Friday, September 12, 2008

More FUDE Games

That FUD means Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt as a strategy to befuddle IBM's customers is urban folklore. And that it seems to be the stock in trade of my tormentors has been frequently observed in these blog postings. In my situation, there is one more, Error, to add to the mind invasive games to create the wrong notion or concept and sustain this for weeks, if not months.

The towel pilling games have been reporting in this blog over the last two months. The new towels in July, after the old ones suddenly got ragged, were a birthday gift. Fine, I am getting into some decent house linens for once. But no, that wasn't allowed, and these all cotton towels came with a new feature; perpetual pilling and their continued dissemination in the washing machine and dryer. That is two never-befores; cotton towels that pill, and laundry machines that facilitate spreading said fabric pills onto other clothing, especially if black colored (pants, underwear and one shirt).

For weeks the perps had me beliveing that I was to return them to Bed, Bath and Beyond, (BBAB) and had pumped up newstories related to this company. And it was a "surprise" that it was in fact Linen 'N Things, as there isn't a BBAB store in this city that I am aware of. Just another jerkaround to my recall, normally relatively accurate and now, since last year, remotely ditherable to play fucking games with what store I was in, and to return the sabotaged linting towels to. All because they lack the gumption to fess up to ongoing nonconsensual human experimentation, and also in part, because they fucked up in traumatizing me when young, or at least, that is the given story that is relatively consistent with the ongoing gangstalking freakshow.

After setting me up to do this last weekend with the aid of someone driving me, and then having arranged the towels to be still laundering (shared laundry woes) when this person came by, I figured it was game over, they weren't meant to be returned by perp edict. But today, "for some reason" I got motivated to take the towels back by way of city bus trip this afternoon and take them back. There was a certain amount of weirdness in the bus trip, being so full in the mid-afternoon, never mind the profusion of working age males who were "somehow" circulating during normal weekday working hours. They even closed in on me with a plastic bag danging 2' from me, as I had a same colored and sized plastic bag with me containing the towels. I had a number of freakshow participants "joining" me from the Unfavored demographic groups; big hats, white hair, male pony tails, male long hair, long kinky hair, the obese, and a few brown skinned folks as well. And I notice a new trend, they are putting on dudes with two tone hair; a blonde patch on a near black or deep brown colored hair, and the said dude to be curiously packing three full (plastic) bags a quarter mile from the grocery store as identified on the bags. Knowing the traffic routes in this town, it seemed rather strange for anyone to be walking with their groceries that far from the store to catch a bus that was headed to a mall with a grocery store.

And one of the bus "travellers" was one of my forestry classmates of 1979, doing the "look out the window for no reason whatsover" act, to avoid any eye contact. He has also engaged in weekday gangstalking on one other occasion, also avoiding recognition by putting on the "don't know me" act. Funny how these same dudes keep circulating, especially during weekday working hours, and I "happen" to know them. Fucking bizarre, and who knows how often he really participates when morphed over.

And for my return trip from the mall where I successfully exchanged the towels for better ones (hopefully), why two of the same dudes just "happened" to be on the same bus again (turning around inside of 20 minutes). I have never had so many "fellow travellers" on the bus routes that I take since overt harassment began in 04-2002. This term is reserved for those getting on and off at the same stops as I do, or in the case of today, taking the same buses I am taking, both outbound and inbound journey legs.

And I got the obese negro woman with child gangstalking act; first she took a seat at the front of the bus, then when the bus was making a right angle turn, whe walks down the aisle, somehow knowing there was a seat availible behind me (she wouldn't of been able to see it from where she was), and then sitting down in a transverse (side) facing seat. This is at least the second incident where someone seated on the bus "somehow" knows there is an availible seat immediately behind me, and walks the length of the bus to sit there when they were seated in the first place. It doesn't add up, unless one applies the orchestration and persecution model IMHO.

I also got plenty of motorcycle noise and sightings today; the noise goes on all day, in my apartment or not, and then they put on real motorcycles with the same noise to circulate in my proximity. There is something they want from me when viewing these retro 1950's motorcycles.

Other big perp events for the day was doing laundry before lunch. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed by laundry, and even have my out-of-town brother owning two commercial laundries. And still they hound my ass to figure out something more "deep" about laundry. Today, I had the bicycle stalking in the hallway outside the laundry room; two different bicycles no less. It is rare that they have any bicycles in the hallway, and the last time was also when I was doing laundry. I have indicated in last blog postings that there is a profusion of sidewalk cyclists in my proximity, despite this being one of the most bicycle laned cities in North America (IMHO), and that the tensioned spoked wheels seem to be an aid in the perps' remote energetics assay games. And like most large cities, it is against the local bylaws to ride them on the sidewalk.

There has been many cycling work colleagues in past jobs and classes, and even the lastmost one of daffodil bulb picking, some arrived with bicycles. I don't know what the associated agenda is, but I am fucking fed up being the persecution poster boy for a secret agency of targeted nonstop abuse. It has been long overdue for them to get their sick criminal asses out of the shadows and identify themselves. And perhaps there would be a return to normality instead of this constant circulation of freakshow weirds in my proximity, the never ending Fellini movie I have been cast in without an consent.

The evening time train of loud mufflered vehicles is in progress, one after the other, some six per minute or so. These are the sounds of so-called performance mufflers, mufflers in need of repair, or heavy duty vehicles, often diesel engine noise that parks itself outside. Earmuffs aren't helping as the sound is ported through them as if they weren't there.

Some abatement at last to the above mentioned noise thankfully. Now it is time for vision impairment games it seems; they force me to blink at the same time as launching a whitish plasma projection off this LCD display, attempting to create "causal" as if blinking would cause these blurred projections in the first place, which it never has until recent months. This is not the only device that is used for plasma games; when viewing shiny chrome or like metallic surfaces (e.g. chrome looking plastic faucet in the bathroom), they will generate a standing plasma beam projection "from" the reflections, as if I was looking through a gauze or star filter on a camera. Naturally (sort of) there are many more objects reflecting than there ever was, and these all add to the plasma and light show that is arranged around me.

The battle of the premature souring of the goat milk I use continues; the Best Before 09-17 milk is going off, and that makes it at least the fourth 2 liter size in succession that doesn't get finished. And lo, if the 1 liter size just isn't there when I look for it. More games and bizarre impositions, all to dump white liquid down the drain it would seem. But not tonight; my plans to get more milk were purged until it was too late, as the store has closed.

More hallway and outside ructions tonight; screams, arguements, hollaring and the like, presumably to incurr amygdala brain region activity where the emotional content is processed. The return of the loud mufflered vehicles and motorcycles also came back for another round of noise flurries.

Time to call this one done, and retire for the night.

A new stunt just erupted; electrifying the second finger on my right hand in pulsations, enough to piss me off and provoke vocalizations.

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