Welcome
Human beings that should never have been born and which intruded themselves into my life
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There have been numerous people in my (BMcC) less than life who have been, to put it politely, not helpful. I have also encountered bad actors who did not hurt me personally. Only a very few persons have made constructive contributions. The following individuals have egregiously caused me pain, suffering and/or trouble. Some of them have been proactively despicable (my mother was pathetic). I assiduously endeavor to avoid all persons whom I think might hurt me, such as "strict" teachers. But I couldn't get away from these moving roadblocks on the highway of my life.[1] | |||||
| DOGKENNEL卐 [Codeword] |
My last manager in IBM Corporation. Treated me as if he was an SS Officer 卐 and I belonged to an inferior race. [fill in the blank] | ||||
| The ADLB ActiFist |
Another person whose name I figure it is advisable not to voice. A threat to "the life of the mind" who influences followers, as described: here. | ||||
| [Name unknown, possibly: Diehl or Seeger?] | Doctor who, when I was a helpless infant who could not stop him, circumcised my penis. First do no harm, doctor.[2] | ||||
| Martin Kossover, LCSW | Teach at Westchester Institute for Training in Psychoanalysis and Psychotherapy who lied, and who, as my clinical supervisor, speculated I maybe was psychotic and a danger to patients.[6] | ||||
| Stella M**** Z**** McCormick | Female biological progenitor, aka: mother. Alcoholic ambulatory schizophrenic with no "boundaries" vis-à-vis me (BMcC[18-11-46-503]). Toward the end of her life, changed her given name to: "Rhea". Unlike other people on this page she was probably not terribly bad — maybe being an adult was beyond her capabilities? — but she was functionally bad for me. | ||||
| S. Atherton Middleton | Benighted Headmaster of the benighted prep school I attended grades 7-12 (St. Paul's School for Boys, Brooklandville, MD). A Mr. Dialtone ☏. | ||||
| Miss Lilian Lorenz | Mr. Middleton's perma-virgin prude secretary whose priggery caused me trouble. | ||||
| Mike Rentko | Seventh grade English teacher who tried to crush my soul due to my having decided to stop writing cursive script and write all block uppercase letters instead.⛼ | ||||
| [Name lost: New York State licensed cinical psychologist] | This bitchmiddle aging woman who lived securely in an expensive house built on solid rock told me that I needed to give up even the bes I spelt in to be able to qualify to have self-respect.⛼ | ||||
| Barbara Krizack | My self-important Goucher art history B.A. self-conceited boss when I was Asst. to the Registrar at The Baltimore Museum of Art, who, when she didn't like that I got into work before her and took all the fun mail to work on, instead of confronting me about it, tattletailed to the Director Charles Parkhurst who was another self-important ass who told me that he was an old military man (No wonder he had a fetish about the Lovis Corinth "The Black Hussar" painting).... | ||||
| Jim van Fleet | My first manager in IBM Corporation. Wore socks with machine stitched Mickey Mouse images but would not discourse with me about small rodents. | ||||
| Frank Visconti | Architect who sold me and my wife a house with problems at the peak of George Bush's aneurysm economy that was going to burst, at a grossly high price considering what it was. Scoundrel. | ||||
| William Clinton Burriss Young | Ancient History teach at StP who made a fool of me by assigning a manual arts project in an academic course. | ||||
| [Given name unknown] Franco, M.D. | Physician at Pennsylvania State University Student Health Service who told me my "place in life was something other than to be good with women".[3] | ||||
| [Afraid to state his name, DO/WT] | Uncouth person who ran a mental health clinic. I was seeing a very troubled patient at the psychoanalytic institute who was also poor and I was trying to get him medication. I was trying to help a very troubled person. This [fill in the blank] threatened me that if I continued to see the patient he would do something harmful not clearly specified to me. He a license to harm me. | ||||
| Ron Even | Full of himself SMARTS/EMC manager, who treated me shabbily because I (BMcC[18-11-46-503]) wasn't as good a Java code hacker as he was with his NYU PhD in Computer Science. Obese (obtuse). Yankee baseball fan. His father was a real medical doctor; his wife was a real medical doctor, too. A smiling face, he lived well in his managerial corpulence, [ful]filling his office desk chair's seat with his two big couch potatoes. | ||||
| Volodymyr Oleksandrovych Zelenskyy[4] | TV Commando Z. Since I have not had the misfortune to personally encounter this man, maybe he should not be here. But he is causing so much harm in the world (+2022.03.23), and I fear he may lead to me and millions of other people dying from radiation poisoning in the thermonuclear World War III he will cause before abandoning his selfish patriotic war in Ukraine, that he is trying to suck everybody else down into, plus he is repulsive as a person. He is holding the Ukrainian people hostage, instead of getting over himself and taking the next flight to his 15 room villa in Tuscany, Italy, to get the freedom from Russian influence he lusts for, without killing other people. Sorry you were born, TV Commando Z. | ||||
| Circe [Codeword] | Fashionista tennis club artist wannabe: People felt blessed by her presence. She cast a spell on a good hearted clueless man to be her meal ticket and cater to her every least whim in trembling fear that she might get upset. (Nancy Pelosi and Joe Biden?) Did not personally harm me but was unbearable to see everybody cater to this poseur. (If you, my reader, think I am jealous and resentful of people that are wastes of space and time who get a free lunch, because I am bitter that I didn't get any, you guessed right.) | ||||
| International Universities Press (IUP) (1944-2003) | They gave me trouble with my dissertation. They only let me to quote a large block of economically and intellectually uninteresting text in the deposit copies of my dissertation, not on University Microfilms (UMI). A person at UMI said they rarely had problems with publishers but they had had problems with IUP before. Not associated with any university I could find, was it the vanity press of the Freudian orthodoxy?⛼ | ||||
| Consequentially ambivalent: | |||||
Don Holmes Nix, Ph.D. | Provided me the opportunity at IBM to get involved in educational research, as his technical valet, but myopically failed to cultivate the relationship grow to peer inquiry. His problems / limitations were symbolized by both (1) having an earned doctorate in a humanities field, and also (2) the pet Nixname he reserved for his intimates, to which I was not privy: "Sluggie". A do-gooder: he loved being lauded for raising up the disadvantaged who would always be below him but did not help me to become his peer. | ||||
| Minor players: | |||||
| Mike [Surname Freudianly repressed] | Fashionista fop manager I had in Dell/EMC. Lived in NYC and commuted to White Plains and thought a lot of himself. Spent a lot of work time on the phone basking in self-satisfaction with God-knows-who — maybe often his social life? Stuck me with ass—ignments where I had to keep trying to show I was doing something when he was just wasting my precious time trying to pretend to do stuff that made no sense to me, and he did not care one iota about me but I was stuck under him. (Aside: Mike the headless chicken died in 1947.) | ||||
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Footnotes
- ↑ In the house my family lived in when I was between 4th and 7th grade, in one of the bathrooms there was a little slot in the wall for a man to deposit his used shaving razor blades. Razor blades are sharp and dangerous. Once deposited in that little slot the used blade went somewhere inside the wall of the house where it was permanently entombed and it would not hurt anybody. Just imagine if there was such a little slot in reality into which I could insert people like the ones on this page.
- ↑ If the doctor who did it was jewish, I was born 01:02AM on a Saturday. Shouldn't he have been home doing whatever jews do on their Sabbath, instead of engaging in the labor of hacking off my foreskin? Of course, every Saturday is always followed by s Sunday, and better late than never, right, cutter?
- ↑ This man maybe thought no more about what he had said than if he had picked his nose. But it resonated with the overriding theme of my entire life: that Bradford had no right to sexuality, which was a lemma of the foundational axiom that nobody cared about whether there was anything in my life that I would like. Unlike for other people, I presume, the first time I found meaning in my life was thinking that life had no meaning, I still find that meaningful today. Let me focus that more precisely: I do not want my life to have any meaning because any meaning my life could have would probably be something somebody wants to extract from me that hurts me such as dying for some Good Cause that makes life meaningful for them.
- ↑ G-rated codename: "DOGFOOD"?.
- ↑ I resent having a name. It functions as a collar around my neck for persons with power over me to attach their leashes to to jerk me around: "Bradford do this." "Bradford do that." "Bradrod don't do this other thing." ..... | "I am that am." (Exodus 3:14) Who or what are you?
- ↑ The kind of question Mr. Kossover never asked me in superision: "The way I insult and demean you must make you hate and despise me, and wish I was dead, doesn't it? If it doesn't, then something really is wrong with you and you should not be treating patients."
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