Sunday, August 31, 2008

One Dreadlock At A Time +10-16-2008 updates

No posting yesterday, and not much happened last night, save another forced nap attack; a two hour sleep from 2050h to 2300h on the bed, and then doing the bathroom routine (face wash, dental hygeine) to then get into bed. Having such a late nap is another never-before behavior, or more like, new imposition. I got to sleep in short order for a 8.5 hour sleep, awakening with dreams of working on high buildings, not exactly anything I would select myself owing to my aversion to heights, and was a planted dream show IMHO.

Yesterday was a day on the daffodil bulb sort conveyor, and there was no one waving their hands in front of me thankfully, and more chat with the negro woman 3' away. This set the stage for a later hissy fit stunt by another woman during an unscheduled conveyor slowdown, complaining that we (me and the negro woman) were "yapping" and let too many rotten bulbs down the conveyor line. (We are back to sorting daffodil bulbs, taking out the rotten and misshapen ones). She then went on to accuse me of pointlessly waving my hands over the bulbs and not looking, which was a mysterious charge as there was no way she could see what I was looking at because my back was facing her as I direct my attention "upstream" on the conveyor belt to ensure I have the greatest amount of time to trap the defective bulbs. Anyhow, she went into a big huff, and did the exact same thing that Ms. C of the story did, looking away in an exaggerated tone of upsetness. Been there, done that, that being the passive-aggressive bullshit hissy fits, and I got a fair number of those in the days of Ms. C's association. (I hesitate to use the word "courting", as it was more like yo-yo-ing me with emotional blowups, hissy fits and then the odd dash of romantic intrigue).

Another of the strange farm worker characters arrived yesterday, "somehow" coming later on the city bus and being there for the ride home, the Redshirt Wacko, a faux schizophrenia act that keeps getting in my face. I have no tolerance for wackos, and no doubt the perps know this by way of subconscious recall elicitation and want to inculcate me with more tolerance. And even greater intolerance when said wacko is dressed in a red shirt all the time, packs plastic bags around me, dumps his shoe on my back, dumps his coffee in the aisle of the crew bus and worst of all, has freaking dreadlock hair, surely one of the greater Unfavored hairstyles going.

The Redshirt Wacko has a green Mao hat which masks his hair for the most part, and two days ago after some preliminary choreographed movement of the gangstalking "coworkers" while I was sitting at the outdoor picnic table at day's end and waiting for the crew bus, the Redshirt Wacko sits on the bench, back toward me. Then my attention was directed to his hair that was outside of his hat, and there were two dreadlocks poking out. The perps had me get up and continue waiting up elsewhere. Then yesterday, after a similar orchestrated preliminary gangstalking parade at day's end, the Redshirt Wacko does exactly the same thing, sits in the same place with his back toward me, thie time with about five dreadlocks visible from underneath his hat. Again, the perps have me "react" and head to the crew bus. And so it would seem that I have an unconscious loathing of dreadlock hair, and the perps are doing what they always do; visually parse the unpleasant/Unfavored sight/object/behavior into short timed exposures and/or visual subset portions, and then incrementally building up up the unpleasant visage. Though sometimes the perps will do this stunt in reverse; start with the most complex image/object and then incrementally render it into smaller components for me to see.

And speaking of more Unfavoreds, at 0630h in the morning, after dumping the garbage in the now outside dumpster, (the garbage room has "vagrants" continuing to sleep on the concrete floor), and when in front of the apartment building, the perps put on the freaking dwarf act again. Yet another Unfavored that the perps are continuing to expose me to, now at least the fifth time, with the said dwarf posing as a tenant on my floor in the partment outside the laundry room door. Convenient, this choice placement, which also happens to be what I call Common Room #2, where all manner of demographically improbable tenants emerge in any given week; Asian couples, biking dudes and now a dwarf.

The ringing church bells noise has given way to hallway antic noise; voice, laughing, (in both female and male variants) metal bashing, clicking and clanging and some overhead pounding noise. The latter being totally manufactured as there is a 12" concrete/steel ceiling/floor in between me and upstairs putative neighbors. As always, it appears most, but not all, sounds are projected from some location, the sirens being the most obvious candidate.

I am back from a vistitation to the LD store to refill my prescriptions; the perps fucked me into throwing out the new bottles and keeping the old ones with the new medication and therefore the essential Rx number was missing to arrange a refill by phone. Just another stunt.

I got a yellow shoed gangstalker in the elevator who then joined three of his "mates" to loiter around while I walked past them. Then another three males were on the sidewalk, then two more parties of four males each were also in a state of flux, one of them jay walking within 10' of the crosswalk. This was 13 males within 60' of sidewalk; the perps have been big on male gangstalker clusters, possibly because they are Unfavored, and to elicit some kind of reaction they wish to quantify in bioenergetic terms, and then later nullify. Just the usual. I notice that they are still keeping the Scottish accented dude around me when doing farm work, so the perps haven't totally captured the bioenergetics of that Unfavored demographic, and likely past traumatization association.

I got a yellow sports jacketed dude doing the "look-away" (at nothing in particular) while walking toward me on my way to the LD store. As soon as he was out of my peripherial vision there was an immediate same colored yellow plasma beam over the concrete of the sidewalk, 6' long, 2" wide and arrayed parallel to my direction of travel. There was a third yellow wearing male when I came back, he doing the running thing as so many gangstalkers do, breaking out into a run for no apparent reason. And if you haven't surmised as to what I think of yellow colored clothing on males, you should know that I loathe the sight of it.

At the LD store, the perps sucked me into getting Neurogena Acne Wash when I reallly wanted Neurogena Deep Clean, conveniently blanking me out of what I wanted and sucking me into thinking it was a new packaging design. They also removed all the Deep Clean from the display, so there wasn't any of the product to select. They also kept a gangstalker buzzing around me as I was attempting to figure out this game of fuckery. Then they had my old supervisor from one of my forestry jobs to encircle me and sit down while I was speaking with the East Indian male pharmacist to refill my prescription. My seeming old supervisor and I looked at each other, and neither of us said anything; my excuse is that I haven't seen him in at least 20 years, after he retired, so I don't know if for sure it was the same person, but he fitted the height, size, comportment and general countenance of that individual.

The ongoing perp antics while I pay for my items at the LD store continued, along with populating the checkout with Unfavored demographic group specimens, aka gangstalkers. The obese woman cashier rustled the plastic bags, while I was paying by way of debit card, and was joined by a ponytailed and bearded male on the adjacent phone/PA system. As always, any kind of electromagnetic disturbance in my proximity is a perp managed event, and they cannot get enough cell phones and other like devices around me for long enough.

As tomorrow is Labor Day, and I am going to my parents' place tonight, I will wind up this blog posting now, save some anecdotal stories copied in below, most of which was conveyed to Tim D. Bunker (tidbunker email handle- get it?) in my email response to his inquiry as to whether the TI experience is real or not. (He hasn't responded and perhaps he is away, or perhaps his/my email was blocked). Anyhow, here are some stories for you, almost a good as pictures.

There have been the odd purposeful "tells" dropped by family members usually; here is a sample.
I complained to my mother when I saw a hospital based gangstalker/patient in 2003 recieving an envelope in a building that was 300' from the hospital (I was walking toward the building from outside, and the person recieving the envelope was inside). I said to my mother, "when will I be compensated?" (Adopting the understanding that the gangstalker/patient was being compensated with the contents of the envelope at that very moment , as she moved on within a day). My mother said, "you will be, you will be".

In 06-2003 immediately following my hospital incarceration I was staying at my parents until I could find my own place. Each morning there was someone in the atic above for at least five minutes thumping about. I couldn't get my head around how someone could get up there, (hadn't been exposed to many teleportation stunts then). I was usually prone whne these overhead thumpings occured, and in a light sleep except for one morning when I was up early for "some reason". I heard the thumping in the atic, and was getting out of bed to investigate it when I overheard my mother say in a loud anxious whisper, "he's awake". Which meant that the reference was to me, as there wasn't any other context that made any sense. So, how is it that my mother knew I was getting up from another room through two closed doors (25' away), and why did she feel compelled to say something and to whom? The thumping noise in the atic stopped within five seconds.

In 2003 I complained to one of my swimmer team mates about the harassment, not knowing he was party to past covert monitoring and scripted events at that time, and he said "hang in there, its worth it".

I was talking to my mother about various possessions and belongings, especially those related to camping. I said something like "my camping days are over" (aged 53 at the time, on a disability income and no means to undertake such an activity any more) and my mother said something to the effect of "don't be so sure".

I was talking to my brother about various general future portents, going out to the year 2050, and I said something to the effect that I would not be around to care then, and he responded in a way that suggested with certainty that I would be. (I would be 96 in 2050).

There have been a few more of these "tells" and at the time I thought they were mistakes, but as I came to appreciate the high degree of control and precision as to what I see, hear, and think, I now suspect these were purposeful. For what purpose, I don't know. This is an extension of the ongoing ambulatory gangstalkers making extra obvious feints and movements, all of them odd in the context, and decidecly purposeful.

Another "tell", and strictly a visual one, was a camoflaged dressed dude lounging outside the LD store when I entered (no one does this, except him so far), and when in the store at the checkout, an older woman starts babbling to me about where to line up for the checkout, and the camo dressed dude comes into the store, and from 20' away, beckons her to come toward him. These two individuals appeared to be unrelated or unassociated in a normal context, save this strange visual instruction to which the woman immediately followed.

Another "tell", or at least one that I treat as such, was a weekly group discussion meeting I was involved in, and someone mentioned something about me singing, and I said "I cannot sing to save myself" and all eight (or so) laughed together. None of them knew if I could really sing or not, and I was telling them truthfully that I could not, so what was so uniformly funny about that?

There are a few more of these anecdotes, but that should give your some idea that the harassment, control, and exposure to other phenomenon is authentic and analysed all the time. As the perceptive and eloquent Rachael O. of On Gangstalking summarized the TI experience;
We do not imagine the stalking and harassment. We do not imagine strangers knowing way too much about us or that we are treated like mindless toys our whole lives. The whole thing is creepy and a living hell. True insanity would be much, much easier.
Have a harassment free Labor Day for the TI's in the reading audience on the other side of this LCD display.

Friday, August 29, 2008

Enough Napping

No posting yesterday owing to yet another nap attack. I was online for about 40 minutes after a day's daffodil bulb sorting, and had this strange compelling sensation to shut down the PC, and go and read a book, the Hidden Messages in Water. Not having any self volition to resist, I followed this "instruction" and did. Then again, another compelling notion to take a nap while I was on the bed reading. I was not sleepy and had some doubts that I was even going to nap, and lo, two hours later, I awoke. So, at nearly 2200h, I went to the nearby supermarket to get more goat milk as the perps had soured it (IMHO) three days ahead of the "best before" date. There was plenty of gangstalker action outside, but no major annoyances. I did get the cardboard box act on the sidewalk; a woman with a stack of nested cardboard boxes "happened" to be coming toward me when I was headed to the supermarket. And there was at least one stocking/stalking cart loaded with cardboard boxes in the store on my route inside. It would seem that cardboard boxes are becoming a portable brown color reference as they are are "showing up" in many more strange locations and juxtapositions of late. The perps will even lay black plastic objects on them for a localized plastic/brown color reading at the above mentioned conveyor belt.

The above ramble was to say that I really didn't have sufficient time to write a blog yesterday, and if am beginning to wonder if it was a way to fake out some of my readership, having them look for a new posting and there wasn't one. Believe it or not, such trivial pursuits carry much interest to the perps. So, maybe I have a larger readership of one, as Google Analytics suggested.

Since then, I cannot now get access to the blog readership data, (Google Analytics) so I am back in the prior clueless state; writing in the hope that I have a regular reader or two. The reality is that it is better than being in the decieved state, getting erroneous statistics. In a TI's world, ignorance has more value than in the conventional world; deception is at every corner and crevice of one's thoughts, and often it is better not to know to save the mental thrashing as to whether something is real or not. As mentioned in past blog postings, the perps devote much attention to maintaining FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt), with the emphasis on the latter two in my case.

And with TIDBunker as the lastmost blog commenter, which precipitated shutting down the comments for a time, (still in effect), I don't have this alternate means of communication, the Blogger comments. I sent TIDBunker a long email tonight, and I have no idea how he is going to explain how serious I take his inquiry with an email name like that. Yet another front to deal with, hopefully for the last time.

I was assigned to pick weeds in the cabbage patch this morning; pulling them out by hand along the rows of cabbages, some 600' long, and weeds every foot. The job lasted for 2.5 hours, and the usual odd coursing of my "colleagues" about me was in progress. A brief description of associated oddities and a few others over the last few days;
  • the walk toward me and then walk back for no apparent reason stunt at least twice today, and at least once or more each day,
  • the encirclement stunt at least twice today,
  • the brown jacket wearing gangstalker walking past me making an inane observation about raingear, while a same brown colored vehicle was headed in the same direction, some 60' away,
  • constant row hopping by all others when we each were assigned to a cabbage row to pick weeds in,
  • the redshirted wacko placing his red shirt 10' from me in the wet cabbages and then encircling me to then pass by along a row of cabbages 4' away, presumably to test some kind of distance dependent residual effect/differential between his red shirt and his current state (a black shirt underneath), following on from the same fucker who sat beside me on the outbound crew bus,
  • the FUD stunt as to whether I was sorting or weeding, and have me exit the bus to find out, only to intend to get on the bus again and then an operative jumps in the bus ahead of me and bags my just vacated seat, replete with him sitting 12" from my sodden cotton gloves hanging from the rail at the seat back in front of him (funny he didn't enquire about whose gloves they were, as I guess he knew),
  • and when doing the morning employee check in that utilizes a red laser light scan of the barcode, having at least four red, orange or pink shirted operatives clustered around me,
  • having a pink jacket hanging from the 4' yellow steel/concrete post that protects the corner of the door opening for over 6 days now,
Anyhow, a 1000h re-assignment to the daffodil bulb sorting conveyor line saved the day from backbreaking agony in picking weeds. And for once, they didn't put anyone across the conveyor belt from me waving their hands in front of me and then selecting bulbs or objects that I was about to select. It seems to be a big deal of late, thwarting intention and having someone else (read, operative) snatch it instead. It is fucking bizarre that it so consistent.

The perps continue to put on the Scottish accented "worker", in my proximity though he keeps the chat to a minimum. Regular readers will know that the perps frequently expose me to Scottish accents and that these are a component of the Unfavored demographic groups. For once, I did not find the accent so grating, and I am wondering if the perps are changing my usual negative response to something neutral. More unconsenting neural modifications it would seem, and it has never bothered the perps to manipulate my recall, now or at the time negative associations formed. My aversion to Scottish accents may have been a result of meeting the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron in Montreal when I was two to three years old, though no conscious recall of any visitations exist. Much of the Unfavored demographics freakshow appears to relate to elicitations of subconscious recall, something the perps could not fuck with until recently. It would seem that the current focus on having a larger amount of red and red variant colors around me is part of this campaign.

Time to call this one done for the day, as I must get to bed earlier now that the big push is on to pick daffodil bulbs off the conveyor line for the last day before a Labor Day shutdown.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Unscheduled Sabotage Abatement

Last night, after forced into a delayed towel laundering, why, if the perps didn't pull a major toilet stunt after posting yesterday's blog. They forced a rare late evening crap, and then backed up the toilet again, this time to overflow levels, dumping about 1/2" of shitwater on the floor that had to be soaked up by the just-laundered towels. Such a coincidence, along with the forced later laundry timing, making neighborly (har, har) laundry use untenable until this morning. And lo, if the towels didn't unload more lint again, an on/off problem that seems consistent with the assholes creating bird shit-like marks all over the streets and especially at intersections, with no overhead roosting cover stories.

So..., instead of picking daffodil bulbs, the assholes forced a home day, dealing with last night's towel laundering again, this time using a different towel color makeup than yesterday's towel laundry load. It is all too calculated, having some towels re-laundered, and others not, along with forced use of the towel with my hands immediately before using it to dry myself after a shower. And there were plenty more other forced touchings of seeming crumbs and lint this morning to suggest that the perps are now in a phase of extended touches and contact with specific objects and food items. This is also supported by the extended head leanings of the shills and operatives on the daffodil job mentioned in a recent blog posting; the "too tired" bullshit again, leaning their heads on seat backs, conveyor belt supports, picnic tables, walls and the rest of the faux world weary bullshit acts that erupt in my presence.

This being yet another forced "home day" suggests the assholes don't like me to be absent for more than four days at a time. They continue to fuck me with stunts or mood states to then force me to have a shut-in day, or something like it, perhaps one outing for shopping. It is all too repetitive to be anything other than orchestrated life-rape, still ongoing after 6 years, and the same assholes pissing around with the placement of lint, water drops and crumbs at every turn, among other telported impositions. I also note that the perps are also increasing plasma activity, placing brown, yellow, red or blue light point sources and dots in my vision on an as-needed basis, especially if what I am looking at is deficient in one of those colors.

And it would seem that my email is getting sabotaged; more than one unreturned email is not a coincidence, and that would include the Anonymous commenter who goes by the email name, "Tim D. Bunker", with an email of "tidbunker". Get it? Even the perps let me in on that one, but only after "not getting it" for the first few reads of the name. In my view, "debunking" is code for vituperative and wilful obstreperousness. (Obstreperous; resisting control or restraint in a difficult manner).

And now, when I want to use an infrequently used word, the perps have me misspell it, and force a visit to to read its definition and "learn" to spell it again. I never had a spelling problem in my life until the last few years, all concurrent with the harassment fuckery. Now, they make me go through this ritual each time, re-learning spellings and definitions; been there, done that, over 50 years ago, and the perps were monitoring me then, if not guiding and controlling me at the time.

More phoney phone calls again; the perps like to present foreign names in spamming emails, and for the first time have begun to do this very thing on my phone's call display. There has been a more significant presence of strange names "happening"; verbally, or visually, they like to gauge my reaction to non-English surnames, first names, etc. Just another stunt of increased recent prominence. Yesterday they put on another ISP (seemingly) phone call, yet again referencing the term "cable" as their inaccurate euphemisim for "TV". It was only a week or so ago that the ISP phoned me about this in the same vague manner, and now they are at it again. More syntactical ambiguity; been there, done that, it would be over if it weren't for the World Gestapo fucking up the victim in ways they are still attempting to determine, all the while on top of my every move and thought.

A busy afternoon, suddenly waking from the imposed docility, and summoning the motivation to acquire safety toe boots, the first in three decades, and hopefully, of vital need, and not just a ruse to screw me out of money. I got shafted in not getting the 40% discount with my VIP card from my brother, and supposedly that was because I was not an employee. Instead, I got a 20% discount. I had my same blue shirt dudes wandering around me, and one was on the spot as soon as I decided which pair I "decided" (read, per mind fuck script), and they spent a lot of time circulating around where I had been trying out two different pairs. Eventually I settled on the brown leather pair, and that set up the extra brown colored gangstalking, both vehicular and ambulatory. Of course all the reference colored vehicles were in place, at least three cases of four white vehicles in file, and similarly for silver-grey colored vehicles. As always, my presence anywhere gets the full-on gangstalking treatment, and that includes jerking me around with obstructing stalkers to take up more time to keep me circulating for longer. And lo, if a fuckwit wasn't looking for safety toed boots ahead of me, with the salesman adressing us both at the same time, when each of us thought it was for them only. More inadvertent (seemingly) ambiguity games, and there has to be at least twenty of these per week. The fuckwit "happened" to be looking for exactly what I was looking for, 6" high safety boots made with a Kevlar composite, an improvement on the steel toe design. So..., the salesman, a crooked tooth slimey dude, "happened" to go through the same rundown for the fuckwit as for me. Once he brought out the two pairs that fitted, he ignored me, except for when I sought him out, and then that got disrupted by another staff member. One doesn't get any respect when spending money, or at least, not as a TI. Just more fucking around according to the script.

My outings were heavily populated with skinheads of all stripes; the suited executive, down to the street bum and in between. The even posted a skinhead each side of me in the elevator when returning with my boot purchase, and their discussion seemed to be out of an old movie script. They spoke as if mutually loathing each other after a long absence. Fucking bizarre for this seeming derelict building.

2105hJust now, a zapping of my right hand pinkie finger just as I read the words "total war" from this interesting link (Systems of Surveillance) on human experimentation, especially the nonconsensual aspects. It is apalling that there was widespread ionizing radiation experimentation on unsuspecting subjects in the US and Canada in the 1950's and 1960's. My conspiratorial take on this was that this was done to supplement the work of the perps, aka World Gestapo, Shadow Government, The Powers That Be and other titles one can deduce. As far as I know I have not been irradiated with ionizing radiation, the alpha, beta and gamma and like rays, and have only had the odd x-rays from the dentist and once when I was hit with a series of strange symptoms in 1989 that appeared to be panic attacks in retrospect. Interestingly, this latter clinical investigation was conducted in Nelson, BC where I had moved to in the middle of the panic attack spell I was subjected to. Nelson "happens" to be in the downstream weather track of Hanford, Washington state, the notorious nuclear research site, now designated as a polluting blight for all its ionizing radiation leaks. This was the same location where a neighbor burned PVC and other plastics every Saturday, presumably to lighten his garbage load, and the frigging smell would permeate our residence that was downhill.

I also once had a holiday that was only a few miles from another notorious nuclear site, Windscale, aka Sellafield in 1994. I didn't choose the location and wouldn't have, as it was supplied by my ex's relatives. Little did I know that there might be more sinister aims to that holiday.

More noise stalking in the form of overhead thuddings (of 12" of concrete and steel) as I read the pre-scripted key words or conduct actions they constantly place in front of me. And then a 40 minute phone call from my in-town brother who just got back from a week away to find that his neighbor has had contractors running equipment over his front lawn. Been there, done that. And now the perps are getting my brother steamed up, presumably as a method to add a property territorial theme to this harassment. The perps have me broke on a disability income, so there is no way that this issue could arise in my circumstances, so they have their perp abetting family member put on this show instead.

And while on the phone, the creepy crawlie sensations have "erupted" on my back, even if pressed into the office chair I am sitting on.

Time to call this one done and post it, no matter if it hasn't been reviewed and edited.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Bone Chilling August

A rather chilly day in August was on while I was relatively immobile, sorting through the conveyor belt of import daffodil bulbs, looking to eliminate debris, stones and soil clods mainly. The Agriculture Inspectors came around twice, which is code for someone standing directly behind me (aka, gangstalking) with a reasonable excuse. The latter two inspectors came just before the afternoon break and then as a seeming part of their duties, stood in the same location I had been standing at while the conveyor belt was shutdown. As mentioned in past recent blogs, the operatives and shills cannot get enough of standing where I once stood, which is also applicable to walking, as I have my posse around me, at work and in public.

And it was a super vehicular gangstalking today when coming back on the crew bus; slews of white, black and silver grey vehicles accompanying two to six embedded red colored vehicles in a tight cluster at the center. Traffic would pass by for minutes at a time in this mode. All the while they kept me talking to this Australian ditz woman who "happened" to get off at the same stop as I did, though she doesn't take this one in the morning. As far as I can tell, I am the only passenger who gets off and on at the same location, while all the others, up to 16 of them, get on and off at varying bus stops. The perps are more concerned about varying the operatives and shills than they are about presenting a realistic bus/passenger egress. As always, when it is important, the perps will dispense with the guise in their quest for bioenergetics interaction information that they really want.

A turbaned Punjabi man sat next to me on the inbound crew bus ride, and it seems that the take down of the larger yellow school bus was timed to have the same passengers sit closer together now. He got off about 10 minutes before I did, and when I got off, why there was an East Indian dude blocking the sidewalk within 15' of the bus. Talk about fucking rude and blatant, it doesn't come any more obvious than that. I also had a five man posse on me when I got back to the apartment lobby; two in the elevator, a negro dude to precede me through the front door which was held open by this strange kid, and a lastmost vagrant loitering outside the lobby, visible through the glass, and fresh from his extended hug with a brown wearing blonde woman some 60' away, and who then tracked me all the way to the building. That wasn't all the ambulatory gangstalking street action for the three blocks it took me to walk from the crew bus drop-off location, as there was at least three times the normal pedestrian traffic on the street. The mornings, 0650h, are the same; the perps have ramped up the vehicle and ambulatory gangstalking to be twice what it was on a weekday back in July when I first started this daffodil bulb picking junket. Even the police are joining the morning gangstalking throngs; there is no less than a minimum of four drive-bys or walk-bys for the 15 minutes that I typically wait for crew bus pickup.

And I routinely get the hooded street vagrant dude attempting to bum a quarter from me during this enforced delay for gangstalking at that time. They like to have them line me up, and then for me to notice them, and to interpret their intent, neutral or foe. There are no real friends when the perps enforce reduced social interaction.

Every day I toil on the farm has also been a laundry day, as "somehow" I get covered in soil, even if on the conveyor belt all day, standing on concrete in the same place for the most part. No one else gets as much soil on them as I do. Today was an exception; I did a towel load instead tonight as the assholes have caused the new towels to "somehow" lint, and must be separated. And naturally, they have also demotivated me in getting a refund and a new towel set. More games; are the current ones the keeper towels, or do I have to go through this bullshit again with a new set?

And lo, if the assholes didn't prevent me from getting on with the laundry, and when I was finally allowed to do so, why, another tenant "happened" to be using the washing machine, which became a later delay in using the dryer. Finally, I was allowed to put the dryer load on, and it will be an hour from now, assuming I am allowed to recall that they are there. I have suffered many laundry thefts and sabotage, and this activity continues to be a perp obsession. More gangstalkers are in the hallway when I venture out to the laundry room, and today's obstruction was the first I have experienced in the 15 months of living in this seeming derelict apartment building.

There was a hint of rain when I walked back from the crew bus drop off, and I see that it came on to be a full evening time rain, replete with the hissing sound of tires on pavement, moving water from their tire treads. Regular readers will know that there is a profound conicidence rate of rainfall onset with my activities, nearly always begining as I set off, just as I get back to my apartment, or even timed to occur as I step out of a store. As the sun incidence also seems to be terribly important to the perps, it does not surprise me that they appear to be managing the weather to suit their every need, as they are unrelenting in keeping me in the harassment zone. Even the farm vehicles are left with their headlights on, and which happens to be aimed at where I am about to sit in readiness for a work break. There are endless faux reflections which also "erupt" and they seem to find me for extended durations that defy normal reflections in brightness.

The typo sabotage is getting severe, and the perps have cranked up the provocations and rant "responses" tonight, so I will post this now to staunch this blatant fuckery.

Back again, as seems to be a perp theme; the premature sign-off, good bye, etc. On of their longstanding games is to have me either bookmark a link, or add to my wish list, now at over 1,000 books. And of late, the latter has been "modified" to have the wish list button from the display removed, to force a game of having me find it with the mouse by moving the cursor over the white location of the removed buttons. And of course, the game is then to further confuse me by changing the layout to have me select (with no visible button) the order, wedding list or other feature instead of the desired wish list button. This is just a sordid example of what small surveilling minds do to create forced web page button selection "errors".

Monday, August 25, 2008

Catch Up

No posting yesterday, as I was subject to a very unusual nap attack. I was made to nap for two hours in the evening, from 1930h to 2130h (9:30 pm) and was awakened only to find myself unable to get up from the nap, and then I lapsed into another two hour sleep before I got up at 2330h. Essentially, I was "napped" the entire evening on the bed, only to be awakened at bedtime to then sleep in the bed.

The precursor events are likely tied to the above nap attack, as it was a day of digging daffodil bulbs in the rain for the most part. Not a good experience as my rain gear was sabotaged as part of the skullduggery. The rain coat zipper "broke" and was unusable, and the pants leaked at the knees as I was kneeling when digging the bulbs. The rain finally lifted in the mid afternoon, though that did not prevent me from five pounds of caked mud per boot.

Today I got some new raingear, having thrown out yesterday's rather than cleaning it as it was not functional. That the raingear was directly placed in a black garbage bag with the other trash, and taken down to the ground level garbage room was likely another bonus for the perps. They have shut down the garbage chute, and that means walking the garbage out. I also noted that the recycle tote bins and the dumpster were pulled out of the garbage room still, with the latter being used as some kind of makeshift room for "camping" by the faux vagrants. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the energetic interactions of me and concrete, and that having operatives camp, lie down, sit, or otherwise contact concrete more directly is all part of the continuing research/harassment.

Today, I was back on the daffodil bulb sorting line, and it was a special event as a purchase of a new variety was the subject of an Agriculture Canada inspection. So far, we have processed four palettes of this new daffodil variety, scrutinizing the unloaded sacks on a conveyor for any soil clots or rocks. They had eight sorters ensuring that there was to be no soil contamination from this UK supply of daffodil bulbs. I was moved around to do sorting on both sides of the conveyor, and I noted that others came to stand in my old spot, all part of the ongoing games in attempting to stand in my precise former location on concrete. This bulb sort was "so special" that we had to place olive drab green plastic tarps underneath the working area, and double bag (plastic again) all the rock and soil lumps. We were to even let the rotten bulbs go, something that is totally opposite to what we usually do, culling out the defective ones. Anyhow, all manner of special measures were in place, and much of it related to utilizing plastic bags and tarps at greater frequencies than we normally do. Having someone sweep a broom over where I formerly stood or traversed on top of the plastic tarp is also a huge draw for the perps in choreographing my every move.

My new raingear was given to me free by the outgoing manager, and lo, if it wasn't a bright dayglo orange with reflective strips across the front and back of the rain coat. Most TI's know that the perps are rabid about getting dayglo colors in as close as possible to the victim, and today, in taking the raingear home was a huge vehicular gangstalking event. There were some 3,000 to 5,000 vehicles on the 20 minutes of highway travel, and they even were bold enough to put four to six red vehicles together in mobile formations, usually lead and followed by white and silver-grey vehicles. The perps were into heavy color formations for the mid-greys and black colored vehicles, often moving up the greyscale from white through black with at least four intervening tones. They were also heavy on the deep metallic blue vehicles in some locations, having one lead the crew bus for the first 10 minutes of travel. It was lead by a tractor trailer (white trailer) that took a circuitous route to also stay out in front for about 20 minutes of travel.

One physics researcher of the unconventional, J. K. Harms has a reasoned theory on what properties constitute dayglo colors (constructive interference). I suspect he is correct, as it fits the perp agenda/behavior with so many other of their activities. The perps make sure I cannot understand his lucid writings, keeping me cognitively impaired as to the physics of what they are up to. Which makes me wonder when next, and in what circumstances will I be using this newly acquired dayglo raingear. One can be sure that I will be the last to know; all manner of planted notions of hitting big-time money in the Athabaska oilsand projects "come to mind", but this has to be wholly planted, as keeping me broke is keeping me contained.

I have the suspicion there is much more to write about, and yet I cannot form a theme bring these into this blog posting. What I am trying to say is that the full scope of the last two day's harassment activities isn't getting as fully detailed as it could be. There has been so many feints and games going on, especially the interpersonal distance challenges that go on for no seeming reason. On the bulb conveyor line for example, of all the seven sorting personnel, they placed the red net bags the UK bulbs came in some 2' behind me, and no one else. After I was moved to a new location on the conveyor belt, they then moved these same red net bags opposite for me to see the entire time, and were adding to the pile of them incrementally as the bags were emptied of bulbs. Then the perps dropped some notion that I have always hated the sight of red mesh, and of course failed to enlighten me as to how that came about. The red mesh bags might be yet another subconscious recall prompt, but I have no way of verifying it, and don't particularly care. Just leave me alone and the cash in my bank account.

The above is another way of saying that I am running out of gas to add to this posting, and I am getting some severe pop-up sabotage in mid-word as I am typing, along with yelling at the assholes to remove them, which they won't.

Time to call this one done, and post it.

One more notion that "came to mind"; what is with all the shills and operatives placing their head onto surfaces for extended durations? In the crew bus at least one person is leaning on the rail in front of them as if totally tired and whacked out on their way to work, and others doing the same, putting their head on the conveyor belt frame (red painted steel) as if too tired to hold their head up. Other strange dudes have been leaning on utility poles at intersections, as if they need to support themselves waiting for the traffic signal to change. They even had two men at diagonally opposite corners both leaning on the nearest utility pole. Today, while headed to and from the laundry room in the hallway, a blonde woman was leaning her head on the wall, as if totally tired and unable to hold it up. More head hanging stunts are sure to follow.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Twin Turbans

A day of toil in the soil for daffodil bulb picking; not that I was free from harassment with plenty of the bulbs ejecting from my hands with no conventionally understood force application. This being a Saturday is when the Punjabi employees take a break, but not today. They put on the usual crowd, yellow turban and then a black turban. Then they put on a new Punjabi that didn't appear to say anything, one that somehow knew to give me the stare for the first time when I passed by. He was a black turbaned Punjabi with a big grey beard with blue eyes, and I have no idea if it was the real deal, or a morphover of some quisling/operative asshole. It is unusual that a new Punjabi was hired, so perhaps this is just a "for me" act all in an attempt to swamp me with the most acceptable turban color, that being black. Both were sitting in front of me in the next seat on the minibus, and I am sure it is another round of the perps attempting to figure out the bioenergetics as to why I hate the sight of turbans and most headwear. Not my problem, so why am I relentlessly hounded over my dislikes, and did another party have any role in creating these subconscious recollections they are attempting to emulate?

And speaking of intractable ventures, I see that my nemesis Anonymous is back making comments, now blocked again. My very first flaming reader, one who knows my name and won't send me an email to debate his ongoing tirade. At least I have one more reader than the Google Analytics pulled up, something I want to get off my PC as the perps use it to plant pop-up boxes in my face whenever at critical moments.

I was working the back end of a field for most of the day, and after the afternoon break, and being out of sight from the road, I took off my shirt in an attempt to get a start on a tan. That drew one of the more persistent gangstalking "coworkers" to arrive, and thankfully only her. Anyhow, the "tanning session" only lasted 20 minutes until the sun was obscured by cloud, and I called it quits and put my shirt back on. Then I moved to a new row to begin digging for more bulbs. About then the box delivery truck arrived, two more guys joined in to help them unload them, and then at least three more "coworkers" arrived. It would seem that the perps in their prevention of me tanning, in the sun or in a booth, need to understand something about me and sun exposure (on white skin) and allowed a rare 20 minute tanning session to be the focus of a gangstalking convergence. Like I have mentioned, they seem not to be able to pick up vitamin D generation.

The perps have stopped me from visiting tanning booths/beds in the past by shutting down the business just before my arrival. Another method was to nail me with pulsing pains to the head while in the tanning booth. I found tanning booths/beds to be invaluable to get a tan started so I don't look so incredibly white skinned. No doubt this was under perp auspices, and here we are again, over five years later and 20 minutes of outside sun exposure makes for the day's major gangstalking event in the back end of a daffodil bulb field.

In the high harassment madness of the perps in 2002, they even had some kind of optical fibers poking out from the pot lamp in the ceiling of the tanning booth. I found them, and took them out and put them in an envelope in my briefcase. I had planned to examine them later, but lo, if the envelope and its contents had just plain vanished from my briefcase, which I made sure not to leave unattended. This wasn't the only item to be removed from my briefcase; a paper on ADD went missing, and in another event, my copy of the CT scan went missing. Most long term TI's have many similar stories where items go missing "by themselves", or conversely in my case, 50 to 250 teleported crumbs that "arrive" on my dinner plate for all three meals per day. Currently, I have boxes of clothes that have are missing from my locker, and some of the contents have "somehow" arrived back in my apartment. There have also been transferences, where the matress was stored at my brother's place and then "somehow" ended up at my parent's place. When I asked my brother as to how it happened, he didn't really have a convincing answer.

And while picking daffodil bulbs I noted my perp pals were up to old tricks; burning PVC plastic and managing the toxic fumes to be inhaled by me. When I lived in Nelson BC, a neighbor would do this every Saturday, right in the one of most ecologically aware areas of all of BC. Then my new neighbor did this in Victoria, about two years later,- a total illegality as burning substances are highly controlled in city bylaws. (Burning PVC's will create dioxins, a very toxic and persistent carcinogen). Today while picking bulbs, lo, if a farm neighbor didn't burn some plastics for me to yet again inhale as part of the perp's bizarre quest to find out how and why my bioenergetics is altered by trace level plastic residues that most of us have some measure of. Even polar bears have PFOA levels from teflon production. This from the gang who fucked up and allowed me to ingest them in the first place, the sick assholes. Don't ask me how ingesting yet more plastic pollutants aids the perp's cause, but they have been relatively consistent about this harassment method.

If my conspiratorial notions are accurate, the perps have their hand in all major technical advancements, and yet allowed these pollutants to be widespread over the globe. The perps tell me that the plastics have different energetic properties at the quantum level than at the cellular level, and this is the reason they innundate me with the "plastic bag people" (shoppers with plastic bags), PVC packing irrigation services trucks, have the faux vagrants tote their plastic bags in my path, and loads of other gangstalking feints all to test me out as to my reaction to these various plastics. Not my problem, so why am I being constantly hounded over it?

There won't ever be an answer to that, as I am the last to know, and the fuckers won't let me in on that.

A nightime shopping that had at least 200 assorted gangstalkers in action. Details might follow, or might be wiped from recall, though nothing too outrageous to report. Time to call this one done; early mornings for the next while.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Pointless Doctor Visit

I did my 30 min. walk to see the doctor, and it was arranged that he was out in the patient area when I arrived, and hence, did not sit down prior to seeing him. It is all very ordered and arranged, having me breeze in and directly to his office. It was the same pleasant banter, with me doing most of the talking, and he doing his eye rubbing, with and without his glasses on, something he does each time I visit. He is East Indian, almost Ghandi like, and is reasonably pleasant to talk to, unlike his Asian predecessor. Like I have mentioned before, the chain of doctors is of increasing browness, and my prediction is that the next one will be a negro in a year's time, when the current doctor gets gifted out of there. The doctor was wearing two shades of a similar green, a deep olive green, and a browner variant for his pants. Not the most flattering combination and nor did it suggest any summertime color selection.

The doctor is the fount of benefits, therefore he is a vital member of this "disability thing" I have got tagged with. Suffice to say, when I told him about the implied "don't come back" from the day program that offered the gym class twice a week, he didn't say anything. Not even offering to make an inquiry as to why I wasn't taken back into the classroom where the gangstalking is moderate. Just another strange reaction IMHO, the passive response thing again.

It has been a busy gangstalking day for olive drab green. I wore my jacket of the same color today, all to keep a letter inside the breast pocket for the doctor to fill out and then forward to the insurance company who covers my life insurance premiums while disabled. A big joke that, as I have no idea who the life insurance firm is, and if they would pay out for a Canadian in Canada after acquiring the policy coverage as part of my employment in Seattle, Wa, USA. It is an annual ritual to say the least, and gives the doctor an opportunity to diagnose me in the privacy of his office without me there, as he hasn't done so yet, just like the last one.

The first gangstalker popped out of the elevator on the sixth floor when I was getting in, an Asian girl in olive drab shorts and a top. Then she "realized" she was on the wrong floor and came back in again, effectively gangstalking where I had been standing waiting for the elevator.

There were plenty of other Unfavoreds of the ongoing freakshow (read, ambulatory gangstalking) around me; the red clothing was very evident today, as were wheelchairs (4), "plastic bagmen". long haired males, skinheads and grannies holding up the cashier at the checkout ahead of me with their fumbling act, and then "needing" another plastic bag to hold all their items in. Back to the perps plastic antics again, and it is a daily event in all the variations of plastics in common use.

I was wearing a black shirt today, and that also brought on extensive vehicular gangstalking, sometimes clusters of four black colored vehicles, and rarely less than two black colored vehicles together. I also deposited my check at the ATM, and lo, if both machines weren't tied up, and the one that was availible first was by way of an olive drab dressed male gangstalker vacating the ATM. The perps find no end of fascination with the contents of my wallet, and I assume that taking the green colored paycheck out was all part of the planning they put on for me. They had me use the last green $20 yesterday, and the only bills that I have in my wallet are a blue $5 and a purple $10. This makes for dull writing, but the perps have arranged at least 8 wallet "losses" in the past 20 years, and find the contents of my wallet intensely fascinating.

Now the siren cascade has erupted, just as I finished a forced fart. I am sure there is some plan behind all the noise barrages I get; the perps make a firm distinction between sounds that are new or rare, and seem to want to map them to sounds that I am wholly familiar with. I do not know which is preferred, as the perps often alternate between the two types of sounds.

An ongoing trail of loud mufflered vehicles and motocycles has pervaded the noisescape for the last 1.5 hours; about six per minute, and most often when I plug my ears, there is another planted noise just as I take my fingers off my ears. Hearing protection doesn't work as the assholes penetrate the sound dampening somehow, and render them useless.

An interesting read session of William Thomas' writings, that brought on plenty of noisestalking, especially with respect to the nuclear weapons stories. Said stories fitting the themes that the perps are so obsessed about.

Time to call this one done, save mentioning that Anonymous "showed up" again when the comments were reinvoked. My request to this person is to send me an email, as I don't really find that a blog is an appropriate place to conduct a defense of my medical history, such as it is. And identify yourself.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

A Day of Relative Rest

There is no rest for TI's; a day at home isn't as restful as it seems with jabbings to my fingers, inside my arms, in my right foot and in my nuts. And no posting yesterday as it was a day of "toil in the soil", picking daffodil bulbs on this site that should of been finished a week ago. My last field picking day before yesterday was 08-05-2008, more than two weeks ago on this same site and we returned there yesterday. Then they have selected individuals "talk it up" for my benefit as to the delays in progress. It is another "who knows" situation; why the delay, why the provacateurs talking it up (making excuses), and why do the perps keep on insisting that I think about this when I don't really care.

I was sent to the bulb sorting area yesterday to begin there, and lo, if they didn't change it up and have us go bulb picking (per above) instead. Thankfully it was not hot, and there were enough light on/off rains to suggest that they were timed for harassment purposes. I have been through these last minute switcheroos before, getting one tour guide who is swapped out after a minute or so, and a replacement one comes in. I have also had female cashiers swapped out for a male cashier in mid transaction as more curious event manipulation. Again, I have no idea as to why this is going on, except that it is much more often than before overt harassment onset, (BOH), 04-2002.

The yellow school bus used as the crew bus broke down yesterday, and it would seem that they needed to write this vehicle out of the script. Instead, they have yellow turbans planted around me, as well as ensuring I have yellow rain gear in my pack in response to expected weather conditions. It is interesting to note that the "coworkers" don't prepare for rain, and I can only assume they know they won't need it. I take my cue from them, though I am sure this will ultimately be a sucker punch one day.

And no posting yesterday due to a strange "need" for a nap during dusk onset. It was from 1900h to 2100h, going to sleep when it was bright out, and then waking up when it was dark. The diurnal dusk event is of intense interest to the perps, and I assume it is for the onset of vision changes for dim light conditions. Having me suddenly wake up in the dark is what they were looking for, rather than a slow incremental gradation. The evening was basically done for after the nap; I went to the local supermarket to get peanut butter which they had screwed me out remembering at least twice in the last week, all because they wanted me to aquire it only 12 hours ahead of its first use (this morning), instead of days or weeks in advance. This is all important for the perps, and I am getting fucking tired of playing these games of minutue for gumptionless criminals who have invaded my life and are too depraved to know they have overstayed their welcome.

I got my gangstalkers at the supermarket last night as I acquired at least two more brown food items, tortillas and chocolate. Again, the combinations of foods and colors is of vital interest and highly governed by the perps. And lo, if the stocking carts weren't out in the supermarket, putting on their brown cardboard box displays along with aisleway constriction and a skinheaded stocking/stalking "staff member".

Then, after shopping, I went to bed early, as if I needed the sleep, which I didn't. That made for a 10.5 hour sleep, more than 2.5 hours longer than I need. One can never get enough nap and sleep time for the assholes, and given that I wasn't interupted by strange dreams, what was it for? More "who knows" again.

When walking back from the crew bus drop off yesterday at 1730h, the perps put on six wandering skinheads, aka gangstalking males with a completely shaved head. This is straight from the Unfavored demographic group, and all were wearing their shirts and ties, but no sport or suit jacket. I got fed up with my vision being redirected to see these skinheads/freaks, and then they put on another ahead of me on the other side of the crosswalk I was about to cross. So, I averted my eyes again, and as the supposed skinhead passed by, I caught the glimpse of blonde hair. Once I got the sidewalk and looked back, the person was a blonde woman. In other words, the perps has swapped out the skinhead and replaced him with a blonde woman when I wasn't looking. So it would seem that they are continuing with the "blonde auric goodness" games, but in wholesale swapping form, and not the usual "auric penumbra" stunts. (The skinhead standing and walking behind the blonde woman is what they usually do for configurining a blonde (Favored) with a skinhead (very much Unfavored)).

And I see the perps were busy this morning whacking down another nearby boulevard tree. They like having the chipper rollers running in my proximity, not to mention the noise of the chippers and the associated chainsaw. They also put on some needless power washing opposite, adding to the noise and event barrage. The perps like me to visit newly cut trees and/or wood, and doubtless they were instrumental in my chainsaw milling activities of the late 1980's when I was into this. I sawed lumber directly from the log with a special chainsaw attatchment called an Alaskan Mill. One needs a very large chainsaw, 100cc displacement size or more, and for a time I had this gear with all the extras to facilitate it. Those were the days of relative freedom, little did I know it was highly orchestrated then.

I had my yoga class this morning, and the gangstalker brigade was all over me, when outbound, and then on my return when I made an extra loop to pick up my fleece sweater the perps had pulled the cuff stitching off. Last Saturday I attempted to pick up the item, and the shop was closed. This time the cost of retrieving it was that the sweater was inside a translucent red plastic bag. There is no more loathed abiotic combination of color and material than red translucent plastic, and here was my clothing inside of it. Once I had left the store I pulled the plastic off and shoved in the nearest street litter receptacle, and took the sweater in hand. I had my gangstalker sentry while doing this, he positioned on the sidewalk doing a blatant sit-around for no seeming reason. And of interest, the waste receptacle is within view of my apartment, some 300' away. So it would seem that the perps are attempting some kind of red plastic interaction detection from that distance, and will doubtless try to do so over the next few weeks.

I don't know why I immediately loathe the sight of red translucent plastic, but I know the perps know, and take many opportunities to plant this around me, especially the "plastic bag people" on the bus. They once arranged for a red condom to be placed at the junction of two walkways at my last apartment residence location, and it was "left there" for over two weeks, this disgusting color and substance. And for a location that undertook daily cleanup and grounds maintenance, it was mighty curious as to why they left such an offensive item in a prominent location, 8' from the front door. Regular readers will know that I speculate that I am the only apartment dweller in this building, and it was even more apparent at the last apartment block, the place being like a ghost town.

After breakfast I dealt with the disposal of recycle and trash garbage. Normally the trash is sent down the chute, but "somehow" the chute got plugged and cannot be fixed. Totally absurd nonsense. Anyhow, it seems the perps need me to walk down with the garbage and put in the bins inside the locked garbage room. My last two visitations had a "street person" (aka, criminal operative) sleeping on the floor of the garbage room. But today, and likely just for me, why, all the bins were pulled out of the garbage room, and were arranged on the drivethrough area. Not that any garbage trucks came today, but who cares, I don't look for much in the way of logical consistency anymore. And again, such changes are big things for the perps, and today's garbage disposal activity was likely planned for months or more, separating the bins from their usual location.

And a phone call a few minutes ago from the ISP/phone company, aka Shaw Cable. The dude was pushing "cable" service on me, trying to talk it up with a special offer. He couldn't stop calling it "cable", until I asked him, "you mean television?". Why yes, and my answer was no, I don't want TV. To me, this is another case of using one term, often an ambiguous one, and having me re-map it to a more precise term. Similarly, so-called green initiatives talk about "carbon" or "carbon footprint". No, it is "carbon dioxide" for chrissakes, though I have given up on this owing to the sheer ubiquity of this imprecise syntax. Actually, it is greenhouse gases such as CFC's as they are very much more damaging than carbon dioxide, but enough of this rectitude. Using alternate or unclear terms is also of intense perps interest, and I have no idea how much they are meddling to create this in the public domain.

The third round of chocolate consumption today was just completed. The eveningtime tea and chocolate is a total perp mind control invasion. I never had tea at this time of day and I don't need the chocolate either. All to play more brown color games where they can get it close to my brain, from inside the mouth. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed with this color and have created some kind of early developmental (age 2 to 5) subconscious traumatization association with this color that they are attempting to resolve. The Indian Lake Project provides some clues, though I have no recollection of this place and the military activity related to testing children. One such photo shows children in cages; Caucasian with negros and blind children. The latter two factor heavily in the gangstalking action, especially planting negros in my proximity. That I had two negros working for me, and then later, a negro boss in Seattle just wasn't enough action for the perps. I suspect that skin color, especially of negros, factors into the perps' brown color games.

And speaking of the Unfavored, I notice that the perps put on the Scottish accented kid on this farm work crew. They use him judiciously, but it doesn't take more than a minute before I cannot stand the sound of his accent. Again, I have no recollection as to past associations with this particular regional speech accent. That I lived as a 2 to 3 year old in Montreal in the era of the infamous Dr. Ewan Cameron at McGill University where my father was in a graduate degree program might have something to do with it. Dr. Cameron was partially CIA sponsored in various macabre methods to rewrite someone's brain. He also undertook clandestine LSD experiments on his patients. One of the Duplessis Orphans told me that he was also responsible for sexual abuse, though this is not widely known.

A quote from Rachael O (On Gangstalking) is captures the essence of what it is like to be targeted and hounded;
We do not imagine the stalking and harassment. We do not imagine strangers knowing way too much about us or that we are treated like mindless toys our whole lives. The whole thing is creepy and a living hell. True insanity would be much, much easier.
I had no idea that gangstalking and harassment was a fact of life for unlucky persons who were selected. Then the perps outed themselves in 04-2002, and it has been hell ever since. And, it has got worse; incursions into my recall, knowledge, estimation of quantities, making logical choices and actions, knowledge of traffic rules and error trapping have all been selectively corrupted since BOH. The perps did not make any progress on these while they were in covert mode, and there is only a faint trace of brainstem level thoughts that they cannot yet control (fuck me with).

I have covered this ground many times before, and probably sound like a broken record. Time to call this posting done.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Nothing In Particular

A short post for today as it was taken up by more daffodil bulb toil, though in comfortable circumstances standing on covered concrete beside the conveyor belt passing them by for inspection as to firmness. All those bulbs that were picked in the field end up on the conveyor, and no doubt the perps have managed for me to be sorting through the very ones that I picked some weeks ago. They may well keep track of all the bulbs, who picked what, when and in what box, and where is the field picker on the conveyor belt, E.-W section or the N.-S. section and which way are they facing when they do this task. All that must be going through the perp's minds as they arrange these scenarios, presumably most of the others being operatives or quisling family and/or once friends.

And it is confirmed, the head bulb farmer is leaving the employ of the farm next week, and is headed off to a construction gig in Fort McMurray, way up north, in a three weeks in, and one week out, venture, airfare paid for. That sounds like the gig I would like to score, and put this minimum wage bullshit long past me. Who knows what the perps have lined up for me. The head bulb farmer has spent his entire working life dealing with daffodil bulbs, and here he is jumping to a construction job. Not only am I envious, but it would seem that this might be an interim position for him until he gets the ideal daffodil bulb gig, possibly back in the UK where he is from. My take on it, just to reiterate yesterday's speculation, is that this job is an arranged gift from the perps, as a new job seems to be a very common outcome for all those shills who aid them.

All I get is more masers and plasma beams flitting about, especially at the farm where they like to cover me at transitions through doors by augmenting my vision with green and red plasma beams, often 2' in front of me, and continuing as I walk along, about 30" horizontal, and 2" high. Just another imposed stunt, fairly low on the annoyance chart.

I continue to get my posse of police vehicles around me when waiting or returning from the crew bus; in the former instance I get at least four per 15 minute wait for the bus at 0650h. I even got a pair of them in a police cruiser on my way back to thei apartment; they drove by, I crossed the road they had passed by on, and they had pulled onto the wrong side of the street to then put on their flashing red and blue lights, and were getting out of their vehicle, making out that they had to deal with someone on the street.

And I did get the angry theratening psycho act only five minutes early, coming at me shirtless and his muscles all tensed up, and he even ranted at me over something from the perp themes, though thankfully didn't attack me. Just more bullshit, and more variations of it.

It was a major vehicular gangstalking on the crew bus riding back into town; at least 3,000 vehicles ordered by color and vehicle type, with the whites, silver-greys, mid-greys and the black vehicles escorting red, green or navy blue colored vehicles. There was the odd yellow vehicle in the mix, as well as copper colored ones, and even a deep brown colored vehicle. This was on the main highway to the ferry, and was commute time, though there were just as many in the reverse commute "escorting" the yellow crew bus I was on.

The big excitement for the perps might have been the bus switch-around before we set off; on the yellow bus, then the small white bus that was too small, and then back again on the yellow bus. In the process, the negro woman who I talk to sometimes had snagged my first seat on the yellow bus, she sitting on the very spot that I had. The perps do this all the time when we are cleaning up the bulb sorting area; sweeping over where I was standing, putting plastic boxes in those locations, and otherwise chasing me around so to close in on where I was and as soon as I have vacated the spot. Which explains the increasing numbers of yellow and red traffic light running, and even the buses are doing it too. All to leave the minimum amount of time between the crossing vehicle and me crossing its former path.

The military helicopter came by when I was in the lunch room today. This makes it the third time that it has made a trip outside for me to see, and as usual, there were some blackish emanations from its radar dome that came at me. This is "normal', co-opting radar of other vessels and aircraft and have them direct some kind of emanations in my direction, if not right at me. This time, it was through the double pane glass of the lunch room, and glass in all its various kinds is also a perp obsession.

Two of my supposed work colleagues were in the lunch room with me, and they each had some plastic lunch packaging that was painted or printed in a silver-grey color, and each had this in front of them, seemingly as some kind of portable color reference. I left the lunch room early because I had enough of their parading around, and took a plastic box and sat outside as the sun had come out. And lo, if those same two work colleagues didn't follow me in a few minutes just to loiter around me while seated in my supposed getaway location. They always know where to find me, and come coursing by on the flimsiest of excuses, or even none at all. The phrase, "just gangstalking", should be burned in their foreheads for all the obviousness about it.

I am going to call this one done for the day, as I need an early night to get up early for a day's bulb sorting or picking. This will make it three days in succession, which is the limit the perps put on me for successive work days. By day's end tomorrow they will have me begging for two days off. The big thing is that the bulb picking and sorting work may come to an end after this, and I will be back into "do squat" again, another imposed state the perps like to keep me in.

Monday, August 18, 2008

Eye and Vision Attacks

Those that follow this TI's blogs know that vision assaults are no new; what is new is the increased precedence of them, even as I type, and presumably the source emanations are from the LCD display. These same "catch up" emanation levels have occured before, both following physical activity until it was dropped. Then the vision buggering emanations were stopped. The reason I call them "catch up" is that it seems that the perps cannot get enough measurements off me while transiting, walking or hiking. And as these and other forms of exercise cause me to dissapate energy, it creates a situation where the perps add extra eye/vision buggering emanations to catch up to their desired level. That's the theory, and it may well be dead wrong, but there is a high correlation with the vision attacks following exercise in some form.

Though I cannot say that I was doing much walking today, as I was standing in one place for the most part and sorting daffodil bulbs, separating the good ones from the bad (soft). The good nes is that I don't feel whacked out form doing this, which is different than the previous weeks, and who knows, I maybe allowed to put three days in succession. My mind-minders have very strict rules as to what I can do, and demand "rest time", i.e. days off, aka forced shut-in time. For what exactly I don't know, but they need a high degree of controlled variation as to what I do where. Standing on a concrete surface is good news for their concrete energetics interaction games, going by the number of passing redi-mix trucks going by when on the crew bus, travelling exactly in the wrong direction for that time of day. That is, the redi-mix truck is travelling into downtown where their plant is at 0700h, and then "delivering" at 1700h, heading away from their plant. Anyhow, I am long familiar with the perps' passing need for authenticity, and that they will dispense with it if and when needed.

Presently I am getting the "ancy treatment"; made to feel ancy and ill-at-ease for no reason, just a general (imposed) state that provide no benefit to me, as it is highly disruptive.

The goat milk has gone sour again, tow days ahead of its "best before" date. This will precipitate another late evening shopping in a few minutes, and I am quite sure I will be major gangstalking bait with tea and chocolate inside me. This infernal "need" for chocolate only erupts at my apartment where I have it on hand. I do not take any for lunch as it won't travel very well and I have no problem not having any. It is all to serve the perps' brown color problems, for which they have decided that I am the vehicle by which to inflict their abuse until they get it, and many hundreds of other objectives, solved in terms of bioenergetics.

The perps have been working hard on yellow colors; they pull these forcasts of rain to then neccessitate me bringing yellow raingear in my pack, and then parade yellow shirted native Indians and yellow turbaned E. Indians around me.

At the end of day mill-about time, which makes no sense outside the orchestrations of players, skin color and clothing color, they had four dudes in all black, or black and white, and they aligned themselves N. to S. for a few minutes, and then again, E. to W. some 10' from me. That I was wearing my black stretch Cordura pants also added to the game it seemed. And the last person to get on the bus was this dude they have been parading around me for the last week, and here he was dressed all in black and chose to sit in the seat in front of me that had been curiously left availible by at least a half dozen "passengers" before they elected to sit elsewhere. Just another day of being gangstalk bait, dealing with this infernal parade of fuckwits around me, and even worse, I probably know many of them if they weren't morphed over. The excessive juvenility of some of them also serves to create plenty of disruption.

Time to post this and set off to get more goat milk for tomorrow. This has been about the fourth late eveningtime shopping trip, the first such in over two years. The perps also like to test out my perception of colors in the evening time, bringing the reds out of the shadows for me to see in the streetlights.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Thunder, Lightning and Plasma Beams

Another day of rest, all to see the sunny weather turn into a brewing thunderstorm, the clouds still darkening, and a distant rumble, soon to visit here. When I look out I get straightline plasma/maser beams projecting from the horizon, vertically or at a 45 degree angle. No real lightning yet, which one should note, is actually a plasma event. An organic one to be sure, and very unlike those greyish straightline beams that are put on for me, but of the same genesis; ionized gaseous elements that glow together under the application of electromagnetic energy. And such foreboding weather also serves as an excuse to flash the wall behind this LCD display, a stretch as much as the faux vehicle "reflections" from six stories below that is also used as the "excuse"/cover story. And I do hear thunder much closer now, so this looks to be a doozy of a storm and I have a ringside seat.

Anyhow, I did my outing for the day, getting another pair of leather work gloves as the last ones were inexplicably holed in the left index finger. It is the second such mysterious glove sabotage in as month, this time on the other hand. And as before, the hole in the finger "happened" over a break with the gloves off my hand. While waking to the workwear store I got the usual gangstalker freakshow around me; the tattoos in full arm display, the skinheads, the improbable dude clusters, the gut strut (males usually), and the middle age males in wide brimmed hats, the latter being the most curious category, but the most persistent. And who thought those ridiculous Tilley hats were just for tourists? I don't have any idea why they arrange these loathesome wide brimmed hats for me so often; is it just because I cannot stand the sight of them, and/or is there a deeper traumatization association from the "lost years", aged 2 through 5 years old, where I had most of my recall wiped out? Sometimes they arrange the brim to be folded up on one side, something like an Australian bush hat. Once, they had the operative wear the wide brimmed hat with the brim on both sides pinned to the top of the hat. It is all to absurd, the same the ongoing relentless gangstalking and presentation of themes that I don't care to see, save the odd blonde. Check out the Favored and the Unfavored if you are unfamiliar with the genesis of the gangstallking freakshow.

I have been in a more favorable mood state today, though not a terribly energetic one. There must be some need for the perps to suck me down as there has been too much of this in the past for it to be of any organic origin.

I got sucked into that one again, the bogus planted story that comes to naught. I am referring to the above mentioned thunderstorm to be; one nearby rumble only, three flashes on the wall behind this LCD, 20 minutes of light rain, and that was it. The perps like the rain for its street cleaning properties, in lieu of sending the streetsweeper in advance of where I am to walk. They also like to schedule the sidewalk sweeper in the early mornings of getting the crew bus. And, there has been more than once where they have power washed the sidewalks in advance of me transiting it. They like to plant the notion of being an honored "guest" in these circumstances, rather than the reality of being monitored, surveilled, hounded and controlled per the imposed reality.

Anyhow, there has been plenty of Harley 2 cycle engine motorcycle noise tonight to keep me on edge; this is another perp obsession that they like to immerse me in, even visually by planting parked motorcycles on my outings. Again, I have no idea what it is about, it is just that I don't care for motorcycles in any event, and here I am hounded for six years in two countries over this pecadillo, along with other predilections that should be of no consquence to anyone but myself. However, these seeming inconsequential predilections are of intense fascination by a phalanx of fuckwits who go about making my life hell in very unconventional means. Their nonconsensual human research objectives take precedence over the subject's objections, a reality that is true for thousands of TI's. Whatever the objective is for the perps, it is not my problem, so why do I have a constant public posse of assholes parading around me, mostly drawn from the Unfavored?

And that above complaint begets me faux neighbor noise in this apartment block of 12 stories. I once told my brother that I had yet to be convinced that anyone but me is living in this building, and that the entire building is given over to harassment operations. He did not reply to that statement, which is most odd, as it is an "out-there" supposition, inviting a challenge, and he ducked it.

The perps had me examining online sources for workclothes, which might be in my next vocational script. They have whacked me with various debilitating sensations after three consecutive days of work; to make any longer term commitments to be doubtful. The perps have also taken full advantage of the ultimate job flexibility, of showing up whenever one likes, given that it is a 7 day per week operation. And as another bonus for the perps, I have been in many different locations on any given day; they like to change up all the locations, work day durations, job tasks as much as possible, and they have made the most of it so far. Which is another way of saying I don't know where this is all going; is the present circumstances a way of incrementally introducing me into work situations, ultimately ending back where I started in database software development, or is it just to give me some longer leash time, which may be withdrawn at any moment? Or is it to only help paydown the chocolate consumption costs they impose on me, all to keep playing their brown color games? It is all part of the great imposed mystery, of which I am the last to be informed about.

I am getting a steady jab in the back, which is my cue to rearrange my seating, and lifting my back off the chair. All to have them re-impose the same sensations in the same locations without any causal event/cover story.

This is the dusk time, when they go silly and arrange more fuckery. It seems the dimmed down afternoon while reading the newspaper was a big deal today, and having me "forget" that I had the newspaper since I acquired it yesterday.

Another tea and chocolate break in the evening following imposed anciness, an indescribable generalized discomfort of no apparent cause.

More web surfing followed, the planted theme of interest (read, perp interest) being outdoor work wear; one has to take these with a grain of salt, or even a larger dose. The perps had me planning a PC rebuild for some six months of elapsed time; It was to be an AMD CPU, Tyan motherboard and all the trimmings. Then the "urge" lapsed and I didn't surf those topics anymore. Some six months went by, and at the time I was going to moving in three weeks and the perps burned my extant motherboard, creating a situation to need a rebuilt PC. And lo, if I wasn't in the hands of a PC service outfit that I trusted who only dealt with Intel CPU's and Foxconn motherboards. All my new PC rebuild planning was on the hard drives I could not access, rendering all that "planning" for naught. Then to add to the confusion, the PC service shop claimed to have a certain motherboard and didn't, and I was fed up with some of their high prices and ordered some components online to be delivered to the PC service outfit, and then motherboard on/off availibility kept playing out, and was finally decided with all the other components in place. This played out for six weeks or so, (I should read my 2006 blog postings to get this correct), and was finally resolved with a new motherboard, CPU, memory and the extant hard drives. Anyhow, it is a long way of saying that some of these protracted perp themes do come to fruition, but in ways one doesn't expect. Only recently has a new case been added to the PC rebuild, effectively stringing the rebuild over some 1.5 years. Both hard drives failed together last year, some five months after they were re-installed. Even the PC experts ask me how that happened, being similar to two different make, model and year automobiles failing to start the same morning from the same "cause". Its just another mystery, like the rest of the sabotage events that go on.

Time to call this one done for the day, and post it ahead of a forced "forget".

Saturday, August 16, 2008

A Sleepy Saturday

I got a 10 hour sleep in last night, and that excess hasn't been enough to keep awake today. Not that I had a nap, its just that I am being contained in some kind of soporific slowdown while online. I was allowed out for a Chicken Run, the acquisition of a hot cooked chicken that becomes my major protien source for the next two weeks, added chopped into the tortillas that I eat 2x per day. Expect this to be another demotivated blog posting, like others recently, but without a preceding day of toil.And too, the sleepy stunts come with the assholes interfering with my vision, as if I really were going to sleep while seated at my desk.

Laundry was done earlier, another perp obsession. The laundry contained a combination of dusty work clothes from yesterday and shirts. The towels are being kept separate owing to the unresolved linting fuckery the perps have attached to them. They introduced their fucking dwarf to me, having the person arrive behind me while I was cleaning the lint trap in advance of using the dryer. The dwarf was with another woman of normal height who got into a defensive state as I had been intending to use the dryer, but unbeknownst to me, the dwarf's clothes were in the dryer and needed another round of drying. In other words, my intended plan to use the dryer was thwarted by one of the freakshow. Again, I don't know what the perp's fascination with dwarves is, but the have planted a number of them around me, and have now installed the dwarf as a nominal tenant on this floor, a resident of the Common Room #2 apartment where no end of improbable differing demographic acts originate. All the better that it opposite the laundry room door to have them loiter in the apartment entrance while I am in their proximity, accessing the laundry room. The perp's abiding fuckery over laudry is not over yet.

And for all that above grumping, someone removed my clothing from the washing machine and put them in the now-vacated dryer and started it going, presumably shelling out the $1.25 in quarters it needs to be started. And when I later went to check on the laundry, thinking that is was a partial time allotment, it was done. A rare freebie in my favor, such events being so rare that I can count them on one hand. The perp fascination with laundry extends as far as my out-of-town brother owing and running two commercial laundries, and I often wonder what the perps are so obsessed by this activity. Why not buy my cooperation and figure out their bioenergetic games in days instead of life-raping me for over six years now? Pure bloody minded depraved madness, all because they fucked up traumatizing me in the developmental years it would seem, if reading the consistency of their gangstalk and theatre games is anything to go by.

Or, as I have once remarked, that the payoff for all this harassment is so incredibly huge, that they are totally beserk about anything else, and cooperation isn't even a concept they would even consider. And what is their supreme objective? Taking a flyer, I reckon the complete control of all bioenergetic properties related to human and animal conscience, and even that of the Earth, and inanimate objects. This concept of consciousness in all things has been touted by many respected scientists, often physics specialists.

I had a forced nap for an hour earlier, as if I needed more sleep, which I don't. It is most strange being compelled to have a nap notion come over me, shutdown the PC, and lie down when there was no precursor sleepiness. One has to trust the compelling controllers to actually let me nap, and not be sucked into a fitful attempt where no sleep is attained. And the post nap teatime in the evening is the opportunity for the third chocolate bar of the day, something that is getting to piss me off all the more as it is totally unaffordable and outside my monthly budget. As far as the perps are concerned, I reckon it is their big events of the day, getting a brown substance in my mouth which is as close to one's brain as one can get. And did I mention that the perps are totally obsessed over all things brown; at least every other blog posting.

It has been a boring day so far, and I at times I am also grateful for that as I am not being harassed to a significant degree. It is indeed rare that I find solace in boredom, and this represents another distortion of my life that is imposed. The perps like to instill the sensation of boredom, and as mentioned in past blogs, have arranged the circumstances with my past employers for that to happen. Even yesterday they brought on a sensation of boredom on the conveyor line, having me in the fourth selecting spot and only a trickle of bulbs coming through at times. The sensation of boredom seemed to be remotely instilled, as it wouldn't of happened in the circumstance before overt invasive mind technology progress that they now enjoy. Sometimes the over-reactions are the tip-off it is more neural meddling from afar.

A long read about video store clerking, and then onto some other distraction. Which "happens to be" photonic entanglement, or quantum entanglement. Two entangled photons can instantly communicate 100,000 times faster than the speed of light some 18km away. The physicists don't have a explanation, and of course wouldn't embark on something so all-pervading as the luminiferous ether, or the omniplasma continuum. No sir, we cannot have boldness in science, as the "cold fusion", (terrible name, but replicated by others), guys got their asses kicked so bad that they set an example for scientific intolerance that will take us back to the nonsecular days of imprisoning leading thinkers who defied the status quo. But there is a certain allowance for the quantum mechanics world to discover some strange particle behavior, as long as they don't go outside their pen. As one contained within a pen by depraved assholes who haven't yet discovered that they haven't fucked my life up enough for 54 years (including 6 years of overt harassment), I just wonder if the said assholes aren't attempting to energetically solve the phontonic entanglement at my expense. The assholes are highly advanced in the physical sciences and operationally manipulate the ether around me for harassment purposes, which would be termed research to them. Anyhow, I am bored and this is one of those imponderable musings that I am passing on to my readership, if I have one.

I notice the typo sabotage is getting more specific; here is a short list of harassment fuckery they like me to suffer through of late, and of course, yell at them when they fuck me into making the same mistake three times in succession, another never-before behavior;
  • to add a space with the space bar after forced me to needlessly delete it
  • piss me around in making contractions, especially the placement of the apostrophe
  • piss me around when typing a word suffix, e.g. ion, ly, ing, ed, s or es.
Which tells me that the assholes have a long way to go; like years of this abuse before they can extract what they are after when I am typing any given letter or symbol. And having me needlessly nap isn't going to make it happen sooner. Call it the functional decomposition rape show.

More web troving, this time a Madonna fix. now that she is 50 y.o.. I don't go for disco/electronica music much, but I have a healthy respect for her talents and ability to bring in new themes into her life.

Time to call this one done for this dull day.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Onto Some Down Time

The perps have me in a state of being highly frazzled and extra reactive today. Hence, some time spent at my place, "chilling out" in the 27C degree heat. They have these ways of telling me, usually not long in advance, that my run is done, back to a shut-in at my apartment.

They re-arranged my morning schedule of getting up at 0500h for the crew bus downtown at 0650h by screwing me out of setting the alarm, and then waking me at 0600h. That precipitated a shortened breakfast (no coffee or chocolate only cereal and toast with peanut butter and jam). And too, a shortened bathroom time, no frontal shaving today. I shouldn't of been too surprised to find that I was being encircled by a fuckwit in a deep brown shirt at the crew marshalling area once we got off the bus. Said fuckwit was from Europe and might have been a little more sensitive to acting like a Nazi goon, even if it is a half a globe away. But no, another shill dons the clothing and methods of the Nazis and gangstalks me after a bus ride.

Later in the day they came around with free Coca Cola for us converyor line sorters, and I am sure that everyone drinking a brown substance from a red can was of great comparative interest to the perp's remote bioenergetics harassment games. It was the first time I have Coca Cola (the real thing), in decades, and I wasn't overwhelmed by it. I suspect many of my taste sensing abilities are corrupted and dithered, just like they do with chocolate. And I don't think it was any surprise from the brown color harassment obsession of the perps that they had me nattering to a negro woman in the next seat of the return bus trip. I got to tell my story to underwhelming interest, and it did not escape me that the woman behind me, who can mysterious appear a coffee break on days she isn't working, was leaning forward, getting as close to me as possible. And the perps even obliged by putting on three same red vehicles in file and bounded with a white vehicle at each end ahead of the yellow school bus we were aboard, at an intersection to demonstrate vehicular gangstalking to her.

Suffice to say that I highly demotivated today, and this planted mind state was begun early in the day, likely to inform me that it has precedence over me attempting to garner more lucre in the immediate two days. My mother says to make hay while the sun shines, and I would if I was allowed. And too, the message might be a way to disuade me about having any regular or partime employment in the near future. I haven't been fucked enough it would seem.

From Advice Goddess, but in this context, it pertains to the recent Anonymous commenter who went passive/agressive on me. (The latter being his kiss-off from me).
Look, if you've got a problem with something I've written or said, bring it on: verbally, or on the page or on my site site, and fight fair: truthfully and on point. If you're not smart enough or articulate enough, well, sorry, you should have watched less television or something, but leave the debating to people who use their heads as more than staging areas for their hair.
I see the perps are going to legimately send some inspection video devices and smoke testing into the septic system in this building and street area. I have long blogged on the perp's brown color problem, especially as it relates to excrement, and have noted they dug up some 400' of sewer line and put in twinned 30" PVC pipe, though about 100' short of this building. And they are going to blow red colored smoke into the sewer in an attempt to find any leaks. All I can do is laugh; for a couple weeks or months cooperation they could solve their shit problem, and yet they carry on for six years from remote locations applying harassment technologies, playing life rape fuckery all my waking hours, in their research efforts. Instead, now over six years while the assholes continue to play color games, arranging thousands of vehicles in color coordinated formations (today, on the crew bus on the way back), and continue to put red vehicles in front of whites, then silver greys and are attempting to do this with dark green (like vein coloration). Then they repeat with blue, and likewise for dark green, and the piece de reistance, brown colors. It is senseless and utterly mendacious criminal activity 24hx365days, predicated on pretending they aren't doing anything.

They have me on a short fuse again tonight, instant rage at their incursions, even the faked noise and typo fuckery that is being applied as I write this. I wonder where this is leading, as they had me more relaxed before. Now, the mind keepers have decided that tolerance isn't allowed, and instant affrontive rage is in. I didn't need a new personality, so why have I been given one?

While waiting for the crew bus this morning I got my police "action"; they even pulled a squad car into the parking stalls in front of me, doing a half assed job at that, and had one of their kind go to the ATM about 30' away. There were three other police vehices, "passing through", and have increased of late along with the rest of the vehicular traffic at that same time of day. In other words, the gangstalking has increased over the duration of weeks that I have waited at that intersection. Another neverberfore; nonattribute increase of street activity for the same time of morning on a weekday, 0650h.

And the rumor has it that the farm manager responsible for the daffodil bulb operation is moving on. Supposedly he was expecting to apply newer methods here, as they haven't picked bulbs by hand in England for over 50 years, where he is from. My cynical take on his departure is that he got "gifted", an award for being complicit and abetting the Fuckover Force. That is the history of nearly all my interactions; new jobs and business, early retirement, promotions etc. for those with extensive dealings with me, usually afterward. And institutional awards too; new building wings (they like to build near me), new computer systems etc. The perps must have a highly algorithmic method of determining compensation for shills and quislings, and have a full time management/accounting operation on this side of their business. As far as I can tell, they always deliver what they say they will, and even extra. Save the Targetted Individual victim of course; no compensation will address the psychological abuse, relentless life rape, and the utter depravity that goes on for me.

And I notice the perps are also doing more physical hacking at my knees; yesterday the boy worker/nutter was throwing daffodil bulbs around because he was "bored" and nailed me in the right knee. I reamed his ass out to no avail, as his kiddie games weren't done, as per the perp script. Today, the nutter wasn't here, and yet the perps fired at least two bulbs from nowhere at my knees again. They like to hit the side of them for whatever reason. This might account for the surfeit of ambulatory gangstalkers wearing freaking knee braces and other leg-worn paraphenalia to physically augment one knee.

Time to get this one posted, and hopefully listen to some music.