Friday, May 30, 2008

On With Shoulder Pain

One of the regular jerkarounds, about once per two weeks, is to have an imposed pain from no seeming cause created as a localized source of neural sensitization. It would seem that the perps need a new source of somatic pain every so often, and today it is my right shoulder, never a problem until today. I did go the yoga and the gym yesterday, but there was no strenuous activity that registered as a potential reason. And note, should I spin in my chair, even if not moving my shoulder, the pain will come on, all because of some covert agency's need to impose this pain when I am in a 90 degree different orientation. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the concept of anisotrophy, differing properties (of light and other energetics IMHO) in differing directions/orientations. Hence, all the vehicles and ambulatory gangstalkers turning corners in front or behind me, the 90 degree offset orientation of placed gangstalkers, the 180 and 360 degree spins of gangstalkers in front of me and the rest of it. I blogged about this once at length, and if I am allowed to be industrious, I will get the link- here.

I don't know much about goat milk, even if I have been buying it for some six months now. But I do know that the gangstalkers are all over me each time I purchase it, and especially if I change brands, usually because of "stocking" shortages. The big game with this milk is that it goes off long before the expiration date, and the larger size plastic container was replaced with a one liter cardboard container as there was too much waste. And lo, if the one liter size goat milk isn't souring early; an expiration date of June 05 and one third of it still remaining, and now it needs to be replaced. The fridge has its cold setting turned to maximum coldness and still this premature goat milk souring is going on. I suspect the perps are up to their usual fuckery, and are still playing games over this food item, largely because it is white in color, one of the essential reference colors for them.

Ever note how often there are white or black colored bars on packaging for no seeming reason? Or, alternatively, underneath cardboard milk containers, the row of printed color testing. Guess who that might be, given their interest in all things colored (including reference colors), metered and all energetic interactions? That is the conspiratorial thought for the day, and with the perps so rabid in introducing various plastics in my proximity when outside, or even dropping them onto my outside balcony, it does not surprise me in the least that packaging plays an extremely important role in the energetics of the contents, and that the same interested agency might have a large role in how things are packaged. All I can say is that the packaging of what I purchase is a bigger deal to someone else other than me, and that the same agency has a long running interest in cycling me through milk containers of any kind. Go figure.

Here are two examples, the teabag cover having both black and white color "sample swatches".

This is Neutrogena Deep Clean with a single black color swatch.

And too, the anisotrophy of the packaging and containers; they constantly have me flip the containers around, and otherwise manage for me to vary the orientation in the placement of what I purchase and use. My father even does them a favor by eating his breakfast cereal right out of the plastic bag inside the box of cereal, bypassing the possible energetics of the bowl, spoon and milk. So far, they haven't fucked me into such pathetic behaviour, but they do like to arrange "hiccups" in my routines, no matter how prosaic.

Another pain that has been introduced today is knee pain, and it can be applied at any moment, typically when I am standing in the kitchen and re-orienting myself along the L shaped counter. And to dispense with the cover story, they even invoked the knee pain while the leg was raised and of course, with no stress whatsoever. Again, I have no knee pains of pre-overt harassment days, so why now? Are the knees of bipedal walking design reaching a deeper neural structure so the interested mind-keepers can exploit this for their alleged brain stem region research? And simultaneous scripting of shoulder pain and knee pain an attempt to correlate these sensitizations? Could be, as having both at once is no coincidence, not in my life.

A round of doing battle with the perps erupted over importing pictures, with ongoing outside noise, the same ones that "happened" before teatime. This is now post-teatime, and I eat 100g of chocolate, and its digestion seems to be of intense interest to the assholes, as is all things brown. I suspect the perps want me in this hyper alert state while dealing with their planted and planned "software glitches" introduced into Picasa to then mess with the listing of the folders. The folders are still there, but Picasa has its wires crossed and cannot find them. And of course any file/album manipulation capability in Picasa has been obstructed. A fucking pissoff, as I had no trouble with Picasa for over 1.5 years, and now an "eruption" of dysfunction.

And note, a new vacuum cleaner was put into operation when I was eating chocolate; just as the first piece was placed in my mouth it restarted after a "warm up" of noise and suction when unwrapping the bar. I can often successfully predict the goings on if I am not being dithered. And the fridge compressor also kicked on; my take on this is that the sudden onset of an electric motor creates a EMF spike that the perps hope is of some benefit to them. The suction of a vacuum cleaner likely aids them in their torsional energetics games. Enough of this sick streak of fuckery, time to look into something else.

A post tea and chocolate short web surfing created by pissing me off, then a 15 minute book reading, my first permitted book reading in months, and then a 60 minute nap on the bed. The perps are still making me out to have a groggy recovery, even if dinner would of dispelled it in normal circumstances. Now the overhead rattling and clunking has arrived for the dinner digestion period. Through all of the above, the most loathed Harley motorbike noises have been arranged, and often when I have no hands availible to plug my ears.

I am now getting a number of red plasma flashes, of a degree that makes me want to puke if it ran for much longer. Often the web pages I visit are modified to have these colors in abundance for the same effect. Yesterday the perps put on some very bright red plasma flashes at the gym; I had red colors on each side of my peripherial vision, and someone decided that I needed some very bright ones in my central vision, and placed some horizontal plasma beams about 20' away, one a copy of the other but with reduced brightness. There were others that saw it, but of course did not let on that they did. I imagine that the perps have been working on all facets of my aversion to specific colors for a long time, but only in the last year have they reached my subconscious reactions and made them the predominant arbiter of my Favored and Unfavored classifications. Only they knew such reactions were there all the time, having created the traumatizations in the first place, and which seem to be an impasse to what they are after other than total mind control. They wouldn't be digging so neurally deep for remediation purposes.

My earlier remarks about the imposed knee pain prompted notion to look up the neural pathways associated with walking, and hence, knee sensation. Little did I know that the experts aren't totally sure themselves, the conventional technology experts that is. This link is to a book of theories on the neuromechanics of bipedal locomotion.

Below, is a copy of the abstract of this paper, which refers to deep neural pathways of the basal ganglia and brainstem regions;
Recent physiological studies of neural architecture of the motion control have clarified how the basal ganglia-brainstem system controls muscle tone and locomotion. The descending two major pathways from a basal ganglia-brainstem-midbrain control the activity of muscle tone and the locomotion executing system. So we have modeled an automatic control system of locomotion of a biped with these two pathways, which operates in conjunction with voluntary control processes. The locomotion executing system activates the locomotor central pattern generator, whose output alternatively generates the locomotor rhythmic patterns. Another descending pathway from a basal ganglia-brainstem-midbrain controls postural muscle tone to sustain the locomotion. We have demonstrated that the bipedal locomotion is flexibly organized by integrating the two pathways, which is more adaptable to the changes of the environment than the CPG models proposed so far.

By inference, I think that the perps are beyond this leading edge theory of neural pathways related to bipedal motion, and are exploiting this knowledge in an attempt to plumb my brainstem region for related energetic activities they cannot yet manipulate. Very advanced by my reckoning. Once, I knew much more about the neural regions and makeup in my ADD research days, but it seems that knowledge has been deleted, as I am confounded that so little can be recalled. And it is interesting that the perps are constantly noisestalking me over neurology terms and the above linking to them, the few that I engage in looking up to explain the ongoing fuckery focus.

A barrage of motorcycle noise, bus noise, loud muffler noise and overhead rumbling has been in place for the last hour, usually timed to what I am reading and "needing" to have my ears plugged with my fingers. Some red flashes have been scripted in as well. I cannot vouch for why the perps are so interested in me reading about a JM Lab/Focal (speakers) factory tour, and other web surfing of stereo gear, but that was the kind of online content that seemed to be associated with the noise.

The above mentioned roaring and ripping sounds seem to be coordinated with my fingers over my ears; the instant I take my fingers off another similar sound has started up, sometimes for three iterations. And the noises are getting further divorced from reality in that there are no places to safely drive fast in this neighborhood, and yet that is what the loud vehicle sounds convey.

Another related pattern is that when I take my earmuffs off, the perps set up noise to ensure that I immediately plug my fingers with my ears. They want my fingers to follow on from the earmuffs for some repetitive reason. No doubt this is all building up to a rare eveningtime shopping trip to get some milk to replace the plunderings noted above. The milk I regularly purchase is situated next to the chocolate milk, and the proximity of white milk next to brown milk is of abiding interest to the perps.

I made a rare nightime shopping trip to the local supermarket, and lo, if I wasn't commanded to purchase more chocolate when I have plenty on hand. And lo, if the goat milk wasn't next to the chocolate milk, heightening my suspicion as to all this being arranged. In fact, I am sure all of it is arranged, complete with the instignating event of the assholes prematurely souring my milk. And for my pain, I had no choice in getting twice as much milk in a plastic container with the expiry date one day later that the one liter carton I had on hand. The latter is now tossed out, and I suspect all that white milk swirling in the sink might be another color reference test.

I had my retinue of gangstalkers on jaywalk duty, as well as in a greyscale outfit to then lead ahead of me into the store. A counter walking dude was in a vile green colored outfit. I had a gangstalker on me when getting the chocolate, and then again when I was selecting the milk. I had my "open mouther" one of the regular gangstalkers a little morphed over and taller, and I wasn't allowed to recall his name when I saw him, only images of his past sightings. That was Mr. Passport Tosser, or at least I was planted with the notion, and he bore some resemblance. I had a dreadlocked negro dude hanging around, and I was made to looking at his vile mop hairdo at least twice more than I wanted to. Then onto outside the store where a bright fleece act was positoned outside the door, as well as the malingering skinhead at my checkout also happened to be passing by, riding his bicycle on the sidewalk in the most cycle laned cities in Canada. The negro dude also preceded me out the door, and even my usual route, so I took the alternative path, only to have my stare-at-me babe arrive, who then did a stand-in-the-street (on the ashphalt) 4' from the curb for the usual perp reasons. (I was on the concrete sidewalk waiting for the traffic control, and I have remarked at length in past blogs as to the nature of this abiding perp interest in concrete and asphalt surfaces and their interface at the curb). Then a suit, a MIB (Man In Black) in fact, packing a white plastic bag in hand to precede me for the last block. And finally, for the whole 10 minute round trip, shopping included, a swarm of six semi-vagrant dudes was outside my apartment block, one with a replica of the aforementioned negro's fugly hairdo. I cannot be left alone, fugly hair stalking it might me called. Then to top off the absurdity, out from the elevator comes a 40ish dude with his arm extended to his side, aiding a bent over granny. That they didn't look related didn't matter it seemed; the perps like to manage for a large differential in height among their gangstalkers, and that seemed to be the objective, save for the minor hilarity.

Anyhow, I am going to call this one done, a near shut-in day, and likely one tomorrow.

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