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The Queerest of the Queer publicity campaign was started when I, Kurt Brown, alias Saint Ram Bone, was attacked in February of 2001 after investigating a murder labeled suicide at my prior employer, the federal agency known as the FDIC (Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation) in San Francisco. I have since that time decided to tack on the "also known as" name for the painting as, "The most dieR house talisman dual painting".
No response was given by the FBI or Secret Service to my cries for help after the attempt on my life, but they hound me incessantly if I do journalistic work. All of my charges for doing the Queerest of the Queer investigation were nolle processed in 2004 but they continued to harass me until 2011 acting as if the charges were current. In 2011 I had the charges removed for the second time and I could not sue for the brain damage and memory loss due to forced injections and medical torture because the statute of limitations had passed since the second set of injections and torture in 2004. The show goes on, and apparently most strangers do not care who is maimed or killed here in the USA.
The year I was doing the investigative journalistic work was in 2001 and I had been employed there at the FDIC San Francisco in 2000. Whacking the San Francisco F-DIC Head and calling it self mutilation is a bit sordid if you have a few pointed questions like a journalistic sort with an inside take on things. They whacked him around the time of the year of the butcher, the FDIC Act of 1991. Since that time I have uncovered medical crimes, money crimes, and they nearly killed me, maiming me and living me partially blind and with a stroke from injections and torture and medical procedures, leaving me unconscious at one point. My memory recently came back on many things. I was not in a stroke and coma type of condition when I painted the bottom surface of the painting in February of 2001. The layer underneath was before the stroke and injections and coma and memory loss in April of 2001 and the repeat injections in 2004 forced upon me and unconsciousness and forced medical procedures. It is the darkest part of the painting because I saw it coming. I do not remember the date of the top layer of the painting, but it had to have been after August 11, 2001, the time I was scheduled for release from torture and jail.
Also when I was in the USA Navy in the 1980's, our gunnery man on the USS Reid FFG-30 threw the guns and computers overboard when he found that he and others were on a list on the computers that called many of us "Queers". It was in 1983 or the first few months of 1984 that he threw the things overboard. I spoke with him before the military police hauled him off of the ship and he told me that I was on the list as well. That is what another man told me also, a Yeoman, who was on the list also. The Yeoman was in almost in tears and told me that he was on the list and they had labeled him queer and they were going to get rid of him, meaning to make him resign from the US Navy. What he did not know is that those of us listed as Queers on the list were not queers, but guinea pigs for some sort of experiment and to say they had to get rid of us by a certain date meant that the tests dates were slated and that we had to particapate. I talk about it on page Love Line 12 of this site, Mobile Audit Club. I was the Quartermaster who navigated the ship and assisted the Captain. This page evolves over time. I have navigated the ship in a space time dis-continuum and have driven up Sheriff Jack "Snatch The Fairy Possum" Tillman's backside in the painting. It all looks roses inside but Snatch is having a hard time counting backward to commemorate our commencement date of 4-3-2001. He is constipated and pushes us out or is trying to rather in the House Talisman. As you can see, the Jelly-Bolus (Gelibolus), what FFG-30 was renamed after being allegedly sold to Turkey, has come out. I and my shipmates are inside Snatch and still in a dieR strait. In reality the food funds thief Sheriff Snatch was forced out in 2005 or 2006 from office. We met in 2001 when I was reporting him and I shouted in the Mob AL Government lobby, "Jack is in the crack, and your kids ain't coming back". I did not know what it meant except he was starving men in his jail, but it meant more, it was a message about my shipmates on the Queer Guinea Pig experiment list on FFG-30. I saw Snatch in a dream and he was crying and apologetic, or was it Snatch? Here is a joke, your intestines knock and you ask, "Who is there? The answer comes back as a riddle -- "The Queerest of the Queer or the Gelibolus.?" I am sad today for all of us really. Snatch can not help it that he has brain damage and that he starved men due to his greed and indifference. It is like being a retard in God's house with many other retards in need of a tutor. After all, there is a lot going on inside of him, the whole Lott of us feeling queer and dieR. In the deep dark river inside Snatch, all of us bear the queer long knights, each of us wearing our prison looking Navy work clothes feeling like a Blue Collar Man in the river Styx (music). Lucky for me, Saint Ram Bone, aka Captain Kurt, I am the navigator, Kurt Brown.
Click to enlarge
Before Kurt Fixed The Triangulated Problem I Dead Reckon
After Kurt Fixed Problem
You can buy this house Talisman by contacting Saint Ram Bone at firstname.lastname@example.org
The painting for sale is extremely unusual in its virtues. I did not realize it when I drew it, but the top layer of the painting, which is the second one down on this page, is a snap shot of us Sheriff Snatch with doG overseeing all. Sheriff Snatch the Fairy Possum is Sheriff Jack Tillman who I had terminated for funds theivery. When I first reported it, he took my gun permit and blocked my entry to government on 4-3-2001 after I had reporting an attack on my life three days after the preceding St. Valentine's Day 2001. The Sheriff lost his Sheriff Possum badge in his burrow, and we call him, "Snatch The Fairy Possum", and I will soon make a movie of a type of Wizard of Oz, about Braman Oklahoma and time transport with the Queers who are from the ship "dieR", a play on the name of USS Reid FFG-30. In the overlay painting is Sheriff Snatch of the Queers, the Queers taking a from the key hole with Snatch relieving himself of 360 thousand dollars of Gelibolu. We are being excavated or excremented in San Francisco via Mob. AL, as we recite, "4 3 2 1 My Friend". Above Snatch is the overseer of the Queerest of the Queer in the painting, with a head like a bull and an ass like a bull frog, and is in reality Balboa street at the Ocean walk in San Francisco, and I call it the part of mother Earth known as doG, the overseer. One of the songs will be "The Queerest of the Queer" by Garbage as on this Youtube Video.
The image can be anything for the final queerest of the queer layer of the painting. I tend to play with Jack and navigate about with the other Queers in there.
Braman, Snatch The Fairy Possum, Bow Bone, Sueet Carol, Masa Shee-it, Saint Ram Bone, the Queer gunner and the Queer Yeoman are a few in the list of characters I Captain Kurt envision. I reported the assassination attempt on my self the Tuesday before 3-4-2001 to the Mobile Alabama City Council. The illegal regime in power blocks my entry into their govenment meetings since that date.
They do not want their atrocities televised, so I put the results here in art. The white night owl can be seen eating on the road kill in the underlieing painting, it is the murdered FDIC director and I hold the light for all to see. Behold, the greatest painting of all time, the house Talisman, the Queerest of the Queer.
Some people may ask why I tend to layer my paintings, one painting on top of the other, much like my $911 million dollar painting on the Quatrains 1 page of Mobile Audit Club. The world is in constant transition, and because life follows the wave pattern, or sine wave pattern, we are allowed a glimpse of two layers at once frequently and on somewhat of a constant continuum, manipulated by unequal pressures to become randomized. Therefore, my paintings are like those things that let you see into the future, and the past is always a question as well.
In a comment made after the news release link on Indybay.org below, I explained the scientific explanation under current scientific dogma of why I layer my more exquisite paintings. For the revelation to hold true, it has to be viewed at the right angle and intensity and combination of wave lengths of light. In the comment, someone replied and I spoke before I thought. In my mind, you can be an ally today and my enemy tomorrow. If I see you kill to steal, I doubt your credibility as an enlightened human, and I do not care whose circle you claim heritage. The comment is after this article on Indybay.org.
Update: The two layered painting above has on the outer layer an encrypted message(s). It took me a while to find one of them and I am not sure what it means, but it appears than one has blown his brains out while the other refuses to let go. I painted the San Francisco Harbor entry at the Pilot Rock, and I now call the painting, "The Queerest of The Queer"
It is time to have some fun, while the mongoose(s) is Attila the Hun. Watch the shadows in the nights, as they grip hold of things in the strong winds like rabbits and puff adders before he bites. His bite is shallow and is for the well, so do not struggle opposed when you hear the bell. The pic above was first of Earth a living hell, Kurt painted it over, and now it is for sale (House Talisman, Acrylic on Canvas 3 feet by 4 feet $9.11 Million OBO. You can email the artist at "> Saint Ram Bone hotmail, and send a copy to Saint Ram Bone's alternate email at Yahoo which is the Yiddish Saint Vechter Yahoo, meaning Watchman of the dead.
Direct the lens toward the light, watch man received a guiding light. Change is upon us and there is a tale to tell. Should he play his guitar, his tongue can cut corrupt political asp like a knife, and he does not even have to write. The little asps perched atop the crown of thorns and thieving directors seat in the "Village of The Damned" shudder when they see him with his six-string on his way, the cut and slit noose on his neck from the sailors deck, and the interlaced dual-triangle badge of courage of gay pink and black he likes to display for the Alabama Judas Priest Judge Moore. Kurt had a vision of being under the vanity lights of the Hollywood scene, but now he feels like a 2008 pound Gorilla and he wants to make a Village of The Damned clean up team before our earth loses all of its green, and he is feeling rather mean and lean.
Sidney Vicious, Chaser of Rats, says Rub The Mouse Across The Pic And Click To Enlarge Kurt and Himself
Self-fulfilling prophecies are a mixed blessing with a fatal curse, sometimes the inevitable end and sometimes a bright new beginning. Like Martin Luther King and a billion other whispers of hope in a struggling world, I too have a dream. That dream is the propagation of the human species into the farthest reaches of time and space and an awakening of the consciousness of man to the least common denominators of utmost importance in a world consumed by seemingly infinite technology.
Space colonies of floating free form with bioengineered conveyances in life, with no final form but an infinite and expanding array, each self-contained. The garden of life should have at some points deserts between to save the sanctity of variety. Bio-engineered applications in Earth's environment should be restricted and monitored on Earth, as the over-bearing locust swarms comes in many forms.
If a species is contained to one environment the chance of survival is reduced to nil in the long run. The more something is cut, the more it grows, if it's environment is condoning to life. Beware of the hidden agenda of the destroyer and beware of the outright blatancy of the wounded child in their slicing of all around them in the darkness and remember that man is like an abused child, somehow remiss in some actions and traits, as if blind, deaf, and dumb, with a spite of genius and brevity on the quick slice.
8-28-2004, written ~2002 .... Vexed within seven triangles of equal proportions with energized tips.
Floating ring tube to magnetic field with ball housing center house anew.
Totally transparent within Rubicon cubes of garnet of red rose.
Trembling strength bound by contradictory laws formulated to suppress will become clad like iron pipe harboring and suppressing within its walls the nation of the red calves.
An end to present.
Darkness of oppression covered in sheaths of silk eventually stained red of sky.
Release and reversal to a darker age with new species reigning supreme in light years time.
New specie of tougher exterior and larger cranium, gray of flesh and bulging blubber.
Possible time splits with concurrent realities unlikely.
Possible deception from exterior to all things.
All things possible.
No truly inventive things possible if contrived from prior knowledge or illusory distortion of fact as being a, "Dream within a dream", per Poe.
Nothing is as ever bad as it seems, a whisper of a past voice.
Consciousness singular muscular string of bypassing windows dark, gray, or light.
Flux stream pulse wild continuous evolving toward pulling current of primal space.
Tattered, torn world, of ineffective leaders, of weakness, of ignorance, of a defective stage.
History hidden of past vision, past animal, past master, revealed in tricks of trade pointing North from the Nile toward the emerging sections of the human race and the celestial pole.
Past builders more organic and conscious of environment thereby structures are gone, with possible loss through cataclysmic astronomic events.
Never a trace of the past master specie race, except of knowledge of North that was true.
Possible that more knew of greater knowledge and retained portions without distribution.