentally, the head librarian started his vacation on Monday -- I think his name is Brown. Do you believe them -- they are so blatant! I'm thinking of sending this to the FBI ("Freaks Behind the Instigating").
7-26-01 This past weekend (7/20-7/21) I heard David Dickinson (or the person I think is David Dickinson -- I don't really know who he is)-- well, Dickinson was in the lobby talking to a young lady about "Matsui." I had no idea who that was. All I heard was "Matsui, Matsui," -- and references to the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII. Then, yesterday, I found out that "Matsui" is Robert Matsui, a Congressman from California. -- Your assignment for today -- Find out what David Dickinson has to do with Matsui -- and what Matsui has to do with all this. Get on it! David Dickinson is openly bi-coastal.
[Dickinson is originally from California, and is licensed to practice law there.]
7-27-01 Not much to report. I picked up a possible reference to Toni Morrison at the library yesterday. --"It's not LIKE anything else." That's what Professor Morrison says: "I'm not LIKE Faulkner, I'm not LIKE -- etc." When I was at Cleveland Park Liquor yesterday to pick up a six-pack -- the chief guy -- the "Nabob" -- he had that admiring quality and Robbie had a funny quality to his "Thank you." Elizabeth Joyce has been in this "walking-on-eggshells" state since I've been writing to you. Does she know she'll be prosecuted if the authorities find out about her activities? -- It would be a shame if she spends the last years of her life behind steel bars. ASSIGNMENT: What does Darla know? -- She's Elizabeth's bosom buddy.
[Darla used to work in the rental office at 3801.]
7-30-01 Brief message -- But it's a major assignment: Neil Sagot's first wife, Lois Sagot, had a close friend named Flossie -- find out what she knows. FOR THE COINCIDENCE FILE: A day after I mentioned Robert Matsui to you, the following issue of Sports Illustrated made its way to the top of the magazine pile at the library. [Attached is cover of Sports Illustrated for May 28, 2001 featuring a photo with caption: "Red Hot. Japanese sensation Ichiro Suzuki of the Seattle Mariners."]
7-31-01 Mailing in my attorney license form, I got to thinking about what happens when I send these documents ("The Archives") to the U.S. District Court -- as submit them I perforce must.-- If I am summoned for jury duty. As you know Neil Sagot (a Pennsylvania lawyer) filed a fraudulent lawsuit on behalf of my brother-in-law in 1977. That's fraud. Is there a statute of limitations to that? When Judge Johnson reads these documents, what will she do? Can I direct her not to read certain passages? Can I make it known that I never colluded in insurance fraud, illegality, or any act of moral turpitude (other than masturbating on the roof of 3801 Connecticut Avenue)?
8-1-01 My brother-in-law had a friend Arthur Calhoun ("Art") -- they rented office space in the same suite. Art attended my mother's funeral in 1980. Art liked to dabble in homosexual liaisons. He and his wife, Joy Calhoun, divorced. Find out what Joy knows -- they had a son named Chris who would be about 30 years old now.
"For the German-Jewish Emigre File." In the early 1940's my mother worked with a young female German-Jewish immigrant named Hertha. In about 1945, Hertha married another German-Jewish immigrant named Helmut Haas. They got married on a Saturday evening (after sundown -- of course!). My mother attended the wedding. Helmut & Hertha Haas later lived down the street from us on the 1600 block of Barringer Street in Philadelphia. They had a young daughter. Hertha said that Claire Brister [1613 Barringer Street] tried to befriend her. I think Hertha said she didn't care for Claire -- Can you imagine? Maybe Chuck Strauss knew the Haas family.
I have a theory that Elizabeth Joyce is actually the illegitimate daughter of Adolf Hitler and the Queen Mother (Elizabeth Bowles). If you think about it, it all begins to make sense.
Joyce was born in 1930
She speaks with a British accent
She's from London
She doesn't talk about her father (Let's face it -- if Hitler were your father, would you be talking about him?)
She works in a confined area behind the front desk -- and seems happy doing it (consistent with her being raised in the basement of Windsor Castle).
She won't retire, just like her half-sister, Elizabeth Windsor
She used to manage properties -- again, like the Queen.
8-2-01 I've been watching a summer TV show called "Big Brother" -- on CBS 3x/week. It's been on since July 5, 2001. Tuesday July 31, 2001, I talked about the show for the first time with Dr. Shaffer, my psychologist. I offered Dr. Shaffer some of my observations and insights about the show. The show was on last summer -- last summer, the show featured a consultant (Dr. [David Drew] Pinsky) who gave his observations about the interpersonal stuff on the show. Where is this leading you ask? Yesterday, at the library (8-1-2001), on the top of the magazine exchange was the attached issue of the NY Times Book Review (7/29/01) folded in such a way, as shown below, that the phrase "Reviewed by Robert Pinsky" appears noticeably.
8-3-01 In early October 1987, Daniel Cutler told me that, sometime previous, he had been to a party where he witnessed local TV anchorman Jim Vance using cocaine. Check this out. It was Daniel Cutler who I believe purchased marijuana on company time [at Hogan & Hartson] and distributed it to selected coworkers in about April 1987. Message for Judge Johnson -- Ignore this page!
8-6-01 I had a really paranoid experience at the barber on Friday (8-3). First of all, the owner "The Maestro" (Puglisi) wasn't there. A young, good-looking (but slightly chubby), Spanish-speaking guy cut my hair. By the way, excellent haircut, dude! But, anyway, the young barber used words and phrases that seemed aimed at me personally, and [it seemed] that he knew about my personal background, and [that he was] referring to personal facts. (The possibility is that someone who read my dream "Prelude to a Bris" -- about Jerry Seinfeld (May '98), [and] mentions Il Maestro (Puglisi) -- and that someone contacted the shop. Anyway, I thought the barber was testing me -- trying to see if he could get me hot and bothered. I could give you the words and phrases he used, but that would be meaningless to an outsider, like you. Later--
8-7-01 A few interesting developments yesterday. I saw Carlos [Chalbaud] yesterday, as I was walking home from the library. He averted his gaze. But he had a pained expression on his face. (It reminded me of the expression that David Callet, Esq. had, sometimes, when I saw him). Why would that be? What is Carlos reacting to? You tell me!
Earlier, I had confirmation of my insightfulness about Barbara, the librarian. A young man (with his small child) wanted to use the library telephone at the information desk. His name was Robert. -- Like it was something really important. Barbara said: "We're really not supposed to let patrons use the phone -- but go ahead. Make it brief." Robert proceeded to use the phone to place an order for Mexican food! -- So she lets the young attractive guy break the rules. A brief time later, an old woman (nanny) with a couple [of] small children asked Barbara if she would place a call for the old woman for a cab. Barbara turned her away -- and suggested the old woman use the pay phone at CVS across the street. Do I know Barbara? You tell me! Exactly as I pointed out before. If you're not young, male, and fuckable, don't bother asking Barbara for a favor. As Anna Freud would say: "He was right the first time."
8-9-01 Slow news day yesterday. I had the feeling, though, that Barbara the librarian knew what I wrote about her to you. I have to tell you, -- after my morning shower -- especially in the summer, I like to walk around my apartment naked -- totally nudam -- as the ancient Romans would say. I think it gets to those Clark construction guys -- I like to fuck with their heads. By the way, I got the message about the WRIT survey. I can't promise I won't tell them about Elaine Wranik and the other related & crazy goings on here. Sorry, dude.
[At the time Clark Construction Company was building an apartment adjacent to 3801 Connecticut Avenue. My apartment window was directly across from the construction site.
The Washington Real Estate Investment Trust (WRIT) sent a resident satisfaction survey to residents to fill out.]
8-9-01 Pardon the mess in here, but I'm on a roll. In fact, I'm too busy to write today.
8-10-01 I filled out that survey & gave it to David Castleberry to mail in. We really need on-line rent payment! Could you talk to David or Judy [Glassie] about that? Yesterday, I assigned special meaning to certain phrases the librarians used. Barbara referred, in a loud tone to "CIA" or "Central Intelligence Agency" & Velvel used the word "scenario." In the magazine box, there were a lot of magazines about astronomy. (Galileo, Berendson?)
[Richard Berendson, an astronomer, is the past president of American University, where I earned an LL.M. degree. He was a victim of child sexual abuse, and wrote a book about his experiences. I formed the impression that Akin Gump managers had contacted Berendson.]
8-13-01 Yesterday (Sunday) I went to the Brookville market to buy a tomato. [The owner] Mike Shirazzi saw me, and noticeably and unmistakably turned away & avoided eye contact. He usually says hello. Assignment for today: My brother-in-law had a friend named Bert Shaman, who, I believe, was a few years older than my brother-in-law. Bert's wife's name was Esther. Bert had a brother who was religious and moved to Israel. Find out more about the Shaman meshpuchah. Incidentally, Wednesday is Vernon Jordan's birthday -- what do we get him?
8-14-01 This is background on my sister -- specifically, her romantic involvements prior to her meeting her future husband in February 1965 -- when she was 17 years old. It won't take more than a page. My sister met her future husband by way of a friend at my sister's high school (an all-girls school). Coincidentally, my brother-in-law had previously "dated" the older sister of Alice Diamond, who was a classmate of mine in the 7th grade (Wagner Jr. High). I guess you could say the Diamond family's gain was the Freedman family's loss. Alice Diamond played violin in the school orchestra. I once told her that she resembled Queen Victoria. My sister had one previous "boyfriend." He was the cousin of my sister's close friend Nedda Weiss (nee Cohen). He was a few years older than my sister, and was a student at the University of Pennsylvania -- my sister was in the 11th grade at the time. I don't remember his name. I have to laugh when my psychologist, Dr. Shaffer, praises my sister's social adjustment. Basically, my sister was conned by a psychopath at age 17.
8-15-01 Brief note -- but big assignment. Gabriella Komlos. Pennsylvania State University, BS, May 1975 (Nutrition Major). Parents were concentration camp survivors from Hungary (Magyar). (Note the preoccupation with food, as evidenced by her field of study). [See Freedman, M. "Survivor Guilt and the Pathogenesis of Anorexia Nervosa, "Psychiatry," February 1985.] We attended the same Junior High School (Wagner Jr. High). She played violin in the school Orchestra. She spotted me once at Penn State -- during a performance of Handel's Messiah at Christmas time. She noticed I didn't stand during the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus.
8-16-01 So, what did you end up getting Vernon Jordan for his birthday? I didn't get him anything. What did he ever do for me? We all know the answer to that. I don't have much to talk about today. I saw Carlos on the street yesterday. I don't see him in the library anymore. What happened? Did Carlos get his own computer? I have a funny feeling about that tenant who lives with his young son. He used to smile when he saw me. Now he looks at me really strangely. You know who I mean? He speaks with a British-like accent -- Like South African or something. Where do you get these creeps?
[The son's name was "Sebastian."]
8-17-01 I had a big one this morning -- man, did that white sticky stuff fly! I don't have any material left to share-- See ya.
8-20-01 I have another different assignment for you, but I know you can do it, brother. As you know, in 1990 I told Dr. Palombo that I had a classmate in elementary school named Susan Marks; she had a genius level IQ. Well, of course, Dr. Palombo told "The Powers that Be" and they contacted Susan Marks (in 1990 & perhaps thereafter). Susan Marks would have graduated from the Philadelphia High School for Girls ("Girls High") in the year 1970 (211th graduating class). What I never told anyone is that Susan Marks had a female cousin, the same age as she, who was in my seventh grade homeroom class at Wagner Junior High School. I do not recall the cousin's name. The cousin's mother (Susan Marks' aunt) died when the Marks cousins were about 11 years old. (Cancer, I believe).
8-21-01 This is just a reminder. As you know I had two school mates in elementary school (K-6) (Rowan Elementary School -- "Education is not a mere means to Life -- Education is Life" -- if you don't get it, you don't get it.) They were fraternal twins -- Steven and Howard Chanin. [Central High School, 229th class, 1970.] I knew them in high school. Their parents owned a grill eatery in the neighborhood. They majored in psychology at Penn State. What you may not know is that they had two older brothers. One of their older brothers was a mathematical genius (literally). -- Robert Chanin. He went to Penn State as a Guggenheim Scholar (225th Class CHS). He was smarter than [Stanford University Math Professor] Robert Osserman -- but probably not as smart as Earl Segal. (Yea, sure!)
8-22-01 Who's the new guy in apt 137? Is he an orgy guy? Do you think David Castleberry would let me punch a hole through the wall between 136 & 137? Invite some folks over -- and let the good times roll. Plenty of egress and ingress. Know what I mean? I could invite my [imaginary] friend Brian -- his two-inch penis would be a real conversation piece (Message for Blair -- Give my regards to Tootie and Mrs. Garrett -- Thanks).
8-23-01 As you know I had a friend in elementary school named Lee Fuiman and that on one occasion I went to Lee Fuiman's birthday party at his house. What I never told anybody was that there was another kid at the party -- another classmate named Raymond Weisbein (a smartass). Weisbein also went to my high school. At the Fuiman birthday party Weisbein said to me: "I wish you hadn't been invited, Freedman," and he proceeded to tell me how he disliked me. Then in September 1967 -- freshman algebra in high school, Weisbein complained to the teacher (Mr. Nicholas Grant) that he (Weisbein) thought the teacher assigned too much homework. (As I said: --Smartass). Well, the teacher blew up at Weisbein -- "If you want less homework, there are a lot of other high schools where you can get less homework -- Go to Olney, or Germantown, or South Philadelphia." I thought: "Payback time, baby, payback time." By the way, did you ever stop to think that Urbana spelled backwards is "Anabru" -- if you don't get it, you don't get it.
[Lee Fuiman, Ph.D. is now a marine biologist.]
8-24-01 Someone I forgot to mention from High School freshman algebra: Joe Breitman. He's now a dentist and a member, a proud member, a proud, card-carrying member of the Scottish-Jewish Defense League. Arlen Specter truly represents Breitman's interests in the U.S. Senate. Also, please don't tell Elizabeth Joyce that I steal tea bags & Sweet & Low. She doesn't know and doesn't need to know.
[Breitman played the bagpipes in high school.]
8-30-01 I had a session with my psychologist, Dr. Shaffer yesterday. It was a wild scene. She became really discombobulated. If you heard a tape of it you'd really be shocked by her behavior -- she regressed really bad. She doesn't seem to understand I could really screw her. I was thinking of starting up a "pen pal" relationship with a staff attorney (anyone would do -- maybe Ross Wiener, Esq.) at the Justice Department. Not any inflammatory things -- Just my thoughts and feelings. That guy is going to wonder -- "What the hell is going on here--? Why can't he discuss these things with his therapist?" It will be the beginning of the end for Dr. Sh--. Believe me that crap is neither beyond me nor behind me (no pun intended). I can fire the missiles from the silo at any time. Anyway, I couldn't even talk about anything that was on my mind yesterday. And Dr. Sh-- is the only outlet I have. Can you say EXTREME LACK OF EMPATHY boys and girls? Help me! HELP ME! It may be my imagination, or my projection -- but it just seems to me that she becomes really difficult to work with at some sessions immediately preceding a holiday. The last session where she went off, coincidentally, was in late June -- just before July 4th. Then THE WORST session I ever had with her was one just before Christmas in 1999 (I think it was Dec. 22, 1999). She spent the whole session bitching about a letter I had written to Dr. [Albert H.] Taub in late October '99 -- which she had just received. She was in a terrible state about that. Talk about hypersensitive. I have more to say -- But, I'll save it for tomorrow. By the way, do you have the address for the Justice Department?
[Ross Wiener, Esq., practiced law at The Department of Justice. I suspected (but never confirmed) that he was the son of the late Jerry M. Wiener, MD, former head of the psychiatry department at GW. Dr. Wiener had a son named Ross who would have been the same age as Ross Wiener, Esq.]
8-27-01 Assignment. My brother-in-law had a cousin Joyce Norman (nee Robbins). She was divorced from her first husband, Freddie Norman. Freddie Norman, I believe, graduated from Penn State. My brother-in-law's parents resided in a duplex apartment -- Joyce Norman's parents, Sam & Francis Robbins, lived upstairs. Look into Freddie Norman -- what does he know, and when did he know it? Report back to me. Message for Carlos -- Hector is very lonely. Won't you come and play with Hector?
8-28-01 Fall 1971 -- 30 years ago -- Freshman year at college (Penn State -- Abington campus). I took a course in philosophy taught by George Frederick Rieman -- (Yes, just like the famous mathematician of the same name). In that class were two people I had known previously-- William ("Bill") DeVuono -- Central High School (230th class) [and] Gloria Goldsmith -- Wagner Junior High School, 7th & 8th grades. Get me a report! ASAP
8-29-01 I thought I'd give you a break today. I know you've been working hard. -- I've given you some major assignments. I'm still waiting for your reports. Get them to me ASAP. By the way, I noticed this morning that Elizabeth Joyce has a new attitude about my tea bag/Sweet-Low proclivities. A hands-off policy. So you talked -- when I asked you not to!
8-31-01 Ninth grade English class. Elliott Cades ("Ming the Merciless") was the teacher (1903-1986). This was school year 1967-68. A student named Elliott Feldman sat next to me. He was supersmart. We didn't say anything to each other all year. But in about June 1968 I came to school in bright yellow pants (canary-shit color). Feldman said: "Wow." There's a lawyer in Philadelphia named Elliott R. Feldman (born 4-15-54) BA/JD Temple U (summa cum laude/cum laude). Do you think it's the same person? Look into that -- will you please? Thanks. I'm fed up with Dr. Sh-- for now.
9-3-01 How was your holiday? I gave you a break yesterday. I hope you appreciate that! Now let's get down to business: from August 1980 - August 1983 I resided at an apartment house in downtown Philadelphia, "The Sylvania House." Address -- 1324 Locust Street -- Apartment 415,. (I lived there immediately prior to relocating to 3801 Connecticut, DC). My next-door neighbor during the (ran out of ink--sorry) entire period (8/80-8/83) was an individual named E. Chambers Fowler (E. = Edward). Subject was a white male, between 35-45 years of age. A practicing homosexual. Worked at PSFS -- a local bank (Philadelphia Saving Fund Society). Subject was a Navy veteran. Subject visited mother every weekend. Left after work, Friday afternoon and returned Sunday night. Apartment manager was a woman named "Claire" (last name unknown) -- appeared to be Jewish.
9-5-01 This is going back a ways. I don't know if you will find anything on this: During the period August 1979 - August 1980 I lived in Spokane, Washington (then represented in Congress by Akin Gump partner Thomas Foley.) I resided at E15 1/2 Augusta, Spokane 99207. My next-door neighbor was an older gentleman who rode a motorcycle. His name was Dale Green. The rental agent was James T. Bertis Realty. My telephone no. was (509) 322-2017. I ran a drug-smuggling operation from that site. Did a lot of business with the Pacific rim.
9-6-01 I saw Dr. Ruttenberg for the first time yesterday (9-5). She recommended that I take anti-psychotic medication (Zyprexa). She says you don't really come into my apartment every day. Silly Lady!! I think I'll try it (the med). It won't work, because my ideas are not delusions. I'm going to send out letters soliciting legal counsel for a lawsuit against Akin Gump. Put down in writing the whole crap about the guns, the fears of homicide. The "purely coincidental" fact that the U.S. Secret Service refused to investigate while at the same time a former Akin Gump partner (Ed Knight) was General Counsel of Treasury. This is going to every major law firm -- with Dennis Race's telephone number on it. But hey -- If my thinking is delusional & the meds work, of course, I'll stop writing the letters -- get it? Dr. Ruttenberg is going to have heck to pay!!!
[Note again that my anger toward my psychiatrist is redirected to Dennis Race.]
9-7-01 I gave a lot of thought to the matter and have decided on the following course of action. I will forward to Dennis Race and Dr. Ruttenberg (and the U.S. Attorney) a copy of (1) the informed consent statement I submitted to Dr. Taub & (2) the statement affirming my continued adherence to a body of beliefs, placed in controversy by the Corporation Counsel, -- beliefs termed delusional. I will include a Consent to Release confidential psychiatric information to Akin Gump. I will request Dennis Race to review the documents & advise Dr. Ruttenberg of any facts about which he or his partners have first-hand knowledge that would affect Dr. Ruttenberg's diagnostic determination that my beliefs are delusional and her medical recommendation (which I will accept) that I take anti-psychotic drug(s). -- If Dennis Race does not provide to Dr. Ruttenberg information material to her decision to prescribe a neuroleptic (which I will take) -- that's the material current harm. I will then advise D. Race that I plan to find a lawyer & sue Akin Gump. To make a long story short -- I vote to evict Dennis Race.
9-10-01 Here are some more people you may want to look into: I believe one or more of the following persons have been contacted by Akin Gump:
Michael Strong, MD: Cardiothoracic surgeon, now affiliated with Hahneman Hospital in Philadelphia. Operated on my father in 1976. Born in 1941.
Gerald Lemole, MD: Cardiologist -- Head of my father' surgical team. Nationally prominent cardiologist.
Mehmet Oz, MD: Nationally prominent cardiologist -- son-in-law of Dr. Lemole. Article about Dr. Oz in The NY Times Magazine in about the year 1995.
[Arrow pointing left.] This is a mint condition $4.00 magazine. Take it back if you want it. It's a "sin" to throw these things away. What about poor sick people in hospitals?
9-11-01 Do you notice that it's getting darker and darker in here? I think Clark [Construction Company] just got it's own little easement -- Ask Earl about that. Did they pay you for that? You know the electric usage is going to go up here, because this entire side of the building [will be dark] -- Tenants will have to have their lights on all day long when they're home. Suggestion, don't rent any apartments on this side of the building to retired people or psychotics like me. If you ask me, Judy [Glassie] ought to call Clark and tell them: "Just pull the whole thing down, put the dirt back where you found it -- and replant the trees!!"
9-12-01 The bombing in New York yesterday reminded me of an additional person you need to look into: During the summers of 1975 & 1976 I worked at The Franklin Institute in Philadelphia with a young woman named Joan Fleischman. Subject was a college student enrolled at Temple University. I believe Akin Gump contacted subject in the spring or summer of 1991. Akin Gump was probably alerted to subject by Sid Dorfman (Central High School, 1966, 225th class) (Temple U., B.S., 1970). Ask Dorfman about the great snow storm on Christmas eve 1966. Anyway, Fleischman's parents were Jewish immigrants from Nazi Germany. She stated that from her parent's stories she herself was terrified of bombings and flying glass. Remember 1938? Very bad year.
9-12-01 [supplement] You may not believe this, but I wrote the following note before I heard about the buildings being leveled in NYC yesterday -- Amazing, huh?
[Refers back to statement in message dated 9-11-01 -- "If you ask me, Judy [Glassie] ought to call Clark and tell them: "Just pull the whole thing down, put the dirt back where you found it -- and replant the trees!!"]
9-13-01 I have uncovered what may prove to be an important lead in this case. This concerns Jerrold Zwirn ("Jerry"). Subject was employed as a full-time librarian at the Cleveland Park Branch of the DC library system from at least 1991 until his resignation from the system earlier this year. He now works for an as yet unidentified employer. Subject worked closely with the head librarian [Brian Brown] (a nice young man, whose name escapes me). I believe subject (Zwirn) had full access to all the information about me that was channeled to the library staff. I have just learned that subject served as a "community observer," for a study of the DC Superior Court carried out by the Council for Court Excellence. Subject is also a veteran of the U.S. Army and is originally from New York City. Your assignment -- Look into this.
[Attached is cover of report "Council for Court Excellence. Report and Recommendations of the Court Community Observers Project in the District of Columbia Superior Court and its Civil Division. July 2001." Includes handwritten note:] I may contact Chief Judge King about this.
9-14-01 I know this has been a rough week, so I won't give you an assignment.-- Just some information. 1. Tom Pierce in 926 is a homosexual 2. Jeremy Schwartz in 429 is a lawyer. Also, I need a report on Jerry Zwirn. Did you find out anything?
[I did not know either Tom Pierce or Jeremy Schwartz.]
9-18-01 First -- Medication -- As you know my psychiatrist has recommended antipsychotic meds, but refuses to provide a written informed consent. I did some research; under AMA policies, a doctor is strongly recommended to provide written informed consent (AMA Policy E-8.08). Check out the AMA website. Also under the D.C. Code, the ethical standards set by the various medical professional organizations are enforceable under District law. If Dr. "R" refuses to provide written informed consent I may contact the U.S. Attorney's Office. Also, Dr. "R" used fallacious reasoning in refusing to provide a written informed consent. She said basically, "Since I am not requiring that you take meds, that is, you may refuse treatment, I (Dr. R) have no duty to sign a statement." WRONG!! The triggering event for informed consent is the patient's act of embarking on a treatment procedure. The triggering event for informed consent is not that the patient is required to embark on a treatment or procedure. Poor reasoning, Dr. R! Under the AMA policy statement I have a right to know:
1. What is my diagnosis
2. The nature and purpose of the treatment (if my thinking is delusional, what portion of my thinking constitutes the delusions)
3. Risks/benefits - (If I take meds, will I no longer believe I was terminated illegally? Will I no longer believe my supervisor is a court-adjudicated racist?)
4. Alternatives (regardless of cost, or availability at Spring Rd)
5. Risks/Benefits of alternatives
6 Risk/Benefits of not receiving alternative care
Also, your night [front desk] person, Stanley, is a nut case. This morning before 7:00 AM, I got some coffee and was looking through the discarded mail. I did this for about 45 seconds. Stanley saw me, was watching me, and didn't say a word, when I walked over to the discard boxes (which were not labeled "Do not touch") and I heard him mutter -- "God damn trash picker" -- Why did he stand there and say nothing while I was "In flagrante Delicto" -- passive aggressive fellow.
9-17-01 A small, peculiar thing happened on Friday (9-14-01), which I read meaning into. As I was walking up Connecticut Avenue, from the library, I passed by a regular library patron, Jeremy Wittes. Subject is unusually friendly with everyone and always calls out to me to say hello. But on Friday he was looking down as he passed me and said nothing. I assume someone has talked to subject about me.
9-19-01 All Quiet on the Western Front -- All I can say is -- At least the sister made it farther than the good-looking white boy.
[Refers to CBS-TV series "Big Brother 2." Hardy Ames Hill was evicted before the African-American contestant, Monica Bailey.]
9-20-01 Last week someone left the attached book by Linda Miller in the magazine exchange in the Cleveland Park Branch of the DC library system. I had previously told my psychologist [Dr. Shaffer] that my high school French teacher was named Linda Miller. I feel like I'm being psychologically raped every day of the week!
The only way I have to work off the extreme tension is to whack off on the floor next to the window -- I find that exhibitionism negates intrusion (rape). HELP ME! HELP ME!
[Attached is cover of romance novel by Linda Lael Miller titled "Just Kate," published by Silhouette Desire. My high school French teacher, Linda Miller, was young and physically attractive. Fredric L. Cohen, MD, was one of her students.]
9-21-01 People say: "What does he want?" "What will make him stop?" -- How about if I just get my job back -- is that a lot for a "perfect" employee to ask? Maybe Judy [Glassie] could talk to WRIT's lawyers and have them talk to Dennis Race. By the way -- I have a seven-digit number in my head (The last two digits are "28") [Refers to Dennis Race's office telephone number, 887-4028]. Here's what I'm thinking -- I could find out what law firm represents Clark [Construction Company] and send them a letter with some interesting documents attached. I tell them that I was "raped" by friends of President Clinton -- Now that's an attention grabber. Explain that I'm forced to whack off in public -- It's a consequence of my "rape" -- and ask for a written statement directing me to cease the activity. (Akin Gump gave me the name -- hey -- I'm just playin' the game!)
9-24-01 Strange coincidence on Friday at the library-- On Thursday (9-20) I gave my psychologist [Dr. Shaffer] some written material about novelist Michael Chabon, and I scrawled a notation on the material. In the notation I referred to the psychoanalyst Heinz Kohut [now deceased]. On Friday, at the library, someone left the attached document in the magazine exchange. -- The document is a press release from the Pew Research Center -- and the director's name is Andrew KOHUT. The document was folded exactly as you see it, to the right, drawing attention to Kohut's name.
9-25-01 Assignment -- Look into Lewis Lipshutz. Subject was in my graduating class (230) at Central High School (1971). Subject took piano lessons with Elisabeth Griffith, my piano teacher. Subject performed at piano recital given by Griffith in June 1968 at the Strawbridge & Clothier Dept store in Jenkintown, PA. Subject (I believe) was in my 9th grade algebra I class (first period '67-'68 -- Nicholas Grant, teacher). In spring 1972 (first year college) I took a phys ed course -- bowling -- class was held at the Del Ennis Bowling Lanes in the Northeast Sect of Phila -- used to see subject there.
[Lewis Lipshutz is now deceased.]
9-26-01 No assignment today -- You need to get on the assignment I gave you yesterday. Just a word on what's been going on in the Big Brother House -- [Attached is photo of President Bush captioned "The battle ahead." Includes my own handwritten caption attributing the following statement to President Bush:] You're fucking with the wrong bull, I'm telling you. You're fucking with the wrong bull.
9-27-01 God Bless America. [Hand drawn picture of U.S. flag.] I told my psychologist [Dr. Shaffer] yesterday about my war preparation plans. I plan to seal my windows with duck tape -- this is a protective measure against germ/chem warfare. Also, I want to get a gas mask. I already have a 7-months food supply on hand, but I need a store of water. I think David Castleberry needs to seal the whole building -- and think about other civil defense issues. I think a revolving door at the front entrance is advisable. Close the garage -- People will just have to park somewhere else. -- Carlos, wherever you are, take care of yourself. Good yontif, y'all. (Dave & Jesse).
[Refers to Jesse Raben and his brother, David Raben, MD, a radiologist who practices in Montgomery, Alabama. The Rabens are from Greensboro, North Carolina. The phrase "Good yontif" refers to the upcoming Jewish High Holidays.]
9-28-01 I think Dennis Race should take a cue from President Ford. In 1974 Ford concluded that it was simply more practical to pardon President Nixon, than to let things drag on indefinitely -- with prosecutions and so forth. That's what DMR needs to be thinking -- Is it better to have a loose cannon out there -- or bring him back (pardon him, if you will) where we're in a position to control him. So, anyway "Clark [Construction Company]" says to me -- "Where do you do it?" I say: "On the floor." Clark says: "When?' I say: "7:00, 7:30. Mornings." Clark says -- "Ever do it later in the day?" I say: "Fuck NO -- What do you think I am? -- Some kind of PERVERT? In the middle of the day??"
[Refers to my masturbating in front of the construction workers employed by Clark Construction Company. Note the association to "loose cannon," a phallic projectile object; the phrase "loose" cannon suggests "out-of-control" sexuality.]
10-01-01 I thought I'd start off October with a light assignment. Don't put much time into it. Kramer or Cramer. (Don't recall the spelling). He was a year ahead of me in high school, that is, 229th class -- 1970). Outstanding pianist. Played the celesta part in the performance of excerpts from Strauss' "Der Rosenkavalier" our high school orchestra did in March 1968. -- He was a homosexual. Reason I mention him -- He was the only homosexual I knew about in high school. I didn't know him. He didn't know me. The Chanin brothers knew him (not in a biblical sense).
10-02-01 Assignment -- Look into Charles Leon Green ("Chas"). We worked together as agency temps at Hogan & Hartson from Sept - Dec 1985, for a client named AVCO (billing partner, William Bradford, Esq.). Subject was born in about 1960; graduated Bethesda-Chevy Chase HS in about 1978; bachelor's degree U. Maryland (about 1982); Emory Univ. Law School (about 1985). Published paper in law school bankruptcy journal; trained as a chef. Upper middle-class background. Girlfriend named Karla Grasse (cohabited). Grandfather was law professor at Yale Law School. Joined Army JAG Corps in 1986. Current whereabouts unknown. We spent some time talking about renaissance men and the ever-popular pastime of recreational whacking off. Knew Sandra Smalls (data-entry operator at Hogan). Knew she was a scam artist. Once said to me: "Someday you're going to screw around with the wrong person, and they're going to find your body, face down, floating down the Potomac, with a knife in your back." That day may be approaching.