Saturday, March 22, 2008

Noisestalking Planted Dreams

The level of neural intrusion has got to the level of sick and silly, both at once. Regular readers will know that one Unfavored item the perps like to plant for me to see are wheelchairs. Again, I don't know why this is so, save possible subconscious recall where explicit memory was deleted by some means.

At some early morning time the perps had me in a light sleep and planted the sight and/or word "wheelchair" into my dream. As soon as that image and/or concept was in mind, they slammed the ceiling overhead with some transient sound, effectively noisestalking, as I call it, what was in a dream. This is another first, explicitly setting up dream content to be coincident with a remotely created noise around me. This is what they do all day of course, noisestalking me with simultaneous sounds at specific moments, some of which could be as prosaic as forced typos, Windows select, cut and paste actions or repairing the forced handwriting errors in my written journal.

Anyhow, it is all too silly, and about the most dumbfuck way of saying "we are sucking wind, and are still not going to declare ourselves to continue this depraved campaign from a remote location". Something like that, though I suspect my cynicism and even this content is largely "supplied" by way of directly planted suggestion, keeping me at a state consistent with what I would normally say.

It is ding dong time; the church bells have begun, even if it is Saturday night, as part of the ongoing noise parade while finishing up on my script for a film segment of the residents of the Chelsea Apartments. It is that exciting for the perps. But in fact, there is a long history of them directing editing and changes ad infinitum, and this exercise is no different. Some of the work "had to be" moved to another document just so I was free of being mentally scrambled in putting it together.

Now the all-quiet order has gone out, a relief from the barrage of serial noise from outside. I suppose the dinner digestion is done, and it is back to full time surveillance.

More games in the perps changing the settings in Open Office and jerking with page number display again. It never ends, another stunt was to add persistent lines across the page that could not be deleted. They know that I don't know Writer as well as Word, and find many avenues to exploit. It is fucking insane that this represents their state of mind after six years of nonstop harassment.

For the second time today, a noise barrage came on when I was printing, blending some familiar noise with some from a close by source, the printer which I rarely use.

No blog posting tomorrow as I will be busy with the script and then off to the carpet auction with some vague rumblings about a First Feral Family dinner, location undeclared, to me at least.

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