Monday, December 18, 2006

Shiftless Males & Other Detritus

shift·less /ˈShow Spelled Pronunciation[shift-lis] –adjective
1.lacking in resourcefulness; inefficient; lazy.
2.lacking in incentive, ambition, or aspiration.
And this is an adjective I often use in association with the operatives when gangstalking. Placing a 25 year old male with drywall dust on him outside an classy embroidery shop for the duration I was there is an example.

I am returned to my room, my abode after another Monday "shopping" in downtown Victoria, and am 4 for 4 in visits and in seeing former colleagues on the street on these Monday trips, even if their office is 2 miles away. Suffice to say, the men perps, were putting on the obvious act, e.g. standing outside a buttons and embroidery store on a cell phone. Another tip off is having them dressed up as tradesmen, mainly the "drywall installers" act as the latest augmentation, as then they can be covered in white dust with a cover story, so to speak.

I had the UK accent gangstalk, then the geriatrics stalk, then the men with large guts, and then the men looking decidedly uninvolved in their "shopping". I also had a German speaking gangstalk filling the parkade elevator, after they mysteriously got in (weren't there on the top floor) and traveled up to then accompany my mother and I down to the street level. They spoke German as we travelled from to the 7th floor to street level, one of the "voice with no comprehension" gangstalks the assholes pull on me routinely. Spanish last week, post downtown Monday visit.

And I have some kind of highly vexing pressure applied to my head, behind my eyes that is becoming unbearable, and will continue this blog later, hopefully in more relaxed circumstances.

After a high enragement harassment time making lunch, I am getting some reprieve from the assholes that continue to pour it on for Mondays, post parents' place visitation, stayover and shopping downtown. The latter is really all about gangstalking with various feints and waves of certain demographics; young blonde women first, and so it goes, culminating in porky men and the obvious operatives, some in skinhead mode, others in shorts, T-shirt and sunglasses in the pouring rain (today, and not even putting on the jogger act).

But the perps made sure I was "browned up" before the main action; no lunch today, but a starter coffee at Starbuck's and a same colored snack. Then onto the chocolates and bicuits section of the Bay downtown where at least 20 geriatrics were on duty gangstalking. One blind woman act, wearing red no less, out dithered my mother for advice on what to get, what was a good buy, jointly fumbling the chocolate bars, etc. Then the perps inserted the working age male operatives, first on "drop by" duty, and then a swarm at the cashier. And the same biddy they had posted at a convenient chair on the W. side of the check out area last week at that very location, "just happened" to be doing the same thing on a chair positioned on the E. side this time.

I had a 20 minute long suburbs to downtown vehicular gangstalk, a deep metallic red SUV that met us pulling a wide corner in the opposite direction, and then somehow caught up to us in two minutes or so. Normally the perps don't put someone on my tail for so long, but instead, replace them with the same colored vehicle from another intersection street. This time though, a full blown single vehicle gangstalk to within 4 blocks of downtown, and from my parents' suburban street. And as a starter vehicular gangstalk, I got the fore and aft same color vehicle treatment, white, before they tried on deep metallic blue green.

The perps awakened me in the night again, all to hear some loud mufflered vehicles passing by at 0500h, and more in the distance afterward. Then later the neighbor gets his diesel truck out and runs it, sitting there for 10 minutes, before the diesel handicapped bus arrives to take my father to his activity day.

And I note that the seagulls are in high pitched screech mode today, both at my parents' place and here, and unlikely to be the same birds. A seasonal thing maybe. Companion noise for the over-protracted squealing brakes and fanbelts that has erupted over the last two weeks.

And I got shit stalked while at my parents' yesterday; my father followed me to take a shit in the same bathroom (when this is the one he doesn't usually use) within 5 minutes of me vacating the bathroom. It never ends; the perps preoccupation with all things brown, including taking a shit.

And as I clicked the edit button, the noise began, another example of this constant noisestalking over everything I do. And this begins after opening the window as the perps have been laying on the heat this afternoon, and not a thermostat in sight anywhere. And more typo sabotage of a very selective kind; only letters that I am about to type in the current word or next one get "included", (read mind-controlled) as typos. More senseless fuckery, and my typing has gotten worse when I should be significantly improved through more practice these days. The assholes never let me type very fast, some 20 wpm, though there are spurts where I can double it if allowed, with no errors.

Now the noisestalking is coincident with the display of facial images; in this case, I was reading the blog of a scientist, no celeb he, and someone outside my door whacked the floor as his image displaed on my LCD panel. Celeb images are also fair game, though I don't usually follow their travails, and very often they want me to follow new ones in the making instead of familiar faces.

And a gangstalker wandering about with a guitar today; an electric one and not in a case of any kind. The silly season is here, which means plenty of deep red and deep green colors, and that is worth a lot to the sickos that chase me about and play mind-fuck games.

One such game is for them to confuse the street names on me, usually in the course of discussion of a specific location as to a store etc. Today, Yates and View got reversed on me, and then I was re-applied with the normal conceptulizations, my own. Another long standing game for my mother is to have two similar topics on the go, and deliberately confusing the two. She involved me in conversation over fixing Windows and her cell phone recently and then brought up both to then have them crossed over as to which was what. And in the process she "forgot:" her usual moniker for MS Word, calling it My Word to keep the concept confuseable with her recent travails on the cell phone. There is at least one of these a visit, and they are fucking tiresome as it so deliberate and obvious. And more typo fucking as I wrote that.

A gratuitous quote I encountered today;
"Thought that is silenced is always rebellious. Majorities, of course, are often mistaken. This is why the silencing of minorities is necessarily dangerous. Criticism and dissent are the indispensable antidote to major delusions." ~ Alan Barth
Back to the post-dinner ceiling (overhead floor) pounding and squeaking again. That very familiar sound and this is the first of it today, just for dinner. Anyhow, another coincidence, and if miss any, let me know.

Another left-hand drive vehicle experience/gangstalk today, this one aimed at "fooling me", which it did temporarily. A vehicle was ahead of me in a backstreet, and stopped at the corner in front of me, driving my parents' Ford Escape. A person got out of what I thought was the driver's seat, and yet the vehicle proceeded on. Another look at this oddity discovered that it was a left-hand drive vehicle, totally without any hints by way of licence plate, identifying sticker etc. This fake me out routine is not new, though using a left hand drive vehicle to do so was. It is the about the fifth such vehicle type occurence in the past two months, and the second with my mother on the once per week driving I do for her.

More overhead clunking and pseudo-floorboard squeaking. This was timed to two orange plasma flashes, one on each side of my LCD display, emulating the spoofed Windows functionality I get.

Another plasma flash, this in the red color of the translucent plastic bags that are being paraded or planted wherever I am. My daughter's Christmas present last week was inside such a grotesque bag, and now my mother's kniting bag, with more are stashed at my parents' place in the room I sleep in. At the apartment building I lived in before this rooming house, they left a condom of the identica color and translucency there on the walkway for over a week, placed at the T junction of the walkways. If there were real groundskeepers there, that wouldn't of lasted a day.

More instant coughing outside my door, this time when I had my earmuffs on. One cough, and it was over. Though I am getting a serious maser field, the fuzzy dot kind, sitting between me and the LCD display.

More zapping again, in conjunction with the sudden onset squeak sound, not attributable to any human interaction. Just a harassment noise, that is difficult to assign as routine when it happens. And of course I loathe being zapped anytime, and yet the assholes still keep up this infernal torture.

Another favorite jerkaround is to pull the right side window and scroll bar borders to the left by a half inch. Senseless juvenility.
Noisestalked Words du Jour;
San Quentin Prison, gravity (zapped), tank (as in military vehicle use), changing text size, font and weight (e.g. above included quote; meaning, it wasn't so spontaneous as I thought), Botrytis,

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