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.

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