Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Christmas Swamping

A visitation to the drug store for my medications, which I suspect are more for the perps' color games, these ones being yellow and white, and by managed coincidence there was a consistent theme of placing yellow objects proximate to me. That included changing the side of the bus to yellow for an advertisement, the yellow "safety" anoraks which are the rage in this "hikey-bikey" city, and the dressed up ones too. There was a male operative crush at an intersection before I got there, which would of been my warning about the nutzo gangstalkers in the store. There they put on the male leatherjackets, followed by female long grey hairs, then male white hairs with ponytails and flowing beards. And for good measure, they made sure that some kind of spatter was over the face of Liz Hurley on a magazine cover, and that there were more than a few blondes on other magazine covers, as well as gangstalking blondes in brown coats. Blondes seem to be the leading edge of introducing new combinations and other traumatization re-visitation stunts, the all time classic being the one in a 1950's startched white nurses outfit.

And as I visualize the parade of gangstalkers and other associated whackos from this recent trip, the overhead pounding and squeaking has started up. The perps had swarmed the aisles where the chocolate was by the time I got my Rx in hand, and so it was clear that was not allowed as a food item for the next day or so. Tommorrow I get another Feral Family gangstalk with my mother for her downtown needs, one being the third visit to this infernal bead store where the operatives swarm about me, and even put on the absurdity of these "interested" males in abundance, unattatched to a partner no less. And as the staff are three blondes, I expect there will be a whole lot of dumbshitting on the part of my mother to protract the event, and serve as a delay for other sickos to duplicate the exercise.

And the perps put on a group of hispanics outside this rooming house when I got back; they are rare here, and I have no idea why they need me to hear Spanish spoken as I am about to return to this building. But there is a geographic component to all this harassment, and maybe they were fresh off the boat and have some kind of native geographic energies the perps wanted to test for. Plus they like me to hear voice at normal volume, but not make out any meaning. The all time coincidence of that was in 1996 when TWA Flight 800 went down when I was in France, and we had it on the TV news there. As it was Paris bound, it got significant airplay. On that note, the overhead noise stalking and pounding resumes.

Back to the constant perversity of someone faking a cough for two straight minutes, often timed to page display changes or especially application changes. The perps got me raged up for making lunch again; splitting the tortilla for no apparent reason, inudating me with brown crumbs on every surface I was using, even the hot plate knob gets one on top of it sometimes, and flaking off brown crumbs from the tortilla as it is cooking, and burying it underneath. They also pulled an olive oil suckdown in the fry pan where it all "disappeared", seemingly absorbed by the second tortilla. Recharging the olive oil between the tortillas is mandatory now, where the olive oil persisted in enough quantity to cook both before. I am still on the no red onion diet, and am not surprised by the increase in deep red color dressed gangstalkers today, one sitting in the driver's seat of a parked car knitting wool with that very color. More absurdities, and they like to have a few for every outing.

I also got the obese squeeze play; two oversized women each wearing dark red colors converging at right angles with me approaching the center of this dynamic configuration, though it never got physical thankfully. One was wearing yellow underneath her jacket.

As usual, another rush hour level of vehicular traffic was put on for me in my walk to the stores and back, and they also put on the usual north - south version as well. In the case of the latter, they even parked a 5 tonne delivery truck in the middle of the road in a left turn lane, 4 way lights flashing while the driver wandered off into an adjacent parking lot. Another go figure; only in this Potemkin Village netherworld where the perps create every aspect of my existence, down to farts, faux burps (more like a transient pressurization, no emission from my digestive system) and including everything I say, including stuttering, a new feature the assholes have introduced. And they won't come out of the closet and rather send in fruit flies as their surrogates where the maser beams that are constantly flitting aren't getting the results they are looking for.

The noise assault has begun, likely for this very activity. An jet aircraft noise, then another aircraft, water in pipes noise, and a next door bathroom visitor who manages to "boot" the heating register before he (somehow) got through the doorway. The heating register is shared with this room, and some asshole makes sure it somehow gets/makes noise each time an operative uses the bathroom. This time the fuckers added a zap into it, just to piss me off all the more.

All afternoon they have been dithering my right eye vision, fogging it when a new web page displays, when I bookmark a site, when I cut, paste and delete names of performers worthy of bookmarking, and anytime I make the decision to do so. And for extra annoyance, they add in maser zingers (fuzzy grey balls that drift in my visual field) and plasma flashes, often off screen and usually beside it.

No teatime today, and maybe the perps want a long continuous run up to dinner time. They have gone noise assault beserk when reading WWII retrospectives, especially ones planted to keep my attention.

More weird emanations from the LCD display; I am reading a music review where a vertical split screen of a close-in image of a female face and text and the perps somehow cause the image to irradiate or somehow bother me while reading text. Who knows if this is the next harassment method, and it has years to play for the hubristic assholes and their pernicious agenda where they trash my life from a remote location. The number of celebs pictures that are noisestalked the instant they display in a web page change does cause me to wonder what connection the perps are looking for between them and me. It is very strange, as I don't follow many celebs and their travails, and that too is likely by design.

Much of the graphics are not displaying on the web pages I select; this is especially true for Amazon.com and the Best of 2006 CD listings. I haven't seen a full graphics Amazon web page for over two years now. My shopping basket has been stalled out for a year; the perps won't let me get past credit card entry when they did before. Not a big deal, as they have ensured the finances are tight these days, owing to the PC takeout and the new shoes in September, a $1,000 hit from the blue, coordinated around moving day. My brother might buy my cell phone in another $300 fiasco of that time, so that might be my "income" to keep me solvent for this month.

A spate of squeaky fan belt vehicles erupts; three in succession, all with their own noise signature. It used to be that every 10th vehicle had a bad muffler or tailpipe, now the level of "repair" has found more fertile ground for noise variations. And in fact, it is likely made from their noise machine, some kind of device that projects sound as if it were distant. There was a time when I could pick this sound source out as it had a more metallic ring, but now I cannot. At the last residence location I would look for the vehicles to pass by on the thoroughfare but they rarely materialized.

An an hour of bookmarking CD's that I might want to hear if I ever have a normal life again, demonstrates that the sickos are as diligent in noisestalking me typing a space, comma, dash etc. as they are in celeb names. It never ends, this monumental effort to determine the energetics of every aspect of my existence, most of which I am unaware of, and the assholes keep at it, now 4.5 years of this infernal wretchedness. All they do is keep cranking me up, mind-control wise, and enrage me with typo (and other) sabotage, of which this paragraph is an supreme effort to correct and complete. Fucking sick that this goes on at all, never mind this grinding harassment at the hands of these depraved cowards.

I am allowed to sample music on CD Baby, a step up from the crash/blocking of Amazon.com's Realplayer music samples. This allows "me" a mental escape of sorts, instead of the constant visual impairment harassment while web surfing. Time to blog off.

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