Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Perps 2008 Accomplishments From the Victim's Perspective

A slack day today, mostly online and troving through year end "best" lists. I had my noise barrages, often repeating a cycle of hallway door thumping and clicking, then loud mufflered vehicles outside, then annoying whines to have me put the earmuffs on, then overhead clunking and rumbling to then penetrate the ear muffs. Same cycle of noise both before and after lunch.

Onto what the perps learned about mind control in 2008. I was dead wrong at the end of last year thinking that they had completed the job, as they had faked me out for the preceding weeks at the end of the year. The biggest tip-off that they are still active is when there is ongoing, repetitive and consistent noisestalking (coincident noise or other phenomenon) when engaging in mental tasks. As far as I can tell, with the usual caveat that they could be faking all of this, here is the 2008 nonconsensual mind control research progress report:
  • they can now invade my dreams and defeat the protective neural circuitry that kicks in and gets me out of bad dreams. This is becoming a serious harassment method of late,
  • they can subvert and plant "self talk" almost 100%, save the odd judgemental thought/rebuke like "asshole", "jerk" in response to their provocations,
  • they are still working on brainstem area attention control; this is not 100% externally controllable yet, but they noisestalk me everytime my attention is redirected to something more important or relevant,
  • they can now defeat and control "body memory", the situation of no conscious recall except when the body does the same activity and one remembers somatically,
  • in a never-before mental manipulation, they can now have me "forget" to cross my "t's" when handwriting, "losing track" of which upright letter to cross,
  • another invasive mental manipulation is to be able to visually parse objects in my view and then accord them greater valence for no known reason; the example was last weekend during the 60 Minutes recap of Barack Obama and they parsed his face out of the head shot and then somehow manipulated so that it was more noticed (accorded more cognitive attention by direct neural manipulation) than the rest of his head and the remaining objects and persons in the image as shown on the TV,
  • they can now defeat and control my knowledge of lighting changing or not what it was previously, hence they jerked with the lighting, knocking out a bulb and I "didn't notice", that is, my knowledge of the usual light levels was fucked with,
  • they are still working on control of subconscious thoughts, usually detectable when they plant bullshit scenarios that I am only vaguely aware of and as soon as I reject the logic of these planted thoughts and think "bullshit", a noise will fire off, often with a simultaneous plasma light flash,
It is all too grim to say the least, and they won't be content with 100% mind control as they are still arranging their color games. Tonight on the cleaning job they had the boss man and a just departing salesman in a vehicle having a confab outside with the garage door open while I was dealing with the brown plastic mop bucket and cleaning the sand out of it 50' away. Regular readers will know the perps are totally obsessed with presenting me with brown colors and plastics too, so this was a double objective stunt.

And they are still busy in presenting the Unfavored, the likely triggers for long ago traumatizations the fuckers must of applied to me and then wiped my recall thinking they had covered their tracks. Wrongo, and they are still at it, attempting remediation of traumatizations they inflicted and they haven't bothered to ask me if I want this. The answer is that I am fine how I am and don't need any nonconsensually applied remediation whatsoever from any party, especially one that has my eternal derision for being so fucking stupid in the first place and then compounding the problem by taking the most arduous and obdurate remediation path possible. Hence 6.5 years of fucking hell as an overtly harassed targeted individual while they pretend that it isn't them, normally providing a cover story for all the antics and provocations they undertake to re-stimulate these distant subconscious memories as well as to provoke me into vocalizing my scorn, and even escalating the abuse to elicit screaming rage. (At least 50 times per day, and getting worse).

And I note of late that the perps are running black colored vehicles with matte black wheels and dark tinted glass and assigning (or eliciting) a negative "reaction" to the event. Could it be that I have subconscious traumatizations from seeing vehicles that fit the description of being military owned and operated?

Another traumatization the fuckers told me about, and I would of never figured it out on my own, is viewing the activity of someone mopping floors, likely something they would do in an institutional setting. And of course I actually get to mop floors myself with this one hour per day janitorial assistant job in a nearby car dealership. When the fuckers illegally incarcerated me in hospital for no organic condition in 2003, they made sure that I saw plenty of floor mopping by the seeming diligent janitorial staff, all to no benefit as it turned out, just like the entire stay, later viewed by the doctor as "persecution". Which is what I told him in the first place, as if he didn't know, getting a nice contract to work for the military after seeing me.

Other action today was that they had a party of four tail me from 50' outside my apartment building and then "happen" to end up walking through the car dealership lot where I was waiting for the boss man with the key to get in. And lo, if on the way back another tail was on me, and "happened" to reprise again outside this apartment block and accompanied me into the elevator. They also had two Asians in the lobby standing around, one on a cell phone and had three large, 4'x2'x1.5' black soft sided suitcases stacked on end in a triangle formation in the lobby. I suppose the cover story was that two Asians were waiting for someone to pick them up as the third Asian gave me the stare when she exited the building as I was about to enter it, and the above mentioned male Fuckwit tail behind me as it turned out as they made sure I didn't hear him when normally I do.

And lo, if the hot water "problems" of this apartment block haven't erupted today and will take three weeks to repair. Read, more temperature manipulations and fuckery. Just another year of unstinting abuse ahead, just like this one.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Dreams With Motion

As I have indicated for the past three months or more, dream invasion is becoming more prevalent by the sustained (auto-bailout capabilities now defeatable) and excessively vivid and technical nature of these planted (IMHO) dreams/manipulations. And for added realism they even added a "new feature", the sensation of motion while I am in the controlled dreamstate. It wasn't anything horrid or unsavory, but it was a first, and would of likely been cause for my normally protective auto-bad dream bailout capabilities to be invoked and get me out of the dream. And too, the dream was far too technical for me to dream it up on my own, as well as overly vivid. That the pulsed erections were also "happening" in parallel was also a giveaway as this has been going on for some months, and believe me, there was no erotic content, last night or at anytime. And for those who are unaware of the imposed solitary-ness of the TI's existence, especially this one, there wasn't any corporeal erotic source either. My entire sexual nature, the little that it was, has been shut down for over five years now.

The wackos pulled a new stunt tonight at the car dealership where I do an hour cleaning job with the boss man. This older man in a suit had me lined up and I said I was the janitor's assistant and he said he knew that and then complained about the state of the washroom on the main floor, the one the boss man would of cleaned. I said I would tell the boss man, which I did, and then he said he cleaned it last night and if there was any mess it was the first few to use it. He went to find the complainant, but he didn't complain anymore. The putative cause was a book that was lying on the floor, and the complainant couldn't be bothered to pick up.

The had the Parts and Service workers still hanging around when I was about to begin cleaning, and lo, if they didn't need to pass back and forth twice just before I was about to clean the windowed door they passed through. And also, the deep metallic red Tribute with two yellow fiberglassed stringered ladders on its roofrack wasn't still there, now at least a week. This emulates a very common gangstalker vehicle configuration, the Ladder Patrol. This just happens to be parked in varying locations in the service bay and with vary ladder configurations. That was one of three red colored vehicles that were converged and arranged so I had to pass through the center of their convergence to attend to the mop bucket and garbage, at least six round trips in all. The convergence zone was about 6' wide and forced me to go underneath the one rearward projecting ladder. I could never imagine this would be a real business vehicle with it being tied up for so long with the ladders.

I had a profusion of red colored vehicles passing me by when walking to and from the car dealership tonight, getting me "prepped" for red color interaction in the dim light. I notice that the garbage room has red vehicles parked outside it and a red plastic recycle bin at least 4' tall. And lo, if they didn't put a automotive tire in the garbage room and orient it in varying orthogonal cardinalities. This is a 10 bay shop and here they are putzing around with one tire in the wrong disposal area? Pah..leasssse. And lo, if the tire didn't move by itself tonight when in that dim lit room, even if it has a windowed garage door; it shifted some 6" without the usual cover story of having me trip on it. Another stunt they pull in this garbage room is to have a vehicle outside with its headlights aimed directly through the windowed garage door just when I am there; funny how this happens so often, this pitlamping.

Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over all things made of rubber and I suppose there are varying kinds of formulations they are testing me on. Not only old tires per above, but also stacks of new ones in the Service area and the Parts area. They also arrange for at least two pairs of windshield wipers to be tossed into the garbage that I am picking up each night I work there. That might also explain why my parents haven't changed their piss-poor wiper blades on their vehicle since they acquired it 8 years ago. For the 15 years I owned my vehicle until 2006 the perps had me changing all my wiper blades each year due to "accelerated wear", but even that wasn't enough fuckery so they nicked the new ones to make them skip an arc in the windshield. What their issue is with rubber compounds is beyond me, and anyone or any organization which spends six years of rabid covert warfare in life-raping me instead of fessing up and seeking cooperation to expedite an answer is so fucking depraved and debased that it astounds me even now. And here we are, ice hockey as the Canadian national sport, which entails 12 players chasing a rubber compound 4" disc (puck), and the perps still won't come out of the closet. But as rubber is made from petroleum byproducts it suggests that this is really all about the perps' petroleum products fixation.

But the assholes weren't done with me yet; they pulled another light bulb blowout yesterday, taking up the last bulb in the package, making it four bulbs gone in one year. I stopped at the LD store on the way back to pickup some more, and the usual surge of red dressed gangtalkers and freaks was in abundance. I also bought some chocolate and a stainless steel drinking vessel that the fuckers had been bugging me to purchase. And lo, if they didn't double charge me for the stainless steel bottle which the resulted in me getting on the phone to them within a minute of unpacking the bag and looking at the reciept. So... not only a phone call at a critical time for the perps, just arriving somewhere, but it is also an exercise in taking the reciept back for whatever their interest in all these bits of paper going back and forth. Fucking pathetic, for the reasons given above.

And here is a timely piece, likely planted for topicality reasons; the unconscious brain rarely makes poor decisions. Which might explain why the perps are pumping me with bullshit scenarios and as soon as I detect "bullshit" they have a noise go off, aka, noisestalking. Unconscious thought must be a brainstem area determination as they have been whacking me with knee pain, foot jabs, nipple pinches and debris under my fingers, all highly sensitive areas and likely connected to the more primative brain regions. Plus, I get the odd maser pulse through my neck above my Adam's apple which suggests the perps are perturbing the magnetic field from below as a possible route to remotely detecting my bioenergetics of unconscious decision making. I use the term subconscious, rather than suggesting the assholes knocked me out, a better outcome if they allowed it rather that the ongoing rage-ification torment fuckery they constantly immerse me in.

An hour and 44 minutes was listening to Miriam Delicado; a contactee of the tall blondes who are watching us all and will only intervene in cataclysmic circumstances. For us conspiracists this is a different take; we can direct our future and it isn't pre-determined. I don't dwell on this too much as I cannot figure it all out with over a hundred alien species reportedly and three secret societies vying for control of NASA according to Richard Hoagland, so who knows what is really cooking. I get the overhead rumbling noise with my headphones on and especially if I am making any observations as to the veracity of her story. She is a legit contactee IMHO, one of the most articulate and credible. Though she does mention dark forces and is genuinely concerned about this. As to my scurilous tormentors I really don't which way they bat; they are fucking sick and would rather trash someone's life playing dumbass games with disappearing breadcrumbs than get off their asses and expedite this unmitigated life-rape. That sounds like the dark forces to me.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Birdseed In The Rain + 12-30-2008 updates

A Sunday night stayover at my perp abetting parent's place last night, and following the departure of my brother, sister-in-law and neice that morning. They slept in the bedroom that I slept in last night, which is my old bedroom of teenage years and also one my mother sleeps in during the week. They cannot put enough surrogates in my bed so to speak. And last night's TV watching evening seating arrangements were changed up; my father's Alzheimers act did more pacing and skulking in the adjacent hallway, often out of sight, and my mother sat beside me on the couch most uncharacteristically for the last hour of TV watching. It was also interesting that a brown plastic tray of brown chocolates was placed beside me for the 60 Minutes full one hour show dedicated to Barack Obama interviews. That the perps have a brown color fixation has been long journalled in this blog, but putting reference colors next to me while watching brown colored skinned individuals is new. Then the CBC Sunday night news came on, also in a recap format with a blonde woman in red reading the news and the red and white motif of the show. And this was the time my mother brought in the hazel and walnuts each in a red plastic mesh bags that were purchased on this past September's outing to the Okanagan wine country. Enough color symmetry for one evening and onto an early 2230h bedtime last night. (Red is also a favorite harassment/gangstaking color).

And I shouldn't of been too surprised that, yet again, an oven rack was placed in the garage and in place as a surrogate Air Loom "stalking" device to cover our arrival in the vehicle and the process of getting out of the vehicle and inside the house, a prime transition harassment scenario. Regular readers will recall from a week ago that my father was running around with the oven rack that had been cleaned overnight in the shower stall prior to my Monday shower, and was extensivley "handling it" (purportedly cleaning it for over 10 minutes, har, har) in the doorway of the house, then in the garage and then in the dining room, effectively chasing me around respectively from the extensive driveway snow removal activity, removing of my boots, and finally sitting down after the exercise. Oven racks as Air Looms, who would of suspected the perps to be so fucking blatant?

So it was this morning when I was set to go back to my place that my mother had a birdseed feeder that needed a new block of birdseed that had to be placed inside a green plastic mesh bag, and that forced a visit outside to retrieve the feeder some 10' up in the tree. That it was begining to rain wasn't too unusual as my imminent departures are often accompanied by rainfall, and this was a backyard "warmup" session it seemed. The birdseed came off the block and scattered in the kitchen to my mother's indifference, as she has a much higher tolerance for mess than I do.

I don't care for messes and the perps like to bring this to my attention much of the time, often in the form of crumb inundations that come from nowhere and arrive the instant my attention is diverted from placing each morning's toast onto my plate. And now the perps are getting to be particular, inundating me with fine brown crumbs at first and then coarser white bread crumbs later while eating the one slice of toast with peanut butter and jam on it. Once they even arranged for one loaf of bread to have the back of each slice gouged out so that not only did it offer varying thicknesses, but also served as a putative source for a large amount of crumbs. Having each slice carved out on the back refutes all the bread crumb game cover stories to date, and the prior arranged crumb and associated holes were of the "through the loaf" variety, but having the back of each slice scooped out suggests a "per slice" manipulation.

While driving into downtown this morning in my parent's vehicle I had my usual posse of color coordinated vehicles; they even put on a consort of navy blue colored vehicles ahead. There was three navy blue colored vehicles in file ahead of me in the same lane, then a silver-grey vehicle, and and then a navy blue vehicle directly in front of me. That makes four same colored blue vehicles in the same lane leading me and one seeming reference color, silver-grey. There was a black colored vehicle in the adjacent lane beside the first blue vehicle in front of me, and a white vehicle behind me in the same lane. Can I call this color coordinated and greytone referenced vehicle posse without fear of some Fuckwit claiming otherwise? I suppose I will wait to see what comments come in. And for the record, I did have a navy blue shirt on and my mother had a navy blue anorak, like a Goretex job with the teflon membrane.

When my perp abetting parents picked me up yesterday I had a Fuckwit seen-before gangstalker exit the elevator in a dark brown outfit, and then two more same brown color dressed Fuckwits on the street before the end of this residential block, and it all might be that my navy blue coat was next to a same colored brown raincoat in my closet, one I never wear for unknown reasons. The color of objects and their respective juxtapositions is coming under increasingly greater scrutiny of late, and it might be that the perps are finally starting to get the results they are looking for after 6.5 years of unmitigated life rape.

A succession of well-timed phone calls tonight; one when I was about to investigate a possible once colleague on Linked-In, then another that prompted an email search for a phone number, then another non-call (no one there), and then again with an in-town TI who got cut off as I was about to look up an address for her. The perps have managed this very scenario as to what part of the address is online, and what is in my print-out and have me flip constantly between the two of them to get this all figured out as the TI contact phone number seemed to be incorrect. All instignated by this seeming in-town TI contact who cannot get to her email and wants to bring another envelope to me, and then have me forward it on to someone else. Get all that? And did I mention that the yellow envelopes are a garden variety gangstalker prop? I have never seen so many Fuckwits running around (often literally) with white and/or yellow envelopes "to mail" in my my life as in recent months in this city thick with operatives and shills.

And I shall call this one done for the day, even if I have missed out on recounting much of it, being mostly a dull shut-in Monday, post-drop off since 1100h this morning. Even my in-town brother has me sending emails on his behalf, pleading computer and email ludditism. I never know what to believe, and find more interest in how so many of these interactions are similar; as a go-between, contacting someone for somebody else either via (yellow) envelope or email or looking them up online. Just what is it that the perps are after they had to schedule four calls tonight, two of which were cut off?

And lo, if my TI colleague didn't come by to get the above mentioned address in person (because the phone number wasn't correct) and we engage in a conversation when she plants her backpack upon this very seat that I have sat in all day, waves a yellow envelope about, needs stamps (adhesives are also a big perp interest), gives me some coins in partial payment, needs to write my desk, has a fushcia hair bob that pops in and out of view as she waves her head about and relates more TI woe, which all could be legit. And I also had to write down something on her phone bill, and she used my phone to complain to the phone company that her phone wasn't working. I also got to see some strange pictures that seemed legit; bright orbs in the sky from no seeming source. I once wondered about those solitary TI's who won't talk to anyone but now I don't; one cannot really be sure of the motives of anyone save their body of work (blogs, writings etc.), and that they may even be legit and are controlled to seem like they are not, intervening at just the right time with a full gamut of subtle incursions.

Was there enough consistency with past gangstalker feints in this event? The yellow envelopes again, using my phone after I had used it, replicating handwriting addresses on paper at the same place and manner as I had done it only 20 minutes earlier, and the sending of paper printouts to this same person again. All these are replications of last week' go-between duty, except without the visiting TI at my desk as regular readers and TI's would be familiar with.

[Postscript, 12-30-2008; the instignating event, the seeming incorrect phone number that I passed onto the local TI has been changed and the person who supplied it to me, a TI out of town, didn't think to mention this when I emailed her in advance of mediating this TI contact. And a prior instignating event was that the local TI has her email obstructed. Get all that? When too many little things go "wrong", e.g. email function, wrong phone numbers, no supplied phone number, phone service, it spells SET UP].

And did I mention that Mondays are high incursion and fuckery days? I must of somewhere, as they follow the stayover at my parent's place and all the gangstalking and feints that go down bathed in the magnetic irradiation off their CRT television, my once per week immersion in viewing this manipulative medium, never mind the collection of colors (per above), and Unfavored subjects.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Eleven Hour Sleeps

I have always slept eight hours in "normal" time, pre-overt harassment. And now, for whatever reason, these 10.5 to 11 hour sleeps are "happening" routinely. This was the time of year I got tagged with longer sleeps, say nine hours, but these extended snoozes until 1000h are absurd, never mind the imposed vivid dreams and meat aerial games that are also part of the show.

Though, in the midst of this string of extended sleep hours, there was a 0700h get-up time, a normal eight hours for no apparent reason. One wonders what the grand plan is in all of this, and when they will be left alone for good. And they will someday, that is my bottom line; mindfuck scum gone for good.

As part of the show they riled me up extra this morning with various provocations; pulling objects from my hand, flicking hot water from the kettle on the outside of the coffee pot, having me look in the wrong cupboard, crumb inundations with my one piece of toast in two sizes,- first small crumb inundation which later became a large crumb inundation as I continued to eat my peanut butter and jam on toast. And they also increased the hassle and my "reactions" to fuckery while spreading these on the toast, like they do every morning; the peanut butter, sticky as it is, somehow drops off the knife, then won't spread and lifts off, then they won't allow the knife to be cleaned of peanut butter before using it in the jam. Then the jam which was set into its normal gel state when first opened suddenly became liquid after the first time and that engenders more jam flicking, spilling and slopping, an endless game of fuckery for some asshole who oversees these extra-conventional gravitic intrusions, and of course, won't allow the jam to be cleaned off the knife before it is put down. The perps bat nearly 100% in riling me up while applying peanut butter and jam, and it is no doubt related to their preoccupation with these two colors separately and together. I reckon that this is an emulation of certain body substances and their juxtapositions and it is no exception that the perps also like to arrange brown and yellow colors in the same manner; adjacent, and then one on top of the other. And they have been at this for over 5.5 years since release from illegal incarceration and appear to be content with putzing along at this incremental rate rather than declaring their nonconsensual human experimentation agenda and getting on with expediting it in a cooperative fashion that would probably take weeks instead of years of life-trashing fuckery.

I see that my Blogger picture uploading capability is still inoperable and hence no pictures until the perps allow this feature to work. I am allowed to make links, another button stripped of its icon, but not pictures. Video upload works, but I have no videos.

I am off to my weekly First Feral Family visitation on the heels my brother, sister-in-law and neice leaving today. No doubt all the furniture movement on account of accomodating them will be of prime perp interest, but I don't really get into it all that much, tending to leave the speculative mindfuck games to the specialists.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Peanut Butter Run

I went outside for a short grocery shopping to get the national Saturday newspaper and a few things I was low on, one being peanut butter. That it is both brown colored and contains digestible oils means it is of intense perp interest. I had quite a posse with me, and they even put on a Fuckwit from my former swim club. This was the same dude who "decided" to swim with us much slower folk in the adjacent lane when he normally swims in the fast lane. It was a Sunday night and there was a paucity of other swimmers, and lo, if this dude didn't swim down the center lane doing his own routine in a bi-directional lane where we swim up one side and down the other. In other words, the rules weren't for him, and he even arranged a collision with me. I always wondered why didn't the coach admonish this act of flagrant defiance of club swim rules, and of course, the perps arranged it. He wasn't the only assigned swim club "basher", as there has been at least one in each of the two clubs I swam with.

I had my dudes around me at the checkout when on the grocery shopping tript; it seems that this is the new checkout regimen for gangstalkers. This wasn't too different than last night when my brothers and my father closed in on me at the supper table, before dinner was served. And so it was last night with the First Feral Family Boxing Day dinner, chasing me from one room to the next with these coordinated crowding acts, at least three as I recall. The perps cannot get enough of their fuckers in close to me and of course it cannot be just one person as that would entail interpersonal interaction which is not allowed. That they have me socially isolated is without question, and it fits the pattern of other TI's.

So it would seem that the perps are attempting to emulate the state of being in a crowd, and had my two brothers and father in on the act with my back to the wall. At one point during this they let me sound off on gangstalkers, and then had me accuse my father of being the fucking bastard who consented to a life of harassment and abuse. Just as I finished saying that, he turned around and gave me the stare as I was staring at him. Not only did he have exceptional hearing to pick up what I said as it wasn't loud enough to be heard at that distance IMHO, he had his timing down pat while I was staring at him, the Fuckwit Quisling of all time, consigning me to this abuse from birth. Anyhow, it was another example of why I don't buy into his supposed dementia act, as these setups and the timing are nearly always perfect. He did his gangstalking with his coat on in the house, and oddly, no one insisted that he take it off. And lo, if he didn't have a wide brimmed common gangstalking hat with him that he kept in his hands. I suppose I should call it "hat stalking" as one of my brothers was in a white ball cap and then left it behind his chair, the inside of it facing the dinner table. Presumably it was some kind of surrogate for his head and for whatever energetics it may have had. The perps have me loathing white ballcaps of late and I don't know what the significance of that is, except to note it is yet another intrusion upon my own predilections and need'nt interest any other party as it is totally harmless, assuming there is a subconcious reaction the perps are fishing for by presenting them so often.

While grocery shopping I got the second consecutive gangstalking/obstruction at the coffee grinding machine. This time a red-orange anoraked Fuckwit doing the pop-up and the headspin while I was looking at him to see if he was legitimately making use of the device. (He wasn't, and then hung around to lead me out of the store five minutes later). The perps continue to want me to make an attempt to get my selected coffee ground up, but have arranged for a Fuckwit gangstalker to be obstructing it when I want to use it. I don't why they are doing this now, but doing it at late evening hours and now daylit hours seems to be part of the game, never mind the Redcoat obstruction.

I am getting extensive plasma fuckery on this new 22" LCD panel; various off-horizontal bands of yellows and purples are in a constant flux along with the blackish filamentous masers that are now always visible in some form. Which might be the reason they decided I needed a new bigger monitor, all the more to flash in my face.

An evening of troving through saved bookmarks passed by, often with some odd Windows/Firefox behavior such as the bookmark folder/category being supplied instead of me choosing it. This happened at least five times, and the second part of the process is to delete the bookmark from the Unsorted folder after it being bookmarked in an appropriate classified folder. And lo, if "someone" hadn't deleted the very bookmark I was to delete before I could return to the bookmark manager page. Most fascinating to have this "done for me", and correctly even. Small wonders never cease.

It is time to call this one done and post this, dull as it has been.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Dreaming of a Plasmic Christmas

Another 10.5 hour sleep like yesterday, and some extra vivid dreams in an academic environment for the last run before waking. The meat aerial games are still continuing, through dreams and likely earlier in the night while in deeper sleep.

The perps have created another dingey apartment by some kind of ambient light manipulations as well as adding some kind of plasmic hash everywhere I look, this speckled appearance to everything, and most evident in the darker areas.

It was another First Feral Family Christmas dinner yesterday, and I get to reprise it again tonight with my ex and daughter added on as part of family gangstalking. I got some gifts even, though only the chocolate was of any use, the rest of it, e.g. four glass tumblers for chrissakes, is headed to the charity when they open up. And they would all know exactly what I needed per the mindfuck intermediaries/scriptors, but instead, it was a "gift toss-out" Christmas.

Though to be fair, my mother did give me a big check, but only half the price of the cost of the recent eyelasses that she promised to subsidize in full. Another case of "fuck and suck"; make the promise, incur expense (mine), and then only deliver a small portion of the promised subsidy. Been there, done that, and so I start the New Year running a tab on Mastercard for the first time in three years. Oh lucky me. That might mean getting a springtime job picking flowers on the farm in the driving rain and fighting off the thieves who increase their piecemeal rates while busy flower picking. It seems that there is enough financial adversity without going through this exercise and I hope it doesn't come to that. But I am sure the perps want me to make another geographic visitation, given that it is a big deal for the assholes to have me return to past sites, even decades later.

The Feral Family shenanigans that were scripted last night was some new, some old. My father did his Alzheimer's act again by wandering around with his navy blue coat on in the house and doing his posing in the doorframe between the living room and the dining room. He is constantly doing this, so consistent that it is either controlled of not the dementia at all. I got up and closed the door twice last night to end this visually at least. Then in another wandering from the dinner table he returned with blood stains on his pants and that was seen and then incurred another absence from both my parents to clean up this mess. I reckon this red fluid excess was in lieu of the near-tradition of red wine spilling which did not happen in a rare instance of perp charity. Then two hours later, my mother gave me the check for Christmas, and lo if she didn't have a bloodied white napkin in her other hand for some strange reason, and didn't explain much about it when I mentioned it. Regular readers will know that I am constantly besieged with harassment at the moment of financial transactions, be it by way of ATM, online purchases, checkout purchases, writing and mailing checks, in cash or other forms. So it would seem that the perps "needed" a blood sample at the time of financial transaction (giving me a check), and what could be better than an accompanying blood sample from a family member at that same instant, all wrapped up into a bullshit dementia act. It is fucking pathetic, be it an act or not, and my father blows his cover the odd time I have mentioned this to him.

I did read recently that one's blood has magnetic properties, and that since the perps contain me in a densified magnetic field (measured at over 200 gauss in 12-2002), it isn't a surprise that they are consumed with it, and also with the color red. And so it came to pass on Christmas Day that my E. Indian sister-in-law, a very nice person with whom I get along with (more than my two brothers combined), changed from her black top and black and grey with red fleck skirt to a bold red color top and deep navy bluejeans for the last 1.5 hours while visiting. More red color sampling says me, and as this is written I am getting the well-known poor whistling in the hallway. More like air surging than whistling, and is likely augmented if coming from a real person rather than being totally faked. And I do get this strange bullshit whistling act when at checkouts.

That I find the bullshit whistling so annoying must relate to the fact that the perps make me over reactive to this blatant fuckery, as it never bothered me before, but its public frequency has increased by at least an order of magnitude from the pre-overt harassment days until 04-2002.

I had the same Feral Family crush around me as the day before when about to depart from the parent's place last night, with my mother scooting away upstairs instead. The day before yesterday she had immediately sat down in my former location on the couch, claiming the spot within a half minute when she was already seated. My out-of-town brother did his get-too-close act again while I was putting on my coat, but thankfully the perps didn't make me run to the next room to "avoid" it like the day before. And as part of his social distance incursion, he had his mouth hanging open and was looking 90 degrees offset, pretending there was something compelling about the closet door jamb. Regular readers will know that "open mouthing", personal space encroachment and clustering around me are all long standing public gangstalking methods, and so it isn't very different with the First Feral Family, even on Christmas Day. What should I call Festive Fuck Day, Merry Gangstalking, Feral Fuckover Day or perhaps just plain Sick Asshole Day, aka SAD? The Feral Family Quisling sociopathic clusterfuck perhaps?

The perps fucked another Christmas Day stunt out of mind and only let me remember just now. The faucet on the kitchen sink broke and that entailed one brother lying on the cupboard bottom surface while attempting to repair it with his tools that he had brought down. And the rest of us cleaned up and even threw out the accumlated and never used cleaners and objects as part of the stunt. I learned via phone call that none of the dishes were done until mid-morning when a new faucet was acquired and installed by my out-of-town brother who is staying there. And have I mentioned how often the perps harass and jerk me around while doing the dishes? Not lately perhaps, but it is a high noisestalked event, and they must of had a great time doing their remote energy reading games for all the dirty dishes of the First Feral Family having a meal together. Regular readers will know that I have suffered past plumbing "problems" with the drain water from the kitchen sink, and so it would seem that this episode was another stunt for all of us to be "involved" in. And too, that the perps had my brother lying down on the ground for 40 minutes or so attending to the sink might also be an emulation of the (now) often vagrants who are lying down on the street as I pass by. And also, the transition from vertical to horizontal or vice versa is a highly noisetalked event, suggesting the perps are plumbing for more deep neural energetics detection.

Army Orders Pain Ray Trucks; a news trinket I found online recently. Been there, done that, having a pain beam directed at me wherever I was and only protected by proximity to metal objects. Could this be a large scale application of the same harassment/torture? Who knows, but I do wonder why they are "outing" themselves on this, except perhaps to bring it to some kind of congnitive awareness that will then allow the perps to delete any knowledge of such a device, even if directly experienced and witnessed. Not unlike "forgetting" the litany of lies that spew from my mother, the latest detailed above.

And if true, then it is evident that the police state is here sooner rather than later; an Ohio food cooperative gets raided by a military SWAT team for some hours for no genuine reason except to disrupt and fuck with them. I suggest a darker motive, and that is to allow a perp compliant group to tear the place apart while the real perps measure the energetics of the goings on from a remote location, knowing that a food cooperative splits the same food order among all its members, and theoretically, should all have similar digestive energetics separately. If I were in that food cooperative, I would review my recent past and look for any telltale signs of remote harassment, strange goings on, associates going weird and a host of other "bad luck" that fits the perp's agenda. It is a black day indeed that a food cooperative gets military attention for doing utterly nothing illegal, and hopefully this will get the military shut out of civilian activities unless invited by the state governor. That won't happen, because it is continuing on another front, "aiding" the civilian police "observing" drunk driving checks.

California: U.S. Marines to Staff Vehicle Checkpoint Along with Law Enforcement Agencies. Right here, and brazenly pimping themselves on the street under the guise of "assistance". I do wonder what the perps get out of this, except as some kind of precursor event to ready us for a more common occurence and then to be able to mindfuck the populace into "accepting" this as OK. Us TI's get a ringside seat to the perp's interests and possible intents, and of course never have the credibility to warn anyone, assuming those who we warn aren't also mindfucked in accepting state transgression of civil liberties. The Patriot Act runs over 500 pages and was brought into Congress withing three weeks of 9/11, or so I believe. I don't think any patriot could be so well prepared. The real mettle of Obama is if he will rescind the Patriot Act in its entirety, but I am not optomistic, despite his "change" mandate he expresses.

Now that the streets are largely clear of snow, the excuse of less outside vehicle traffic noise has diminished. As part of that, there is a sudden profusion of loud mufflered vehicles today; hotrods, badly maintained mufflers and "performance" mufflers. I predict within a day, the Harley motorcycle noises will also ramp up and it will be the imposed normal again. The final silliness is the Vespa noise, that high pitched scooter tha sounds like a buzzing insect.

My Blogger commands are still being messed with and the button to add pictures is bing obstructed while adding videos, which I don't have, isn't.

Wall Street’s Night Before Christmas; a Christmas tale of our times it would seem. These are some links that I had saved and am unloading, though as always, I have the readership in mind and hope it serves as some king of rare humor for any TI's that read this journal. Having one's life invaded and fucked with at every instant of the day, including sleep, tends to end the notion of humor if of organic reaction and not a planted "reaction" that is true in my case.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Merry Ceiling Pounding

That is the holiday "spirit" so to speak when in the circumstances of a TI, noisestalking being predominant this Christmas Day morning. A thundering overhead pounding (this being a concrete and steel constructed apartment block, 12" thick between floors), came on directly overhead when in the kitchen at breakfast, and then again the instant the first wafer of chocolate was placed in my mouth of the 100g bar they like me to have three times per day. Regular readers will know that the perps are fixated by all things colored brown, especially bodily contents of that color, and when brown food is only 1'' away from the brain when in one's mouth, and said operatives are involved in mind control research, why, it a joyous occasion to make thundering noise to then track the color interaction while said vibrations (noise) are still resonating through one's skull. This is not a seasonal skirmish/celebratory event by any means; it only serves to show that Dec. 25 is yet another day of fucking abuse and harassment, like any other since 04-15-2002.

And lo, if my in-town brother didn't time his rare phone call to wish me merry Christmas (oddly, for him) and cue up some possible travel arrangements to the home of the First Feral Family for later today exactly when the last piece of breakfast chocolate was dissolving in my mouth. I maintain that electromagnetic devices can be co-opted for remote use to detect bioenergetic interactions, and this is borne out by the strategic timing of every phone call at high harassment interest moments for the past six years. The perps seem to be able to remotely detect bioelectromagnetic interactions with that of the telephone and its associated make-up of electrical parts, plastics, metals, wires and of course, color, also of intense perp interest. Which might explain why three landline telephones have "expired" for no reason since overt harassment began. And too, the cell phoning Fuckwit gangstalkers that blatantly follow me about, especially through transitions in travel direction (in vehicle or walking), from mode of transport (e.g. getting off the city bus, exiting or entering vehicles), or egress from buildings.

And if my out-town-brother, sister-in-law and neice are visiting, whom I saw yesterday for dinner and a ride to and from, then it only means that the harassment, abetted by them, is of continuing at full steam ahead. There were some mighty curious goings on when it was time to go; while putting my coat on I was "herded" (personal space encroaching brother and compelling "need" to move away, into the living room where the TV was on, and my mother had immediately (and uncharacteristically) appropriated where I had been sitting for the past two hours). And a strange silence and seeming complicitness, where the script seemed to either fall flat, or some kind of allowed cognitive awareness was allowed to ponder this sudden familial silence.

Another ongoing food interest of the perps was sharing tree nuts last night, the ones purchased in Cawston, BC when on September's week outing with the First Feral parents. I suspect the perps apparent interest in geographic origins, of anything or anybody, might have something to do with this. That is, we family members ingest nuts from a specific geographic location that was visited by three family members and the perps attempt some kind of energetic correlation among all of us, including those that didn't eat any.

It is time to post this for today, as I will be getting a ride in less than an hour to join in the family Christmas events, such as they will be contrived and scripted. Last night my brother was sitting beside me on the couch and had the unerring knack for inserting his head in the line of sight just when talking to his wife, someone whom I can talk to in greater breadth and depth than the rest of them, even if an in-law. This head blocking has also taken place at bus stops when looking for the incoming bus a woman was doing the same thing, and more notably this past summer when on the daffodil bulb picking crew and talking to the foreman, the rare person on the crew I was conversant with. I don't know why the perps do head blocking, but it might be likely that as our heads serve as a fount of etheric energies, it just might be a way to insert more interference energies along with changing one's visual field.

And as I typed the above paragraph a round of new-today noisestalking erupted, so even mentioning the "ether" word begets a first-today round of imposed typo/keystroke dithering. Who would be interested in that I wonder. It is time for tea and chocolate, and no doubt all of this is arranged for maximal First Feral Family gangstalking possibilities for the reasons the SS (Surepticious Sickos) find so fixating. And I am sure that Santa won't grant my wish to take a baseball bat to an SS abettor after screaming in their face as to their feckless quisling behavior, but that would mean the perps wouldn't be controlling me, and they couldn't allow that to happen, could they?

I can be sure of being controlled anytime I put my fingers to my ears and with this greater bone/skull contact, it sounds like a radio room in a military installation, all the low volume level cheeping, beeping and static. Only on the odd occasion do I get a sudden shift in ear-ringing frequecies when listening normally, no applied fingers to my ears.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

New LCD Panel

The big excitement for the perps was the arrival and fraught set up of my new 22" LCD panel. As I type this, the snow shovel banging is continuing, and before that it was a supposed steer skid tractor to move the snow about. The latter seemed like a noise event, as I never saw it working and looked a number of times. The sirens also came on to join in, at least two cascades. Most of the elevated noise levels were the "usual" kind; overhead pounding that tracked me from desk to kitchen when having tea and chocolate after the install, then heavy duty vehicles were idling outside, then 15 seagull were careening about in flight with a full noise repetoire, a file of 10 or so gangstalkers was on the sidewalk on the snow with one of them walking by the group, thumpy "neighbor" stereo noise also joined the fray, outside male voices and a few others that cannot be recalled.

As usual, it was a nonstop hassle to put this new monitor together; cables became tight, the instructions were terrible and didn't follow the Windows standard, and the entire process of keeping me hyperalert while another jerkaround comes along is just too tempting for the assholes to pass up. That is the way it goes with the Fuckwits; everything new has to be a hassle, and even routines get totally jerked with. And this new LCD monitor is huge compared to a 15" predecessor, and intensely bright as well, with the native menu commands seeming to be mysteriously disfunctional. Bigger than Christmas it would seem, this new monitor, and offering all manner of stunt opportunities by way of stretching the fonts, adding in extra whitespace, then coloring the whitespace a light blue, and last, but not least, a big oversized 1/2" long blue on/off switch that is brightly lighted all the time. With a blue glow to the PC switch, and now this one on the LCD panel, they seem to be adding more bright colors into my peripherial vision as constant references. The good thing is no more horizontal scrolling; this has become a huge pain in the ass, and many of the regular websites had increased their text display width to create this hassle of late. I will have to see how all this goes, and I am sure acquiring new progressive lens eyeglasses about two weeks ago also fits some kind of related agenda with respect to this monitor display, associated text display and the rest of it. And too, with no digital display, that might be the next upgrade some day, hopefully when I can afford it this time. An acquisitional gloat, in part, all the above I am ashamed to say as some TI's don't have a regular place to call home, never mind the bling to fill it. Such is Christmas in TI Land; it is a indulgence for the complicit and the ignorant compared to these circumstances of constant duress.

Another siren cascade as I am about to blog off for now, through the earmuffs even.

More games and stunts tonight at my one hour per day job; the paper towel rolls somehow tumbled down on me and slightly sprained my right thumb, bringing back an injury they arranged in 1964 by way of brotherly rambunciousness. Only a slight sprain tonight, and matches my right small toe sprain that came from nowhere yesterday. The boss man finally let me in on the intensity of the work he was expecting, rather than rattling on as to how the job would only take 45 minutes when it took 75 minutes. This is a car dealership and it affords all the props the perps have been using for the last six years, specifically vehicular gangstalking. I have long noted the one component of the vehicular gangstalkers as the "Ladder Patrol" as they are often packing an excess of ladders on vehicles that are not even of a commercial nature, and often in sequential configurations that also involve varying ladder stringer compositions and colors. There are wood ladders, aluminum, non conductive fiberglass in yellow and an orange-red color. And for the last three days in the Service shop there has been a deep metallic red colored Mazda Tribute, same as a Ford Escape (parent's have this vehicle), with a pair of yellow fiberglass stringered ladders on it. The first night they even put one ladder exactly over the yellow painted concrete which denotes a caution area for a steeper slope in the concrete floor. Mighty accurate placement to say the least, and for the last two work evenings plus an off-day in between, both ladders have been on the roof rack, one cantilivered off the rear of the Tribute by 6'. It would seem to be another (oddly) extended "service job" on a common gangstalk vehicle color and configuration that just doesn't match the expectable (mine at least) reality of a busy downtown car dealership. There will be more yellow fiberglass stringered ladders parking outside my apartment soon, if the past is prologue.

All the automotive black body panel parts are ususally wrapped in brown paper or cardboard and many are rotated around in the parts section in differing orthogonal orientations along with the strange but persistent presence of two grocery shopping carts, the faux vagrant on-sidewalk "vehicle" of choice to deliver black plastic bags full of recycling returns, pop cans, plastic bottles etc. Regular readers will know that the perps are consumed with presenting brown colors and that they seem to view corrugated cardboard as their greatest leverage in impressing my (seeming) subconcious with the neutrality of this particular brown hue. A primer on the perp's brown color fixation is here. And yes, I did extra lugging of cardboard boxes today at work, and not forgetting that this very LCD panel is fresh from being packed in a brown cardboard box with white styrofoam inserts. An all-out brown cardboard show that was later eclipsed by the blondes.

They put on at least a dozen blonde women on my 10 minute walk back from the car dealership; through the window of a restuarant, a pair on the street doing seeming shopping, one just "hanging around" in the same dark and unpopulated corner as one last week in the same circumstances with her young son, both most strange that any woman would put themselves in this situation, putzing around in the dark on the periphery of downtown. And a final blonde driving from a parking lot to cross my path some 8' in front of me. Then an Asian show at my apartment; two coming out when I was entering, and then another showed up on my tail on his cell phone, and takes the adjacent elevator at nearly the same time I was taking one. The elevator control logic has been changed of late to have both open on the main floor when only one would open for all passengers. Thankfully, he wasn't exiting when I got to my floor, though who knows what is going on the instant I exit the situation. And for those irregular readers, brown skin tones are as much as part of the "brown stalking" as cardboard boxes; see the above linked posting to the right to get up to speed on this if you wish. (The role of blondes as gangstalkers, that is, attractive female blondes even in dimly lit situations and/or fleeting glances, seems to be as "starter stalkers", or as I usually refer to them as members of the few Favored demographic groups which often precede Unfavored groups, the latter partially characterized by brown skin tones). I don't mean to incite any kind of racial friction, but only relate this as a matter of observation that may have some basis as long ago traumatizations that remain in my subconcious, the reason these varying "brown elicitations" are arranged and/or paraded in my proximity. (See the lastmost link for a possible perp rationale).

Time to call this one done for now, and wonder what else the Fuckwits brought me for Christmas, that illusion/delusion that has long been dispensed with as most TI's can attest.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Slush On

A very late start to my daily blogging endeavor, and especially that it is a Monday when I return from staying at the home of the perp abetting parents Sunday night. All that in-family gangstalking, including my supposed demetia afflicted father (an act I am sure) doing an Air Loom stunt by wandering around with the oven racks and ensuring he got good coverage in my various activities this morning. Supposedly, he is too lunched to do anything, but he started cleaning the oven racks as they had soaked overnight in the bathtub, the very same location where I had a shower just after they were pulled out. So... after having said shower I helped my mother flip and haul matresses about in preparation for my out-of-town brother, sister-in-law and neice to arrive tomorrow, and then shovelled snow from the driveway for the second time in two days. I had cleared the driveway the evening before, and it took at least two hours for the heavy snow that it was, nearly 12". Today, there was an additional 5" to remove, and even my mother came out to help, in a sort-of gangstalking optimized way. And when about 90% done, my father opens the front door and is cleaning the oven racks "for some reason". There wasn't any legitimate rationale, and so it appeared to be blatant gangstalking moves, per the Air Loom Gang, a 200 year old gangstalking and harassment case where the perpetrators used a portion of a loom, the metal wires set in a wood frame. Then when I put away the shovel in the garage, the supposed dementia act walked across the front of the house (outside) to then "expose" me to the oven rack in his hand. Then when in the house, this supposed dementia patient then passes by with the oven rack yet again. Finally I retreated to the living room and closed the doors and that was the end of the Oven Rack Fuck.

This all started last night when my mother "needed" to clean the oven with its self-cleaning feature, and it "needed" to be pulled out from the counter and placed in the middle of the kitchen to do its self-cleaning, and add an aroma of smoke into the household air, all the way up the bedroom, even if the door was closed and the window cracked open some. I get my once-per-week TV viewing at my parents place; local news for an hour, Vancouver news from Global and the blonde meteorologist that they like me to see and hear, 60 Minutes, Doc Martin, CBC Sunday Night news program and then fill in the blanks. In the lastmost case it was the last 30 minutes of Five Easy Pieces with a very young Jack Nicholson. I couldn't get the gist of this movie, save that it was bleak. Then onto bed where I got fucked into a 10 hour sleep again, and then into the above mentioned oven rack chase.

This was the second Monday in succession where I had snow removal duties at my parent's place, and then proceeded on the city bus freakshow in the afternoon, and again, it was packed to the gills with the driver not stopping for many passengers/gangstalkers.

I got my bright clashing red and orange dressed Fuckwit woman in the seat in front of me just like last time, and my seatmate, when the "surge" of gangstalkers decided to finally populate the empty seat beside me, put on a brown down coated dude who proceeded to take his coat off, then his sweater, and kept his dark navy shirt on thankfully. Then he got out his book and began reading but keeping his closest arm extended into the seat space in front of us. Talk about silly, perverse and socially rude, this dude had it all. These extened arm stunts have gone on in the past, and normally are arranged for shorter durations. Then about a minute before my stop he gets a cell phone call, and when I ask him to excuse me to get into the aisle, he proceeds me still on his phone call, packing his clothes he removed, and proceeds out of the bus ahead of me. I haven't had a so blatant "fellow traveller" as this, but as Mondays are Big Fuckover days, and the perps are less interested in maintaining a cover story, this was the new blatant version of the Fellow Traveller stunt. Once off the bus that wasn't the end of the asshole. He caught up to me at the nearest pedestrain traffic signal, now fully dressed, and proceeded across the two orthogonal crosswalks ahead of me.

And as it "so happened" the rest of the gang was all over the three blocks it was to walk back to my place. This isn't exactly a high street where I live, only grocery store, drug store, Starbucks and a few restaurants. But no matter, the freakshow was out in abundance including the motorized wheelchair act, now on the roadway instead of stalking me on the sidewalk.

There were also large numbers of gangstalkers out when heading to the one hour cleaning job that I am doing, heavy on the plastic bag toting as a primer for the plastic bag handling I do as part of the job.

There has been a bunch of other games and fuckery as well; an extended phone call with a supposed local TI who isn't terribly convincing, timed for when I got all my clothes put away after getting back, a high Fuckover and Harassment moment. Other games were apparent when doing yesterday's and today's snow shoveling when at the edge of the concrete driveway and the ashphalt roadway outside my parent's place. The perps cannot get enough gangstalking assholes and vehicles near me at the concrete-ashphalt interface as I call it. Most road surfaces in this city are asphalt and sidewalks are concrete. Regular readers will know that I have blogged about the perps long standing extra attention (gangstalkers, extra-conventional gravitic fuckery, mindfuck stunts) when in the presence of petroleum products (tankers, gasoline filling via hose, Vasoline (parked on the windowsill at my parent's place for no observed need, etc.)). And so it is with asphalt; the sickos cannot get enough of me transitioning from one surface material (concrete or asphalt usually) to another. Hence, the predominance of supposed homeless acts that are sleeping on these surfaces when I pass by.

Some revelling in conspiracy here; this fascinatong piece "Inside The L(aurel)C(anyon): The Strange but Mostly True Story of Laurel Canyon and the Birth of the Hippie Generation Part I". A tale that seems well researched and casts a rather shady picture of our 1960's rock scene, hippies and the antiwar movement that all spilled into later decades, and even now. It is even scary how there were, and still are, so many military associations with the rock scene's founders and major players. And too, possibly associated goings on in major crime stories, the Manson Family murders, Sharon Tate being the most known. I haven't finished reading it all, and I am making an exception in being drawn into Illuminati stories. My reluctance is just that the topic of controlling bloodlines and secret societies is so huge that I don't want to go there as I have plenty enough on my plate. The reality is that I might be headed into the "Illuminati scene" by way of their possible association with overarching control of governments (e.g. TI harassment cuts across boundaries of countries, races and languages), and of manipulation of historical events (e.g. FDR locking up his naval advisor to ensure the US forces were unaware that Pearl Harbor was about to be attacked).

Late, the next day now, but the above link goes for over 10 parts and is fascinating in its complexity and the social web of show and music business and military families. This one is done for yesterday.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Short Post

I will be setting off in the new snow from last night via city bus to my parent's place shortly, hence nothing too much to divulge. And now, a forced pee break........

And also, a blood spot erupted from the left side of my face, in that long familiar location of similar stunts, 1" from the left corner of my mouth, and that entailed the use of the steptic pencil to staunch any more force bleeding.

And back to the forced pee break; even starting to write a blog posting is an exciting moment for the perps, and hence a forced pee to disrupt this effort at a key moment for them. And too, the ambient lighting was substantially dimmer when I got out of the bathroom some 3 minutes later. It has been a cloudy day so far, and there was no change in outside weather conditions to account for this imposed "dim down", a feature of most afternoons at this time of year it seems. And that I have my earmuffs on to prevent hearing this whine noise that has erupted, the putative reason being that it is running water in (faux) neighbor's pipes, a notion long repudiated by the nature of the noise, its timing, and re-occurence in at least the last five residence locations, along with the strange use patterns, e.g. on-off, cycling multiple times. I don't know of any sane individual who would run their kitchen water faucet that way. This same noise erupted from the other side of the apartment just before retrieving the laundry from the laundry room, covering me inside at this PC before I shut it down, my egress in the hallway in both directions, and during the sorting, folding and placement in my drawer. Regular readers will know that the perps are fixated upon laundry, and have plotted many stunts and games as part of the exercise, and have gone as far as to support my out-of-town brother in running commercial laundromats.

Other laundry excitement for the perps was that they had me wake up after an extended and imposed 10.5 hour sleep, and the timing was such that the after I finished folding and sorting laundry it was time for lunch. This "happens" about 90% of the time on laundry days, having a meal immediately following doing laundry in the morning. And it so happened last night that I "forgot" to have dinner last night after I got back from the cleaning job at the car dealership. Normally, my stomach reminds me of such events like anyone else, but in these constrained and directed circumstances hunger is not allowed to present itself especially when food intake perturbs the perp's remote energetics studies upon me and all my thoughts and autonomous physiological processes.

Time to call this one done.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Lattes on Snow

Yes, it is the Coffee Corps again, chasing me around town with brown colored substances, and today, with the benefit of lingering snow on the sidewalks, they have tossed lattes onto the snow along my path when doing my one and only Christmas shopping. That is, they have placed puke brown splotches on my route, and ensured they were all added today, as there were none around on the same route after the abortive shopping trip yesterday. And too, there were some lattes spilled on bare pavement cleaned of snow, all to provide some kind of color reference between on snow and on bare sidewalk puke brown splotches. Need I remind regular readers that my tormentors are fixated on introducing me to the color of brown, in all its hues and tones, but only in small amounts. A full on brown vehicle is a rare sight, and even the light metallic brown vehicles come with a posse of greyscale toned vehicles around them. They did put on a dark brown down coated Fuckwit ahead of me at one store today, but that was only an transient situation before he disappeared into the crowd there. So, onto Lululemmon for a gift certificate where they were comparatively few gangstalkers. This is the store they fucked me out of knowing where it was yesterday, and I was within 20m of it.

Then on the way back, another Coffee Corps dude was on me, bearing his green cardboard tray with a coffee and then tailing me for a block, taking a short cut through a parking lot, and ending up on my tail again after I had turned 90 degrees. This is twice in two days this same fuckery has "happened"; a tail, thought to be long gone, reprises again for more unabashed following. I don't think the CIA would do something so obvious, and I am no international spy if that helps clear up any confusion.

And twice in two days, when W. bound on Yates St., and only a block apart, I get an vehicular rundown attempt; some Fuckwit blows by a red light and turns a right corner crossing my path ahead of me, timed for extra closeness because that is the current perp mandate. And also of note, in both instances I was the only person at the intersection who was about to be rundown. That takes real planning as there is usually a surfeit of gangstalkers around me at every street corner. I have seen assigned drivers blowing yellow and even red lights, and that now applies to city buses too. This seems part of the games to limit the vacancy time in a given public location; having a perp sponsored vehicle arranged to keep running red lights, intersection after intersection. Yet more public beserkness that erupted in this town, post 2002 when this life rape began.

And I am due to do my cleaning job earlier tonight at the Pacific Mazda dealership, before I eat dinner. I expect plenty of extra-conventional gravitic fuckery tonight to keep me riled up while working alone. Back to the vocalization "need" after being provoked by dirt, sand or other debris magically arriving after I have cleaned up an area. It is getting fucking tiresome to say the least. And those long used brown Douglas fir (conifer) needles that erupted all over my apartment in my hiking days are making a "comeback" as portable brown color references for the just-cleaned surfaces,- floors, counters, tables etc. Regular readers and TI's will know that the perps bring on their greatest harassment of me just before eating a meal. The digestion process and its attendant color changes are still bedeviling the perps for them to remotely detect these, and hence, forced delay of mealtime to continue the fuckery for longer. And I suppose the dusk onset will be occuring then, another perp silly season of each day.

The perps are still all over me with extra noise, forced farts, extra-gravitic fuckery, plasma and maser beams during color changes in my proximity. Examples of these color changes would be making the bed, putting clothes on or off, steeping of tea, making coffee (peculiar differentials in brown tones), flushing the toilet with its contents, and others which don't come to mind at the moment.

I thought something exceptional was going to happen tonight with the "no dinner" work session, and lo, I was not dissapointed. The mopping bucket "went missing" and I went all over the building for 15 minutes looking to no avail. This is the lastmost, but important activity of our janitorial work. It culminates all our efforts and means that we usually don't walk there anymore for fear of tracking more filth on the floors. I made preparations to clean a sink of grease to we could put our mops in it, but later, as it "so happened", the downstairs business returned it. It was a surprise to say the least, and a fucking waste of time. The parts dude was even still there, and he "helped" to look for a time in his black leather jacket and his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Another character from a bad movie it would seem.

It was an early start to work as the business closed early for their Christmas party; I arrrived at 1600h, and they seemed pleased about that, apart from the odd look from the blonde as if to say, "poor man". Which really means that I am to interpret this, and it seems that blondes have been exercising more strange looks of late. This being part of the perp's "blonde stalking"; have them put on more stern, if not hostile looks, even if there is no interaction whatsover, just passing by. I noticed this two weeks ago on the Sunday Global TV news hour; XYZ (the station's web site is now without pictures) looked very stern/pissed off when giving the news for the entire show, and the next week she was putting on the smiles and charm.

And why is it happening so often that when someone is going to divulge a big story they end up expiring beforehand? Karen Silkwood was the first known instance of this "fluke" association, and now Carl Rove's email burying computer systems administrator was having a crisis of confidence and he ends up deceased through an supposed aircraft accident. There is just too many of these events going on to be anything but arranged IMHO. This story from At Largely tells of Mike Connell and Larisa Alexandrovna is careful not to call this a conspiracy like any responsible journalist. Call me irresponsible if you like, but after finding out that nothing in my life was unarranged (it seems, especially since 2002), then one comes to the realization that one can be manipulated and commandeered much like a mechanical object without so much as a clue that it was happening, just as I write this. If the perps can have me drive down a one-way street in the wrong direction in one example, then at another time, have me resume driving through a red light after stopping at it, (other road traffic cleared in both instances), and even have me start to cross a street on foot when there is an oncoming vehicle, (they had me stop and turn back), then anyone can be mindfucked into any actions whatsover, as even the concept of one's own personal safety can also be remotely manipulated.

Call me a conspiracist if that helps, but I didn't become one until immersed in this outrageous mind and life raping exercise and was led to a number of coincidences as to the arrangement of my circumstances with other events in the news. I think there is far more manipulation of events going on that we realize. My high school physics teacher responded to a question once, saying "if you control gravity, you control the entire world". Well, guess what; I see and experience extra-conventional gravitic manipulations every day, and it is dynamically applied, often in response to what I am doing at the time. And should I go off script and be in a position to say, get through a door faster than they planned, I will find myself dithered as to which key is what and expend cognitive effort in a never before way, attempting to figure out what key goes where when this was basic knowledge. The last time something like that happened was in 2005.

And I see that my featureless icon bar in Blogger has become more disfunctional, as the provision for inclusion of pictures has been messed with. Yesterday's photos might be the last ones for a while as Blogger has been slowly degraded on me.

More manipulations; throat clearing for no reason and then coincident street shouting starts up. Then a forced fart with the armrests of my chair clicking away, one on each side, and no matter if I wasn't leaning on them at the time. These "self clicking" armrests have started doing this since 2004 and my complaints about the lack of authenticity have falled on deaf ears.

I am being rendered restless and without activity to do; it seems that the perps like to have me be idle, and yet be restless at the same time. I have never figured out their need to enforce no work periods; many a summer job had a spell where there was absolutely nothing to do, often covered up as weather downtime (couldn't fly the only vehicle, the helicopter) or as crewing problems. It is totally bizarre, and I won't suggest for a minute that today's deteriorating economy is planned by the perps, but they are certainly able to readily capitalize on events that might not have their fingerprints on them.

I got lost in a digital photography site, getting my knowledge of these updated, though I don't expect to be purchasing one, ever. My one Panasonic camera that "survived" the street assault must be my assigned camera for the perps. I have no complaints, and the hobby might interest me if I get all my archive pictures scanned one day. The same deal though; nothing much is affordable at current disability allowance, no matter how one cuts it. And the perps just love to run their victims into debt, and I just might pull out of it in a year if current trends continue of having a 1 hr. x 6 day per week job.

Enough of this rambling, and time to sign off.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Christmas in Virtual Prison

I just had this deleted on me between browser tab changes so here it goes again; the John Prine song, Christmas in Prison comes to mind after being fucked with in terms of knowin where the store is that I set off for to purchase a gift certificate my daughter for Christmas. The only fucking Christmas shopping I do, and the assholes fucked my identically as last year in the same circumstances.This is the way it seems when one is not allowed to find the store one set out for, and there are all the freaks of the Unfavored demographic groups that have come out to accompany me along with the strange aggregations of vehicles. I am still at my apartment, and I was not taken anywhere and nor was I in contact with any LEO (Law Enforcement Officers) or such like.

A day full of arranged sirens, noises of no known (or seen sources), the odd overhead clunking or pounding, protracted brake squealings and many others. They even put on the 1960's siren sound with the modern day version as part of a multi-siren cascade. As is nearly always the case, no actual vehicles were seen or detected as the source, and an abrupt end to all of them, which may have been timed to a web page change, I cannot recall exactly, probably because recollection of these details is getting dithered all the more of late. Part of the designed cluelessness they keep me in, as if a lifetime wasn't enough.

And too, they have been infuriating me more, aka rage-ification, and let me yell louder and longer. Usually they constrict my throat so I don't get good yelling volume, but today, they want louder ragings. And always in response to some dumbshit stunt; the shaving bleeding fuckery hit new levels of annoyance by blocking the steptic pencil from working twice in succession; a literal bloody mess. Any doable alternative to prevent this, like not shaving in this location they keep creating lesions in, is not allowed and doesn't "come to mind".

Then another skunk trip to downtown where they had me looking in the wrong location for this store, and had me give up with no alternate choices allowed. It was a full-on freakshow; though the shiftless males seemed to be in abundance. They even did a shiftless male Fuckwit emerging from the mailbox area as I walked in the building's front door, and then, only 6' away, out comes a blonde from the elevators looking extremely pissed and grim, and in true gangstalker style, gives me the stare for some bizarre reason. So in effect, the shiftless male in a mid-grey jacket passes me on the right side, and the blonde on the left side. The "split couple" gangstalking ploy, except these were made out to be disparate Fuckwits.

I am getting some extreme head pains as I am writing this, and yelling at the assholes isn't helping this time. A blogging cessation for now.

I have just finished my afternoon tea, with chocolate, and I note that a "suck truck" has arrived outside on the street and is making a horrific noise. It is located at the sewerline manhole that the perps like to visit every so often, which I suspect, is connected to this here apartment building. Was it not that they put this on when I had returned from seven days away, and after taking my first crap in the toilet since getting back, that they had the "suck truck" on the job then, and for at least two days plus other goings on at the same manhole. And don't forget, they ripped up most of the adjacent block's street to lay in new sewer pipes and then buried them under 2' of concrete and then put the road base gravel on top of that, to then compact it and then finally pave. Regular readers will know that the perps are constantly preoccupied with my bodily wastes, and the attendant colors. Hence, the imposed "need" for chocolate three times per day. They cannot get enough of it in close to neural structures which would be one's mouth. Eating is nearly always noisestalked, and often the chocolate inside my mouth will be rotated by no apparent forces. And for those that want to skip the long story, when the perps first invaded my apartment in Seattle in 04-2002, they blocked the toilet with a balloon, and I had to buy a plumber's snake to get it unplugged. And ever since then, the chances of blocking the toilet have gone up to at least 60% of the time. And there has been many other consistent events associated with taking a crap, and I won't get into all that.

More PC problems, now recovery, and I added a spyware program that gives me results that I don't understand, or more like, aren't allowed to understand as that state of heightened cognitive awareness (attempting to figure something out) is a prime harassment state. All my life, learning problems, and this shit is still going on. Worse, it is managed for by a covert entity.

Picture time for some relief.

Taken 11-30-2008, 1342h 03sec. On the street partially seen through the balcony rail, three red vehicles (two parked in file, one nearly opposite them and heading the other direction. Four silver grey vehicles, two parked in file behind the two red ones, and two on the other side in motion. (The rightmost silver-grey vehicle is a little darker grey). And a city bus in the typical white and red livery, although the perps (likely) changed it to a white with a blue and green line in them, not seen here.

Taken 11-30-2008, 1342h 11sec. Yet more silver-grey vehicles are following, heading right to left in the closest lane, and a light metallic blue color vehicle was added in as well. This light metallic blue seems to be used as a "starter blue color" when the perps are attempting to get some kind of blue response/energy detection or whatever the hell they are after. Of interest, this light metallic blue color is the same as my parent's Peugot they had for some 12 years.

Crumb games! You will have to believe me on this one, that I did not set this up, as the perps would routinely create shaking hands to prevent me from doing this and unjustly blaming them. All day long I get inundated with crumbs, lint and dog hairs and here is an example where they created chocolate crumbs from the piece that was removed from the edge and arrayed in file progressing from smallest to biggest. I would never think of doing something so utterly fucking stupid, but here it is, and I am sure that it was arrranged to be photo bait as part of the script. While aiming the camera, and before the picture was taken, a red (plasma?) light came forth from the camera and shone on this very scene. And of course I ate the chocolate after the picture was taken, so I am sure there was some value for the perps for me to eat chocolate crumbs, and chocolate sections that had been immersed in red light for about two seconds. Presumably they could remotely detect the difference between the eaten chocolate (before this picture) and the red lighted chocolate (after this picture was taken).

Another "trust me"; the two most disbelieved words in a TI's vocabulary. This is taken at a bus stop, and invariably there is some paint on the ground near where I sit, and in this case red for their later red color games when on the bus.

While at the bus stop I also got my "pals" coming to play vagrant dudes, totally consumed with looking the other way at nothing exceptional. In the far background there are three redi-mix concrete delivery trucks at a new building site, and given the amount of redi-mix trucks that tail me, aka, "redi-mix truck stalking", I am sure they were helping the perp cause in some way. Other interesting, but almost ordinary events are having two silver-grey vehicles at orthogonal angles (one broadside behind the tree), and a yellow cab with a yellow-green Smart car beside it. No "smoking gun" oddities in this picture, only a slice of the action that repeats much of the time.

Calling this one done for today.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Wall Pounding

wall pounding and tapping has started up, and managed to get through the earmuffs that I had on. Anytime the perps want a specific noise heard through hearing protection, they can arrange it. Even the faint noises can "somehow" get through if they deem it neccessary. I suspect the earmuffs are a method to arrange for sounds to be heard in deeper neural structures. First is a campaign to create the noise as familiar without hearing protection, and then create annoyance noises to have me put the hearing protection, and lo, if the familiar noise doesn't later slip past the hearing protection. Apply and reinterate, for years now.

More wacko dreams in the night again; my unpleasant dream failsafe capabilities have been defeated this year, and now these dream intrusions can be sustained for far longer and much more vividly than ever happened before 2008. Take that to your doctor and have him explain it, which I did. He made a note in his chart, and asked another question. A life-long (54 years) normal neural mechanism/response suddenly stops working in conjunction with dreams of a nature and duration that never occured before. Hmm, why is it me that is only asking the questions?

Now, overhead pounding has started up for some reason, possibly to get through the hearing protective earmuffs that I am wearing. Earlier, there was incessant diesel engine noise, and that has returned once the earmuffs have been taken off. Regular readers will know that if the above partment was like any other, it would have carpeted floors overhead, and yet the pounding suggests that is not the case. I wonder where this would go if I complained to the building manager. Nowhere, like any other apartment complaint with supposed neighbors. If this apartment is managed like the last four, and it does seem that way, there are no real neighbors as the building has been emptied in advance of my tenancy. This also seemed true for the three places that I lived in Seattle from 1999 to 2002.

I see that Rachael O. is getting extremely pissed at the harassment and gangstalking as detailed on her blog posting. She writes like I sound when dealing with perp jerkarounds in this apartment usually, though they are pulling them at my one hour cleaning job. Adding dirt back onto just-cleaned carpets and floors seems to be fun for them. I cannot imagine the mindset of the cretins that plan and perpetrate these inanities, but it gets extremely wearing to say the least. Cranking someone's angst for over five years all the time is decidedly sadistic and fucking depraved. One of my rage-ification lines, (actually, likely supplied by the perps themselves) is "your have fucked me enough, go and fuck your own kind for once". In her unfortuneate case, she has to deal with childhood abuse that she knows of, and the downstream traumatizations from it. I have no major recalled childhood traumatizations, but seemingly I was given recall deletion, possibly before trauma reactions became stored, but this is no Get Out of Jail Free card, as there is subconscious recollections that the perps cannot yet dislodge and then fuck with (delete). Which it seems, is why I get this fucking freakshow of gangstalkers and setups, all to stimulate subconscious recall which I assume the perps can remotely detect, as I cannot. So it seems that part of the program of adult abuse, harassment and gangstalking is childhood abuse and traumatization. Like, they don't get it; go fuck your own kind and leave TI's alone, every last one of them. And let them take a baseball bat to dozen of prime Fuckwits that have been messing with them.

Instead, what do I get? More laterally flying food and water droplets that magically scoot sideways through no applied force from me. Today's lunch making was an example; I am grating cheese over the tortilla in the fry pan and have the grater about 2" above the surface of the tortilla for grated cheese to drop directly below into a heap. Not good enough for the Fuckwits apparently; one grated chunck of cheese flys sideways by 2' to land on the window sill. Later small chunks of cheese "arrive" under my fingertips, another one "happens" to fall off onto the floor, and so it goes; cheese contact sampling for remote energetics interaction it would seem. Cheese is a big deal for the Fuckwits, just like bread, or more likely, the gluten in bread.

The water flicking is also getting stupider; as I am about to start shaving my face and am wringing out the face cloth, water shoots out and contacts the can of shaving foam and leaving a trail of water from it to the edge of the sink. This is a method to retain the properties of the water at the outset of shaving and its direct interaction with the shaving foam can. I reckon they will compare this energetics interaction to that of the foam applied directly to my face with the water applied from the same face cloth. And water flickings are showing up all over, and in places that make no sense as there wasn't water nearby. I reckon the runny nose fuckery, usually in concert with eating or drinking brown colored foods or liquids is also part of this same water placement inanity.

I had yoga earlier today, my once per week class that gets so much attention on the street after I get out and return back to my place. The perps continue to wobble me while doing balances, and I can feel them pushing me with their forcefield games, as my balance isn't that bad. And of course, a new balance pose gets extra applied fuckery to force my feet back onto the mat.

Whenever I get out of yoga there is always an immediate flush of some stunt from the perp's repetoire; today it was following me with a male gangstalker with two mid-blue colored plastic bins, one nested into the other, but skewed to expose more of the top bin. He erupted from a stairwell when I was walking by in the opposite direction, he turned 180 degrees behind me and then jaywalked to then parallel me for 40' and then "ended up" meeting me at the corner again after I had turned 90 degrees and crossed the street. It seemed that the fucker was making his turn immediately behind me while I had turned 90 degrees on the other side of the street about 30 seconds before him. Anyhow, he made out he was delivering them to a street parked commercial van and that was the end of that stunt. Then the posse of vagrants and fuckwits came on, backlit for the most part and with shade/lighting games to ensure that they were seen only in highlighted features, not the full natural light conditions. Suffice to say, many of them were wearing red, and on their cell phones.

Send a prayer for Rachael O. whose angst is so very apparent, and that she find freedom from her tormentors. Calling this one done, even if I haven't related the full measure of the jerkarounds and bizarre public behaviors of my captors.