Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Emailing For a Faux Incapable Brother (plus 04-23-2008 updates)

The most loathed noise of them all, the chopped Harley Davidson noise ripping by, was created just when I typed up the title of this posting. I get about 30 or so per day, which is entirely fabricated by some noise projection means, as there is no such authentic activity in this neighborhood.

My in-town brother phones me to send emails on his behalf, making out he is too cognitively impaired to send it himself. This has been the second such event in two days, and suggests ulterior motives, never mind the fact that he can web sruf to craigslist and another local site selling used furniture, his hobby for extra monetary returns. He claims that it is "too difficult" to copy and paste a email address from craigslist into Outlook. (Craigslist seems to be going to the wrong email software, the new Windows Email, instead of Outlook). The timing of his calls is after I have had a long spell on the PC, more than two hours of web surfing or so, with an accompanying noise show from outside. The entire grovelling and premise is totally suspicious, if not facile, and is only one more First Feral Family, (my immediate family), strange behavior that has no precedent before the harassment started in 2002. Just more games, sending his email for him, all to include his phone number.

My prediction for a restless Monday night to get to sleep did not come to pass. They let me get to sleep after 30 minutes or so, after they enraged me with tickling my nose on each side, forcing me to sweep off the putative hair that was "causing" it. Of course the tickles were on each side of my nose in the usual form of harassment which suggests the perps are still totally clued out about reading my left and right side energetics from afar. This is consistent with the fact they send these oncoming ambulatory gangstalkers past me on my right side, the "left hand drive" pedestrians that now dog me when outside. Sometimes they put three on in succession, having these idiots making excuses to pass me in normal contravention to all pedestrian etiquette in North America. It does make me wonder if the entire world's choices as to left hand or right hand drive vehicles has been decided in some conspiratorial way; some left-hand drive countries in the Northern Hemisphere, UK and Japan, and some in the Southern Hemisphere, Australia and New Zealand. As noted in past blog postings, there are also an inordinant number of used direct Japanese import vehicles (left-hand drive) in this city, and "somehow", the regulatory agency for vehicle registration is allowing this. These are of course gangstalking vehicles, and I can be sure of seeing one or more everytime I am out walking. These vehicles have even been used to gangstalk my mother and I, having just got out of her vehicle, and some 8' away after locking hers up, a left-hand drive Japanese vehicle comes swooping through the parking lot to pass within 4'. Another coincidence, as the Monday morning vehicle driving with my mother is about the most gangstalked event going. Yesterday, I reckon that the perps put on at least 2,500 mobile and parked vehicles for a 20 minute drive. There was also the predictable pairing of a white vehicle in front of us, and then a "featured" vehicle in front of the white vehicle, putzing along at 25 mph, absurdly slow for this city, but no passing room of course. Yesterday's featured vehicle was a two tone mini-van, deep red and a mid grey, a matching greyscale tone. Which suggests the perps cannot yet figure out the interaction of deep red energetics with me with an intervening white reference color vehicle. They have used white cube vans and white commercial trucks in this arrangement on this identical run, in the same putzing mode. Which suggest the perps are fucking clueless in determining my red color energetics interaction. Hence, yesterdays noted red plasma flashing and web page augmentations, and they are on the same track today. And that means, they aren't done with me anytime soon, undertaking this nonconsensual energetics research on me and still fucking around with the color arrangement some 40' away. And of course, they also have my mother as a reference beside me. That all this remote research stems from past perp fuckups in my developmental years, although speculative, is even more galling; the essential problem is that they won't come out of the closet and declare themselves as my hidden harassment agency. Meanwhile, this absurd game spins on for another year. This is the part that I don't get; six years of harassment could be compressed into six months if they had sought cooperation. But no, the charade must go on, and hopefully I will be allowed to recall that pithy synopsis, unlike other determinations as to the mentality of the assholes and their imposed fuckery.

Two hallway conversations outside my door followed after dinner and dishes. I have been getting this mind-fuck barrage of planted notions of a imminent cessation of harassment hostilities. Regular readers will know I get these every two months or so, but this is the second in a week, which is tiresome, as in been there, done that, refuted it and was correct again. I don't know why the perps do this as they have done it since early days, 2003 at least, and have continued. There is far too much invested in irradiating this city, me, everything around me, the hundreds of shills and quislings that are on demand, the thousands of operatives, the mega-scale projects like building a condominium tower a half block away and then leaving it empty, another two residential towers are empty, and another tower is going up a block away, and another one in the opposite direction. Did I mention the thousands of driving shills as well, the close spaced traffic that numbers up to a thousand or more on each of my 30 min./direction walk to the gym of mobile vehicles in configurations by vehicle color, vehicle type and other features?

And while typing the above, another hallway confab went on outside my door, the third in 20 minutes at this key harassment moment of dinner digestion. And then a siren noise went off, over top of the faked high speed traffic noise.

Back to the planted notion that the perps are going to initiate an immediate cessation of harassment. As I mentioned, they do this every so often, since 2003, and my mantric response is "another year", and while not specific prognostication, so far, I have been correct. Meaning, there won't be any such thing happening in the near future; there is simply far too much investment in the harassment of me, a lifetime, for them to "give up" over some arbitrary deadline. The perp exercise of deceptive cessation imminence must be to tease out my responses in mind, and to elicit thought from the very last brain region they cannot yet fully pervert/control from remote locations. The only upcoming accomplishment milestone is 100% mind control, and as far as I can tell, the only thing they cannot pervert is the self-talk about making judgements about people, aka the freakshow participants as I encounter them, and logical congruity.

Anyhow, I went to the gym, and my classmates were reduced in number; only three class freaks, with Ethnic Gut parading around me, and featuring himself everytime I "happened" to look up. He was even in place to be seen when I arrived, heading up the stairs. In the first 8 minutes I was there, he "happened" to be in my view six times when I was in at least three differing locations. It is driving me fucking nuts having this oily, grotesque large gutted fuckwit hound me around the place, in a biright yellow shirt to make himself extra obvious today. The gym gangstalking was at the moderate level today; they put on plenty of operatives to tie up the equipment and make sure I was kept moving around in the sequence that they wanted, and to interupt me by parking an operative close in. I wasn't allowed to use the treadmill, as all eight were taken, so it was back to the stationary bicycles again. There, I had an Asian on one side, and a later loud fushcia dressed woman on the other side. As mentioned, there is a greater preponderance of reds, violets, pinks and fuschia colors planted around me, and they will even flash some plasma in my central or peripherial vision if they don't have sufficient props at the moment the deem to need an "exposure" to red colors.

In the floor exercise room, four of the operatives kept moving in closer to me, surrounding me and pinching in. They haven't done this before, as the format of being distributed over the room, rather than against one wall, is new. One of the two male class coordinators got his brown hair bleached to a very pale straw color, looking semi-freaky, which was probably what was intended. He has incrementally made himself to be freakish. One of his past acts was to have a stud through his eyebrow, and another through his lip into his chin. The big question is, is he classified as a class freak owing to his progressive freakiness when he wasn't at the outset? Don't know, but it seems this act has a long way to go, all of itself.

Another round of hallway voices erupted while I was attempting to think of a word to complete the above, read, being purposely word blocked.

I had my 50 or so ambulatory gangstalkers on my walk to gym and back; they went for native Indians today, I had five in all, when there isn't any usually. At the "freak stop", a recent location where a freak is featured in the front yard of an apartment building, they had a different one in each direction, doing the bullshit act, and one was on the Coffee Corps duty with his mug outside. Regular readers will know that the perps most difficult color seems to be brown, and so they pack around coffee, even TO the coffee shop, as some kind of standardized portable color reference. And of late, they are also adding more corrugated box material to the gangstalking, even with coffee; the pizza box, mailings as I go by the post office, map tubes, brown envelopes and a few others.

Other oddities were that one "just standing-there" fat dude at one intersection early in my return walk from the gym "just happened" to be getting off the bus at the other end of my walk, 20 minutes later. Had he caught the bus after I saw him the first time, he would of been long gone; to coordinate his arrival with mine, he would of had to have passed up 15 minutes worth of buses before taking a 5 minute ride to then gangstalk me again on my route. That takes coordination, as one must know my walking rate along with the bus travel times. Given that this has happened before with others, it cannot be a coincidence.

I also got my boom truck stalking today, four of them clustered on one job. These are the service trucks that come with an extendible boom and platform to reach the overhead powerlines. One was holding the wires up by a temporary cross strut, and two boom trucks were working on the powerlines, hooking onto a new pole. This was on the opposite side of the street as I was heading for th gym. The fourth truck didn't have any apparent task, and it was parked closest to me, in the adjacent street parking stalls. All the trucks were the same color, a mid-green color, and all had yellow painted booms with a white colored platform. I assume the closer truck was for close-in color referencing, much like how the crumb games seem to be. And about 120' later, the perps put that same boom truck green in my peripherial vision, making out that the adjacent gasoline station curb was painted the same color, which it wasn't, being a bare concrete surface. These planted faux color flashes in my vision, central or peripherial, are becoming more common of late, and in this case, it seems to be a time dependent re-enactment of seeing the same color of only a few minutes earlier, that of these four service powerline boom trucks.

I had at least 10 operatives on staring duty, but to be fair, I would call this an extended glance; a little longer than is socially normal, but not an outright stare. The perps seem to be curtailing the stare duration of late, and time it to subsecond durations and to keep it close to social bounds. Naturally, stare duration is culturally defined, and the perps know exactly how long that is for me, and then advise, or control, the assigned gangstalkers directly.

Another hallway confab outside my door, I have lost count now. But is has a predictable pattern; if I start a new activity, or new topic in this blog, the hallway voices start up again.

More hallway voices outside my door as I change topics again, along with having me swear at the blatant typos, characters that they put in, and weren't typed by me.

Another perp trait is nailing someone with false accusations, and have them sweat it out for a time; minutes, hours, or more often, years. I have had a few short term ill-considered accusations in my time, but never had to fight through the legal system for years or do jail time. But as it so "happens", two long standing cases were tossed out of court today, one in Ontario, Canada, the other in New York State. I haven't followed either of these cases in the past, and only became aware of them today. (My entire web access and display is orchestrated, so I consider these news items to be arranged for me). The Baltovich retrial ended with the prosecutors throwing in the towel, and not presenting any evidence. Absolutely stunning, meaning they didn't have much of case to begin with. This ordeal has lasted 18 years, with some six or more years of the defendent spent in jail.

And in New York state, Steven Kurtz was released, the trial called off for lack of evidence. "Only" a four year ordeal for him. Time without fail, especially on 60 Minutes, there has been stories of unjust prosecution, e.g. the Don Seigelman case, and it can only be assumed by me that the perps want me to see these examples of injustice, and somehow react in a way that the perps are looking for something. No doubt they had a hand in arranging these "mistakes" or malicious prosecution, and are no doubt monitoring the suspect/injustice victim as well, especially if they can get them to jail and monitor them in confined quarters. That is my conspiratorial theorizing for the day, and I am sure the perps wanted me to air it as another instance of reading these stories they arrange for me, not to mention the "coincidence" of both these happening on the same day, only in two different countries.

The overhead pounding has started up, likely timed to images, usually unpleasant ones, that are planted to be "associated" with what I am reading, a travelogue of Australia. Lucky me, I have a party inserting phobia related concepts in mind, and then hammering the ceiling overhead.

More conversing in the hallway outside my door, thankfully a passby of five seconds or so, and not the malingerers.

Another round of hallway chatter outside my door with the headphones on and listening to a Mike Wallace interview. There seems to be more "noise mixing", adding one noise on another, often of the same kind (voices), and one is relatively familiar, e.g the hallway voices, while Mike Wallace's guest, Erich Fromm in this case, wasn't.

Time to call this one done for the day, even if I "missed some", read, recall purging, relating details of the street gangstalking today.

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