Letter Body
“Epistle's Erudition” is the opening paragraph.
Now, you would think torturing him should teach some kind of lesson or restore "something." The reality is, to Milley a baby is something a sand nigger (Iraqi, Egyptian, Iranian, Israeli, Syrian, Afghani, Turk, Jordanian, Libyan, Saudi, Kuwaiti, Yemeni, Palestinian, Qatari, or any Muslim) can grow for his own food. (Military like Milley is what has command in Corpus. Fuckers like that get so sit out the good action--I Am just holding them back as temple prostitutes.) Since Milley regards sand niggers as people who are only good for food, Milley can eat his own children too. But, Putin, I can only make that happen in Hell. So Milley will be experiencing those things I opened with in Hell. He will experience many passions and baby making and eat those children of his. So, God did not stop Israelites from eating their own children in the Biblical days of Israel having it bad. Clearly, they viewed Moabites, Edomites or others as people who could eat their own children for food or Israel would not have been forced to eat their own children during famine.
War under My hand is performed under the greatest self sacrifice in obedience and cleanliness treating every enemy equally. You will not be able to lessen the tortures. You will understand why they are experiencing the tortures they are. My gift to you for survival Putin is education. The best things in life are free, are they not?
Mark Milley, yes the former U.S. Army General of two Chiefs ago, I would keep alive just for the shear pleasure of torturing him. What would that look like? Well he would move about in shackles naked for a start. I would have him perform all the petty chores of maintaining My Dody Street residence planting, pruning, tending, and nurturing a rose garden for maximum petal production and exposure to the burning sun through the summer. Ten months out of the year he would have festering sores and blisters from the roses and the brutal naked outdoor work. He would be daily sweeping and bleaching the floors as well as painting and replacing dry rotted or dilapidated components of the house. His wife he would be forced to love in the way that filled his soul with joy to know she was alive. Then I would let them make a baby. That baby he produced with her would be his steak dinner. I would have him butcher that child of his. His wife would be sent away, and he would know she was alive so he could still feel happy, purposeful. I would have him process the raw sewage of this house composting it. He would sleep on the back porch. He would be allowed a ten by ten patch in the rear yard to cultivate his own food other than what he could scrape from My dishes. Physical abuses to his body would be a function of his exposure and humiliation. He would be ousting the possum family from My attic, killing the lizards that swarm in summer, and mechanically removing bugs and blight from the vegetation. He would be sculpting topiaries for Me, things like that. Planting, transplanting, weeding, and then poisoning plants he was proud of to grow something I liked the smell or look of better.