Friday, January 05, 2007

A Gangstalk in the Rain

It was a necessary walk into downtown to acquire a new fitted sheet as the perps expanded the rip in the fitted sheet to 36" from less than half that the night before when it first "erupted". And of course there was a new augmentation to the weave, this being a checkerboard of 1/8" squares with a dull/shiny alternation, one of their favorite fabric variants to stalk by.

And it was a holy gangstalking event, the15 minute walk/direction in the city to The Bay, a Canadian department store icon, and the only source that "came to mind" as a location to purchase a replacement to the ripped one.

The rain serves as an excuse to put on bright colors which were in great evidence in the form of umbrellas, anoraks and full length raincoats. The gangstalker/perp color of interest was yellow, as my purchase was in a yellow plastic bag, and I had been "groomed" on these bags and their colors twice before Christmas with visitations to The Bay with my perp abetting mother and I packed her yellow plastic Bay bags for her then. And today, a Jaguar turned in front of me when returning with my shopping with the identical colored Bay bags stacked in the back seat, and the rear window open (in the rain no less) for them to be seen without any intervening glass. Very funny, and very depraved to add that level of idiocy into following and colorstalking me for 4.5 years.

And there were no shortage of working age males wandering the streets on a work day, and again it was no coincidence that they had on their red and yellow colored anoraks, and even planted themselves on two sides of me at the intersection that also featured an identical gangstalking scenario as the last time I was there some three weeks ago. A black man was in flat black clothing was standing at the SE. (opposite to me) corner of View and Blanshard. This was the identical person and configuration as the last time when I was at the same intersection. Talk about (managed) rarities; there are few blacks in this city, and here he was in the same clothing at the same intersection and configuration on a weekday.

And besides plenty of yellow "safety" anoraks and other outside clothing, the perps laid on more yellow vehicles, signs and other visual objects. One of their favorites are steel and other dense metal objects in yellow; excavators and the near ubiquitous boom trucks are very common on "my" travels, scripted to the level of breathing I suspect.

And this entire fuckover in the perps ripping my bed sheet may also have some family coincidence/perp "value". One of my brothers has a laundromat business and he, supposedly, recieved a large order of newly acquired sheets from a hotel to launder over Christmas, and was helping out owing to unexpected staff shortages. When nothing is a coincidence in my existence, surely that isn't either.

A coughing contest has erupted in the hallway over the last 20 minutes, and they always script a "passing by" gangstalker to erupt in coughing or hacking outside my door, and add in a mild simutaneous zap to make me jump all the more.

And now a room shaking session is on again, so it is time for a break to cook some lunch, and deal with that.

A post mealtime breakout of room shaking and outside noise; aircraft, steel dolly clanging, and sirens, almost like walking downtown this morning.

This is one of the first non-poultry lunches I have had at my own place in 4.5 years, since the overt harassment began. I had leftover ham for lunch, and there is plenty more in the fridge, so I suspect the perps want to get the digestion energetics understood for ham as they know for poultry based protein sources. They get a once a week exposure to red meat when "I" go to my parent's for dinner each Sunday (perp abettors of the first order), but I suspect that they want more successive red meat meals to get better assay opportunities. (The perps measure sidereal/torsional/etheric energies around and in me, one being digestion of specific protein sources such as red meat).

This is the post teatime and chocolate digestion time, one of the prime gangstalking moments next to actually eating the chocolate itself. For the latter, they put on an very noisy aircraft which accompanied opening, breaking and eating the chocolate. As mentioned in past blogs, this rooming house is not on a commercial flight path, and the nearest one is the Victoria Inner Harbor, and no aircraft are heard from there. And with the intense rain today, I suspect the harbor to harbor (Vancouver) air traffic is not running. Anyhow, the very act of typing this is getting noisestalked, and more of this particular harassment vocabulary especially.

The perps put on five brown vehicles and one 5 tonne delivery truck with a white box in the adjacent parking lot and street when I had my breakfast this morning. They were quickly replaced by other combinations of whites, navy blues and reds. I assume the reason for getting the colors in close to me is to attempt some kind of color interaction, and then they back them off, and look for that same interaction from greater distances. Then also, they are looking for color combinations: red in front of brown, a light blue colored brown cardboard in a yellow plastic bag (this morning at the Bay) etc.

And more pit-lamping is happening these days; this is the act of having vehicles sitting and pointing their headlights at me, though this term can be used for the same with red tailights. This was evident downtown earlier, and they will even drive a pickup that I pass by when parked, some 50' down the road and have it again park beside me when at the intersection, with the headlights on all the time. There are also silvery flashes and sparkles coming from this LCD display, so I assume that is part of the game of having white light trained on me, or in my proximity as much as possible.

More leg muscle cramps are "happening", usually in response to me plugging my ears when they keep loud engine noises going nearby. Never have so many "people" revved their engines near me, and been so persistent about it.

This is the post mealtime harassment intensification time, and it is celebrated by a coughing and barking act, the supposed "never gets better" resident of this putative rooming house. Like clockwork almost, every 20 seconds.

In its place the room shaking act has started up; one per minute, and ever more objects are vibrating even with the same noise volume and thereby, the same cover story as to its origination of closing the front door.

The next door bathroom games continue; someone messing with the in-wall heating vent for half a minuted to "adjust" it when it is a communal bathroom in the first place, and there never is any heat problem in there. And to fuck me some more, in addition to the ongoing coughing and hacking, the perps had the operative slam the plastic toilet seat down while a simutaneous zap was added to give me a jolt. There are no end of games with operatives or shills playing with plastic bags in my proximity, and this is only a variant of their usual games.

This is a classic story intended for any Canadian whistleblowers who are thinking about going public. This is what we do to our Olympic champions even if they cross this line. The story is that of Myriam Bedard who got herself a two week jail stay over Christmas, and by her account, the US authorities delayed their timing to do exactly that.

In 2004 she broke the story of some of the goings on in the "Sponsorship Scandal", a squalid game of giving Quebecers public money to derail their autonomous notions for French speaking Quebec. It went all the way to then Prime Minister's office, and was found out only after he had left office, and plagued the incoming Prime Minister, Paul Martin as well. Enough said of that dubious story, but Myriam Bedard's travails have all the trappings of what the perps pull off if one is in their sights. And as a whistleblower, she is fair game for perp stunts. One of their favorite timings of their games is to crap upon a party or festivity. In this case, she was in jail over the Christmas holidays, accused of abducting her own daughter when she was on a mission to talk to officials at the UN about what has happened to her in a supposed democratic country for whistleblowing over the political money wasting stunts. Call me sometime Myriam, and I can tell you about all the noisestalking activity that went on while I wrote this piece up.

To augment a recent blog posting, there is another link on the unification of electricity, magnetism and gravity by James Clerk Maxwell in 1865 written by Tom Bearden. If there is anyone who can put this into simpler terms for a learning disabled person (me), I would be much obliged. I get 1000 minutes a month of calling on my current phone plan, and I can learn this when the vocabulary and concepts are "simplified". (Not meaning dummified or bozofied, but in simpler and smaller steps). But what Bearden says is quite astonishing and suggests that present electromagnetic theory has dropped gravity from the unified
coherent theory of Maxwell's:
After Maxwell's death a single man - Oliver Heaviside - directly altered Maxwell's equations, eliminating localized electrogravitation and producing the form of the theory taught throughout the West today as "Maxwell's theory."
And as a harassment victim who experiences many hundreds of gravitational games in any given day, it is interesting to note that the perpetrators like me to have proximate to magnetic and electric devices me for specific durations.

There is more on the
hyperdimensional physics that is related to Maxwell's complete work at this link, and is more readable than Bearden's treatise, not intending any slight. But what this article states is that under Maxwell's full quaternion (a mathmatical form using complex numbers) based theory, electromagnetic control of gravity is defined.

More panicked operative stomping and shared heat vent noises as the above paragraph was linked and select/copy/pasted. I never quite know what sets off the gangstalking and noisestalking flurries but am assured of the importance when the masers start flipping about in my vision.

A toilet seat slamming and a coincident zapping again; the perps just love that combination as much as fucking hate it, and who are they to be doing this to me?

Another coughing jag erupts nearby as I go over the financial numbers of the last three months in Quicken. Then they mindfuck me into curtailing the report review and then boot me out of the application and shut it down.

Time to blog off for the day; enough science has been done (above) and the mysteries stirred some, though I am not counting on any angels to decode Bearden's work for me as this is the typical constraint under which I operate. No informational input except that permitted.

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