Wednesday, February 28, 2007

More Perp Excitement

I never get too excited about what color my garments are, but the perps devote incredible effort to this, and it is a once-per-week yellow shirt day. They go ape shit over this color, and don't seem to yet understand all its energetic effects on me. And as it was laundry day, another obesssion of theirs, the excitement of these sickos is likely to be at a synergestic level.

They flew my jacket pocket contents onto the floor at the laundromat, my Rx that I picked up while the laundry was in the washing machine, and put on a parade of freaks for me to witness. And they packed the sidewalks with ambulatory gangstalkers who arranged themselves in file ahead of me, and each walked the same pace, effectively behaving like vehicular gangstalker train. Then an leatherjacketed fucker would past in between them, crossing the width of the sidewalk.

And they put on at least three teleportations, where some individual would come from nowhere and insert himself in the ambulatory gangstalker train. All I have to do is turn my head, and another gangstalker or two will suddenly appear from nowhere some 20 to 50' distant.

This was at 0930h when I went to the laundromat, and I have never seen so many people/gangstalkers on the street at this time. As mentioned before, they are getting less cautious about keeping their cover story intact.

And I got extra "care and attention" from the Asian proprietor who "made sure" the plastic tickets one buys to start the washing machines in fact worked. What that amounted to was a gangstalk of the very washing machines I was going to use, plus esposing the water that spilled into the tub before I could get the laundry in. As my brother is owns a commercial laundry service, why don't the perp assholes go fuck him and buzz around his operation instead of my once-per-week event of visiting a laundromat? I have said this many times; the perps' problem with the energetics of fabric, detergent and clothes is NOT MY PROBLEM, so why am I being harassed over this?

And the visiting gangstalkers/operatives made sure to linger longer in the laundromat where I was sitting on the chairs reading the tired magazines. They had cell phone calls, some extra wait time to "get the laundry ready", complicated requirements, and their laundry couldn't be conveniently located at first. All to keep the talking going, and have the gangstalking fucker hang around for longer. Then I got the same color dressed gangstalker as myself "happening" to enter the laundromat as I was about to exit, with one exception, this one was wearing shorts on a cold day. More freaks in this nonstop freak show, and me, ignorant of the script, at center stage.

And more syntax fuckery as I write this, and then excessive typos when I attempt to repair it. Time to take a break from blogging here.

The glass bashing act has also started up and likes to be deployed at the very instant I am repairing the myriad typos (created by mind fucking) and depressing a given key of the keyboard. And now a series of fake burpings to follow on the internal head and mouth noises that constantly go on, and are at the level of not even noticing them. There is no attributable cause to these noises and they have never occured before, until the sickos outed their formerly covert operation and made this venality apparent to me. Now the key jingling noise has erupted outside my door.

Another juvenile game of the perps is to shutdown this display at the instant I am going to click on the mouse and retrieve a new web page. This is the same as in the recent past, where the fridge puts on a coincident click as if it were also affected, which is not true, as everything in this room runs off the one circuit. It is about a second or two of blank screen time. I wonder what the assholes get out of this?

The usual plethora of masers and plasma beams about, and ditto when I was at the the laundromat this morning. More typo sabotage.

More momentary "blackouts" of my LCD display with coincident fridge clicking at the very moment I was to click on a dialog box. The transitory faux power failure stunt, now playing over 4x per day. The games of the small minds that continue to make this hell on earth.

And now, smell jamming, likely as part of the run-up to the above mentioned "power failure". And of course they have me vocalize over it, as that is an important part of the harassment as is pissing me off. There are also clicks coming from nowhere, continually, usually in a series for 10 minutes or so, then it stops. At this very moment the perps are going silly with their masers flitting about in my field of view; the fuzzy black balls and the filamentous trails, usually in a vertical orientation.

And the perps make sure I get a good look at chubby girls, going back to this morning's visit to the LD store. There is a particular one for each of the two stores I habituate; each of these are getting some "exposure"/gangstalk time at each visitation at the respective store's checkouts, though I don't know why. My theory is each is a morph-over of someone I know from the past. I won't speculate as to who it is from my story, though I have a notion, and it is only that. But the perps like to run this person's image in mind at least 10x per day of visit, and I can assure you, I never normally (Before Overt Harassment, 04-2002) considered the appearance of any cashier after I left the grocery store unless she was truly exceptionally good looking,- a rarity. So someone must be pumping them into mind, which I know they can do, either as an image, or as conceptual recall, and often both.

And going by the noise flurry that has erupted while I crafted the above paragraph in reference to two specific chubby checkout girls, there must be some mileage in it for the perps to keep this noise act up and for them to be expecting some kind of discovery outcome. So I better quit while I am ahead and cease blogging for the time being.

More perp games; sending me out for a piss and then changing the natural light conditions while I was out. And for that, I get the glass bottle bashing noise and vibration form outside which is unusual.

And an cut and paste attempt that got foiled by overt control of this display, but while I was busy at it, the assholes kept up the noise flurries, and even zoned me out in recalling a word I was to type in order to separate my action of recall and keying it in with a voice-over noise from the hallway. The operative specifically came downstairs to do just that, and then buggered off.

And more vehicle horn beepings; a one time short beep, unlike real horn use. There are at least 40 per day in this residential and retail mixed neighborhood.

A severe room shaking as I was reading about this man who ran a web site and ended up in an FBI takedown even if there was nothing seditious, hateful or inflamatory. The perps sure do like me to read stories like this, and then start up the noise flurries.

Another noise flurry just as I finished the dishes; they have even brought a heavy duty commercial truck to play games with its air supply and keep releasing small amounts in a loud noise. This same air release noise was scripted for me when I lived in Seattle; at work, there was a large tower going in, and where I lived, a large residential tower. And both were digging the pit, which meant securing the walls with air pressured concrete behind the wall. This irritating racket was kept up at both locations, and it was one I couldn't stand. There was at least 4 months of this at each location.

As part of this, the herd of operatives has been shaking the house and my room, with front door slammings, an a few next door bathroom visitations. As this is the current dusk onset, it is another reason the perps are going silly. That I ate brown colored tortillas is further cause for perp/harassment fuckery.

Some relative quiet after a noise flurry over specific words I use, and any pertaining to the perpetrators. And I learned that my mother was a Government House yesterday morning, the same grounds where I was working outside and pulling out non-native plants. She was inside at some kind of reception, and I was some 150' distant pulling weeds. And I suppose that is a coincidence too? Hardly.

And that does cast a new light on that doddering old fart/gangstalker (Mike Hyde on his name badge, a possible double entendre) who somehow "found us" yesterday, hung around for a while, and then took off, having done nothing of note. And that adds to the likelihood that he was a morph-over of my father, as he would of been the energetic intermediary/gangstalker between my mother (in Government House) and me, at the perimeter of the grounds at the same time. And might be the reason that the old fart was allowed/programmed to break the cover story and called me out by my first name, not knowing who I was (theoretically). And that might be the reason the perps assholes played the thoughts and emotions in my mind that go with my father gangstalking me when I am at his place. There is no fucking reason why I would have this reaction if he was truly a stranger and I wasn't been fucked with (read, planted mind-controlled emotions and reactions). And if my father was full measure for being morphed over and pulling that stunt, it suggests also that his dementia behavior is a total act. Just like I figured all along, since 2002. No wonder my brothers find our father's dementia topic so smirk-worthy.

Curiouser and curiouser it seems, and when is this going to end, as it is approaching five years of this fucking outrage, and I am not allowed to enter into a conversation with anyone over any technical aspect of this sick minded depravity.

I was allowed to have another crap after the above detective work, though I did not get noisestalked during any of it, so I suspect all that was either fed to me, or else I was allowed to engage in some free thinking.

This time, the plunger was allowed to be searched for in advance of unloading, and a moderate load "somehow" choked the toilet for at least two plungings. I was allowed to clean up with only toilet paper, the second of two successive crappings. Small mercies, but as I predicted, it was not an event-free crap again, given the plunging the toilet needed.

I got the usual background noise as well, and it seems that there is more noisestalking than ever; anything and everything is noisestalked, no matter how inconsequential it may be. Even finishing a sentence with a period got me noisestalked with coughing and hacking and the water in the pipes noise.

Time to call it a day, and hopefully get less of the faux coughing that passes for that of the "residents" condition. It is pathetic to have a billion dollar Gestapo organization putting on fake coughing noise while still remaining in the closet pretending they aren't trashing my life.

And somewhat related to that, I notice that any of my email discussions with TI's that get down into specific detail about the perps' predilections as to interests/obsessions in their research/harassment never get answered. One noted the strange behavior of his planted girlfriend over taking an extra pair of underwear to work, another was about cleaning products the perps like to test/expose and yet these threads of commonality aren't getting responded to in my emails (so far). I have some experiences related to these perp games, and neither elicited any comment.

Another designed coincidence I suspect. Time to call this done and blog off.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

An Operative Herd Noisestalking Again

This is the post lunchtime noisestalk period; it is lunch digestion time, and the operatives have been exiting this house in frat house style. They leave every minute or two, tromp loudly in the hallways, slam the front door which "causes" this room to shake. Other noises such as loud mufflers, people speaking, outside vehicle egress and next door bathroom "activity", complement this train of operative action, usually concurrently. And it is usually coincident with web page display, mouse clicking, vision assaults (as I type this), the mouse actions of select. cut and paste, sending email and related PC use.

The same tiresome routine, which seems to be more animated of late, following on from yesterday's high intensity gangstalking.

After the above blogging, the herd noise abated for the most part.

I got the approx. 0400h thoughtstalking again. This utterly consistent association of me being awakened for no reason but to hear overhead floor pounding should I have any thoughts that are not planted at that time. Usually they keep me awake long enough to get some, and may even feed me ideas to contemplate, and the instant my thoughts go off-script, the hammer, or hammer-like pounding of the putative tenant upstairs upon the floor, makes its noise. And last night, they added in some new noise into the nightime mix; at least two operatives serially visited the next door bathroom and flushed the toilet, exited the building and slammed the front door which is ascribed (by the perps, not me) as causing this room to shake. It would seem that the perps are mapping one of their daytime noise events to that used for nightime thoughtstalking. And as I type this, more noise is on/off-ing, and the imposed (mind-controlled) typos are getting out of control.

Before lunch I did my subsidy begetting duties by going to the wildland restoration under the auspices of a day program. It was digging up cyclamen again on the grounds of Government House, that patch that has occupied me and my co-worker for at least three visits of an hour each time. Because it is not a native plant it has to be eradicated from the wildlands area.

Today on the Government House wildland site I got a visitation from a confused elderly duffer that somehow found us, called me by first name, encircled me, and then introduced himself as a volunteer and had a badge to suggest this was in fact the case. He could of been a morph-over for my father; the same build, UK accent, asking dumbshit questions, packing a white plastic bag, making himself to be out of it, doing some ineffectual activity emulation, doing the "what?" act, shook our hands, and then fucked off. Very strange, and no doubt I was being cranked by the perps to have that unwarranted uncomfortable sensation that this was a total plant. It was most strange as he had all the gangstalking and activity replication moves perfected as well as "somehow" knowing my first name and recognizing me from 35' away. He didn't belong to our party which has a clear hammer-lock on strange behaviors, all likely operatives doing the mental deficiency act, one of their favorite cover stories.

And I note that the large parking lot that sits behind Government House was chock full of silver grey, grey, black and deep metallic red vehicles plus Volvos and arranged in places as to uniformity of the vehicle's rear design. They put on five hatchbacks in adjacent stalls, all lined up for me to see the last third of the vehicle, and then moved onto the SUV rear hatchbacks which are larger, but of the same general design. More and more the perps are arranging vehicles from different manufacturers and displaying a portion of the vehicle, usually by masking it with another.

And the perps are also planting ugly colored vehicles in close to me, and place favored colored vehicles aligned with the first one, but further back. They have been doing this with red vehicles, arranging two in file with a gap between them, and filling the gap with another red vehicle, but at least one lane width further away.

And my lastest harassment aid, the street sweeper, had swept half of the parking stalls at Government House, but left the other half uncleaned. That particular maintenance equipment seems to precede or follow me most everywhere I go.

The noise flurries have started up again; this time dropping things on the floor in the next door bathroom. Another new one, and as it was nearly the same noise as that heard from overhead, I am sure there will be more of it.

And the walking route from the day center to the Government House where we undertake the wildlands restoration activity was duly marked with a soft green pastel color on the streets, sidewalk and the centermost 3" of the manhole covers enroute. This is the same green color that "happens" to show up on mylar packaging that is littered along most routes that I now take. It is meant to be the pull strip but strangely, is not used as such. This particular piece of garbage first showed up around my vehicle at the last residence location in 2005, and is now occuring outside my window as well on the street. Invariably, this same color of green also "shows up" on some vehicles that are frequently parked outside my room in the adjacent parking lot.

And now, the glass bottle bashing act has started up, as the perps gave it a rest for two days.

An afternoon of web surfing and troving; with less of the vision impairment hacking of earlier (while blogging the above), and some in-house gangstalking.

This is the dinnertime digestion period, near and dear to the perp's hearts to be noisestalked with overhead pounding, coughing and hacking, tromping in the halllway, outside hollering, outside vehicle noise from the ubiquitous loud mufflers, and now a new one, drumming from the nightclub next door, only heard when the stairway door is left open. There are masers and plasmas like always. And it seems that one of the perps' quests was also met tonight; making, eating and cleaning up during dusk onset, especially with the sodium arc lamp onset over the adjacent parking lot that my window looks out on.

And I noted at Government House today, as in other locations in this city, the outdoor sodium arc lamps were left on in the daylight, a "just-for-me" experience. At my last residence location, they had a sodium arc lamp trained on my apartment 24x7.

I am doing some bookmarking and adding yet more titles to my wish list, and this seems to be a big draw for the perps as their operatives are moving in the hallways, slamming the door (3 per 5 minutes), shaking this room and otherwise going silly on the noise front. In addition, they have installed the male jocularity stunt outside in the parking lot which can be heard from my right side. This last mentioned stunt was vogue over 8 weeks ago, but coming from this putative rooming house, the left side as I type here at this PC. No end of small matters are of huge consequence to this continued depravity, including faux burps as I type this.

The noise flurries continue; there is no intrinsic reason for anyone, let alone a group, to congregate in the evening in a nameless backstreet parking lot, especially where the arrival, departure and parking of vehicles is highly coordinated. And as this "group yap" continues over many nights (as noted in past blogs), and many different groups, I submit that the male jocularity that I still hear is organized as yet another contribution to the current noisescape. That is to say, all noise or other sounds are highly governed in my existence, as to volume, duration, audio frequency, mechanical vibration association, degree of transience and decay, source etc. This has been detailed in an introductory blog,

By way of a fellow Targetted Individual victim, I came across this piece of interesting Gestapo behavior in the UK. This unfortuneate subject, Elena Cook, had done nothing illegal, or in any way deleterious or threatening and ended up with a party of 8 arriving with no warning to take her away to mental hospital. The percieved "crime" was to advocate a contrary view that Lyme Disease is a state (US) sponsored biological warfare agent which is shared by many others outside the established orthodoxy.

Having had similar forced incarceration "happen" to me, though not Lyme Disease thankfully, I found this article a trip down memory lane, except that my "friends" were the ones that set me up for incarceration, something that I hope the fuckers rot in hell for. So yes, both Canada and the UK use the psychiatric hospital system as a means to quash dissent and to park and besmirch individuals they want to silence or punish. It is an utter outrage that this goes on at all, never mind being supported by the police, physicians and other clinical staff all working in concert. The word must of come from on high, and the authorities essentially mugged her.

And I will concur, that providing Risperidol (Risperidone) to non-psychotic patients, or even worse, Attention Deficit Disordered patients (me being one), will sap one's energies and abilities and render one in worse condition than when one went in.

And, if Lyme Disease isn't believable as a state sponsored biowarfare vector inflicted upon the populace, there is Morgellon's Disease which has some interesting parallels to the harassment activity that I mentioned in this blog. Hopefully none of this "exposure" (this blog) will get me hauled away, though I suspect that keeping me confined to an 80 sq. ft. room and shared bathroom facilities serves their purposes better.

And I cribbed this definition from the above website on Elena Cook's story of her detention, as my shrink has me down for the same putative condition;
In psychiatry a delusion is defined as "a false belief, rigidly held, in the face of incontrovertible evidence that the belief is wrong"
As it so happens, my fucking doctor hasn't had the balls to tell me anything about the definition of delusional, and "somehow", I (read mind-controlled me) didn't research it either. Anyhow, I am putting this quote in for myself more than anything, as part of the harassment record.

I also wonder if this ham-fisted effort to slam Elena Cook and make her the poster girl for current UK Gestapo tactics, and thereby add credibility to her arguement over the true cause of Lyme Disease, isn't something also related to mine, and other's, harassment with unconventional energies and mind-control from remote locations. Call her hospital stay "experience replication", and having the toilets blocked and flooding in the hospital seems straight out of the perps playbook and their obsessive investigation into all things related to shit. My toilet time harassment has been documented in these blogs, as well as their related obsession over the color of brown.

Time to call this a post; most of the typos should be cleaned up as well as syntax; I must re-read these blogs at least four times as the perps now can, and do, dither my abilities to detect grammatical, spelling, syntax and logical construction/composition errors, all since 2006.

Monday, February 26, 2007

A Huge Gangstalk Monday

Finally, I am allowed access to my blog on the internet, after being shut out for the afternoon. I have mentioned in past blogs that Mondays, especially following a Sunday night stay at my parents, the assholes that cast me into this hell, are unusually heavily gangstalked. And today was no exception.

My mother nattered on and on at breakfast, and delayed my day's start, while keeping my used dishes in front of me, and eventually around 1015h I was able to free myself and complete my shower and shave. And she "needed me" to help her with the new boxspring and matress, as she had to put a boxspring skirt in between them. This afforded more close-in activity, and where I was supplying the exertion to raise the matress for her to work over top of the box spring. And while I was in the shower, a bright mid blue pair of socks arrived on the dresser that I use to place my belongings in the bedroom I use there, my old one. All this was the setup as I saw it.

And as she needed a quote on the minor damage to the tailgate of her vehicle, and that I knew of a local place that did a good job on my Volvo four years earlier, why, I could drive her there for the quote and then afterward, onto my residence location to drop myself off.

With us both in her vehicle, and me driving, the hordes were all over the roads, including a tractor trailer unit to turn the intersection corner where I was travelling straight through, this is a residential neighborhood. There were strings of 10 or 20 vehicles, all with headlights on, in close formation, and color and vehicle type coordinated. There were a spate of grey range vehicles, from white, silver grey, mid-grey, charcoal grey and black vehicles ordered in a grey scale file, and every so often they tucked a deep metallic red vehicle or a light tan brown vehicle in the cluster. There were also pairs and triplets of deep metallic green vehicles, and the odd blue colored one embedded in the ordered clusters of vehicles.

These came in differing directions; first oncoming, and later ahead of me, and later, crossing my path at the larger intersections. And I got mind-fucked into a convoluted way to get to the auto body shop when I know better, but I wasn't allow access to my own knowledge of the most efficacious route.

To make a long story short, there were simply huge numbers of vehicles in formations everywhere I went, it was constant, and I have never seen so much vehicular traffic on a weekday as this, save the highway routes, which we did not travel on. In the latter part of the journey I noted that there was an injection of more mid-blue vehicles, and people dressed in these colors, or even two tone blue combinations. I reckon that the perps put on over 1,000 vehicles on this gangstalk, which is a large volume when one considers that no highway routes were taken, this was all in town.

Later, after lunch, I walked to the grocery store, some 12 minutes in-town distant, and I got a voluminus amount of street (ambulatory) gangstalkers, and then more volumes of vehicular gangstalkers as I walked. Sometimes they put six white or silver grey vehicles in file in the closest traffic lane and then followed with some more grey vehicles. It was as if there were both north and south bound commute traffic, as well as east and west. I reckon this was about 400 vehicles on the round trip.

While at the grocery store, they put at least two gangstalkers on each location I went to, and even arranged four "staff' in their black and white outfits, to file past me, about every 30 seconds. After this, at the cooler case, they arranged some six pretend shoppers to be all wearing shades of blue around me. And lo, if one of them didn't show up ahead of me at the checkout, also wearing brown pants. Brown being the perps' biggest color problem. Another trait I noticed was that the perps were very big on having someone step in my path, or behind me, often wearing brown, and also having them start up these conversations in the aisles, pretending not to notice that they are blocking egress.

More gangstalkers appeared wearing these brown tradesman pants when I walked back, and another ambulatory gangstalker was pretending not to notice where he was going, and almost walked into me. And the fuckers do anything they can to have their sickos pass me on my right side, as well as walk in my intended track, coming straight at me on the right side of the sidewalk and averting a collision within 10' or so. At least 200 ambulatory gangstalker were on for this show, going to the grocery store and inside it, the busiest I have seen it. And the assholes are becoming more rabid as to getting closer, stacking more gangstalkers "in conversation" at each store location I want to go, and then have them obstruct aisleway access in their oblivous act, of which I get at least 5 per outing to the grocery store. It is fucking absurd that anyone should be hounded like this anywhere, never mind invoking the huge volumes of gangstalkers and vehicles in this depraved charade cum freak show. Why are the perps so fucking sick?

And for that, I got jabbed in the ass while sitting in my chair. And while complaining out loud about it, the overhead pounding and clunking started up. Another amazing coincidence.

So far tonight, two LCD display blackouts with simultaneous fridge clicking, even though everything else on the circuit didn't momentarily lose power. More of the perturbation of activity and whatever the perps are measuring in my neural substrate (brain, in real time).

Relative quiet in the last hour, and not because I had the earmuffs on; they punch through any sound they want I have come to learn only recently. Even more evidential is that if they put a noise through the ear muffs, and I take them off, the "source" noise is even quieter without the earmuffs on, the total reverse of what would be expected.

I notice my mother is reading Adrienne Clarkson's "Heart Matters", her autobiography. This was loaned to me by my ex-wife and was read some three weeks ago when my PC was taken out, with both hard drives "failing" at once. It is a good book, but I was compelled to read it only because there was nothing else to do. It would not be one that I seek out as I don't follow her to any degree, as she is much better known in Ontario. She was Canada's Governor General for 6 years, and by all accounts did a credible job. But seeing that my mother has even less knowledge or interest in the life of Adrienne Clarkson, I cannot understand why she would be reading this book. Is there a connection that the perps are seeking amongst the three of us, or even others I don't know, in reading this book, and possibly with Adrienne Clarkson herself? More of who knows.

The perps let me have a rare unfettered crap today; no plunging the toilet, showering to clean up or hiding the plunger. It is simply stupendous, and might be the second such time since I moved in here since 09-2006. If past is prologue, that will be the end of it, all for another round of shit intervention in all its manifestations.

Enough for a blog; I am running out of time here, and am calling this done.

Sunday, February 25, 2007


I have my overhead floor knocking and squeaking action again; anything I think begets a noise from above. This is a continutation of last night where the perps woke me up in usual fashion for a round of this. Related to this is anytime I see/read a familiar celebrity or politician name, the overhead noise also erupts. And it can also be the content; topics related to strife, wars, disasters, death, mayhem and the like also get the overhead commotion momentarily.

I heard the City streetsweeper outside earlier; this is a Sunday, and they never do this routine activity when the workers get double overtime. And it was out yesterday on my walking route to the drugstore. It is simply amazing how often this rarely seen specialized city maintenance vehicle sweeps the streets in my proximity. This includes other walking paths, the route to Government House on my wildlands restoration activity.

The endless jerking around over anti-virus software and the browser capability continues; my Firefox updates are getting stopped by the firewall when they were never before. And it seems, is an excuse to pop dialog boxes up on an as-needed basis, as this little game has been going on for years. Sometimes the perps crash the browser altogether just to get a dialog box up that is sitting over the insipid Windows desktop that I never use. This time they have a better cover story with the added bonus of red, green and yellow bordered dialog boxes, the reason why the PC tech loaded this software suite on my PC in 09-2006 after I got the new motherboard, memory and CPU. It is not a big deal, but the ever changing functionality is getting to be a piss-off, now that I discovered that the updates to Firefox are not downloading. Last week's computer hassle was all about getting the ISP's instant messenger loaded, and it was never solved, even with the firewall temporarily disabled.

A trip to the First Feral Family. i.e. the parents cum assholes who cast me into this nightmare, who then never told me about the documented (in 1960) learning disabilities that were incurred, and who carried on as if I didn't have any, which came with abusive measures. And about age 45 or so, I figured it out with the help of my school records. Strange that I visit them and that in itself is a tribute to mind-control.

Enough rants, past readers have heard all about it, and time to blog off early.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

Rapid Daylight Fluctuations with Street Whistling

Currently, the sunlight level is fluctuating radically, sometimes within the minute; in all my visits to other countries noted for changeable weather, I have never seen anything like this before.

Earlier, there was the no-rain walk to the store, and the rained upon walk back stunt, about the 20th time in five years of harassment the sickos have pulled this one. Changing the weather while in the store from dry to wet, usually in that order. Weather engineering is doable and is commercially availible and was mentioned in this blog posting.

The perps had me in a 15 minute wait for my prescription to be submitted, and stacked the lineup area with three just-sitting-there shills who didn't have any particular business being there. One might have been my mother in morph-over as she had the same habit and countenance as she does in these gangstalking situations. And a scarlet red hat, one my mother has or had. The other fucker gangstalking me from the seating arrangement was in brown and light brown and with a child also wearing some brown. The Rx pharmacist was Asian, possibly another instance of the managed brown color, that being his skin color. There was an East Indian (more brown color for the perps) two people ahead of me, and a yellow coated gangstalker behind me who made sure to come up the aisle I was facing for a in-lineup distance dependent gangstalk before hanging around me, with obvious vibrational energy emanations.

The Rx lineup area also had a seen-before shill or operative, and I wasn't allowed to recall any more details than that. Before last year, when they learned how to fuck my recall, I never ever forgot a face and the circumstances associated with it, especially the fucking sick-minded gangstalkers. It was my form of protection that the perps now routinely fuck with.

As usual, there were a horde, some 20 or so, of shiftless assholes on pretend shopping duty circulating around me, up to 20' away. Back and forth, and then again, walk in one direction but look in another, never shopping, save the open-mouthed gangstalker in red. Some arrived from behind the aisle, possibly a teleportation arrival as I never saw the fucker arrive at this cul-de-sac area in the store. No in-store spittings today, another method of revealing the energetic contents of their mouths in my proximity. But there was lip licking, and that body area has a huge perp obsession to the extent that cattle and human mutilations are usually stripped of lip tissue. Not my problem, why am I being fucked over for it?

Another as usual event was the plasma and masers flitting about the store and the pharmacy waiting area. Typically these flit parallel to surfaces and edges, but I noticed today they also offset the plasma beams to make them more visible, which is what they do all the time while working on keyboarding blogs, like right now.

This is the post tea and chocolate time, always of interest to the perps as they get another opportunity to solve their brown color problem.

Another oddity on the way to the gangstalk at the drugstore earlier was a woman dressed for exercise, running toward me and carrying a pair of white runners with red laces in one hand, and a plastic bottle with orange juice in the other. I have never ever seen a fitness runner so absurdly encumbered in all my life. And the big question about the footwear is; were those the same pair that were dangling from the power lines two blocks away upon my return from the doctor's visit, 02-22-2007? The answer is I don't know for sure, but there is a lot of similarity between the two sets of runners. And by the way, these runners were too big for this girl's feet, so whose were they? When I next take the route where the pair were stranded on the telephone line I will have a look to see if it is the same pair, but all indications of color of runner and laces match. Or course they could of been "borrowed" for the few seconds of display time today and will be replaced for yet another pass-by some weeks hence.

More of the bizarre bullshit that goes on all day. Another four deep metallic red sedans were in formation today on a major artery into downtown, this time a diamond like formation spanning two lanes, and the gap between one lane pair was the area that the lane behind vehicle was arranged. Another distance dependent game with colors and vehicles.

More games; there was a file that I downloaded and the extension was lopped off and was not displayed in that wretched file manager, Windows Explorer. And the search "couldn't find it", even if correctly copy/pasted from the download posting on the web. The most basic of PC operating systems and functions are fucked with.

I read the Saturday Globe and Mail earlier today. There was hardly a page that went by or an article or name that I read that wasn't noisestalked typically from the overhead floorboard squeaking noise. And reading the newspaper is a big game to get various colors and text blocks to be placed close to me. Another perp interest is the fold in the center of the page which becomes an harassment game as it is higher than normal and leaves a deeper shadow than if the perps weren't playing plasma games with the lighting. And true to form, as I attempt to read the text over top and down the fold hump, some noise starts up at that instant to noisestalk my ability to interpret what to read. It is fucking sick and absurd to be under the surveillance microscope for reading a newspaper.

Some relative quiet over the past hour, save the trance-like noise of the PC "vibration" that "happened" when two hard drives were replaced. No wonder the silent case models I wanted to buy 09-2006 (Antec P180, Nexus Breeze) when the motherboard was replaced were "unavailible".And as "I" yawned, the overhead squeaking noise started up for the duration of the yawn.

I am getting some leg jabbings that are placed on the back of my thigh, which is on the chair I am sitting on. This was is concert with some egress of "residents" and squeaky front door noise, another sound from its extensible repetoire.

I got a simultaneous leg and gut zapping that caused me to jump. I forget what I was reading at that instant, but someone had this planned out, along with me swearing at the assholes.

More select/cut/paste sabotage in fucking the action of selection with the mouse. Five fucking years of pissing with this PC function and the sick assholes are still on my back. Why are the perps so fucking depraved?

Another confluence of noise; the faked coughing and hacking with the overhead squeaking noise. This was coincident with reading about a film titled "Lost Embrace" and there would be a link to IMDB but the assholes sabotaged the selected words seven times in succession. And I noted that I was unable to spell the city name of "Buenos Aries", (ciy in which the movie take place) which leads me to think that the perps must of remapped my spelling capabilities last year, when spelling anything became a problem.

After Thursday's (02-22-2007) double inflicted small wounds on my left thumb, I was allowed to discover the bandaids today, after the notion had been planted that I didn't have any on hand. As I have few belongings little here, there is no way I would of forgotten them without some help from the perp assholes. It seems that the brown color of the bandaids must be interfering with the red color energy readings the perps are making. Hence, this last cut hand round was stemmed with a steptic pencil and white paper towel. And I noticed more brown vehicles parked behind deep metallic red vehicles today, both parked and mobile gangstalking.

And they also created a wound on my left ear in the night, one that is healed over with a scab and somehow didn't bleed all over in the night. At present, I have this and the above left thumb wounds from two days ago, so no doubt the perps will get a simultaneous red (scab) reading off me from two significantly different body locations.

And there have been many more of the "animated dust" placements in front of me; some kind of very white "dust" arrives in front of me and slowly spins its way down me, serving as some kind of localized white color reference. On occasion, these "dust eruptions" have defied gravity and started from my chest area and travelled upward. One of the downward falling dust eruptions arrived when I was in line at the Rx pharmacy earlier today, presumably as a reference to gauge the colors of the other nearby gangstalkers.

I made an attempt to listen to Erin McKeown on a NPR and my Real Player is now fucked; I cannot hear any music even if it is playing, as per the timer count. And is it any surprise that there is intense governing of what music I am allowed and the duration and amount? No, because 3 CD players have "broken down" in the past two years, all within a week of each other, including my ever reliable NAD deck. Other games have been to dither the music signal itself so it sounds horrible, and third stunt has been to knock out one of the channels on the headphones, two pairs of them having the same "problem". The last remaining pair of lightweight and so-so headphones have been allowed to work, but now it is turn for the source to be malfunctioning, either the PC or Real Player. It never ends.

And this was all determined with my remaining working headphones on, and they were being clicked and flexed by remote means in concert with web page changes. I have a notion that this will be the end of the PC Real Player and any hope for music for a while. The perps did let me have a week of listening to Happy Rhodes before Christmas, and then "I" didn't feel like listening for awhile, and now this.

A group of girls has arrived outside my window in the adjacent parking lot. Not that I can see them, but it seems I meant to hear them exclaim and emote. This would be a right side auditory input, which might explain why this supposed rooming house has been so quiet tonight (left side). And while this is occuring, I had been reading Sherman Skolnick's Report. And as I put the link in, the glass bottle bashing act has erupted in the hallway, as it is too loud to be heard through walls. (And I was forced to link it twice because of some errant behavior of this editor.)

The perps do love me to read about conspiracies and skullduggery, which includes espionage and other games.

There is enough here to call this a posting for today; nothing too exciting to be sure, and the same for tommorrow I suspect.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Pounding Overhead Again

The overhead pounding noise started up in the night again, as I had been awakened to hear it. Any unbidden or uncontrolled thoughts were immediately met with the clunking noise. After I yelled at the assholes the noises reverted to dropping objects that bounce (like marbles) and leave a decaying trail-off of noise, as if the above floor surface had been changed to promote that particular noise. And for at least the third day in succession, the overhead clunking has arrived about 30 minutes after my first logon session of the day, which follows breakfast and my morning dental hygeine routine.

The sunshine, or appropriately, natural lighting games are going on with gusto; an amazingly fast variation in sunlight and cloud cover is happening as I type this and the above paragraph, and it maybe related that I journaled the above description in my handwritten journal, and this is a repeat. The coughing and hacking has been moderate this morning, and not the usual serial parade of operatives egressing this building today. (So far).

Tongue pinching is a new harassment development this week; it "happens" when I am utlizing the rubber tipped GUM probe in my mouth, and has never happened before in all the decades of this routine. It is a small but ongoing pinching that is "attributed" to the rubber tipped device, and for whoever is watching over the perps, that is good enough. It is another case of who are they fooling as they make it quite plain that they don't need to bother with decieving me, at least for this stunt.

A coughing onset burst started outside my door in the hallway; it wouldn't be so bad if the operative had a genuine condition, but is its so contrived that my annoyance factor is immediately stoked. Probably the game plan as it is so consistent.

A now-rare round of male jocularity has erupted; it was a daily staple for a few months and then dropped off as long time readers might note. The masers and plasma games have also started up in concert with this latest round of noisestalking in the orchestrated noisescape. Another tiresome day of the same activity while the game of pretend continues.

Yesterday's explanation to the doctor about the amazing coincidence of noisestalking in the night while being awakened just to hear it at odd hours didn't seem to register as an unusual coincidence. It was deemed as an opportunity to again offer me a medication that does nothing but make me worse, in 2 of 2 attempts. It is a continuing saga of ignoring compelling and consistent information all to jerk me around some more while serving another party's interests ahead of mine. And more likely, it is face time with an Asian, something that they have long injected into my circumstances, even before the assholes sucked me into overt harassment. Not that I have any complaint about Asians, it is just that there is a concerted effort to judiciously place them, along with other demographics, into my circumstances as part of the harassment spectrum. And as noted in other blog postings, it is very likely part of the perp's brown color problem that they created for themselves owing to past fuckery and depravity in my developmental years.

The operative herd is on the move; they are successively populating the bathroom that is next to my room, flushing the toilet (not having used it) and then departing by slamming the door which in turn, serves as the excuse to shake my room. This is the post lunch digestion period, and a predictable time for them to be on the move. Like a frat house, which is also a metaphor for the collective maturity of the assholes evidenced by their stunts that have been going on for 5 years nearly.

I went to Qi Gong earlier on the same walking route as yesterday; it is my communal gangstalk with my operatives, and this time the action started in the elevator, with two other passengers and it began closing with a beeper going off in a unstoppable progression, and just at the last moment, another operative slipped through the closing doors. This is the third time in the last year of this amazing timing of slipping through the doors as they are closing, and somehow not set them off to open again. More never-befores. Said operative made a big deal out of getting out first, on the wrong floor, and then backing in to me as he "figured it out".

Thankfully the Qi Gong class is only a half hour; there were plentiful plasma toroids projecting off the circular fittings on the wall, a ventilation plate and a sensor looking device of some kind. Nice nested concentric circles, growing toroids displaced from the actual source, and conveniently behind the instructor. There were other straight beams flitting about and the odd maser coming directly at me from the floor. And everyone else plays pretend, as if they weren't there. It is a class of 15 to 20, and most of them are regulars, or at least as I know them. I got the various color exposures, and the dude beside me just happened to have the same colored sweater as the jacket I wore on the street, placed aside for Qi Gong. It would seem, based on past experience, he was some kind of reference for that color, as I would have still been "glowing" the olive drab color from wearing my coat. Or, at least, that is my theory based on observations, as they like to emulate colors of clothing that I have on, or just took off me. Similarly, as a passenger in automobiles; they like to keep the doors and trunk open as I pass by parked vehicles, and very often the driver or passenger is loitering about, feigning to retrieve something from the vehicle.

Overhead clunking has arrived for the first time this afternoon and is coincident with me reading about the despicable Jose Padilla case in the US where he has been detached from his environment by way of sensory deprivations for 3.5 years and is no longer in a fit state to aid his defence. This is another story of illegal incarceration and possible torture that has gone on for too long and also has all the makings of being an "accidently on purpose" stunt, possibly to serve some higher objective that us mortals are unaware of. It fits the pattern, that being the Guantanamo Bay prisoners, and the so-called rendition incarceration and torture on the road. In my world, I don't call three near identical events at the hands of one perpetrator, in this case, the US Government under Pres. G. W. Bush, a coincidence. There is a pattern here, and apart from creating duress for the subjects, and possible color clothing energetics assay games, also mentioned in past blogs, I don't know why the US Government has taken this repressive turn. What I do know is that I routinely get rounds of noise flurries/noisestalking whenever I read about this subject matter, the overhead clunking being but one example. Call it perp stalking bait for now.

After I take a piss and come back to this blog, what happens? Why the perps have darkened down a corner of this LCD display just to piss me off. The masers and plasma activity is extra energetic upon my return, which includes the presence of the fuzzy ball masers in a matched formation pair, travelling in a vertical zig zag toward me. Such is my life.

Another zapping coincident with an overhead clunking, one designed to piss me off enough to yell at the assholes. It was as if a large marble was dropped immediately overhead. And what was the coincident event, always a tip-off as to what the assholes are up to? I was reading about a tactical nuclear warhead weapon of the 1960's called the Davy Crockett. Not that I follow this topic often, but when I do, I have a band of sick assholes playing games who lack to gumption to show up and explain themselves. What a way to run a billion dollar per year (my estimate) operation, by harassing innocent citizens while hiding in a closet. Fucking sick.

The tea with chocolate time is done and my visual field has a variety of masers in it, both the filamentous (aka "trails") kind and the fuzzy black balls travelling in formation. Sometimes bright point sources of light appear to dither my reading on this LCD display. And some sudden shadow flashes across the room as I repair a typos of the same letter in two places.

I saw a weirder than normal-weird circumstance today on my Qi Gong journey. A single file of traffic crossed at the light in front of me, and there were six vehicles in file, all silver-grey or white (very similar grey scale tones) and they all had the near identical front to them, even if not the same models or manufacturers. There were SUV's, minivans and sedans, and all had the same hood profile and same rake angle of windshield and hood. It was at least the second instance of a long file of same or similar grey scale vehicles passing by. Earlier, when heading to Qi Gong, at an well travelled intersection, there was seven white or silver grey vehicles in file, all in the right lane which was closest to me, and at that point I had just turned a 35 degree turn (non orthogonal intersection), I was walking over the new section of concrete the assholes laid down last week (noise then), and a blonde woman in a brown suit was walking toward me, within 6'.

She wasn't the only blonde woman dressed in brown; there were at least four more brown dressed women on my homebound leg. One who lingered at a bus stop, and then decided to walk ahead of me and was impossible to catch up to, and lo, if the bus didn't arrive at the next stop just as she was nearing it, and somehow that driver knew to stop and she got on.

The next stop was a certain pharmacy store with a respectable food section, and since I was out of chocolate, and since I am constantly mind-fucked into "needing it", the communal "I" headed to that direction to get some as it is European chocolate for $1.00g, a good deal. And amazingly, there was a woman outside with one of the drug store's shopping baskets which are never taken outside, and she was standing there outside with her many purchases, looking at something in her hand. That was absurd enough, and lo, if she hadn't returned and was stationed at the checkout in "serious" discussion with the cashier, for whom I was waiting. Anyhow, this absurd act finally got it together and took off again with the shopping basket, allowing me to be next. Meanwhile, all the in-store gangstalkers assembled around me while I waited, and in particular, the whiney kid act, and the mother with the shopping cart with a substantial brown box inside it. (The metal and wood/brown combination is very commonly arranged around me).

Then other brown dressed women joined the gangstalk fray; one paralleling me on the other side of the street, then later, one from a side street who timed herself and the large stroller to be getting in front of me, rudely it seemed. I finally walked past her, she of a fast pace even with the stroller. Later, a fourth brown coated gangstalker was ahead of me, then crossed the street and paralleled me. It isn't anywhere normal to encounter so many pedestrians on this route, never mind the color combinations.

Another round of over-faked coughing and hacking from the never-get-better corps. At least the coughers at Qi Gong get better, and spread the coughing load around to other operatives.

Extra augmented lock clatter noise with a coincident zapping, and then the asshole on lock noise walks past my closed door and into the bathroom next to me for a do-nothing toilet flush and a gangstalking (standing there I assume).

The zapping is still the perp's big play, and it is pissing me off as there is some kind of extra impact of an inconsequential noise. And the coicident factor was deleting a website from my Bookmarks, at that exact moment of the mouse click.

The assholes also zap me when I get my haircut. When the stylist's shears or comb touch my head there is some kind of added visceral zapped sensation, even if the noise wasn't much. It is fucking sick and depraved to target anyone with electomagnetic, or other, energies for any reason, especially when they have done absolutely nothing to incurr such vile treatment.

Some relative quiet has descended once the post dinner serial sucession of operatives in the next door bathroom ceased along with the the commensurate front door slamming and room shaking. And suddenly, while reading about Michel Caine (I had read his autobiography when my PC was taken out three weeks ago), the perps pull a sudden overhead clunking with me again yelling at the assholes to end this depravity of noise and/or thoughtstalking. There is no peace over the most seeming benign activities and subjects. It is another example of life under the microscope in this Feckless New World I have been dumped into.

A firework went off at the very moment I moved my feet forward and it came with a coincident zapping, a faked reaction to the bang. And the perps cut me in on seeing the trail of sparkling and the small burst of light. One Halloween night per year isn't enough it seems.

And in that vein, the perps have upped the ante on a current annoyance, and that is stroboscoping me with light while outside in the daylight. Their game was to do this where a tree's branches cast shadows upon me, in the wintertime mostly, and the shadow effect was co-opted and conveyed as an annoying stroboscopic assault. I could usually counter this by moving my head away from the light, and temporarily acting like a perp and walking one direction and looking in another. But yesterday and today, the assholes did not bother with the cover story of "tree branch shadow" for the choppy lighting effect, and launched the stroboscopic assault when and where they wanted to.

The plasma games are also getting silly; anytime I get back from an outing, the hallway in this supposed rooming house is chock full of plasma, like a thick fog which limits the visibility. When I got back from yoga yesterday they were placing red ovoid spots in front of me, and over my white fridge top where they could be seen directly. It was annoying, and they have done worse with this particular harassment method, but it always raises the question; why are they pretending to fool someone by extensive cover story development, and then at other times so utterly blatant, albeit infrequently? That, I cannot answer.

More forced coughing of me this time, and about the same time some whistling started up in the adjacent parking lot. More strange coincidences especially when I don't have a cold.

The day is nearly done, and enough has been transpired to call this a posting.

This is chocolate and tea digestion time, and it got the noisestalking honor of been given the glass bottle bashing noise, that is still going on, now over a minute or so of a putative resident who collects bottles from the trash for their return value. The fact that he can collect so many in a day, and bashes the bottles at anytime of the day or night, blows his cover. And, the crockery bashing that also erupts in the next door bathroom, suggests that the perps are able to use the noise vibrations in some kind of analytical way.

Ditto on account of the noisy motorcycle noise that also fired up, these too are a all-day ingredient in the noise mix that follows me everywhere I go. At the last residence the perps even arranged a recycling depot nearby, and it continues to bash the glass bottles all the time when I am shopping in its proximity. These assholes are years ahead of figuring out what to do next. Very little is serendiptitous.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

A Two Outing Day

Two outings in one day is a big deal for the perps as they often script no events for shut-in days and have me suffer from (or create) cabin fever by the next day.

It was yoga at 1130h and a doctor's appointment at 1430h. The yoga went well, the main harassment events were plasma beams all over the place, some masers, wobbling me when balanced on one foot, and the litany of gangstalk action that I can see outside, through the windows. In the last-mentioned case, there was the usual parade of men mostly, with some vehicular action and sirens going off once the window was opened. A red dressed person retrieving items from a red vehicles's trunk was one such orchestrated feint.

The instructor's bright red hair has been toned down some I noticed, quite possibly for perp reasons as they frequently plant red haired shills or operatives around me, and have been doing this since high school, though I did not know it to be orchestrated then. Another of those not-my-problem situations that I am forced to participate in. Not that I have anything personal about redheads, it is not my favorite hair color and I have no reason why. It could be related to the perp's traumatizations in early development years, or it could well be one of the created aversions their irradiations (of my brain) created at that time. In a past blog I mentioned there was a red hair aversive Asian woman I had read about in a memoir, and so it is likely there are some specific brain energies and/or locations where that particular phobia is retained.

After lunch I set off to the doctor's appointment by walking there, a 25 minute city street walk each way. At one juncture, there were three gangstalking parties up to 100' ahead of me, and each was wearing green, as was I. My jacket is olive drab, and there was a woman with a brighter olive green jacket ahead of me, then a woman with a near olive drab backpack, and beyond them, a party of two, one in olive drab and the other in a aqua green.

As I walked beside a main traffic artery there was 300 to 500 gangstalking vehicles arranged and coordinated on my walk as if a near permanent rush hour was in progress,- not this city. The perps went nuts on red again, packing four deep red colored vehicles together with a cyclist in front of them, wearing a red helmet at one location.

When I returned on the same route, they arranged for the first three gangstalk parties to be wearing shades of green, more grass green this time, and not the olive green variants to my outbound journey leg.

I had my glass bottle basher enroute as well; the vagrant with shopping cart and loads of plastic bags act again, this time with some "finds" to serve as the glass to bash together as I approached this vagrant act. The perps must keep the same props somewhere, and trot out different vagrants, as some have been women even.

As this is the post-dinner digestion period and the dusk onset time, both being drivers in being noisestalked, masered and plasma-ed; this is a double-up harassment time. The lead footed hallway walkers with jingling keys are making pass-bys, slamming the front door and shaking this room as a putative cause, and then there are outside vehicles brakes squeaking, loud mufflers resonating and other noises. Now the smell jamming into my nose has begun, and the assholes don't like it much when I blow out the smell as they come back with another snort for me.

Today's doctors' appointment wasn't the usual frisson, he was actually calm instead of baiting me in his setup games, though as usual, he had nothing to say to the agglomeration of red and white vehicles around me, the most inexplicable event being some six of each color at one intersection, and then again at the same intersection the next day.

The doctor's waiting room act is typically a perp stunt center, and sure enough, four gangstalkers came in around me shortly after I arrived, one to show off his vile yellow jacket. And there is also a parade of putative staff backing and forthing beyond the waiting area, and one who came, then departed for a back and forth inside of a few minutes (normal), but then somehow arrived again within a few minutes as he was exiting for the second time. He must of been on a teleport job as I cannot see how he would of got back so fast by an alternate route.

When I was walking home, the perps got into their shoe fetish by launching a pair of runners fixed together by their shoelaces onto the overhead powerlines. I always wondered when I saw this in the past as to who would be so idiotic to do that and for what purpose, especially if the runners are in good condition. Now that I know I have an army of arrangers around me all the time, it makes sense, especially when they have a fascination with shoes. Operatives and shills often look at their footwear soles in public, my shoes get unconventionally trashed to neccessitate more visits to the cobbler, the perps place their feet up on railings if availible and a whole host of games that go with configuring shoes in my proximity.

Perhaps Imelda Marcos and her 800 pairs of shoes had a hidden hand in feeding this fetish that she could afford to indulge in.

Relative quiet at last, the vibrating PC noise excepted, one of the add-ons when it was out for repair three weeks ago. This is not unusual, especially for the PC. One time it went in and when it came back there was a 3" long 1/8" vertical groove routed down the center under the on button. It was cut into the plastic front/fascia but not through as there was a sub-millimeter remaining bridge in the bottom of the groove. About a year later, when it was taken in again, the groove was cut through, leaving an open slot. Additionally, there were at least two LED lights installed, one red and the other green. I didn't have them before, and I still didn't know why they were put in. Then last year when the PC was in for a new motherboard, the perps filled the slot with a transparent plastic to reveal the colors of the LED lights they arranged behind the plastic facia. This represents over two years of progressive pissing with the plastic fascia of the PC, and no wonder they didn't want me to order a new case when the PC was rebuilt last September (2006), as it is the only original part now.

A siren cascade has been put on for me to hear; and they added in one of their absurdities. This is a 1960's siren sound, sandwiched between the current day siren noise. Plus they constantly put on a diesel engined vehicle noise into the mix. There just maybe some early childhood recall/association of that characteristic siren sound; I would of been 6 to 15 years old then. Every two months or so they add this characteristic noise.

The water dripping noise torture has started up again; this is the purported sink, where "somehow" a trickle of water supply then creates these electronic like loud dripping noise, as if I was stuck at the bottom of a deep well. This little stunt began about a month ago and comes and goes as to the degree of annoyance.

Another affronting stunt has been the arrival of various (foreign) colored crumbs that could not of developed from anything I have or did. And they can show up in the strangest of places; behind my ear, under my seat, on my coffee pot (coffee inside the vessel), and even on surfaces that I am not using at the time. One crumb this morning was mysterious enough that I picked it up with a paper towel and disposed of both in the garbage. I didn't want to know.

More shower-stalking in the next door bathroom; this is at least the third one this evening, and like the last one, it follows when I am reading some interesting story/article that is text only, and no visual web images. Curiously, anytime tonight that I use the vertical scroll to fast, the text "melts" into a blurr, unlike anything I have seen before in Windows.

Another stunt that is playing out tonight is for the perps to suck the blackness and line width consistency from the text that is on my LCD display. This game has reached more frequent levels of late, and is on par with reducing text size as well. There is a "leached out" look to all text that they somehow create, usually in mid-session on the PC. I have no idea what they are doing or what the objective is.

I got my hand whacked at lunchtime earlier today. Nothing visible contacted my hand, though I had the cheese slicer in motion and then there sensation on my left hand without the slicer causing it. I have been through one of these before in the same circumstances; the perps invoke a cut to my hand, my left thumb actually, and then go on to keep it bleeding for a while longer. And this "cut" took at least six weeks for the redness to disappear, and I am sure that was out the the goodness of their sick hearts as they do like me to have red spots on my skin.

But this time, it was two cuts 1/4" apart in two styles; one a direct puncture and the other a scrape revealing a subdermal layer which then bled. And of course I had no bandaids by dint of forward perp planning, and the steptic pencil also "became" problematic in stemming the flow for a time. And since I was needing a new roll of paper towel, why not have me stem the flow with an towel from the old roll (brown center (core) cylinder visible through last paper towel, note), and then again with the new roll? This would be a way to measure the "browness" glow that came off each of the two rolls of paper towel from the cardboard center cylinder against my blood (color).

The perps spend no end of time putting red vehicles in front of green ones, and vice versa, and are now putting red ones in front of brown colored vehicles. It seems that this little bloodletting exercise is an attempt to measure red blood and brown color interaction energetics comparable to that of their vehicle color coordination games. Or, at least this is my interpretation of what the assholes are up to, having seen innumerable brown color games to date since they let me in on them screwing my life over. Sponsoring wars and disasters isn't enough for the perps it seems, and are back to cutting my thumb with action-at-a-distance applications, and now I get the pleasure of watching it heal 10 times slower than normal, all to play red color games again.

And as a finale for the day, the perps have arranged a fruit fly to dive bomb me in the face, a new fly behavior that they have added since this criminality began almost five years ago.

Time to call it a blog, and deal with getting to bed.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Smell Jam Again

I am getting continued smell jammed up my nose, purportedly from the furnace, though this only began in the last few months, long after the furnace began running. As mentioned before, the plausibility of the various incursions is not the big deal it was six months or more ago. It is more of a "fuck you"anytime they want.

I did my laundry today, and that exercise has endless perp fascination and stunts associated with it. It was the usual parade of freaks, color coordinated at usual, and then the vehicle color combinations in the parking lot. And too, certain colors of vehicles loitered outside, while the passenger or driver loitered near me inside the laundromat while the sole laundromat attendant "went missing" for a few minutes. The perps are very big on having vehicle passengers hang about me, usually with the vehicle nearby. It is the realm of boundless color games and feints.

They also like to have their operatives wave their hands over a vacated seat beside them I noticed yesterday while at the communal video show in lieu of outside work because of the wet conditions.

The in-house coughing and hacking has started up bigtime today, even before I got up I had a round of protracted and obviously faked hacking, only to get another round while eating chocolate at breakfast, one of the perps' very favorite brown colored foods for me to eat. They seem to want to assay the act of me eating a favored brown colored food, one avenue of them dealing with their brown color problem. And that includes a typo assault as I write this and nearby chatting, then more jammed smell in my nose again.

A new harassment method is to back up my drains, in this case the sink in my room, and have it foam and splutter. This is likely more games related to their dishes and washwater obession, as I get regularly noisestalked, masered, plasma-ed and touchstalked (fake but felt touches on me from no conventional cause). Just another game, though once per week is the current rate of it.

This is the post tea and chocolate time, and this is when the perps lay on extra noise and comotion, which is what is happening. After tea, I repaired the PC's sliding case panel by causing it to contact more tensioned members of the case when slid into the case. So far, so good. It is all about taking away the excuses, and playing the scripted game.

Now it is overhead pounding time; and especially so that I am reading about their favorite subject, the word I use to describe them in my written journal, psychopath.

The PC's noise and vibration came back again, essentially unabated which is very curious as my efforts should of made a difference. Just another cover story for the assholes.

More reading on the web and a moderate level of noisestalking going on. The masers, in this trailing filamentous form are continuing to occur in front of almost anything in my field of view. These are the cover story "floaters" and look like this found on a site that details this anomaly. Anything that I reach for, and even my reach trajectory of my hand has proximate masers or ones that my hand passes through.

More moderate level noise and gangstalking, but the assholes have started up the knee torquing torture. This is where they remotely apply forces to turn the bottom part of my leg, twisting it to a degree that causes knee pain. I lift my leg up to relive the pain, and put it down, and the torquing torture starts up again. This time it is the right leg getting the "treatment". It is my theory that this pain is sensed in primitive parts of the brain, those areas where they cannot yet fuck with. At any rate, it is impossible to do by myself sitting at a desk, legs in a single position, so what could be the clinical cause of that?

Once when I was out running, this was in 2003 when the perps still allowed me to do that, they crashed my lower jaw into my upper jaw so fast that there was teeth chipping. I cannot do this my myself, crash my jaws together that fast, so how did it happen? This is a question for the assholes who are claiming this assault is clinical in nature. Wiser and/or uncolluding minds know better.

A new round of front door slamming and room shaking plus some coughing and hacking into the noise mix. Concurrently, the assholes modified the text display on my LCD display, "thinning down" the size and spacing of text, a font change unbidden by me.

And with the myriad of typos that are "happening" as I type this, I have just learned that the perps know how to mind-fuck me out of repairing the typos on the fly. They would somehow fuck me into pressing the wrong key, and somehow I would know that almost right away, and then backspace and repair it before moving onto the next letter. Now, they can fuck me into pressing the wrong keys altogether and only let me in on noticing the typos many letters and words hence. Another small step of fuckery on top of all the depraved harassment they apply currently.

Time to blog off.

Noisestalked words du Jour;
socioeconomic (overhead pounding as I read it)

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

A Clunk Attack

Just when I had been rendered mellow and sleepy, eyes still open and attentive to this display, the perps pull an overhead clunking that penetrates the earmuffs I have on, put there to defend myself from this absurd clicking noise that accompanies keystroking. Then off with the earmuffs, as they aren't doing the job.

One never knows when an through the earmuff attack will come, but having them render me soporific in advance, suggests a high degree of coordination. And as usual, the PC is making its vibration noise that arrived with it when it came from the shop after a simultaneous double hard drive failure.

I was to go to the day center and do wildland restoration work at the Government House grounds, but it was called off owing to the wet conditions of an 18 hour rainfall that ended only a few hours earlier.

Instead, me and the "crew" (read gangstalking operatives in morph-over) watched a video on wasps. And it is interesting to note that they got into the head scratching, hat adjusting, arm behind head raising and the rest of the twitching and head spinning that goes on. And they placed two red fleece vested types nearby, and one in black. Ten minutes later the native Indian arrived with his pink colored fleece hat. They have to give him as slow introduction time for some reason, possibly related the perps' brown color problem, in this case, skin color.

After that I went to the grocery store, and the infamous (to me) London Drug Store where supreme gangstalking is in place all the time. And it was no different; all these stooges and twits, and the gang of four, acting like sentries in that they were so still, in front of the dental hygeine section where I look for the GUM rubber tips, still "unstocked" in over ten visitations in three months.

For some reason, with one exception, the perps put on the ugly gangstalkers today; the lard asses, the plain buck ugly ones from all over. As usual, the phalanx of working age males came on, this at 1100h and of no conceivable reason as to why there would be so many except to fulfill the gangstalk quota/theatre script. And sure enough, more spitters, just as they make a right angle turn in front of me. One oncoming asshole put on territorial games on the sidewalk to get me to vocalize my annoyance, which is becoming a regular event now.

And the one exception was a 30-ish woman who was pretty with jet black hair, the seeming "favored" appearance, in comparison to the ugly brigade, many of them reprising for more gangstalking pass bys, either in-store or outside some blocks away. Perhaps she was the only decent-to-look-at bait, all to distinguish the psychic energetics of looking at her versus the uglies. She was the only gangstalker to reprise in both stores, and this is common now, when I make a two store visitation.

Some noise, smell jam ("furnace smell"), and moderate typo harassment.

As it was a Monday yesterday, it wouldn't be complete without being stopped from sleeping for the first two hours when in bed. Then they still hadn't finished their sleep disruption games this morning is keeping me awake to hear the morning's ructions in the hallway and nextdoor bathroom until allowing me to get up at 0825h. The rain abated this morning, that made it about 18 hours of rain, more like a Vancouver deluge. As mentioned before, these sleep disruptions rarely result in a need to catch up or serve as an excuse to to have an afternoon nap.

It is the post teatime and chocolate that must be stirring the operatives to slam the front door and their cohort vermin to make this room shake as a "result". And it was a frat house levels, and is annoying in the extreme, though not as bad as zapping, and I have had a few of those today.

More room shaking and front door slamming. And add-on tinkling of glass and crockery, and even into the bathroom next door. A series of it for the past 20 minutes, one/five minutes. The overhead clunking started up, as did the coughing and hacking routine nearby. A normal fuckover in perpland.

Some relative quiet for the last hour as I peruse yet more 9/11 theories, something the assholes like me to look at while they go quiet. The PC is still making its horrid vibrational noise, something that I intended to fix today, but "somehow" lost the momentum.

Time to blog off and call it yet another day of being fucked with.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Download Games

More download obstruction games; the ISP's instant messenger software keeps getting hung up, now four times in sucession, and when I disable the firewall temporarily, the same message comes up, same result.

And the perps have me cranked up to be highly intolerant of this fuckery. The scripted failure to find my rain coat at either my brother's or my parents' place where the remainder of my belongings are stored is particularly irksome. And of course it is pissing rain (all day, 2200h even). All this erupted over the coat that was thought to be a raincoat "failed" last week and leaked plenty. Not unlike camping trips of the past, also fucked weather-wise in all likelihood.

And the finding of my belongings was also corrupted by the fact that the way my last move evolved as it was organized/scripted; I had to repack my belongings and then the box contents description wasn't accurate. The last move was an extreme fuckover, and I am still paying the price, now 5 months later.

And more games on the bus coming into town from my parents' place where I stayed last night. Not only 5 times the normal number of passengers, but also they got me into a split couple gangstalk arrangement where she was beside me, and he was in front of me, turned 90 degrees. He was on head twitching and spinning duty, almost at the level of new tourist in town, even if the windows were fogged up. And the usual freaks came on board, all to "tickle" my latent aversions to certain colors, comportment or other psychic remnants from their introduced traumatizations of the distant past. The entire ramble on past traumatizations is here. And there is way too much typo fuckery going on to continue at this moment.

And another notion I had was to get some tools to enable me to get into the PC and quiet down the vibrational noise the perps introduced since the last shop visit some three weeks ago. This noise is being tied to the two new hard drives that were installed, and "somehow" that is related to this cycling vibration that sounds like an oscillating fan. And as I am being kept at the end of my tether today, that too is some fuckery that "I" am getting riled up about.

And I am getting shower stalked as I type this up, post lunchtime, the food digestion period the assholes like to noisestalk all the time. And another 4 year habit got fucked with today; when doing the dishes they mind-fucked me into not rinsing the fry pan, but just drying it. I have rinsed the frypan the same way every fucking day for 4 years, and "somehow" I forgot. Fucking bullshit. For the clinical assholes/pretenders, I want an explanation of how that could possibly happen.

The front door slamming and the room shaking is starting up; there is a noise flurry drive ongoing, all to build up to an all-quiet period, then another round before long. It is still raining outside, and that effectively contains me from going grocery shopping or to the day center, though not high on my list of diversions. Meanwhile, the navy blue towel hanging on the door beside me is wiggling away unto itself. This is not new; anything relatively moveable will sway or vibrate when I am nearby; the pop inside its bottles at any grocery store, hanging objects, and even soap bubbles that self-erupt from the dish soap container at the slightest touch will dart about as if energized by a hidden force. (Which is the case I contend).

I told the doctor once about the pop inside pop bottles vibrating away whenever I walked by it at the grocery store and he just blew me off. That is the kind of service I get from these assholes, the stooges who think they are doing boy scout duty in aiding the perps, even if wilfully engaging in illegal activity. What I don't get is that the dark hand of the perps, and there may be multiple factions of them, is manifestly evident in the 9/11 tragedy, and yet the entire population of Victoria is playing along with this, with substantial remuneration it appears.

More operatives are running by my door, heading into the bathroom next door, hurriedly flushing the toilet, running out again to the front door, slamming it (what else?) and then "causing" this room to shake 20' away. The perps do like to set up high speed movement at times; they had the fireman at the grocery store running out to his "call", as the firetruck was parked outside. And there are plenty of "joggers" about, more than usual for weekdays. When I had my vehicle, a Volvo 245, they had me drive over the speed limit all the time, and often, I would have vehicles around me doing the same speed. Even in the city, where the posted limit is 50kph (32 mph), the odd time I did (or was mind-fucked into it more like) 80kph, I had vehicles in front and behind be doing the same speed. That takes coordination, as well as ensuring that there was no pedestrians about.

Perhaps my stinging remarks about glass bottle bashing and the apparent (and fantastic) recycling activity of one of the operatives in a nearby room has hit home, in perpland. Today's glass bottle bashing is coming from outside today, though the reason is even more mysterious as there is no public recycling operation in this neighborhood. If it is a winning strategy, the perps will go back to it everytime, regardless of plausibility.

More coughing and hacking eruptions in the hallway, and another round of remotely invoked typo fuckery as I attempt to key this in. More of it, as I attempt to tidy this up. Since 2006, when the perps learned how to mind-fuck all my spelling, the typos and grammar games have become more intense as there are more ways to jerk me around to get the same outcome.

My mother has also taken on this fake coughing, as have some members at the yoga class. It is that directional component they like too; one side, then the other. That takes coordination.

And I also got coughstalked at Qi Gong last week; the instructor was asking for my name, and as I said it, one of the blatant operatives coughed at that very moment. Never have I known coughing to be so strategically applied, and this all began in 2003 when the perps had me in hospital illegally with their operatives buzzing about, in their gangstalking activity. It was then the coordinated coughing began, and has largely continued, especially in this so-called rooming house where they can pack their operatives in closer, and more of them. I cannot see getting out of here for awhile. And as I type this I am getting the overhead clunking again, obviously this is too much bait.

Some kind of electric motor has started up somewhere in this seeming rooming house; that hum also serves to create a cover story for adding a greater hum and synchronizing it with the buzzing the assholes apply to my feet, which has become nearly constant, all day and into sleep. Other routine events are the masers and plasma games that go on in my field of vision, and some vision perturbations.

More typo fuckery in typing email; three attempts to put a plural on a word. And the noisescape is timed to the very moment I depress the very key they have been preventing me from pressing.

Even with the halogen light on I am getting the dinginess of a Dicken's like hovel. And the very instant small dialog boxes are closed "someone" shakes the room with a front door slamming 20' away. Amazing how often that happens.

I was reading more about the 9/11 tragedy and how even the 9/11 commision appears to be involved in making up their version of events and ignoring conflicting testimony. It is a abomination of the depraved, to cook up that event and then start conflagrations in the Middle East, especially inserting themselves between the warring sects that even Saddam Hussein couldn't contain. What were they thinking? Or more like, what is really the objective here? That I cannot answer, but the intense noisestalking that goes on when I blog on this, as in right now, suggests a connection. I have mentioned this in past blogs and won't detail it here.

Related to 9/11, what I wanted to mention was the positioning of cable drums in front of the renovated section of the Pentagon that day, exactly in front of the location where Flight 93 crashed into the building. (And it made a spiralling 270 degree arc in descending in 2.5 minutes to target that relatively unpopulated quadrant of the building.) As it so happens, one of the very favorite large mass objects the perps use to stalk me with, as in prepositioning them on my route, are drums of cable! These are on powerline service trucks, usually with a boom, and there maybe two or more drums positioned on the rear of the truck, usually directed at the direction of my approach. They will often put two or three of these vehicles together on a "job", something I hadn't seen before overt harassment, BOH, 04-15-2002.

So could it be that the drums of cable were pre-positioned at the very location that Flight 93 was to crash into for some kind of energetics study? On another note, the perps do like to rip open a building, a topic that has also recieved past blogging, and Flight 93 did that in spectacular and tragic fashion. Here is a site that spoofs the integrity of those cable drums outside the Pentagon, though I don't neccessarily agree with their conclusions.

All I need to do to attract more noise flurries is read about the 9/11 tragedies and analysis of events. This gets the clunking in the bathroom going, the proverbial crockery clashing being a part of it. Some voice over that is now coming in quieter than it did before, and other noises like exceptionally loud water moving in pipes, sirens and it is another iteration of what goes on every day. And if I have any uncontrolled thoughts as to coincidences and conspiracy, why, more noise suddenly erupts.

One interesting item that I learned; that the 328 page Patriot Act was introduced 13 days after the 9/11 event and that the two senators that wanted to slow it down got anthrax attacks on their offices (weapons grade anthrax no less).

And while I did the link for the above paragraph, a timed front door slamming and room shake occured when I found the web page I wanted to link to.

Another curious anomaly that followed 9/11, though likely serving a different objective, was the following string of premature deaths of prominent microbiologists.

Some relative quiet for the past hour, what a relief. I finished reading the book, Suburban Spies by Anthony Brina, and it does replicate much, but not all of the experiences I have encountered to date. He gets gangstalked some, not as much as me it seems, but he gets more lookalikes, the operatives who are morphed-over to look like specific people in his life. He got the wayward vixen treatment, a tempestous planted girlfriend who was short on describing how she knew about certain private things that only he would of known, and well as being good for creating disagreements over her curious whereabouts and activities.

My planted female vexation was Ms. C in my story, who still communicates the odd phone call and email , even though I haven't seen her in nearly four years. (I am not allowed to cross the US border, as they reject me because I might "become a ward of the state" (see details below). And of course she never comes up to Canada). Who she is, and who she morphs into in my current surroundings I can only guess, but she could well be in my proximity in a number of guises as she has the advantage, in perp perspective terms, to have been close to me for a time, and that seems to confer certain advantages to the gangstalking activity. I have seen her likeness on hiking trails in 2005 and 2006, but she is not a hiker and was likely teleported in for a gangstalk.

As an example of planting past friends and colleagues, the perps usually go nuttier with more gangstalking and stunts on Mondays after I have stayed at my parents' place Sunday night. (Today is a low key Monday). But they came out in droves last night when I was driving my parents home from my brother's place where we had dinner. Normally that time of night, Sunday about 2000h, is a low traffic period in the winter. I reckon they put some 400 vehicles on me last night on a 20 minute drive, the coup de gras was a long container truck with triple bogey wheels in the rear making a left hand turn in front of me, all painted in an orange-red color. And note, given the retail chain it was working for, it was bizarre that it was making that turn there coming off a major artery.

Back to Anthony Brina's book again; it is written for the TI community, to validate their harassment situations and compare notes on who gets fucked with what and why. I would recommend it for those who are curious about extra-legal harassment, surveillance and gangstalking. It appears that the perps are letting Anthony Brina work, although barely as work harassment eventually builds up and he is forced to resign before long. In his case, the perps like to plant the "said before" conversations on him, where someone will repeat almost verbatim what he said privately to someone else, and there is no expectation that the "repeat offender" would have access to the converstation. It is rare that I get this, and my harassment is more in the form of elicitations where they arrange the conversation around details of my knowlege, and will likely bring forward, assuming it isn't all mind controlled (mine), but keeping "my" syntax and vocabulary largely in character. And I assume, the "knowledge" that I have is largely planted in along the way, and they may have me consolidate it in mind a week before I meet the person who is to elicit it.

Even his own father is in on these repeat conversations, where the father repeated a conversation that the author gave to his 10 year old son, related to his divorce at the time. And when Anthony Brina challenged his father on how he knew to say what he did, as it had been "lifted" from his earlier conversation with his son, his father stiffened up and went very defensive.

Anthony Brina's life hasn't settled down any since he wrote the book in 03-2006, though his recent emails with me indicate that he has gone back to Asia, a location that he felt at a disadvantage in not speaking the language and being readily identified as a foreigner, and hence, one who could be ripped off with impunity. And he had some adverse harassment games go on, not the least or which was getting tripped up over Chinese visas, deportation threats and having his passport invalidated over a technical tiff with his ex-wife.

The perps have pulled some visa and passport games with me, but nothing too substantive or odd at the time, except when the INS pulled their guns on me to give me a piece of paper with the US Consulate's phone number in Vancouver BC. I was not acting oddly or doing anything threatening, all I wanted to do was clean out my apartment in Seattle. No go, big show; don't come back.

Anthony Brina finds that he cannot get very far in relationships with women, and from my experience, the perps can, and will, manage all aspects of all relationships down to the last glance even, so perhaps he doesn't realize the complete and utter bind that he is in. Or at least, that is my opinion, as everything is managed for me, right down to the excessive bird shit and spittle on every sidewalk I take. Even the litter is managed for particular color consistencies at specific locations over the course of two years even.

Enough to blog off and hope for no rain tommorow.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

More Room Shaking

The combination noisescape has been building; room shaking every minute or two for the past 10 minutes, hallway banter, glass bottle bashing, key jingling, front door closure noise (funny how everyone slams it hard, the putative cause of room shaking), and a phone call from my mother/shill in the mix. Even ships whistles are being added, and that is over two miles away, but today, the noise suddenly comes through.

A respite in the noise and room shaking flurries; relative peace and quiet for the past hour, which suggests they are continuing with their iterations of noise and vibration, and then imposing an all-quiet order. This might be related to what Tom Bearden calls "vacuum structuring", where it seems, the energies of the vacuum are identified and quantified in successive sessions. That big word was no doubt perp planted, though they have been tight on allowing a good definition from being posted to the web, the last time I looked.

Last night there were a few awakenings to ses the perps' grainy picture show and then they let me get back to sleep. These are where they render the light as if it were in a old grainny low light level photograph. Except last night they added a difference I hadn't seen before, and that was the graininess was variable; there were extra grainy clumps, separated by the usual grainy light games. Not a big deal, and they are happy with a two second look at it, and let me go back to sleep.

And more dreams are being recalled of late, which suggests perp intrusion, which I know to be one of their games. The dreams were about memory foam matresses in an institutional-like bed setting, where "I" seemed to be a manager and was overseeing their arrival and installation in this dormitory. Where, I don't know. And while "executing my duties" in the dream, I had a woman draped over my shoulder in a romantic fashion though I am hard pressed to recall her facial features, something odd in itself, as I don't forget faces if left to my own devices (never nowadays).

There was a recalled dream the night before, where I was acting in a capacity of a data manager related to biometric forestry data that I was involved in for most of my past professional career. I suspect these dream plantings might be a way to subconsciously elicit some kind of energetics association which they could compare to real life situations.

Recalling dreams two nights in sucession is unheard of for me, as I rarely recall them at all. This just may be a new method of causing me to "experience" situations that appear real, and measuring the neural energetics correlates from it, which maybe at a more fundamental level as I am not awake and there are no other inputs into consciousness.

Another family experiment; we are all going to my in-town brother's for dinner tonight, and he will likely make a good meal as he usually does, though clearly it is an event he doesn't relish. Call it another First Feral Family experiment, and there have been at least 10 or so of these. There will likely be some 300 gangstalking vehicles coursing around the family Ford Escape, and this is all the more attractive if I am being cooped up in my room until then. The dusk onset time will occur then, an important diurnal perp condition for which they invoke endless games and stunts over. Not my problem, why am I being harassed over it?

The perps have been buzzing my feet since lunch; this is where they set up a small vibration over the entire sole, and it sticks with me no matter what the orientation of my feet are. On the scale of harassment, another minor event thankfully.

The overhead clunking and squeaking noises have increased, as has the in-house coughing and hacking (same perpetrators now for three months, never mind the notion they haven't got better), room shaking, and now the adjacent night club is seemingly sponsoring a drummer's session, with progressive beat that is unattributable to listening music. And just for fun, the assholes have put loud motorcycle noise on too, one of their regualars of the noisescape.

A few other stunts are plasma and maser beams in my vision, playing with the sunlight levels in rapid cycling and creating more typos that would ever happen if left unfettered.

Today's blog is going to end early in the day, as my parents will be arriving soon, and online access from their place is problematic owing to the wretched mouse they never replace.