Dazzlers Off The Display

1305h
A new round in fuckery was just revealed to me; a bright point source of flickering light coming off the LCD display (monitor) from the depiction of someone's face. Overhead, a simultaneous thudding was arranged. I am not allowed to recall what the exact setup was, or who's face it was, but it was probably a film celebrity. The perps like me to view celebs online, and will usually noisestalk me the instant I set my eyes on them or recognize them. Perhaps this cognition is happening too fast for them, and they are slowing it down with plasma games for their own benefit. In fact, the interuption, interference or delaying of events is their biggest signature move, all to gather some bioenergetics assay results they wouldn't otherwise get.

After yesterday morning's imposed cereal spill from the old package with the contents from a new bag, (new bag was in fugly colors), they were at it again, forcing a much smaller cereal spill at the same juncture, just when I was attempting to seal the bag after pouring out a portion in my cereal bowl. This time, it was only a half dozen flakes or so onto the same counter area as yesterday, and instead of putting them back in the bag, "I" (read, mind controlled me) put them in my bowl. No doubt this was of huge importance to continue the cereal antics, and it may continue tomorrow. Which suggests that the perps are keeping track of the energetic signature of every cereal flake in the bag, a bulk pack no less. It boggles the mind as to the excruciating detail they are monitoring, not to mention dynamic energetic interactions with all things around it, and in the case of food, when it is in me. And as I typed this I was getting some plasma flashes in the form of orange horizontal bands, 1/2" thick, across the width of this LCD display monitor.

It might become a shut-in day if my motivation to get a weekend newspaper gets totally sapped; I have been through Saturdays where "I" had been intending to get out, and "somehow" never did, as much as I wanted to. There is something very important about keeping me contained in my apartment, and could only be accomplished with enforcing social isolation with general life raping and no direct parenting, courtesy of the assholes who planned my divorce of 2005 or so, and the five years that it took, never mind the excessive expenses, though no fault of my lawyer, the third one.

And I see that rain has been on-off for most of the day today, and it plays a big part in the harassment games by cleaning the streets of whatever compounds that give the perps so much trouble. Which is why they send their operatives to walk the street along the gutter, parallel to the sidewalk and through the parking stalls which have been emptied for the occasion. Seemingly, it is the asphalt to concrete interface that seems to give them whatever problems they have. This might be partially ameliorated by having their operatives sit on the sidewalk, typically at a bus stop, and then place their legs onto the adjacent asphalt, often with a coffee (brown color reference, note) in hand. I have seen pictures from the 1963 Kennedy assassination where there were "spectators" that took on this same manner of public comportment, sitting on the sidewalk with their legs on the roadway. It is very curious, and I can only assume it is the same agency sponsoring operatives for the same reason, no matter the tumultuous circumstances of the day. And so, whatever technical energetics interest this serves has now been placed upon me, or more like, is a component of my ongoing harassment. Which does suggest a dogged relentlessness that they would continue on this same research topic for 45 years. Simply amazing.

1630h
I did make to out to the local LD store to get the newspaper and the mouthwash to replenish the mysterious accelerated depletion of the bottle I have. And lo, if it wasn't a blue color test for gangstalking with additional negro stalking in both of the stores I went to. I only intended to go to LD to get both mouthwash and a newspaper, but just like last time, I was screwed out of my recall of getting the latter item.

This time, there were eight gangstalkers lined up at the dental care aisle of the store, and lo, if two of them weren't these infernal motorized wheelchairs that keep chasing me all over town. And one was parked exactly where I needed to acquire the Oral B mouthwash with an ambulatory asshole as well. The entire store was totally nuts with gangstalkers, and they wanted me to know that. At the checkout area there were two negros posted there for "color" or whatever the perp's reason is for planting them in my proximity.

Onto the supermarket to get a newspaper, but first I was sent to get yet more chocolate, the main budget breaking category of imposed "need". Then it was the moment for the grey and black dressed blonde to cross my tracks and loiter in lead-ahead mode just to piss me off. (There must be something about the perps wanting me to be vexed by a blonde woman). I had two more standing over the brown tortillas again, the sprouted wheat kind, and then it was onto the checkout where and older blonde, even wig-like, was preceding me down the aisles, and then she loitered around me at the checkout as a putative staff member, feigning to open a new checkout, and then not. The dashed expectations fuckery again; been there, done that.

The perps color theme of this two store gangstalk gauntlet was navy blue and blue. First there was a blue and white varsity coated dude in the elevator, feigning to get out when I wanted to get in, so I asked him if he wanted out and he said no. He didn't offer any reason as to why he made the move, but it was the start of a pattern of having me speak in public areas that repeated; at the LD store, and then again at the supermarket. And there were many navy blue vehicles parked or in motion for my half block visit to LD, and ambulatory gangstalkers also dressed in blue. One of the above mentioned motorized wheelchairs was in deep metallic blue. After yesterday's room temperature drying of my hand washed navy blue shirt, this must of been the triggering event for the more intensive blue color gangstalking today.

I then proceeded to the supermarket, and lo, if there wasn't more blue dressed gangstalkers, and another negro woman at the checkout. The perps also made me look at a telephone card display at the checkout, featuring one fugly rasta haired dude as part of the display art. Funny how that happens, these disgusting hairdos keep "showing up" online, or in any graphic display.

And now I am getting vision impairment fuckery with simultaneous noise from above. Time to cease journalling for now.

1730h
I got my February film copy from the film maker, and lo, if the first roll wasn't corrupted, and only the second roll was developed. And it seems that the perps are making me look gay, which I am not, with eyebrow affectations and sucking the air out of me so I cannot articulate words to the degree that I wanted. Anyway, I am a little pissed as to how I am being presented, which has nothing to do with the filmaker, just the control that is applied to me. The film's lighting also casts me into dimness, and there is no excuse for that as they had a light meter to my face. I also felt dociled, tamed and not spitting furious like I would be if not mind-controlled. A sick perp stunt, and it won't appear on YouTube anytime soon; not only do I find my controllers fucking with my delivery, mannerisms and countenance, but the first half of the film is missing, which screws up the continuity.

The film came on a DVD, and the filmaker indicated that she is going to get someone else to read the missing first portion. In the accompanying letter there are other excuses that don't stand up, but what did I expect? A hassle-free outcome? It doesn't happen. But the gay affectations are pissing me off, and are likely to be the imposed focal point of ongoing ruminations for the next few days. While I was viewing the film, the perps kept up the overhead pounding noises and also kept playing plasma games and masking various parts of my image.

1920h
A flurry of tapping, door closure noise and outside vehicular traffic is on. I don't know what drives these flurries all the time, and it maybe totally scripted to events that I don't know about, say food digestion or a sports events outcome. I see that my favorite NHL hockey team hasn't it past the quarter finals, which always brings to mind as to how much professional sports can be manipulated with covert extra-conventional gravitic methods. Some decades ago when in Vavouver and watching the Montreal Canadiens play against the Vancouver Canucks, the former team seemed to play dead almost and lost the game. Afterward, when I mentioned that Montreal seemed to have purposely lost, aka "throwing the game", to my then wife, the conversation went suddenly mute, no more discussion. I thought it was odd at the time, but in the revised context of her being complicit with covert harassment and covert life orchestration, it now makes sense; I was correct, and it was not to be discussed.

2150h
I am allowed to listen to Project Camelot videos tonight; the harassment of yesterday's video sabotage was likely a "starter" session, where they like to give me a short exposure to an event before a longer one. The overwhelming "message" of the interviews seems to be that we humans are messing up the Earth, poisoning it. The part I don't get is that the petroleum industry has been allowed to be developed and the perilous global warming is planned IMHO. So many of the so-called free energy researchers and inventors have been bought off or murdered, starting with Rudolph Diesel (promoting agricultural sourced fuels), through Tesla and Egene Mallove. There is something very fundamental about the properties of petroleum the perps are hell-bent in determining, and this quest existed long before asphalt paved roads.

And a "convenient demise" is how I would characterize yet another timely death of someone who was ready to blow the whistle. This being the Washington DC madam, Deborah Jeane Palfrey, that was ready to make names public; it happens way too often to be natural, and no one seems to be raising the issse. The Karen Silkwood Story was a similar situation. That the leading expert on Iraqi weapons of mass destruction before the current Iraqi war began, David Kelly of the UK, "suicided" to mask the political trail that has lead to the imbroglio.

Time to get off this morbid trail and call this one done; conspiracist thinking is one long slippery slope, but something that I cannot ignore for all the "coincidences" that occur in my life with world news events.