Miami Crack Cops On Parade



Again, I expect to be murdered. It is that I tell truth.

Nothing but truth and consequences.

Marc is not gay, but he wishes he had been,

Reid

As I was when Marc and I met in the late 1980s.

In 1990 I am thirty six years old. My back is about to get blown out in...August.
Life will change abruptly with a total rupture of that disk.

Marc? I am now explaining myself. I still love you. The pain, though, was not endurable.
Drugs were the only recourse, other than suicide. I am not a suicide, Marc. Nor you.


I was a pretty cute scoop of ice cream. I had, perhaps, four hundred guys in my laps over time.
I never had Marc, but he knew he was welcome. Marc, as you agree, there is nothing unnatural
about male attraction for one another. It was built into me by "God" or nature. No-one ever molested
nor influenced child-reid. The fears we have of sex are planted by societal pressures. I learned
long ago, at fourteen, that preference is not a choice. What is a choice, Marc, is how we deport
ourselves...how much truth we are willing to share with the world. Marc? I am the truth.

Tortured, then beaten to die by G. Linares of MPD, Marc, I did not die.

I will die for you Marc if I might save your soul.


Reid

http://www.oldwireroadchurch.com/matthew-1034-37.php

[SIZE= 18px]http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson[/SIZE]

Reviewer: Logical -
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- August 24, 2007
Subject: Appreciated here
What serendipity: you present here a broadcast that aired on the very day that my paternal grandfather died (May 6th, 1945).

Coincidence: PB Welch was born the same year as ******, died suddenly one week after ******.

Coincidence: Pearson was my paternal grandmother's first cousin.
That makes him my first cousin twice removed.

I've never heard a Pearson broadcast before, so this is a treat. But it touches me to know that
he's speaking at the same time that my grandfather
had just died.

Their elder son of two sons, my uncle Paul, was in Europe at that moment. Letters did not get to Paul jr.

As late as the first week of July, '45, Paul wrote to his folks back home, "Mom, Dad, I'm coming home in August! I can hardly wait. It'll be so great to see you all again."
(He didn't know his dad was dead)

FIFTY NINE YEARS later, a call came to me from the current owners of that home that PB built,

"Reid, we had workmen here last month. They removed a faulty plaster section in the master bathroom. Something fell to the floor from the attic crawl space above."

Paul Welch Jr. had returned home from France in August.
He lived at home for year or so, taking care of his widowed mother (Pearson's cousin). Paul came home with the usual war booty souvenirs: a Lugar pistol, maps, etc.

How that Nazi SS knife ended on the floor of the bathroom, almost fifty nine years after Paul had hidden it? Why did Paul bury the dagger into the vermiculite up there?

I can guess, because I knew my grandmother's personality. She'd had enough horror. I just bet that Fern saw that dagger and demanded to son Paul,
"NOT in my house. No, you get rid of that dreadful thing right now."

And I posit that Paul put the dagger into that hiding place then and there,and forgot about it.

Paul died about the year 2000.

On May 6th, 2004, Beryl Fournier rang my home phone:

"...Reid, we think you should have it to give to your Uncle Paul."

"He's dead now."

"Well, then it should be with you. Can you come over?"

I visited my boyhood home again for the first time in decades. I came home with this thing I'll show you in the next form.

And so I close this posting, it was no review.
But, instead, another incredible confluence of dates, chance, history, kindness and rememberance
of the dead, of those (Pearson, our country's men, women, the people of the world who died in the struggle, the Allied nation's sacrifices;

for me, it all boils down to kinship with a symbolic knife that somehow has come to my possession,
I know not why, I am not at all spiritual.
I accept wonderful confluences of chance for what they are: rare mediums reinforcing a message.

The knife Fern Wolfe Welch would not have in her home:

http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/9244/screenshot214lk3.jpg
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/61993/

=1826 Code Vivant= R_Reid_Welch
Would April, May and June much mind
1 If One Day loved brother August?
2
The Suitor, posed, not punctuating
3
Measured starts toward ends
4
Each sister would propose, although
5 He was not what they would see in him.
6
15 Mar 10
=The "day" is myself, the suitor,
and my lover is the sisters' brother, August.

And I am the son of the Sun, Marc. Et tu?



Apollo Flaying Marsyas - Ribera Jusepe De Ribiera


PS, Marc? If it turns out that you are gay after all?
Well, sorry, guy, but I am super booked up with Piggy 'Posito for the foreseeable....


Reid,
son of Judge
(see the newspaper clipping up above?)

______________________________

9:20 PM EST, message of heavy import left with voicemail of Sarnoff aide, Will Placencia.
Duplicate message delivered to FBI Miami. Female agent, "Hello, FBI Miami..."

This is Reid Welch. I want restitution immediately. Please work something out with Sarnoff,
see message #321 at the Cycling Forums thread, page 22. I am tired of your ****ing me around.
Act now or I will see you crushed like Sarnoff is about to be crushed by reality.

(((click!)))

You vile cowards....

[COLOR= rgb(255, 0, 0)]____________________[/COLOR]

Julian Kreeger? It now becomes a federal case.
The FBI has refused, from day two, to look at my case claim.

They have constantly brushed me off, "We see no reason to investigate."

However, on "day one" , the first Agent[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)] I spoke to, said "[/COLOR]Of course, if you were beaten by a cop, we will protect you.[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]"[/COLOR]

THEN I TOLD THEM OF MY EXPOSURE OF THEIR AGENCY'S FOUNDER[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)], and that, was that...no more "help".[/COLOR]
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/63099/
J Edgar Hoover Embedded Forever
 
Show Full Headers | Printer View | Add Sender To Address Book
From: " Reid Welch" <[email protected]>
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Reply-To: <[email protected]>
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To: <[email protected]>, "Julian Kreeger" <[email protected]>,<[email protected]>
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Cc: <[email protected]>, <[email protected]>,<[email protected]>
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Subject: YOU VILE COWARDS, FBI, YOU THUG COD-PIECE PROTECTORS...
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Date: Fri 07/29/11 09:54 PM
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Attachments Name Type Save View Message text/html Save http://www.cyclingforums.com/forum/thread/485791/miami-crack-cops-on-parade/315#post_4008453 I am now calling FBI Washington and ask them to LOOK at that posting, and SEE this email. FORWARD THIS TO WASHINGTON, you miami FBI miscreant assholes.

Reid Welch 305 999 7522


Meet Jamal, my godson. He has just turned twelve.
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Jamal is eleven in this self-portrait he snapped himself last April. [/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Jamal loves MJ and nice people.[/COLOR]

Female Washington, DC FBI Agent? Thank you, dear heart, for taking my call.

Thank you for having your male weaklings look into this matter now.

I love the women, they never thug people, not really...

Reid...made this truth too,

  • Hello, Marc. Remember that bike ride to Cape Florida and back?
    Recall, as we two crested the main bridge? The sun was shining. The boats were sailing.
    Whitecaps on the Bay. "Reid? You know what? I'd like to be President some day."
    Good luck with that, old buddy.
    Your pal in truth,
    Reid Welch

    ampdavolts 2 months ago
  • What is this all about exactly if u don't mind my asking?

    rawnotion22 2 months ago
  • @rawnotion22, please click on the blue link at "more info"?
    Was stopped by crook cops for a drug search and extortion attempt.
    Arrested first time ever. Complained against advice of judge-buddy Leban.
    Later beaten to die, arrested often since. I blew the whistle
    on killer drug thug cops.
    I never lie. I am the first personal buddy here of our crooked city commissioner, Sarnoff.
    He protects foul cops and not well liked here in town

    ampdavolts 2 months ago
  • ENTERED TO THE PUBLIC DOMAIN for re-use in any way or manner or part, whatsoever,
    by the maker, Reid Welch of Miami Florida, May sixth, 2011

    ampdavolts 2 months ago


    "...the cops have been ex-tooding this theory since the early seventies.."


    Marc[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]? I AM PICKING UP YOUR [/COLOR]GARBAGE[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]. [/COLOR]

    Reid Welch
    305 999 7522
 
Yo, Marc. You had better not fire the City worker,

this Brother who also happened to be there to groom YOUR PRIVATE PARK, this morning, and ALSO

on the day when "Alvy" Alvarez of MPD attempted to "Baker Act" me for doing propane in the park.

My Brother witnessed the pig-hassle on that day, and prevented the kidnapping. He was there again in your park

this morning, to tidy up and empty the trash barrels, city truck, he's a great guy, very brave.

MARC YOU, with your "clean the neighborhood yourself" video above,
YOU ARE SUCH A ****ING HYPOCRITE. YOU should clean the park,
not taxpayers.



And Marc, you had better not harm my Brother. YOU should give him tenure,
and, Marc, why don't you just PUT THOSE GLOVES BACK ON AND PICK UP your DOG ****.


_______________________________

propane inhalation helps me to come up with new anti-Sarnoff campaign slogans.


ahem, just trial balloons:


Sire Fark Marnoff
Mire Sark Farnoff
Fire Marc Sarnoff

/img/vbsmilies/smilies/rolleyes.gif

http://investigationmiami.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-luke-you-can-add-pathological-liar.html

Miami New Times first reported on the big lie behind Marc Sarnoff's assertion that he is the grandson of General David Sarnoff, founder of RCA. Marc and his supporters shrugged it off by blaming his mother.


Then came word that Sarnoff is fond of telling people that the grandfather of his wife (Teresa Sarnoff, nee Forrestel) has an aircraft carrier named after him. When he says this he is talking about Admiral James Vincent Forrestal, the first Secretary of Defense and he wants all of us to swoon and be impressed that his wife is the descendent of a very famous person.


The problem with this big lie is that Teresa's maiden name, as documented in dozens of public records, including their marriage certificate, is spelled with an E-L at the end. Admiral Forrestal's name is spelled with an A-L at the end. Who are they blaming for this misunderstanding? Why the hell would she change the spelling of her name. It's cool to be related to a famous person.
http://www.google.com/patents?id=CMBgAAAAEBAJ&printsec=drawing&zoom=4#v=onepage&q&f=false
(inventor of the window air conditioner, Reid's g'father, P. B. Welch, founder of Coral Gables Clinic, today's Books & Books location)

Here is the true story of Marc and General David Sarnoff:

I am an accomplished electronics history buff.
I was very big into early TVs and radios, their history, at the time
when I met Marc at the old Grove Nautilus gym on Rice Street in The Grove.
I watched, fascinated, as face-pulped Marc signed his name on the sign-in sheet.
His face was badly bruised that week from a...beating, black eye, purple, a sexy mess.

I know my electronics history, I knew the surname. I found a conversation starter in that name,

"Are you related to General David Sarnoff, by any chance?"

Marc let out a big, happy grin, "Y[COLOR= rgb(238, 130, 238)]eah! How did you know? He is my grandfather's brother[/COLOR]."

"Oh, I know a few things about RCA and history, so that's very cool!"

"Yeah, nice to meet you, I'm Marc David Sarnoff."

"I'm Reid Welch."

January, 1998, aged forty three...years after I terminated our friendship, "General Sarnoff".


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Car 54, Where Are You?

"...the cops have been ex-tooding this theory since the early seventies.."


Marc? I AM PICKING UP YOUR GARBAGE.

Reid Welch
305 999 7522
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]DOB 05 22 54[/COLOR]


Wednesday, February 27, 2008 Politician Caught in Family Fib Miami City Commissioner Marc Sarnoff has claimed to be
the grandson of radio and television pioneer David Sarnoff. Well, he's not.
On Monday, Sarnoff attempted to correct the record. David is his great-uncle,
not his granddaddy. “I know very little about my family,” he said.
“My understanding is that he is my great-uncle or something like that.”

David’s connection with the Sarnoff clan ended in 1969,
when his father Joel divorced his mother, the commissioner added.
“I don’t know my grandfather’s name,” Sarnoff replied
when asked the identity of his paternal granddad.
[COLOR= rgb(238, 130, 238)]“I just remember he had big hands[/COLOR].” [Link]
David Sarnoff's niece says, "I haven’t a clue who this man is.
He is certainly not David’s grandson, nephew, or otherwise. He is not related to us."

(((in the still shot on the YT player, we see Officer Gunther Toody)))
see the Marc misspeak quote in pink up above?
 
President Chavez in yellow..sir,

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-14351508

"Why do we have to always have to wear a red shirt?" said Mr Chavez.

"And the same goes for the word 'socialism'."

Sir? You are nearly exactly my age. You have cancer now and will die soon

YELLOW is a key color in my life, too.
HERE is why you "chose" a yellow shirt, Hugo, mira?

Sallow Allegory R_Reid_Welch
Long ago in Liverpool,
1 lived an Occidental, little man,
2 who ran his life by an odd plan
3 of vivid colour—oh, just one:
4
a yellow rule he used for truthing
5 beneath a sooted, yellow roofing.
6
He married tints and tucked inside
7 a dainty, foot-bound, Chinese bride,
8
and kept one dog, and later, two
9 ( Labradors run yellow too (.
10
By nights for days he watched
11 and summed
12 the rising and the setting suns,
13 accounting, that if each were gold,
14 he'd grasp, for either that—or soul.
15
The little man-aged-on, enriched !
16 on yellow stuff to quell an itch—
17
propounding from his life's lapels
18 —where thumbs on those flaps
19 hooked his yell:
20
"Lo! It is sage to age
21 all seasons, saffron."
22
23 His height increased,
24 but, only sideways,
25 on suet with admixed annatto,
26 till his yellow Nile ran blue
27
(that is to say his liver's liquor
28 pooled and sank him ever sicker).
29
"When bile quits one must quit life",
30 he scratched to then-near-parchment wife.
31
"Yellow isn't, and it was never—
32 a brave man's hue for last-retreats.
33 By God I won't
34 go
35 ever. Not
36
till my humours turn
37 g r e e n c h e e s e
38
—or the moon returns in
39
oh!
40 suddenly I see. At last
41
the only colour, true, is
42
b-b-blue",
43 coughed
44
as he turned that shade and passed.
45


____________________
46
17 Apr 10

Hugo was born July 28, 1954.
Reid was born May 22, 1954.
28 minus 22 equals 6...
Looking at Hugo's bio, seeing again how much he hates Bush Republicans,
well, maybe I have a soul brother in him? I don't owe Death, though, and Hugo does.
http://www.biography.com/articles/hugo-chavez-193225
...July 6th, 1954,


Charles Kirtland, a pro landscaper friend of mine over thirty years ago, remarked, off hand,
how he and Elvis used to ride to high school together, on some days. Charlie had a car,
Elvis, at that time, was not even in blue suede shoes. What goes around, as they say...
Musicologist, Frank Cooper, will recall Charles Kirltand well. He procured boys for Frank's pleasure,
they were always of age, barely, but that's OK as Frank did not mind nuzzling peach fuzz nuggets.
Oh, and don't think I was immune. I met Freddy through Charles/Frank, and we had quite a time!
I gave Freddy a new seven speed Schwinn. We were quite an item, Freddy and I. Frank was livid,
"You stole my Freddy!"

Yes, I did, Frank.

http://129.171.228.57/fmi/xsl/Faculty/out.xsl?-db=faculty&-lay=fac&NameLast=Cooper&NameFirst=Frank&-find

Frank and I were extraordinarily close platonic buddies, from...summer of 1977, to...mid 1980,
when he ****ed me over for over a grand's worth of piano/harpsichord work, never paid for,
and a promised commission for selling some of his instruments, never paid a penny.



Propane is a great memory-restorative....
Frank was born in...Atlanta, Ga (if I am not mistaken),
in...1939. He is a famed musicologist, and from my vantage point,
a "user" about as ethical as Jabba the Hutt.

Frank was, when he blew into Miami,
the Director of The Arts and Sciences Council.
His hoity-toity holier-than-thou, obsequious demeanor
and back-handed politicking soon alienated his former supporters.
They canned his ass. Later, "You stole my Freddy!", and Frank,
he canned me, and never paid the tab he'd so richly run up,
"I will gladly pay you when I get some money again...",
promised Fired Frank. He never paid a sou.
So, I took Freddy in trade. What goes around...



Frank? I will say this much and more for you, you are tough.
You look the same, a bit older is all, a bit older...you look just like 1977 still.

Frank? I am sorry you are such a **** sock. BTW, Freddy had AIDS and died.

I miss Freddy. I don't have AIDS and neither do you, you lucky cum sucker.

I miss those few good years, Frank, all those evenings of lively conversation,
of brilliant word play and piano and harpsichord music. Frank? The loss of yourself from my life,
grieved me for decades. I still sob when I think of what we had, now lost forever.



See, Frank? The truth does not hurt, it liberates, as so often seen.
"...as a king...Jupiter...in fact, a nude!"




Reid


The picture above is after I took up bodybuilding in...1987...

When I met Frank, some ten years earlier, I was...twenty three,
and lissome and just the sort of lad Frank adored. He instantly understood,
that he was not in my sexual league, and he accepted me, instead, as a best friend,
and I happily worked at his home, hundreds of hours, on his fascinating, historical instruments,
and he cooked me dinners, and we dined out, and he introduced me to many famous people
Frank was not, is not all bad. He's just a reptile looking for a sunny spot to sponge up.

As I was when Frank and I were pals,

That...is actually, 1983, fully three years after Frank and I fell out. Age..29.

I have never looked nor acted quite my age. Why should I?



Frank is a good example of his rare type: the guy who looked "old" when he was young.
Now that he is old, he looks young.

Reid always looked young for his age. However, he is aging just fine, and at fifty seven,
He is a Heinz without many Varieties remaining.



"For a nickel you can lick my pickle. Frank?"
 
I would like to write a bit of a paen to Julian Kreeger.

Julian met me through Ivan Davis, who also is still living.

Julian is perhaps the most revered attorney in the South Florida area today.

I was never easy to deal with, I was...flippant, or thoughtless, in my way, when young.

Now that I am older and ruined, if I have a savior in life, it will be Julian Kreeger.

As much as I have sabotaged my case-prospects, Julian will try, even now, to bail me out.

I love you, Julian and Judith Kreeger. I will offer some more recalls of your early cares for me, soon.

I O U


Reid

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]_______________________________[/COLOR]

1980
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Abram and David are such giggly boys, bounding up [/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]to the Edison cygnet horn, and shouting into the bell,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]at the recording's finish of Mr. Earl Wild, on cue, "goodbyeeeee!"[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Hello, Abram and David. You are such adorable, curly-haired boys.[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]You are fearless and cheerful, just like your mommy and daddy.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]"hellooooooooooo!"[/COLOR]


[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Hello, boys, it is good to greet you again.[/COLOR]


[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Reid[/COLOR]


1979
Earl Wild is coming to Miami, and will stay with The Kreegers during his Audiofon
recording session days. Judy and Julian own a seven foot Steinway "B" Grand, a great piano.
Problem! Earl Wild is a long-time, exclusive Baldwin piano artist. What to do? Julian is a thinker!

Julian explains to Jack Romann, head of Baldwin's Concert and Artist Department, the quandry.
Jack flashes, "say, do you have Reid handy? Yes? Good. I am sending you an overnight letter."


A couple of days later, before Earl's arrival at the Kreeger's home,
The Kreeger Steinway sported a fresh, authentic "BALDWIN" fallboard transfer logo,
applied by Reid, flawlessly.

Earl, a pixie, too, was delighted to have a BALD-WAY piano to practice on.
Why not? Go with the flow, and split the difference!



Hardly one man in a million can say he could and did tune and set up such demanding pianos
for such demanding pianists. But I did. I most certainly did, hundreds of times, without fault.

I WAS BEATEN TO DIE BY A MPD COP.

I AM NOT A LIAR. I AM A SAVIOR FOR YOU ALL.

STOP BAD COPS NOW AND STOP CROOKED POLS.

HEAL THYSELVES, for God's sake, heal!
____________________________________________________________________
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/9244/screenshot214lk3.jpg
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/9244/screenshot214lk3.jpg
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
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http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/9244/screenshot214lk3.jpg
http://www.oldwireroadchurch.com/matthew-1034-37.php
The Greek word for “sword” is a short sword or dagger
that was commonly used to sacrifice animals.
This indicates that the “sword” was the sword of persecution
as Christians were sacrificed for the cause of Christ.
___________________________________
http://blogs.sfweekly.com/thesnitch/2011/07/mark_mcgovern_update_fundraise.php

Robert Reid Welch 0 minutes ago
Men operate in fits of passion, and then, often regret
for life what they have done. May God preserve us from ourselves.


I am not a Christian.


rrw

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Sweethearts? I recall when this song hit the charts.

This is not a time of terror. it is a time of joy and promised redemption. [/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]You will not die, you will be beloved forever. Heal thyselves, and care for your brothers and sisters?[/COLOR]


Ivan Davis, Reid's early champion, is quite alive today. Reid does not bring death, my dear Maestro...

Ivan Davis with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Eugene Ormandy, 1961

http://audiofon-records.com/Davis/davis-bio.htm

Hello, Julian, good morning! Hello, Ivan, good day!
Will I have plenty of tuning time for your piano on stage?

Reid

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Hello, Peter. Spaced omnis again? I like them best.[/COLOR]
http://audioaficionado.org/wilson-audio/8301-peter-mcgrath-recordings.html

Julian? Thank you for everything,
http://julians70th.com/timeline.html



Dear Julian, you sustained me during my young, lean years.
You paid my asking price for many hundreds of hours of tuning and standby time.

I was privileged to meet so many wonderful people through you, Julian and Judy,

Thank you forever....

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]I hope, someday, Julian, to find the fate of the Austrian doctor (Jewish) and his wife [/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]and presumed children, whom P. B. sponsored and brought in to the USA just before the war[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]shut everything down. I am not proud of anything, Julian, but of that, that my grandfather,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]in an era when anti-Semitism was the norm, insisted to save lives.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]He was also a best friend to Max Fleischer, the creator of Betty Boop.[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Max helped P. B. make the first color motion pictures of the human stomach in action,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]as Max was an inventor and ace mechanic, and P. B. had the urge to innovate, too.[/COLOR]


Was a world famed expert in transformer coupled, 300B-type audio amplification,
see Glass Audio Magazine, issue 1/96, for the cover story. Western...Electric
((I had no idea of this old movie back then)))

Testing a brand new circa 70 year old Western Electric 300B The pair of tubes, you see just one, here,
I sold for five thousand six hundred dollars,
to help to pay the bills I've caused.
I have nothing now but regrets...
...and two, redeeming Kreegers, in my dreams

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]This was a find that we don't come across today,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]a matched pair of =engraved base WE 300B=, of 1940, or maybe, 1943 vintage,[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]their original list cost was about three dollars apiece.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]The tube tester video helped assure the bidders that the tubes really were new and good.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]I've not often liquidated any of my old junk at anything like a profit.[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]I hope to liquidate a bad cop from his badge, at a profit for all of us to come.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]No more thug cops, please? No more crooked pols, Marc, please?[/COLOR]




1979 - Big year ... Becomes Member, Board of Contributors, Miami Herald has published approximately forty op-ed articles; Julian and Peter McGrath found Audiofon Records (which produced more than 50 classical recordings by Joseph Kalichstein, David Bar-Illan, Sixten Ehrling, William De Rosa, Valentina Lisitsa, Alexei Kuznetsoff, Ivan Davis, Earl Wild, Lazar Berman, Aaron Rosand); and begins to teach Arts & Entertainment Law as adjunct professor at University of Miami Law School
 
Hello, to my Model T buddies, Tom Carnegie of the Montana 500, thanks for the phone call.

Gee, but it was swell of you to call me and recall old times. Your brother is fine,

the old gang is fine, yes! I am like a Don Quixote, but, this is real.

Chief Pigbuckles[COLOR= rgb(178, 34, 34)], DO YOU HAVE A CLUE, YET, that YOU are DONE covering for a KILLER?[/COLOR]

Fatty? Officer Fatty, yoo-hoooo? Do you promise to never bully a civilian again?

Have a cow now, kops? You jerks. Marc Sarnoff? You goniff of human rights, have some T?





So, FBI Miami *****, you say you are looking at this, and you are going to do something about it?

"absolutely!" (a patronizing laugh)

You piece of ****, just go kill yourself.
 
COPS, M.P.D.[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)] and all others, [/COLOR]

YOU ARE COVERING FOR A CUBANO MURDERER ON YOUR FORCE, named G. LINARES, MPD.[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)] [/COLOR]

YOU ALSO ARE COVERING FOR THUGS AND BULLIES WITH BADGES, LIKE CRACK PIPE TORRES
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]AND ALVY ALVAREZ.[/COLOR]

YOU ARE MOBSTERS, SOME OF YOU, CRETINS IN TIGHT BLUE TOGS.

AND OTHERS OF YOU ARE SILENT, "FOR THE RIDE", TOOLS OF THE CROOKS LIKE YOUR CHIEF.


Listen up, if you can read.

=I am resting quietly at home, in my usual spot.

=NONE Of you pigs has the balls to call me now.

=Do you know, just TWO people had need to phone me yesterday?

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]=Tom Carnegie, a white man who lives in Portland, Oregon, [/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]=James Fuller, a coal black man who lives one mile from me here in Miami.[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Two phone callers, from diametrically opposite points of the USA.[/COLOR]

AND YOU PIGS JUST SIT ON YOU ASSES, like butter won't melt in your bungholes.
CHIEF PIGGY? CHIEF HOT-SPOT WIENER?

Did you see my previous posting?
I suggested that the Miami FBI phone receptionist
just go and kill herself. You filth, you dregs....of "cops"...
 
I forgot, for the pigs:
[SIZE= 24px]305 999 7522 [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 24px]CALL REID [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 24px]FOR A GO[/SIZE]
[SIZE= 24px]OD RIDE[/SIZE]

/img/vbsmilies/smilies/smile.gif


Chief, cops, I have just phoned in to Chief Pig-eato's voice recorder, a pointer to this message,

"I told an FBI agent, she should just kill herself. That's my opinion. How you do it, Chief, is you take your
service pistol, put the muzzle in your mouth, exhale, squeeze. This is not an order. It is a suggestion, auto.

Reid

http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/34479/

the crackhead verse (with audio) netskyIam
A crackhead crack his own fool head
1 cause notha crackhead turn an said
2 You such a ***-ked up crackhead
3 but the fust crackhead mistook hed said
4 he thought he meant his head was crack
5 so he bust it off--ta smoke it off.
6 If that ain't true ? an whats mo whack?
7 A crackhead gave head to his crack
8
an I sure hell aint esplainin
9 that.
10
26 Sep 06

(define the words in this poem)
(181 more poems by this author) Reid read it,

http://tinyurl.com/pasxg

five years ago


____________________________________________________

Reid, to FBI Miami's female, douche delight,

"put the muzzle of the gun into your mouth and pull the trigger."


=It's not complicated to make good=

______________________

6:24 AM EST: I just "reported myself" to MPD's main number,

and made a point to say that I am no threat to any cop, but if Chief Exposito wants to kill himself,
that is OK by me, and by a lot of people. We would love to have a pork roll for lunch today.


Reid
305 999 7522
 
As I have said, many times,

I PUT MYSELF INTO THE FACE OF TROUBLE

and I have ALWAYS looked for trouble,

BECAUSE I AM MADE TO CONFRONT BULLIES,

and this is in MY STARS and in my STARES,

YOU SHITWADS who protect Pizza-Face G. LINARES

_______________________________________________

LOOK at the date of the "crackhead verse"?


http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson

The knife Fern Wolfe Welch would not have in her home:


Chief Porky, if YOU don't have the fortitude to talk to me,
and if G. Linares is also too much of a coward,

HOW ABOUT have "Officer Cinnamon Shirt",
the thug who arrived here in the aftermath of the Linares attack,
and promised me
"...never an even break...in fact, you are gonna do harrrrrd time."

Let me have him, Chief?
 

  • 603 Posts. Joined 1/2011
  • Location: Miami
There is no more room for ardent nationalism in this world of today.

We are all on the same boat. Sink in salt, or, sail?
http://www.cyclingforums.com/forum/thread/393875/schwinn-what-s-your-opinion/15#post_4008552



STOP ****ing with me, Chief Pig-eato.

call and settle with
Reid Welch

305 999 7522

[SIZE= 18px]__________________[/SIZE]

[SIZE= 18px]I offer sweet love and hugs to good officers every day.[/SIZE]
[SIZE= 18px]Love to the female officer on duty at South Station, MPD,[/SIZE]
[SIZE= 18px]who just took my call, "reporting myself", for having told [/SIZE]
[SIZE= 18px]Chief [/SIZE][SIZE= 18px]Miguel Bucklefuckles[/SIZE][COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)][SIZE= 18px] to fix this problem, or just go kill himself.[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE= 18px]She's very nice.
"Not For All the Rice in China" is for you, [/SIZE]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)][SIZE= 18px]dear female officer at South Station,[/COLOR][/SIZE]

[SIZE= 18px]Reidy[/SIZE]


"VOCALION" is a name derived from Latin.

Latin men as singers, "vocalize".

Latin loins eat us like lions.

VOCA voice

LION eat

VOCA LION

LIONS ROAR AND MORE


chief pickledickle exposito? are you frei?
Chief Pussyboy 'Posito, you can work your debt off to me, if you like to be free,

You can bunk with Pizza Boy Lisa G. Linares. Mind your ardent stares, Chief, Lisa-Boy, he packs a hell of a left hand.

http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg28/Reid_Welch/the%20immigrant%20to%20America/
( photo essay, The Immigrant To America )



You idiot cop/s. He is my mother's grandfather.
He was born in Germany about 1868. He immigrated with his new wife
to America in 1880. He had one child, my maternal grandfather.
He died an old man in 1937.
He, like Reid, had a bad back.
Here is my great grandfather's portable chair

used again for the first time since 1937 by a local election volunteer,

http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg28/Reid_Welch/cane%20chair/



[COLOR= rgb(255, 0, 0)]CALL ME, CHIEFS, IF YOU'D LIKE TO SIT ON IT,[/COLOR]


Reid

305 999 7522


"I miss you, Reid, we miss you. Your intelligence..."

My intelligence is not much, my intuition...

"Your intuition, then, Reid, you may be like Don Quixote but you are the truth too."

Thank you, Tom. Thank you for your phone call yesterday.
I spent many happy hours in the presence of you and your brother,
and with other Model T men, as we scudded across Montana under gray
skies, past green fields, counting the revolutions of lives.

Love to Tom Carnegie,

Reid


Do you understand, stupid cops, that this singer, Brian Stokes Mitchell,
is the most revered Broadway star working today.
He is the brother of a dear friend of mine, John Mitchell, a theremin buff.

I am rather well connected, stupid thug pigs.
I am NOT "Don Quixote"


GUESS WHO?
_________________________________


2:14 PM EST,

Thank you male Miami FBI Agent for listening to my plea,
to pass this message on, for your kind patience,

thank you, sir, for being a good man.

I love good and brave people, you in particular now.

Reid


[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]This is for [/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]The Good Cops of All Agencies,[/COLOR]

arbeit macht frei
 
CHIEF EXPOSITO AND CHIEF WEINER/WIENER

DO YOU ****WADS KNOW HOW TO DIAL A phone?


Gen Mladic's two pistols, one American made, with three clips of ammunition, 54 bullets,
"Once I told one of his bodyguards that his gun - a Heckler and Koch - was showing, protruding from under his jacket."
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-14323390


R. Reid Welch
305 999 7522

D.O.B
05 22 1954

Chief Idiots,

your various officers take my calls,

and are pleasant and brave, nearly always.

BUT YOU?
YOU ARE COCKSUCKING,
[COLOR= rgb(238, 130, 238)]TAMPON-SLURPING PIG PERIODS.[/COLOR]

CALL REID NOW, you filth factors.

305 999 7522
[COLOR= rgb(255, 0, 0)]"supposing I want to be a mouse"[/COLOR]
http://www.miami-police.org/contact.html
http://www.coralgables.com/CGWeb/police.htm
"...and it's just the temperature I like!"


"OK Chief, take the elevator."


______________________________________
307 PM EST,

Listen, little fascist boy-Dispatcher at Coral Gables Police,

"I don't want to hear any disrespectful talk about our Chief or our police or our police or our plice or or lice...".

WELL, *****-BOY, isn't that JUST TOO BAD.? TELL YOUR ****-CHIEF THAT REID IS RUDE,
and can get a LOT MORE RUDE if you **** WITH ME AT ALL. Tell the asswiper to CALL REID, but do not CUM first.


You are a little boy operator, Coral Gables Pig Dispatcher.

You do not have a badge or gun, twerp.

You offer to send out pigs to make your dreams come true.

Look, little boy dispatcher of Coral Gables? Here is my ****.

Slip it in your mouth and suck till you become a bit nicer.

I have an eighty six year family history with Coral Gables.

I have eight inches now down your throat. Swallow hard, oh, and mind your milk teeth, boy.

----------------------

Female dispatcher of Coral Gables cops, 3:20 PM EST

May I leave a voicemail for Chief Wiener?

"His voice mail is full."

Please tell him to read what I wrote about Chief Dickbreath on Cycling Forums?
(you are not involved, dear, but please pass on the message?)
"OK, but I don't think he is going to read it."

That's OK thousands of other people will read this in time.

Chief Weiner/Wiener, you thug cop cover-girl. Give Reid a ring?

I will be calling you again and again, dipstick Dipsy Doodle Weiner

Reid
305 999 7522
 
ATTN: CORAL GABLES POLICE "COLD" MURDER CASES,

sirs,

why was I never questioned in regard to the illness and subsequent death
of Coral Gables Jeweler, Julian Balogh. Why was I not questioned?

=Balough was a prominent businessman, father of a classmate of Reid Welch.
=Balough was a (poor) player of oboe for Florida Philharmonic, for which Reid was
the piano tuner. Julien Balogh was a financial and social supporter of the orchestra,
and had a chair, though he played not so well.
=Balough was murdered by cyanide poisoning, poison put in to is office coffee cup.
=The killer was never found.
=Fact, Reid used to work with cyanide, at about that point in time.
=Fact, I knew Julien Balogh, and first met him independent of the orchestra,
met him =before= I became the Orchestra's piano technician...I met Julian when I was at David U. Trout's
shop/home on Douglas Road, one evening...I was at Dave's for dinner. Two people arrived for a brief visit,
Julian Balough, and a woman friend, the then super-annuated prop. of Polly Davis Cafeteria, a battle-axe if ever there was...

I met Julien and within a decade or so...he was dead of cyanide poisoning.

Go figure?

http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1994-05-18/news/9405170669_1_coral-gables-blood-sample-metro-dade
Jeweler's Coffee Was Poisoned Death Not Heart Attack As Doctors First Thought
May 18, 1994|By LUISA YANEZ and NANCY SAN MARTIN Staff Writers
No one gave a second thought to the cup of coffee that millionaire jeweler Julien Balogh
was sipping seconds before he collapsed, dying three days later.
But more than a year later, Metro-Dade police are saying there was more than caffeine in the brew.
Someone slipped poison into Balogh's coffee mug. Police won't identify the deadly substance.
They also are tight-lipped about possible suspects.

The murder-mystery began at 4:43 p.m. on Jan. 27, 1993,
when Balogh collapsed at his jewelry store on Coral Gables' Miracle Mile. He died three days later.
"After reviewing this case, it has been reclassified as a homicide,"
said John Farrell, chief of Metro-Dade's criminal investigations unit.
Police credited tips, a vial of blood and a detective's hunch with reopening the case.
At the time of Balogh's death, Coral Gables police were investigating a jewelry heist
that occurred at his store about a month earlier.
Days after the jeweler was cremated, tipsters told police he might have been killed. Sgt. Kenneth Armstrong,
the Coral Gables detective investigating the theft, began pursuing the murder angle.
Police would not say whether the theft and homicide are linked. With Balogh's body unavailable for an autopsy,
the Dade County Medical Examiner's Office needed blood samples to test for poison and found a vial at Doctors' Hospital, where Balogh died. It took a year to reclassify his death because investigators had to review his medical records and toxicologists had to test and retest his blood sample.
"Luckily, we were able to track down the blood sample from the hospital," Farrell said.
"Otherwise, it would have been signed off as a natural death."
Balogh, 67, a well-known Dade County merchant, did not die of a heart attack as concluded
by physicians at Doctors' Hospital in Coral Gables, police announced on Tuesday.




S.S. LEVIATHAN
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson

((how many "random" references to "reid" to you find in the unrelated music video above?))

="Austin Reed"


=Wilhelm Braun (((reid's grandfather, maternal was a William and is grandfather, paternal, a Brown)))

=Notice, please that every reference and inference in the video above, is to homosexual thoughts.

Facts are rather stubborn bites
like knots we've seen: Gordian bights.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gordian_Knot

Q for retarded Detectives,

WHAT is Reid's father's name?

A: Gordon K ("Judge" Welch)

GORDIAN K NOT

(((West of Miami, 1965...)))


partial quote of my posting from page...twenty one,

He touts his political experience running large embassies and more recently, working as a senior inspector
to document waste and mismanagement in U.S. embassies in Iraq and Jordan.
He said he would bring his management skills, an ability to ask difficult questions and a fresh perspective to the job.
He moved to Coral Gables in 2008.

“I have no special interests,” Cason said. “And I only plan to give four years of service as mayor,” he added.
Cason wants to cut waste and attract more tourists and international businesses to Coral Gables.

Read more: http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/04/03/2145841/gables-mayoral-race-kicks-into.html#ixzz1TTDdemPw
SIR, can you corral your cops? CAN I GET SOME REPAIR FOR MY RUINED LIFE?

My eyes are on you now, Mayor Cason...and they glare in indignation, for what the PIGS did to me, they do to OTHERS,
who are less capable of raising a stink in reply.

My father, Judge Welch, is dead, mouldering in the ground in Costa Rica.
I buried him with my own, bare hands, in soil softened by the tears of a son.

I will bury you too if you fail to be a man, sir.

"Judge" Welch, my father,
taught me of ancient customs,
non-fiction at heart,

a sultry day, 1965, west of Miami,

crickets warn of bulldozers nearing the Indian mounds.

Father and son sift under saw grass and cypress.

"Dad, look, neck bones."

Truth requires imagination. "That was once a turtle bone necklace."

"There are lots of them, Dad. What do they mean?"

"Indians know that turtles never die. Father and son wore their necklaces."

"Daddy? Why is there a shell here in the dirt?"

"It is for the daddy to dig them out

so his boy can see the day again."



http://www.cotlf.org/
http://www.cotlf.org/Church/Pastor.asp

Church of the Little Flower
2711 Indian Mound Trail,
Coral Gables, FL 33134 (305) 446-9950 ‎




I want to say this, as Brian and other relatives may read these words,

Julien was not a great oboist. He was, however, a great person.

I loved Julien Balogh for his kindness and integrity.

He is an enduring memory, an icon of decency,

a zephyr of of good, to warm us again.

Dear Julien, if you could but hear and play...but...then,


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

For My Adoptive Mother, Composed From Memory, 21 April, 2011, For Daisy From Reid,



__________________________________

915 PM EST,

calls of record left with:

=Chief Pig-eato (Miguel Exposito) of MPD
=Miami FBI (with a live, female agent)
=Commissioner Sarnoff's aide, William Placencia

re: recreational use of propane.

Point: if YOU thugs are going to promote a killer cop,
and bully cops in your midst, and extortion cops,
and obscene cops, and crack heads and harass
a whistle blower, as you all did, to me,

I won't get mad, I will be getting even.

This is your last chance to forestall the vast, public dissemination
of

How to Enjoy Propane Inhalation for fun and mental visions,

using the Reid Welch technique, which has been tested,

proven to be safe, by myself, since the year, 1969.

To wit,


From any hardware store of The Home Depot, obtain either the blue or the green "FATBOY" bottles,
they are cheap enough and will give you a nice time. No flame required.

TBC, FAT BOY, AWAYYYYYYYYY,

What? Why? Because, thug-pigs, YOU ASKED FOR IT,

Hello, Jerry! I'm Ernie's mate...and you were Ernie's college room mate,
I recall Jerry's Girls, your show here in Coconut Grove, years ago,

I remember Jerry, a wonderful man,

Cops? Do you notice, yet, that I never lie?
Cops? Do you notice that you have engaged a bit more
reality-chewing gum than you can swallow?
Call Reid now, or just know that,

YOU ASKED FOR IT,

Pigs? You were made for me, I was made for youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu,
(Robert) Reid Welch
305 999 7522

Judge Mark King Leban? Got any bud tonight?
Judge Beth Death Bloom? Got any gas pains yet?
 
It's the sweetest, best song,

and I never heard it before, Jerry.

You are the most beloved song and story creator, ever, in my book of life,

dear soul-repairman, Jerry,


Thank you, Jerry...you are lookin' swell
 
Dear Florida Department of Law Enforcement,

next up?

[SIZE= 18px]Classical Gas[/SIZE]

(((It is YOUR call, cops)))


Hello, old, former pal, Judge Mark King Leban, who dined me so many years ago now,
and always offered joints of marijuana to stimulate the appetite.

I never smoked pot with you, but I watched you get giggly,
while your lover, Danny Wolf, prepared slush for din-din.

To excite your appetite for truth, Mark, I will tell you in brief,
that I once stored, overnight, for a buck-a-pound storage-space rental,

eleven thousand pounds of pot. It was...in 1980. Statute of Limitations, Mark?

"You know I can't help you, Reid"

Ah, but I can help you, Mark King Leban, to Be Prepared,


From: " Reid Welch" <[email protected]>
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Reply-To: <[email protected]>
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To: <[email protected]>, <[email protected]>, "T. Ryan"<[email protected]>
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Cc: <[email protected]>, <[email protected]>, "Elizabeth Gariazzo"<[email protected]>
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Subject: Dear Stacy, it is so horrible a breach of law enforcment ethics...
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Date: Sun 07/31/11 10:22 PM
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Attachments Name Type Save View Message text/html Save Dear Mr. Lehman,
some "stuff", and the data presented as fact, is exactly-that, true:
http://www.cyclingforums.com/forum/thread/485791/miami-crack-cops-on-parade/330#post_4008637

This is just the tip of the iceberg, that page.
I was arrested, false-premise traffic stop. I complained about the stop, and the search of my car, and about the obscene behavior of the three, MPD "set-up" cops. I was warned to =not complain= to MPD IA, by old, former pal, Judge Mark King Leban. Paraphrase of what Mark said, "For god's sake, Reid, let it go! It's your first offense? It will be forgiven, but if you complain, you will never be let go." Mr. Lehman? Inside of a few more months after I deposed to IA, I was "Baker Acted" more than once...and arrested from my home, tortured by G. Linares in his cruiser, sealed-in, then left to die of suffocation and heat prostration. I kicked out a side window with my bare feet, shouting "Help!" at the top of my lungs. Killer-cop G. Linares of MPD rushed back to his abandoned cruiser, yanked open the right rear door, and instantly cursed me and then landed three terrific blows, karate chops, to my head, as I lay prostrate, sideways, on the hard, plastic bench seat. The third blow knocked a crown off my left molar. I was not quite knocked-out, and so, Linares instantly applied his thumbs, HARD, to my carotid arteries, to finish me off, but, he ran out of time, as Sargent Carter, a female, hobbled up to the Linares car and caused him to desist. I am a cop beating and persecution survivor. I do not lie. I am in conflict with MPD, and CGPD (they are colluding pigs) And I can depose to you, by phone or by email, in cogent and level manner. However, the "Blue Code of Silence" is in full swing here. The local pigs, including our Miami FBI, just give me the silent treatment now. The characters involved, include, Old, former pal, Miami Commissioner Marc Sarnoff, Judge Mark King Leban (both are friends from decades ago) Judge Beth Bloom (a persecuting witch who ignores legal protocols) Chief Miguel Exposito, who covers for his "crack cocaine cops", Chief Wiener/Weiner of CGPD who covers for his bad cops, who dismissed a woman, let her go, after she struck me down from a then-new bicycle, and admitted her guilt, but, the Coral Gables cops, who =knew my name and black history with MPD, they let her go. My life has been devastated by criminal cops, pols and judges. I am fifty seven years old, and have lived in Miami since 1957, and, until the first, odious, fake-arrest of 6 Nov 2008, I had never been in any legal scrape, whatsoever. Please consider interviewing me, sir? I can be reached easily by phone, as I am usually here at home, on the computer, writing, documenting, and baiting our local "legal" "mafia" Thank you, Reid Welch 305 999 7522


Mr. Lehman?

On Goombay Saturday...two years ago, in July...(propane inhalation helps to recapture repressed memory),

I was stopped in my yellow, Scion xB car...after having passed about...twenty to forty, idle MPD cruisers,

cops who were on-scene to ensure public peace at the rowdy festival. I was stopped, and I soon knew why:

"There is an outstanding bench warrant for your arrest, Mr. Welch."

"But! That bench warrant, for an accidental failure to appear in Judge Beth Death Bloom's court...
was cancelled, my bail bondsman phoned in the reason, that I was unable to understand the pale,
illegible, yellow carbon print-out...anyway, that warrant was supposed to be cancelled, Bloom was
told that I am not a flight or fight risk..."

"No matter. Out of your car."

I was tightly hand-cuffed, in the broiling, hot sun, and sat hard into Officer Fatty's death cruiser.
He began to write up an arrest report, slowly. I began to get heat-stressed, and worse, when
Fatty, archly observed,

"Welch? You don't remember me, do you?"
((no, I did not flash his pig face in recognition))

"I'm THE ONE YOU CALLED "THE FAT ONE"

(so-described when I deposed to IA in complaint of my first arrest,
by obsequious, obscene vagina-picture phone cops, three of them)

"You're going to jail, Mr. Welch."

I began to get chest pains, and requested medical assistance.

"Don't make more of this than it is already, Welch."

The rescue wagon came out, and the good guys of Fire Rescue
assessed my condition...it was angina pectoris...heart complaint.

The rescue people insisted to the disgusted Officer Fatty,
to take me to Mercy for assessment, where I got emergency care.

The chest pain, it turned out, was due to a BP medication, a "beta blocker",
causing my heart rate to slow down to a dangerously low pulse,

and while I was in "triage", a group of three or four, leering, threatening,
smirking MPD cops sat a few feet away from my gurney,

and baited me and asked if any of them were familiar to me.

I was shaking and nervous and they were bullies, even if I were in cardiac distress.

The doctors of Mercy Hospital insisted to hospitalize me..for exactly three, full days,

to clean my system out of that beta blocker, and get me stable again.

The MPD, because I was an arrestee, was obligated to provide
round-the-clock police personnel, in my private room,

me, cuffed to the hospital bed, a prisoner.

Some of those cops were OK.
Some of them were thugs unable to bait me further.

Three days, thousands of dollars of public funds
for the hospital, and thousands of dollars for
the policemen and women to watch me relax,

about...forty thousand dollars of wasted pubic funds,
and horror for me, and disgusted, thug cops,

ALL BECAUSE JUDGE BETH DEATH BLOOM
could not manage to cancel the BOGUS bench warrant.

All this will make a good book someday.

In fact, the book, in fragmented form, with detours
to bug our pig-cops, is all here in this thread.

Thank you, Mr. Lehman of FDLE
Thank you, Cycling Forums, for the platform.

Reid Welch
at home,
305 999 7522
_____________________________________________________________


YOU MOTHERFUCKER COPS!

I was a man having a seeming heart attack,

AND A GROUP OF YOU DICKSNIFFERS BAITED ME IN INTENSIVE CARE.

___________________________________________

Inevitably, this involves my former very good personal friend, "Doctor Death", MD.

For he is the man who put me, a former athlete, me who has "athletic heart",

on a simple beta blocker, a class of drug totally contra-indicated for a man of my type.

That beta blocker drug caused a medical crisis, when, at last I was stressed in -just the wrong way-

by Officer Fatty, the malevolent pig I first met on 6 November, 2008. Fatty had an axe to grind.

It grinds back, very finely now. And Doctor Death? You also had me on diazepam, a "tranquilizer",

to also help lower my BP, and calm me...but BENZO DRUGS, are well-known to cause, long-term,

PSYCHOTIC OUTBURSTS OF TEMPER, witness, folks the case of "Travis the Chimp"?

He was a pet chimp who was on a course of a nearly identical "benzo" drug, "Xanax".

Travis blew his cool one day, would not obey his mistress.

The chimp's owner's best girl friend tried to calm Travis.

Travis ripped off her face and amputated her fingers with his teeth.

Doctor Death? YOU, with your =forty years of practical experience=
should have ADVISED me of the hidden horrors of "Valium/diazepam".

You later, when I was agitated about all the cop hassles,
you CUT ME OFF COLD TURKEY from that drug,

and when I asked, "Well, what do I do now?"

"I'm NOT going to depose or help you, Reid,
no-one EVER gets satisfaction from cop beating cases."

"Will you continue the diazepam?"

"NO!"

Well, what do I do now?

"YOU CAN KILL YOURSELF FOR ALL I CARE."

Doctor Death is the former MD to our former Governor of Florida,
Jeb Bush. Bush fired Doctor D too.

Doctor Death is known for his great sense of weird humor.
Reid is also known for weird humor.

This is no humor.
It is all true, recounted as exactly as possible.

"YOU CAN KILL YOURSELF FOR ALL I CARE."


http://www.morninpaper.com/2009/11/carla-nash-victim-of-vicious-attack-from-travis-the-chimp-shows-her-mauled-face/
http://www.borderlinedisorders.com/public.php
Is Reid a case of "BPD"?
(no)

I am a case, now, of Shell Shock Syndrome (PTSS)


Thanks to MURDEROUS PIGS I WILL SEE HANGED IN THE ABATTOIR OF HELL
__________________________________________

Mr Lehman? Doctor "X"? retarded Detectives,

when you peruse my words, do you begin to realize,

I am not of normal ways nor means. Please make rights?

http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/61359/
=Booth Wrote To His Dead= R_Reid_Welch
.
1

Father,
2
although you are
3 not here to read,
4 I write—to think,
5 to tell afresh
6 when we rejoin some day.
7
I have achieved a partial
8 ascent toward heaven
9 —from the Battery
10 below Wall Street in
11 Thaddeus Lowe's silk rope
12
enmeshed balloon.
13 For ten dollars' gold,
14 a flight aloft—
15 full one thousand feet
16
albeit tethered to the Earth.
17 A capstan
18
reeling let us rise. Horseflesh
19 winched us down again.
20
But, Father, oh, Father, what a height;
21 as like half-way there to you, it seems,
22
if I imagine rightly.
23
Myself and Mr. Lowe, such grins. The sounds
24 of life below—clarion and well
25
heard, "Say halloo to God for us."
26 (Some waggish man—hollow)
27
thought aroused my soul to plead;
28 to beg of Charity for my brother,
29 for your son. I near resounded,
30
Willst thou forgive?
31
Alas ! I checked myself—I choked.
32
Dear Father I knew not
33 which way to shout.
34






Edwin Booth
35 New York City
36 May 22nd 1866
37






18 Feb 07
38
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thaddeus_S._C._Lowe
Reid put them together, for they were in NYC, in May, 1866, in fact, so near...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwin_Booth







http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_wilkes_booth
GHASTLY JEERINGS
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/27253/

Ghostly Jeerings netskyIam
Abe's a mary in a booth
1 Waiting for Derringer's truth
2
Mary Todd with Abe no more
3 She's gone quite mad
4 And now no more
5
Edwin Booth, good blood of John,
6 Redeem my name and carry on...
7
You ac-tor-states-man-play-right-po-et
8 Shut up 'for head shats grey
9 Bul-let
10 Splat-ters ma-ter pa-ter mat-ters
11 Gory Ed. ward
12
...as King Lear.
13
7 Mar 06


=Great ghosts walk= R_Reid_Welch
.
1








Great ghosts walk
2



Wholly alive amongst us—
3



We cannot see them
4



whilst alive
5

Tom Carnegie? See? I am no Quixote. I am no mad king, either.
I am Reid, which is Old English for Red, and I am of your blood, of all of you.

http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=2&ved=0CCEQFjAB&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.spokanemodeltclub.com%2Fresources%2FMay06.pdf&rct=j&q=tom%20carnegie%20model%20t&ei=tiQ2Tq71MoWhtwfqm-GMDQ&usg=AFQjCNHEJfFppeYBZs1WTkWZPKVeVQ-Qtg&sig2=Yp44f5fJmwPmo5l8tsYDfQ&cad=rja
http://www.mtfca.com/discus/messages/29/17626.html?1156193897

Love from Reid to Tom, Steve, Hal, Ralph, and all my Model T lifelines. I love you very much, for good.

Reid

That is my great, good friend, Steve Coniff, of Colorado Springs, Colorado.
That is the Red Roadster, which he let me ride in, for five hundred miles of Montana Five Hundred.

Steve? The New Old Stock 1922 Model T engine block, it is yours, Steve.

I have no earthly use for that, which is yours, by all rights of passage, which I am honored to give to you now....

Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry...


Steve? I as write, I am wearing the cheap, old black T shirt, well-worn,
which your precious wife insisted to mail home to me, I had left it behind in error,
and she took the care to get it to me, why, I do not know, except she is a gift to us all.
I miss you all, and send kind greets to Joey and to you all.

The T shirt is faded, black, ragged, and it will never be left behind again....

Cops? I want you to know, I am talking to extraordinarily great people here,
http://www.google.com/search?q=steve+coniff+&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8&aq=t&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:eek:fficial&client=firefox-a
Here is my old friend, Ron Patterson,

Don Lang helped me with many parts problems. Trent Boggess is the world's foremost Model T historian,
Trent taught me how to recreate Model T Ford "paint", providing me with the formula from the Ford archives,



MPD and CGPD and FBI?

You ****ed with the wrong feather pillow.

This one punches back.


Robert Reid Welch
[email protected]
305 999 7522
3901 Hardie Rd
Coconut Grove, Miami, Florida, 33133
DOB 05 22 1954
SS # 262 92 6944


This is a cylinder shroud....
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]...get it all on, fat, and brush it all out,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]for if you wait, the brush marks you make[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]may not disappear.[/COLOR]


__________________
The most important life preserver, is water.
Please, folks, drink more water than you thirst for?

Water is the best blood thinner, prevents coronary and cerebral events.

Avoid pistols too? Ride a bike, or mount a Model T?


[COLOR= rgb(255, 0, 0)]Oh, how it shakes and shivers, [/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(255, 0, 0)]but, by gum, it's good for the liver.[/COLOR]


Little Reid had an affinity for photography.
Judge confirmed his son by giving him hand-me-down antique cameras.
Reid loved to take pictures with 1920s cameras and process the prints himself.
George Eastman was born in 1854.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Eastman
Reid was born in 1954.
In his final two years, Eastman was in intense pain, caused by a degenerative disorder affecting his spine.
He had trouble standing and his walking became a slow shuffle.
Today it might be diagnosed as lumbar spinal stenosis,
a narrowing of the spinal canal caused by calcification in the vertebrae.
Eastman grew depressed, as he had seen his mother spend the last two years of her life
in a wheelchair from the same condition.
On March 14, 1932, Eastman died by suicide with a single gunshot to the heart,
leaving a note which read, "My work is done. Why wait?"[1]

Eastman was a gay man. So is Reid.

http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/61593/
=PHOTO REJLANDER= R_Reid_Welch
O. G. Rejlander never wrote
1 a poem without the agency
2 of light and silvered paper.
3
Here we find a carbon print
4 made as if by Oscar Gustav
5 "Speaking of my good friend
6
Lewis (that we are) alike in our
7 wishing poses on young girls
8 delicately—chastely.
9
I translate from life as I do best;
10 I dodge the shades when there is sun
11 inside this cone-shaped studio
12
where a Rosewood Cyclops eyes
13 my cat that's set in the big-end
14 to serve as the exposure meter.
15
Eyes are slits if you're the cat
16 placed near to where the sitter's at
17 and if your pupils narrow, good
18
—sufficient Sol to make a poem
19 better yet than Lewis could.
20 And Carroll does his best to cheer
21
though casts as slight as mine
22 are mere cat eyes in the gloom
23 —for few will pay for portraits
24
to take home little girls un-done
25 in mimsy shadows where
26 the light is fading. Where
27
irises dilate as wide
28 as baby oysters opened
29 yet uneaten."
30











13 Feb 06 [!]
31




11,007
reads

=abusive call of record left with Chief Suckpickle FattyBuckle (Miguel Exposito, MPD)
Don't have a cow, now, Chief? And YOU TOO, Chief Weiner/Wiener of CGPD?
"Oh daddy! If only we could have a little calf!"










Cops? Call me? I am up all hours. I will be sweet to any callers.
We can do...phone sex, if you like. I can play any role. Are you a top, ****,

or are you a bottom feeder?

Call **** Tracery, 305 999 7522



I am truly a sweet guy until soured by murder in the failed degree

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]And this is all literally true, too. I was about to be arrested again, on April first...[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]this was PREDICTIONS OF THINGS TO COME,[/COLOR]



I look my age. So will you when you have been put through the wringer.

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Reid Welch[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]305 999 7522[/COLOR]

APRIL 15th

APRIL 17th






"Professional Law Enforcement"/img/vbsmilies/smilies/cool.gif
 
And You Asked For It, Miami,

My sole brother's name is Ken...do not ask me more. WE FIGHT.

Ken was born in January, 1952...on the twenty third.

This is the town I love.

YOU ASKED FOR ME TO HARM MY HOME TOWN, PIGS




In Ode to James Roos, dear friend of the arts, we recall you now,

Uploaded by Beckmesser2 on 11 Jul 2008
The former music critic of the Miami Herold,James Roos, wrote of Pennario's playing----
"he was a dazzling polished pianist, a true virtuoso, who could be a sensation with an orchestra,
playing any glittering concerto. He played with the clarity, the speed and the accuracy of a machine gun,
with runs and octive passages of hair raising brilliance."
Leonard Pennario died on June 27th of this year at his home in La Jolla,California. He had been battling Parkinson's disease. He was 83.

Dear Jim,

we miss you so very much....


Reid

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I am hit!"
http://www.1377731.com/festival/


"Now, they shortly will duel..."
http://www.archive.org/details/WWII_News_19450506_Drew_Pearson
"Now, Miss Rush, Because You Asked For It..."
http://img256.imageshack.us/img256/9244/screenshot214lk3.jpg
"Their swords, or sticks, are by some process, hardened..."
=SINISTER?= R_Reid_Welch
I didn't endure two seasons of Latin One
1 to fail both years for no reason than passive
2
aggression against a mother who would mold the child
3 as a sort of blue Gumby: her little creation.
4
Am not a success for her. People
5 like me—some of them, sometimes.
6
Am left handed, no joking to-day; I'll never lie.
7
Lefties, for some reason we can't well-explain
8 —don't well-reflect—in their reversed world.
9
Perhaps—this is merest matter of a perspective
10 —of a Latin One, sinister, poet.
11
I am so sorry, Mrs. Thurmond—I harmed your
12 —two years
13
the tears—
14
"Veni, vidi, vici"——yet, by intent
15 this student lost all potential empire—
16
or did he? Only his friend-plus-enemy,
17
Time—shall tell the truth, always.
18
18 Dec 09

"ayyeeeh!"

"eeeeah!"

http://www10.big.or.jp/~dh/sakuma/index.html


After two hours ride from Tokyo, the express train brings you to the small town of Tateyama near the beautiful seaside.
At the end of the street, you find a small restaurant called " Concord".
As soon as you step into the entrance, you are puzzled by the fantastic sight of many hand made vacuum tube amplifiers.
'Am I in a restaurant, or in an audio shop?'.
When you need someone's help, across the counter you will find the man with a smile.
This is Mr. Susumu Sakuma.
We call him "Sakuma san".

(English polishing by Reid Welch, 1997)

http://www10.big.or.jp/~dh/wm/index.html

Dear Takuji-san.

This is Reid.

I could never do you sufficient honour before,

and even now, I fail you, my beloved master of life.


r.
 
Show Full Headers | Printer View | Add Sender To Address Book
From: " Reid Welch" <[email protected]>
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Reply-To: <[email protected]>
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To: "ZiXiang Zhang" <zixiangz>
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Subject: Re: "I am no pink powder puff"...I am a musical bowl
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Date: Mon 08/01/11 03:30 AM
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Attachments Name Type Save View Message text/plain Save
Code:
 [COLOR=#006400][B][I]ZiXiang Zhang[/I][/B] is the sound of a musical bell. Well! If ever I can find it here, I have an ancient Chinese bronze bowl, quite small, and my father told me the story of its nearly eternal ring, a fable, "When the bronze was melt, the craftsmen threw a living baby into the pot, and its dying screams impart an eternal ring." And this is true: when the bowl is tapped on its edge, it rings a bell tone, for what seems like forever. I hear an infant cry when I look into the bowl, and when I gaze into your ancient, Chinese eye. Love always, Reid ((the bowl will be yours if and when I find it again)) So often, I would beg my father to wake up the baby, although I, a baby, myself, knew it recalled pain. The bowl is a ring. Life is a blow. Cries for laughter, [I][B]ZiXiang Zhang[/B], again[/I] the sound of a musical bell. [/COLOR]
 
Thank you for your visit

It's a great honor for DIRECT HEATING to receive your visit.
DIRECT HEATING (DH) is an association for audiophiles in search
of musical sound through HAND MADE VACUUM TUBE AMPLIFIERS
designed by Mr.Susumu Sakuma.

DH is not a business society. We love audio, cinema, literature
and other arts that enrich human life.

Through our audio concerts we meet many good friends in Japan and other countries.
We hope to see many many good friends on this www home page.

Chairman Takuji Yamamoto

http://www10.big.or.jp/~dh/welcome/index.html
 
Good morning, female Officer Smith, guiding cars at Carrolton School
on Main Highway in Coconut Grove. You are so sweet and pretty.

I wish all cops would take a cue from you

and not beat to kill or bully a boy like me.

Sweetheart, I wish I were the kind of man
who would fit your nature's plan....

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]She will see this little message.
I hope I made a woman smile.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Good cops are like gold,[/COLOR]
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]and you are gold, and goodness.[/COLOR]



Officer Smith? Russ and Reid have one great commonality,

neither one ever touched a woman for carnal purposes.

(both are gay, so, no harm in romancing women, eh?)/img/vbsmilies/smilies/smile.gif



The only thing those guys ever impregnated
[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]are thoughts of "how to kill Reid for good?"[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]: )[/COLOR]
________________________________________

Good morning, Commissioner Sarnoff.

Did your chauffeur, the thick-necked fellow in the white, Chevy Tahoe,
who was idling in your driveway for the entire time I was at your park this AM,

did he pass on my message to you? Did he tell you that I love you like a flea loves a dog?

Reidy

________________________________________________________

The Home Depot, Coconut Grove, Miami, Florida, Eight AM

I rolled my bike up to the door, parked it, and asked a store assistant,

"Are you open?"

"Oh, yes...say, don't you have a Scion xB, a yellow one?"

(yes, and I told him about Miami Gas Station Robbery, he can see the car there)

And then showed him my missing left molar, and told him about the thug cops here in Miami.

I told him how The Robber instantly surrendered, lay on the ground, but was savagely beaten on the head.

I have a new video fan. Hello, guy, from THD.

Here is myself, nearly two years ago, after the cop beating,
I happened to help foil a strong arm robbery.
I got no thanks from MPD.



Readers, you will please understand, at your rate of acceptance,
that I, Reid Welch, was "blacklisted" at the time I complained to MPD IA
about the fraudulent, first arrest.

Here I was, more than six months later, clearly a hero,
and I got NO thanks, no recognition, no press coverage,
BECAUSE the USA "press" is owned by our mobster cops and pols.

I have roundly insulted all of the USA's power structures,
and for good reason. They are all in cahoots.

I was warned to NOT make waves.
I made waves. In result, I was very nearly murdered.
When that failed, an obvious campaign of persecution
was conducted, abetted by pols and judges.

This is all simple fact, not any surmise.
I have lived the truth, and paid the price.

You are witnesses to the fraudulence of today's USA.


By making myself visible, as I have, here (((thank you, Cycling Forums)))
and at YouTube and at FreeWrights Poetry Review, and other places,
and being known to Black Miami, the thug cops cannot liquidate me now.

They have decided, instead, to give me the dead-silent treatment.
No lawyer, but for my old mentor, Julian Kreeger, will talk to me.
No news agency will interview me.
The FBI, whose charter is to stop cop corruption, is corrupt, itself
((The FBI will not help me, in part, because I denounced the FBI years ago))

to wit,
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/63099/



No man in the history of the United States of America
has ****** off so many thugs, and remained non-history,

I remain,

yours,

Reidy
http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/31286/
A Letter to the Author of The Compleat Angler

Dear Sir,
1
I am cool and safe and moist
2 in the purity
3 of dig-we-must
4 for come-what-may,
5
though deeper, slower,
6 in this cold, moist stuff: the currency
7 of food banking, always my calling.
8
The only time I be overdrawn
9 is when I'd near-surely drown
10 in this lately sodden ground.
11
Regret: of your invitation
12 of last week; I think
13 I do not care to join you to
14 go fish.
15
Regards,
16 Earth Worm
17
23 Jun 06`

_________________________________
________________________________________________________

Dear female Miami FBI Agent on the phone, just a minute ago,

I wish I could be May time for you, too, dearest...I tear,



age fifty, age thirty four...of May time...Sweetheart, goodbye....

[COLOR= rgb(128, 128, 128)]______________________________________________________________________________[/COLOR]

I want to say something nice about the Agency now.

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]It is over thirty five years ago, now...year 1975 to 1978, [/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]and I am living back at home, from the Navy tenure, with my folks[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]at 1034 Almeria. Mike Beeman and Frank Ginorio are my neighbors,[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]a gay couple, very nice guys, great friends. Right across the street [/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]lives an FBI agent and his sweet wife. He's a super-decent guy.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]I like him a lot. I don't know what he does, but he's a good fellow.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]So what, if he relented and had gay sex one time with Frank?[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Frank was pretty charming! Frank was a super-talented work at home,[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]custom jeweler. He could make anything via the lost wax process.[/COLOR]

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Our cops make things disappear, similarly, by the lost facts process.[/COLOR]

______________________________________

Hello, dear Officer Belfort of South Station, good morning to you, too.

You have the cutest voice. I wish I were young and straight,

for if I were, I'd be on your case, in a heartbeat.

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]I will find a song for you, now...[/COLOR]

If anyone here thinks that tag to the video is alarmist, well,












Reid put his father's dead body from the bed, to the gurney, to the coffin,

with his bare hands. Reid watched his father die of lung cancer. Camel.



As of last June, with my mother's death, now I am an orphan.

I have no friend in this world, but for The Engineer,

http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/61213/

=The Engineer= R_Reid_Welch
S.W. 72nd Avenue, Miami, 1959
1
======================
2
Railroad iron
3 here must oppose
4 a row of flat-roofed
5 concrete boxes.
6
That's where lived a child of five
7 with turf, not much, but mostly
8
sharp gravel shards rolled hard into
9 the asphalt roadway, tough enough
10
to scuff small boys' and girls' bare feet.
11
II
12 An engineer then cranked the brakes
13 of his diesel loco—hauling stones
14
oolitic freight. He made that engine
15 slow down then for his kindest heavings
16
of small, wrapped candies—all aimed at
17 such tiny five-to-niners—making tracks
18
from up—from down—from all of those
19 almost same-hum ugly homes upon
20
that mis-termed 'avenue'.
21
Though he and his assistant waved
22 no child ever heard him speak—suppose
23
diesel roar occluded speech
24 except for human, high-pitched screams
25
of our running—signaled—joys.
26
III
27 Some of us laid on the tracks
28 —in offer to our god of power
29
penny coins of sacrifice—
30 all surrendered for flat fates
31
—the pancake face of Jefferson:
32 nickel on our richest days.
33
IV
34 Remarkable, that throttle-man
35 who may have wanted a repeat
36
of our daily pleas for sweets. Shouts
37
shoot past the wrappers in the weeds
38 —which in that roadway fight with seeds
39
of mostly boys—and some few girls
40 —all after butter scotches.
41












03 Jan 06
42


The old poem is a literal truth, put into poetic abstractions.
You see, the train track ran parallel to SW 72nd Avenue,
it was our "across the street" view. The engineer slowed
and let us all gather (he sounded his horn well in advance,
to give us notice), and we ran alongside the crawling loco,
as he and his assistant tossed great handfuls of candies,

and this was a regular event. We were poor kids,
but we felt very special, thanks to The Engineer.

And, too, because he was our "god", we made sacrifices
of our pennies, and sometimes, even a nickel!
It was to ensure that more candy would come.
Religion is not rocket science, it's common sense, you see?

_____________________________________________

Is there any group I have not yet alarmed or insulted?

Cops, politicians, judges, church people, intellectuals, news media?

I am not much, but I am telling the truth....and that act is always a caution,

especially for the bearer of torments and tears?

Marc? Mark? Linares? Chiefs?

Reid
305 999 7522

______________________________

Dear old moribund The Miami Herald,

I have insulted you too. Ernie and I were charter subscribers to your
seminal, Viewtron service. A grand each for two Scepter terminals.
It was a bust. Oh well.

Somewhere I have a January, 1933 page of the "Women's Section" (name?)
of The Miami Herald. Its cover page is a photo montage of darling tykes of Miami.
My five year old father is pictured, with his brother, in white golf togs, teeing at The Biltmore golf course.
Next in the montage is a photo of a baby in an inflatable toy pool, with a ducky,
"Edwin Eugene Aldrin, Jr...son of...visiting parents, of New Jersey."
(he was, later on, the second man to walk on the moon).


The Herald was my morning mainstay for decades, til the internet made good.

I miss The Herald of old. It's still a paper today, but smaller and smaller.

All the newspapers are hurting these days. Considering that they are owned by thugs,

well, by my cop buddies and pols and judges, I guess, the faster they shrink,

the better for us on the net.

My email address, for about fifteen years now, includes this one,

[email protected]

(people used to call me netsky, or net for short)

=am a "word splitter"

[email protected]

net sky at nets cape dot com
 
Good evening, Miami FBI female call taker,
I recited the little blue story of the my old time FBI neighbor,
as a voice-test. "OK", you said in your cute girl voice.
Gosh, I wish I were straight and young again. I'd go for you, too!

((another lost day, no talk from anyone))

...at 1034 Almeria. Mike Beeman and Frank Ginorio are my neighbors,

a gay couple, very nice guys, great friends. Right across the street

lives an FBI agent and his sweet wife. He's a super-decent guy.

I like him a lot. I don't know what he does, but he's a good fellow.

So what, if he relented and had gay sex one time with Frank?

Frank was pretty charming! Frank was a super-talented work at home,

custom jeweler. He could make anything via the lost wax process.

Our cops make things disappear, similarly, by the lost facts process.



[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Here are some examples of lost facts:[/COLOR]

a) Reid's camera memory card of the raw footage of Miami Gas Station Robbery (August 19, 2009),
given over to MPD but never returned. A dead loss of both data, and the card itself.

b)Loss of civil rights and loss of life quality as detailed in this long thread. Loss of a tooth, BAM.

c)Loss of Reid's great grandfather's silver amulet gun (he was a sheriff in 1889 Kansas) MPD IA, "We lost it"

d)Loss of speaking ability of MPD, CGPD, FBI and the local judicial system....gone dumb, not deaf.




________________________________

Voice mail message just left with the Chief of Police, Coral Gables.

Basically, I told him, again, of my frustration with the silent treatment,

and finished by calling him Wiener/Weiner a piece of diverticular colluding,

piece of **** (those words, yes).

"The Weiners" and their diverticulitis (they whined about it), were a Saturday Night Live TV staple:

"Oh, honey, did you have a good day, too?"

"Noooooooo....I have die-ver-tic-u-lieeeeee-tissss."


Judge Mark King Leban and Diverticulitis

_______________________________________________

5:37 PM EST,

Hello to Officer Sierra of MPD South Station.
Nice to make acquaintance with you.

I briefed you about why I am ****** at your ****wad, cowardly Chief.

You have a fine, handsome voice and gentle demeanor.

There are a number of exemplary cops on all forces.

You are one of them, Sierra. Thank you for taking my message.

Please tell your Chief to call Reid? For I will be calling again and again,

wasting your time at South Station. All I want for now, is explanation,

Chief Pig-eato, of why you protect a killer cop and thug cops on your force,

you mute can of pig lard, Exposito.
----------------------------------

Propane inhalation allows one to see the essence.
I will make some rash assessments based on the phone call just made.


=Officer Sierra is of Cuban American extraction.

=He is twenty four or so years old, married, has brown hair and golden skin.

=He is well-liked for his calm demeanor and friendly visage. He's very good on the phone.

=Officer Sierra is like his name. Warm and rich.

=God is great for making men like you, Sierra.

I give my love to you, Sierra, and to your station mates,
who include the perfect Marin, Mesa, Figueroa, Aguilar,
and the lovely female, Belfort.

I will give you all a song selection again.
This is by Ivor Novello...



PS: in the text above, do you understand why I make distinction of the police female?

A: because I want to make clear that I like to romance women, but too, I am gay,
and I have never taken a woman to bed, and never would do that. I will not break a girl's heart,
not that I could, not anymore, anyway.

Dear female Officer Smith, Officer Belfort,
you both are so kind, gentle, and loving.

Would I were a bird,

you'd have me in your hands.

[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]Reidy[/COLOR]

 
I bought a pebble of crack cocaine last night,
mmmmmm! Anyone can buy dope safely in the USA.

I love my Brothers in Coconut Grove and would never bring them harm.
I like most cops and would never bring them harm, however,

there are some bad cops, cops who "work" the local drug trade,
and I am a cop beating survivor, beaten for blowing the whistle about this fascist business.


I bought DOPE on the street, just as reported-available, three months ago.
I bought crack cocaine last night, and would like to report its continued supply.

Mayor Regalado?
http://www.wsvn.com/news/articles/local/21003154494794/

http://takebackmiami.blogspot.com/2011/01/regalado-must-be-held-accountable-for.html


Chief Fatshit EatAssPoodle Exposito? Sir? I LEFT A MESSAGE JUST NOW WITH YOUR VOICE MAIL,
CALLING YOU AN EXECRABLE TOOL OF COKE COPS AND KILLERS, YOU SWINE OF A PIG.

Call Reid, Chief FattyPigBuckles Exposito?
I'd like to report, again, OPEN SALES of crack cocaine and other dope
on the streets of Miami. Your cops at the main station were not interested in talking to me.

So it goes, same as three months ago,



Miami FBI? Aren't you interested in learning more about open sales of cocaine and 'bud' on our streets?
It's not news, maybe? WELL, WE DO NOT WONDER WHY, as it is BUSINESS AS USUAL FOR MIAMI
and for the USA. I AM A COP PERSECUTION SURVIVOR, and I happen to like drugs. SO DO YOU, it seems.

Reid Welch
by the phone,
305 999 7522

_______________________________

Dear Miami FBI?

Well, doesn't it beat all? I finally got a call-back from 'someone'

It was a Latino female who ranted, 'you need to stop calling me! you should be arrested,
I don't need this ****! what are you doing this for, you are going to get it!"

Her accent was not of Miami, more like New York prostitute Puerto Rican.
I will call her..."Cuchi Puta", she was very funny in a malevolent way.

Oh, you cops and rubbers, very funny.

Reid
305 999 7522


Charo is not Puero Rican, and she's a lot nicer than the threatening caller who just phoned me.
Charo is a very nice lady. Hello, Charo,

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charo

I never met you, Charo, but I have met many other great people.

The Mayor of Miami may want to call me and learn more about open drug sales
on the streets, less than one mile from his office.

Commissioner Sarnoff may want to call me and learn more about the observed sale
of narcotic at the corner of his Coconut Grove property.

Then again, "silence is the word" from our local drug dealers: the cops and pols.
__________________________________________________________________________

Miami FBI on the phone just a minute ago,

the call that came in was from a "cartoon voice" Latino female, a caricature.
It was a death-threat call. "I am from the terrorism unit and you need to STOP calling here!"
(it was about like that)
"YOU need to be arrested (or worse)".

Miami FBI? I would like that call to be investigated. It was a threatening call,
and I ASKED FOR IT, by blowing the whistle, against all advice of Judge Mark King Leban

"Don't complaint to MPD IA, Reid, they will never forgive you for making waves."

_____________________________________________________________________________________
It is called the Blue Code Of Silence.

I just called South Station of MPD, again, to "report myself" for having bought crack cocaine last night.

It's openly available.

Laughed the officer on the phone, "Welcome to Florida!"

Well, that's a funny quip. Duty Officer suggested that I call the Chief, and report there.

I made the officer laugh, "Sir? I have called him many dozens of times, with no call-back,

see, your Chief ****ticklesFannysparkles Exposito[COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)] is too much of a [/COLOR]shitslurping lard-pard [COLOR= rgb(0, 0, 205)]to call me back[/COLOR]."

(((I made South Station laugh)))




_________________________________________________

The terror phone call that Reid heard a short while ago will never be investigated.
Why? It came from our local FBI office or from the MPD.
(((cuchi cuchi talk)))"YOU NEED TO STOP CALLING HERE YOU COULD BE ARRESTED!"


_________________________________________________

8:20 AM EST, Miami FBI? I don't know who placed that threat call of a while ago.
However, I had just hung up from another aggravated pick-up by Miami FBI,
"Reid! You need to stop calling here!", *****ed a female agent.

Male Miami FBI agent of a few minutes ago? Thank you for hearing me out again.
You are a good cop. None of this is your doing. Thank you, guy,

Reid