Friday, January 25, 2008

Pound Ceiling When Victim's Online Image is Changes

The title is a putative instruction I concocted that could be in the harassment procedures manual. Have a web image of two attractive women, have me mouse click on it, and then swap the image for a bald headed negro male, a three times Unfavored image (bald, negro, male). And while conducting this illegal computer intrusion, pound the ceiling at the same time. Obviously the perps are attempting to link my reaction to the imagery swap to the ongoing noise imposition, ceiling pounding (of concrete no less), being a standardized noise. Anyhow, it is a small example of the detail the perps go through in evaluating my reaction to the Favored, and then immediately thereafter, the Unfavored, details availible at the link.

I had another example of this stunt, and it was blanked out of mind.

I am getting a persistent pain in my left jaw joint region, which might be a perps continuation of the left side temple pains they laid on me yesterday. And along with that, they are also persisting in placing a fuzzy maser ball in my central vision that tracks exactly where I am reading. More fuckery from sick minds.

More painful left jaw hits; one pain burst was timed for when I was reading the word "magnetic", one of the core technologies that the perps use to apply their extra-conventional gravitic fuckery as well as localized pain and noise.

Yesterday evening, the perps hit me with some head pain for which they had me ranting about, and while doing so, they directed my attention to the picture of an attractive blonde woman who was the web author. This is a new combination of harassments, directed attention while enraged after being provoked. It never ends, the combinations and permutaions of being totally fucked with.

Back at my desk, and getting a steady stream of vehicles with loud muffler noise of the unmaintained kind. These hoarse muffler noises seem to be "in" of late, and the two cycle motorcycle noises of lesser importance, though I cannot stand either of them.

I was out at the doctor's office today, doing a 30 minute walk to get there, and had the usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles on gangstalking duty, perhaps more, as I took a different route as I had come from a social workers' office.

My prior short in-town walk to that office was gangstalked in the extreme; it was about 1250h, and the cover story would of been that these folks were on their lunch break. I had two ambulatory male oversized waddlers on the sidewalk who then "showed up" some 20 minutes later on my walk to the doctors. An obvious planting of the same operatives, as no one walks as fast I as do nowadays. As always, the surfeit of waddling males is nothing new. It was a worse freakshow at the social workers' office; one male came at me from across the office to the office door, and then returned to a seat. This strange behavior was all about getting me to see the ugliest hairdo yet; green corded hair like some kind of clown. I got another corded hair job yesterday, this one with natural colored brown hair, on "door duty", keeping the apartment door open for me when I arrived as she "happened" to be departing. I have met this same woman three times in the apartment lobby, passing by each time, and getting her ugly hairdo seen when I enter the building. This must still be a large energetic transition moment for which the perps cannot yet figure out.

For today's outing I got the four gangstalkers in the elevator again, one a child in a transparent plastic covered stroller. I have seen a number of these plastic rain covers over strollers in the past few days, and it does not make any conventional sense, as there is no threat of rain. My assumption this is an emulation of the plastic pollutants in my system, and having the child as a gangstalker and behind plastic just might help the perps in their remote assay games. Regular readers will know of the perps' obsessions over placing plastics around me and the various games that go on to flick and otherwise accelerate the movement of said plastic props in my proximity.

I got more brown color treatment when out; after making a 90 degree turn, there was a brown colored Volvo at the curb, and the brown dressed owner had just opened the door with more brown colored trim, and only 10' distant was a male brown dressed gangstalker standing still in mid sidewalk on his cell phone, typically used for creating extra electromagnetic field around in the local area. And lo, if there weren't countless brown colored soil-like dust clots on the sidewalk, "browning in" more of the immediate scene. This was a big deal I suppose, as this little scene was set up and timed to the fraction of a second.

Today's vehicular gangstalking was full of Volvos (l like them, and owned them for 20 years) and BMW 3 series, especially the wagon version. The perps even put the BMW's in clusters of two's and threes, something I hadn't seen before. And then come similarly shaped models from other vehicle manufacturers, and often these are scaled down versions, such as the Mazda three door model, the name escaping me for the time being, even if I pass a Mazda dealership often.

And my doctor is moving on he stated; no difference there for me, I was talking to a wall anyhow. He is Asian, and I considered this to be Asian male "face time", my once per month session at the behest of my mind-keepers. Interestingly, the perps are moving me up the brown (skin) scale, as the next doctor will be and East Indian; this is a repeat of their doctor visit stunts of 1997 to 1999 games when I had an obdurate East Indian woman doctor who kept blowing me off about my complaints. I always wondered why she was often looking at the ceiling each time she spoke with me, and it confirms what I have noticed about other shills; they must be getting a text script feed on the retina of their upper eye. Now, it is going to be a deeper shade of brown skin color, and a male doctor. That is likely to serve for another 18 months if the current doctor's duration is a guide. Then who knows, a deep dark skinned African doctor after that, and by then, the perps' brown fixation should be over. Lucky me, only another three years of unmitigated hell from the sickos that created these problems in the first place, and then have trashed the hell out of my existence while they attempt to figure out the pychic damage. Not my problem, and why am I being involved in it?

That stock rejoinder of the above paragraph gets routinely trotted out by way of planted thoughts, and today, I got special noisestalking while keying it in, so there must be something more that the perps want other than controlling me as to what they are scripting me to type.

I told my doctor about various financial needs, most related to the harassment; the frypan with the self-popping spot welds, the self-shredding sheets and the accelerated wear down of my last pair of runners, all perp invoked by remote means. He didn't even blink as to these incredible oddities, indicating to me this was all scripted, as the perps would choke me down if I got into unscripted revelations. The doctor was also doing his best to put his head in front of his LCD display on his PC, moving it back and forth with partial overlaps of the blue colored screen. My perp abetting mother does similar actions; "explaining a problem" with her PC, and flicking her hands in front of the CRT display in an over-obvious attempt to do the perp's bidding. The obvious incidence of hand waving and flicking behavior began when this harassment began.

I got more "blonde stalking" today; one on lead-ahead duty was tailing me for 10 minutes, counting the alternate routes we took around the same block, "showing up" again, aka reprising herself on an unlikely route by anyone's standards who knows this town. They are now appearing as the lastmost gangstalker before my apartment block it seems. After the above mentioned blonde crossed paths with me some 100' from my apartment building, a clip clopping (footwear noise) blonde woman in light brown, red shoes and red lipstick followed me into the building and into the elevator, carrying a Starbuck's coffee (brown color reference) in a grey tray, making her as a member of the Coffe Corps. She looked way overdone for this building; in her late 50's, nice clothes, and coming into a predominantly studio suite building. Anyhow, strange behavior of others in my proximity is nothing new.

The kerchunk noises are coming on; this particular back beat sound is like no other, and has followed me from Seattle in 2002, to every residence (now seven) since to the present. It is truly amazing that my "neighbors" can make the same sounds with the same coordination with other events, e.g. web page changes, an uncontrolled thought, a pain twinge, reading specific "hot" words, and so it goes. I might as well as be talking to the wall, just like the above mentioned doctor, as none of this makes sense in any scenario except persecutorial harassment in the service of nonconsensual human experimentation and no one wants to hear about it.

The left jaw pain has been coming and going all day, and it often gets invoked in similar circumstances as per above mentioned kerchunk sounds.

And here is James Henry Graf, the eloquent activist that I know of describing the same pit of hell that I am in Your Brain Is the Battleground;
Imagine being exposed all day every day to the twenty most vicious, sleaziest, most obnoxious persons you have ever met. Imagine not being able to get away from them, having them monitor your thoughts, impulses, physiological processes, dreams, fantasies, memories, and all the events of your daily life. Imagine that they confront, interrogate, threaten, degrade, and torment you day and night. Imagine their contemptuous jibes as they obstruct your every earnest effort. Imagine the humiliation, the frustration, the fury. The closest parallel is that of demonic possession. These are not demons, however. They are real human criminals whom no-one will arrest or prosecute.
Literally, invaded up the asshole, and to all thoughts, no matter how fleeting. Ever wonder why so many whistleblowers get nixed before they divulge the goods, Karen Silkwood for example? It is because one's thoughts are surrepticiously read, all the time, though I have no idea as to how widespread this is. Who gets selected for being surveilled and monitored down to every last thought, never mind being guided, directed or controlled?

More of James Henry Graf's pithy and eloquent treatise is at this link as well, Virtual America. Make that Virtual Canada as too, as I have been equally harassed in both countires. Here is a particularly resonant quote from the linked page; based on my experience, he does not exaggerate in the least;
The mock democracy that has cheated, persecuted, humiliated, terrorized, and tortured me is really a "national security" dictatorship, a land surreptitiously controlled by an insolent overclass contemptuous of Law and Constitution, using astounding technology to advance an essentially fascist agenda. It is a vicious, capricious empire, the domain of drooling Caligulas and snarling Torquemadas whose unchecked malevolence enlists the aid of legions of cowards, crooks, liars, and fools. It is a culture of contempt, where personal attack supplants rational debate, where artificial distinctions abound while valid ones are ignored. All is arbitrary here. Everything is relative. Law, ethics, and very reality are defined to suit the nefarious purposes of those in power.
I do not know if he has been subject to harassment and abuse from extra-conventional technologies as I experience all time, but he has been hit with physical ailments that can be delivered by action-at-a-distance methods or by X-rays as his T-cell count was abnormally low. I could quote nearly all of his treatise, but if one wants a resounding fact based call to arms over the plight of harassed, tortured, monitored and surveilled citizens, check out Virtual America. He attempted to get refugee status in three European countries and they all repatriated him. I don't think any TI has worked as hard to get official help and been spurned at every turn.

Time to call this done; my YouTubing is getting hacked more often now. I get audio and vison desybchronization, darkened down stage shots and smeared over personages. All part of the functional decomposition of my bioenergetic being, down to everything I see, hear, think or conclude.

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