Saturday, July 21, 2007

Colonscopy; Onward Brownward Soldiers

This medical procedure, colonscopy, just "happens" to be one of acute interest to the perps, as is the color brown, long detailed in this collection of blog postings to date. And it is at least of some humor to me at least, that the President is recieving such treatment, as the topic, color, act of all things shit and all related issues, continues to be of intense perp interest. My brother has had two such procedures, both routine, in the last five years (when the overt harassment began, 04-2002), and so did my fairweather "friend" of my story, Ms. L in early 2002, before the overt harassment began. And in fact, they had their respective colons cleansed only weeks apart, something that I thought was mighty curious at the time, but could not determine any reason. It was only in late 2003 or early 2004 when the perps declared their color specific harassment agenda, and then all the toilet games, plunging, sewage backups and the rest of it that I was allowed to put it all together.

So what does it mean, the president's colonoscopy, and the intensive shit and brown games of the perps? One could easily ascertain that he is under the perp's research microscope, and their studies have lead to him "needing" this de-browning event. Why him, and not all the possible thousands of other colonoscopies that take place in North America? I am not entirely sure, but in many instances the perps like certain topics to be very public, and all the better if it is someone they may have been studying for a long time. And as I am fresh from reading Dean Radin's books on psi energies, and entangled matter over distances, (see yesterday's blog posting), there just may be a connection with these energies, and specific colors. And who better to have as public psi energy detection bait than the prez? All very speculative, and I will leave it at that, as just more lose ends in this continuum of exceptional coincidences called "the life I lead". Or more correctly, the life that is scripted for me, down to the nanosecond to trivialities such as fleeting glances and breakfast cereal flake behavior (spinning, flipping, cantilevering beyond normal etc.).

I had my usual adversarial lunch making, courtesy of the perp's extra-gravitational energy games, e.g. laterally flying cheese shreddings. And they have renewed the game of forced "forgets", the oven broiler being left on is an endless game of jerking me around. Then this stunt spawns two more games; continued oven clicking as it cools down, and a smell emanating from the oven, as if burning residual crustings, of which there are none, as this is a new stove. No matter, for them, plausibility is only a game, but it does make me wonder if they think someone is watching them, perish the thought.

And having me rant at these intrusions, and the usual 20 to 40 for such an mealtime event is all part of the harassment/research agenda, as is vocalizing at the appropriate time for them part of the continuation of mind control research. Their biggest stunts and consequently controlled "reactions" that are imposed upon me are reserved for applying peanut butter and jam to my bread at breakfast time. As in, every morning. This of course is a brown colored substance with a red one overlaid, and this color combination is also of intense perp interest. I cannot count the number of public ambulatory gangstalkings where a brown shirted operative stands in front of a red shirted operative, usually in profile and then facing me (or back facing me). And if time permits, they will usually swap positions and then again rotate through a one quarter circle arc to again offer more variability. And it is highly likely that all these operatives are managed for how much brown they are packing inside them, just as they do for me.

Onto more uplifting topics, thought I don't know what it could be. Something like getting blanked out is becoming more frequent, and is pissing me off of late. This is at the yoga class check-in where I usually have something in mind to say, or more like, something planted in mind to regurgitate. Of late, the perps are blanking me of all thoughts as to what to say, and I am temporarily stuck for words. This situation and a few others of like kind suggest that they now mind-control me for all verbalizations, in speech or in writing, and are able to usurp these faculties at will to supply planted articulations or to render me literally speechless. Past experience has also taught me that they can create a stuttering situation, and this has never been a problem before they "arrived" to fuck my life more than they already had.

I encountered a gangstalking blog, of similar experience to mine, though gangstalking is only half of my harassment picture, as I would likely be allowed to hold a job if this were the case. But as a highly managed, (read, fucked with), Targeted Individual, the perps do not want me undertaking employment or varying my activities very much. As mentioned in past blogs, and in the Essential Postings to the right, I eat the same lunch and dinner foods with minor variations, and "somehow", (read, mind-control), I don't mind this. Read the About section of the above blog for the testimonies of yet more individuals being cast into this perpetual depraved purgatory. And they won't let me watch movies either; I never get "motivated" and it never happens, even if I have a strong intent and it is a logistical breeze, as the cinemas are only a half block away.

This late start day, another 10.5 hours of sleep when I only need 8 hours at best, has me finishing my reheated tortillas dinner at 1900h, likely a near dusk timing for perp games and their ongoing fixation over energy fields at this time of day, and with respect to the color red.

I did get out for 10 minutes of shopping time, then followed by tea at my place and then an hour read of the Globe and Mail newspaper. It was a very light "fairy rain" when outside, and once I started the newspaper, the rains came down, and the perps continued their vehicular and ambulatory gangstalking outside, along with the maser and plasma show in my field of vision. Not a shut-in day as it was looking to be. I can only assume I was duly preped in my apartment before I set off, and the perps are looking to measure the same energies at the nearby supermarket as they can in my apartment. So, in other words, the gangstalking swarms were all in place, though for the most part they didn't drive up my ass, and kept their gangstalkers reprising in the aisles. That is, one gangstalker on me once I had just arrived in the store, and then again when I was exiting the aisle after picking up my few groceries. I got the parade of male gangstalkers at the cooler case, three of them in file "just" loping through, never mind the shopping cover story. And no significant checkout obstruction, just the dude ahead packing his groceries into a blue duffel bag with white stripes and having his paper towels wedged in the checkout plastic bag dispensing device. And lo, if that same device loaded with ready plastic bags, once free of the paper towels "just sitting" in it, wasn't spun and turned for my groceries by the cashier, and one corner of it was one inch away from the debit card reader.

Regular readers will know that the act of paying for something is of intense interest, and the moment is subject to much noisestalking, coughing, background chatter, cellphoning, planted sentries with their wood canes doing nothing else but look like the swim club member I once knew, and dozens of other feints for that oh-so important moment. I got some wisdom from David Icke of all people on the possible relevance of money and financial transactions to the perp's ongoing stalking of such activity. He wrote that money was a form of energy, and it can be good or bad, depending on how it was earned. I thought that was interesting, and while it might sound flakey, it lines up with the enormous interest of the perps with respect to my financial transactions. (The perps routine jerk me around when updating my finances in Quicken and online banking. My ATM visits are also of significant interest to them).

Anyhow, any visit outside is always a freakshow, and I got my "plastic bag men" today, the dudes (read, operatives) pushing a grocery cart full of garbage bags full of pop cans and plastic pop bottles. Other freak treats were the negro stalking again, the two blonde dudes emerging from the elevator when arriving back, the leatherjacket act, and the operative stacking, where at least three of them arranged to stand in front of the other in anticipation of me taking a picture of this arrangement. I am now convinced the camera is more of a liability to take than not. If there is an extra freaky photogenic moment, the perps manage me to "forget" to take a picture. The on-street sweater flicking event of a few weeks back being one such occasion. And to lapse into my mind-fuck rant, I don't have a blog hit counter, so I have no idea if the few pictures I put up are of any interest to readers.

I got snookered for three hours with a power outage that took out this building and most of what I could see in my view. It came at dusk, like the last one, as do many other perp sponsored special events, about 2006h or so, and ended when I was 20 seconds within getting to bed for an early night of shuteye, another often noisestalked transition time.

There was natural light for the first hour, even with the rain coming down, and in the opposite tower's oversized grey painted courtyard some 120' away, the perps put on single ambulatory operatives on gangstalking duty, wearing variations of red, starting with women in pink raincoats, then a large woman in all white (no coat in the rain), even her shoes, (like a 1960's nurse), and finally graduating up to men in red and black or grey checked jackets on "stand around" duty, lined up. I try not to watch all of this, but every so often I am mind-controlled to do so, and the final act was a 15 member file of operatives lined up at the door, nearly all males as far as I could tell, and none of them in a raincoat while the rain was coming down. It is simply amazing as how so many men clustered outside in the rain in a power outage, and then individually walk past the organized file of their operative colleagues to the door inside. One in front of another, the operative/gangstalker "stacking" game, men's night.

And yes, power outages have happened before in this five year long (and counting) nonstop harassment and freakshow, going back to repeats; same store, different time of day as one example. Another one at my parents a few years ago, and some other anomalies that I cannot recall. Stories like "an owl flew into a transformer at the switching station" abound, and given that the perps can cause just about any oddity to occur as "natural circumstances", I don't really care what the stated reasons were.

And while there was no electrical power the usual noisescape started up, intensified even. The sirens, street hollaring, hallway conversations, overhead rumbling and thumping, bus noises with squealing brakes in the wet no less, the loud mufflered vehicles (perforated and "performance" mufflers), and even some heavy duty vehicles and tour buses. Most of this I did not see, as I was journaling in my written diary with an LED headlamp and a candle lantern. The latter item was of great interest to the perps who projected plasma beams from the lantern and arranged light clusters around the flame, as if I was looking through special effects filters. After two hours of this, they let me see the candle lantern flame as is, unembellished with the exotic light properties manipulations.

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