Wednesday, July 23, 2008


Mindstalking is a new term I learned from the activist's group; funny how I had thoughtstalking, noisestalking and other specialized forms with; bread, bananas, cardboard boxes, and a few others, but never mindstalking. I am not sure about this term, and shouldn't be a substitute for mind control or behaviour control IMHO.

A day of hard labor in the farm fields today, but with a decidedly multicultural exposure. Translated, that means other brown skinned individuals in close proximity, to further the perp's investigations with the color brown, and why and how I don't like the fucking color. A multi-billion dollar exercise hounding me as to why, and with what neural bioenergies, I loathe the color brown. Never mind the fact that they created the problem in the first place with their traumatizing incursions; life-rape isn't about being fair-minded.

They started me off with four negro street gangstalkers before 0650h when awaiting the crew bus. The shoe packing fuckwit that wanted a light three days ago was back at the same time with his buddies, one being a negro, and them all participating in a split formation strut in front of me while crossing the street. While waiting for the crew bus I saw the most disgusting looking policeman with a huge gut doing the back and forth strut opposite at City Hall, making like he was foiled in getting into the building. Worse yet, he was in shorts and had his head shaved; a too fugly sight for that early in the morning, no matter that he had three stripes.

On the way to the farm the crew bus picked up a new negro dude, a whole lot darker than the last one, who might have been a morphover job of a Caucasian. As so often happens, new gangstalkers put on the "look away look" and also flashed his teeth for me to see. This is nearly always standard for new gangstalking recruits, showing me the whites of their eyes and teeth. Later the new negro dude was sent with a negro woman to work with the regular Punjabi crew, assigned to infill planting of cabbage seedlings. (Replanting where the machine seedling had expired). This was already seeming odd to send two negroes over, never mind one of them being a new-today hire. At about 1000h, he was sent back to do daffodil bulb picking, and I was sent in his place, helping the Punjabis. I was also commanded to allow the new negro dude to use my hand rake, and even though I knew this was a harassment related dodge, I was not allowed to deny the perps this gambit. Anyhow, I had a back breaking time planting seedlings with the Punjabis, but as far as I could tell, I was doing a reasonable job. I never did find out why they didn't use a dibble to plant the container stock.

As the "Cabbage Crew" is all Punjabi, I also get the turban display as well, that particular headgear being one of the Unfavored. They don't speak much English, and their foreman points at a row he wants infill planted and away I go. But there was plenty of animated Punjabi conversation, fitting the perps' need to have me around unintelligible speech, i.e. a foreign language. Though certain foreign languages, e.g. German, may also incurr traumatization issues from the "lost years", ages 3 through 5.

And there was a German couple on the crew until two days ago when they quit in digust over some slight, though I was not there at the time. Last week I had them working near me, speaking their native tongue, and I cannot say that I noticed any kind of reaction, and not even a planted reaction the perps have given me. I see that the news has been recently pumping a story about Heim, a potential Nazi war criminal who performed many human experiments, second to the infamous Mengele. The latter somehow escaped from prison and continued his practices in South America, though was often sighted in North America, and even Montreal, possibly confering with an infamous psychiatrist by the name of Dr. Ewen Cameron, a Scotsman. And yes, I often get Scottish accents planted around me, and I do find this accent rather irksome for whatever reason, likely overt remote control. And I lived in Montreal, aged 2 to 3 in 1956-7, though I have no recollection to meeting him. It seems that many of the Montreal recollections have been deleted, though I have some fragmentary recollections then, but not for the next two years until 5 years old.

There was more cloud today, and thankfully the heat wasn't as bad as Sunday, only getting direct sun after 1400h. I am still wondering if I could put two working days in succession again, and not burn out like I did on Sunday.

I still haven't figured out where all the bulb picking crew members are all coming from; not all of them take the bus in the morning, and some get a ride and are dropped off at the farm marshalling area. Then some "arrive" an hour into the day's work, presumably as part of the perps' metered introduction games. Three of the "new hires" arrived after we started bulb picking, and lo, if one them isn't a little wacky, and started to stare at me a number of times when I would recovene with the crew at break times. And of course, the wacky one somehow "knows" to sit in the next seat to me, and also later drape his white plastic bag over my seat. And I noted the perps also white-marked the seat in front of me, and another of the odd regulars left a white napkin on the floor, a frequently used prop to get a white color reading in a dark area. As it "so happened", the three new hires all needed a bus ride back into downtown, having come from no determinable location when they started work. This isn't the first time that "extra employees" have come from somewhere else to quietly join the bulb picking crew.

I am too tired to add much more to this, and will likely be in the same state tomorrow night. Hopefully I can get the rest of the pictures in then. This posting has also had a considerable amount of typo sabotage, and well as syntax sabotage, and has been relatively onerous to compose.

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