Monday, September 03, 2007

Labor Day

I am returned from an overnight stay at my parent's place, and with the Moday holiday of Labor Day, my father wasn't sent off to his dementia day care for the day. So instead, the perps had me sleep over 11 hours and getup at 1000h, just so the said fucker could gangstalk me constantly while I was eating breakfast and make his "appearances" more frequent. He was on extra talkative duty yesterday, and was up to the usual bullshit of laying on how puggled he is, when in fact it is a long running stunt. How on earth does and Alzheimer's patient (supposedly) time his living room egress to the use of the remote control (IR beam across where he is to walk) by someone else 100% of the time? And then his pointless standing up and blocking the window view in discrete units was another perp directed event. And then standing in front of his chair (not sitting down for whatever reason), and then standing behind his chair for no seeming reason, all repeated a number of times near dusk onset tells me one thing; no dementia patient could possibly act with such consistency every week. It it always the same, just worse this time, the labors of being a nonconsensual human experimentation subject.

As ususal, they were all over me when making the coffee, which was made before we set off in the vehicle and were the toast of the town with long trains of vehicles behind and ahead, and in the usual color coordinated and vehicle type configurations. The SUV's get organized with the pickups, the 4 door sedans are usually together, and then some are placed randomly. The dumb assed Smart Cars have now invaded on the street where they live, and there are no end of them buzzing around me every day. I drove a different route, and there were at least three recent paving jobs, all of differing ages, up to 4 months ago and one finished a week ago. No doubt this was of significant interest to the perps, and might have been the reason I had a long train of vehicles behind me, rather than being the last one of the train ahead.

And as I sit in a dark green chair most of the time when at my place, it is no surprise to me that the first vehicles to gangstalk me when departing from my parent's place are dark green. They put on at least six in the first minutes of thoroughfare driving, and had plenty of the whites, silver greys, blacks and dark greys before they graduated up to reds and light metallic browns. Though they did put a deep brown vehicle early in the gangstalking mix, perhaps as a flyer, just try it, as two of us in the vehicle had coffee just before we set off.

And I read about the so-called "no-fly" list in the US, and how it is being applied to journalists, senators, writers etc. who are critics of Pres. George Bush. They are pissed that they are taken aside and searched, some having to remove their clothes in a private booth, and they call this humiliating. They don't know the half of it, being gangstalked, smirked at, harassed, evicted, and otherwise constantly surveilled and monitored, never minding the fact that my personal history is known to a wide group, and that I am largely unaware of it, as it relates to a period of child development before permanent memories are formed. Nor do they realize that some of the most common words that I type take three or more attempts as my finger control is not my own, and the assholes like to get me enraged over this and many other imposed events they create all day long, every fucking day. And if I wanted to be calm and collected about these incursions, I don't have a choice; instant rage when the torture master calls for it.

But, all this searching of these opponents of Pres. Bush is a wonderful opportunity to take energy readings off them so to be able to better screw them around, mind control wise, because they can be dociled and redirected over time, or in a worse case scenario, taken down with some kind of "mental disorder", though I suspect that this has been done in the past. It is all too clever, all these "benefits" of the 9/11 operation, and "throwing a war" seems to be part of the plan. And I am hoping there isn't going to be another, as Pres. George Bush doesn't seem to like the neighbors in Iraq for chrissakes. Not that it was thought about anyway, as it seems Iran is doing its best to invite some kind of hostile reaction, recently annoucing that they had 3,000 centrifuges running to enrich uranium for fissile material on the heels of a passing grade by an international atomic energy inspection commision. Talk about a gimme, that says "invade me", this has to close to a real one, and not just a warmup cookie. Like I have mentioned in my blog postings of Pondering the Perp's Objectives, there is more to this than "mere" mind-control. (Enough ranting; I have been getting considerable yellow plasma beams floating on this display, and that seems to figure into blogging all the time).

Another light sprinkling of rain, now increasing, follows my visit to the nearby supermarket, and what a gangstalking it was. Which translates to gangstalkers everywhere I went, at least three stocking carts out with the ubiquitious brown boxes on them, the large gutted males in loud orange shirts, the small kid in dark brown who snuck up behind me at the checkout and then moved over one, so he could be seen by me, paralleling my passage through, the old fart act who had to lean on the checkout conveyor belt end, where I had placed a portion of my shopping basket, the "staff" act who separated the stack of black plastic shopping carts only seconds ahead of me needing one, and other freaks in swarm mode. Then the final coup was to have a party of two egressing from their bright metallic green vehicle on the street and then following me into the building and into the elevator. It was all over in ten minutes or so, but what a chore getting around in the store, as a Labor Day returning customer was the cover story by which the swarms were assembled. And also, an anchor stalker, the blonde in a red hoodie was at the checkout while the swarms circulated, including outside the store, as the checkouts face the sidewalk and have a view onto the street where plenty of color coordinated vehicles were also ordered. Anyhow, if the shortage in dish soap hadn't occured, there would of been no need to go there on this long weekend and I could of gone tomorrow, hopefully to a smaller crowd.

And I see some kind of oil spray has erupted in a 20' diameter patch some 120' away, in the courtyard of the tower opposite, and sprayed up onto the railing as well. This is away from the normal paths of egress, but that a used oil collection vehicle gangstalks on the same street twice in a month, there must be something about (petroleum based) automotive oil that the perps cannot figure out. This also plays into their current obsessions over olive oil, omega 3 oil and the rest of the games that they put me through. All those past oil changes I did for vehicle maintenance way back then, and all the other related fuckups that "happened" (stuck filter, overtightened drain plug by maintenance personnel, stripped drain plug thread etc.) were arranged over the perp's fixation. Not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?

Another stunt of the short shopping freakshow outing was having a gangstalker walking toward me on the sidewalk, flicking his stack of letters about that were in his hand, and lo, by coincidence (read, managed coincidence), if the perps hadn't screwed me out of remembering to take the one letter I had ready to the mailbox. Another of those orchestrated events, the "reminder" jerkaround. I don't know what they get from it, but there are always at least 30 to 100 such events per day. Sometimes it is just vocabulary use; I read or hear of an obscure word, and then find someone using it later. Fucking bizarre.

More music listening, though not without incident; popups "from" Realplayer and the anti-virus software along with lound beeping tones to piss me off so that the headphones were removed momentarily. And plenty of web page navigation "miscues", so the page position was lost, or the wrong page came up. Rarely, I will get an blatant unrequested web page change, where the perps force a specific unrequested page to display.

And "fly-bys"; a house fly that comes to visit and is sure to pass between me and the LCD display, like they all do, especially the fruit flies that I get. (No fruit out for them to be attracted).

Another coincidence over names; while reading, this morning I came across Naomi Wolf's The End of America: A Letter of Warning To A Young Patriot, then later today, Naomi Klein's book, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism, both of which I bookmarked to read at some future time should I have the means and the money to acquire the books (or be allowed to borrow from the library), and it seems mighty curious that these first names would come up in one day. Like I have said, nothing that occurs in my life is a coincidence, there is simply far too much to be random.

Yesterday it was my mother's turn to "need help" on the PC as yest again, some settings got changed, and lo, if Microsoft's variable menu boxes didn't hide the command/switch I was looking for and piss me off. It was also my mother's turn to wave her hands in front of the CRT display, covering over parts of it, and then with a book in hand, in an over-expressive manner to convey what she was talking to. She has some rather specific questions that fell outside of her expected technical abilities I thought. Anyway, four days ago it was my in-town brother's turn to wave his hands in front of his new 19" LCD display, and I forget if he had something in hand. This is at least the 10th time they have put on this stunt in the last two years, so it must have something to do with the colors and magnetic radiation that comes off CRT tubes. That, and my supposedly puggled father stands in front of the TV is unerring ability, so there is something orchestrated about all this jerking around, and I am the victim. No one is telling me why they are behaving like this, and that was when I would ask them. Now, the question doesn't "come to mind" anymore.

And the reruns of the Last Detective on television which I watch at my parent's place on Sunday nights are also coming in with washed out faces, as if they were blanched somehow. That applies to Caucasians and the East Indians depicted on the show, and now "happens" on my web pages. For the past six months of more, the perps have been darkening down the hue of faces on my PC, so I wonder what this is all about, testing the margins of face recognition it seems. The rerun season isn't just for giving the networks a breather in the schedule it seems.

As I am typing some glass bottle bashing is erupting from outside, six stories down. This particular noise and vibration fuckery is getting more air play these days, not the least of which is my father for my past two visits. He leaves the livingroom where he is watching TV, and goes to the dining room some 15' distant, and "plays" with the teapot lid, tinkling it and creating noise and vibrations of the ceramic material. He got up at least five times over thre hours to expressly do this, and the teapot is the only item on the dining room table, so it not that he is attempting to clear the item to the kitchen. So... that makes it three locations in the past six monthe where someone is clinking glass or ceramic in close to proximity, and it is still happening regularly, from a number of differing sources (e.g. "neighbors" at two residence locations and my parent's place). Can some asshole who thinks this is a random event tell me in person with a straight face?

And another "phone my daughter" event while at my parent's place this morning, my mother instignating this one again, even if she never phoned back from last week when I left a message. I gave her all my car stereo parts that "surfaced" in my belongings when moving my things from the various storage locations earlier (as blogged in May - June), and I gave her $50 to help get it all connected, and she hasn't installed it yet. I cannot count the number of books, CD's, DVD's and whatever else I have bought her in the past five years and she doesn't read, listen or look at them. The Ms. C of the story also pulled this stunt all the time, and even gave all my gifts to her back to me, all of them stored in a separate cardboard box. Fucking weird that this behavoir is also "breaking out" among so many parties that I know.

Anyhow, the day is done, another belabored day, like all of them.

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