Saturday, January 17, 2009

An Ear Muffs Day

Saturdays are the worst, or at least that is the given notion, when being harassed. I even got out to do the gangstalk gauntlet to the downtown ATM, two blocks W. And too, I was given extra time to get a newspaper and load up on the better quality chocolate, a perp imposed requirement. The gotcha was that a male Fuckwit gangstalker was kneeling on the floor below this same chocolate, doing the "stocking stalking" act. These are the supposed shelf stocking staff that erupt in substantially larger numbers than they ever did with the unerring knack of being exactly where I want to go in the supermarket. And of course, they have brown colored boxes all around them as some kind of reference prop. The chocolate section has been gangstalked by blondes in the past, dudes on sentry duty, dudes in brown clothing, and now the Fuckwit planted exactly below where I wanted to reach.

And I got the "blue treatment" when undertaking my financial transaction of depositing my small paycheck. I was at the ATM that was close to the glass windows to the street, as the other was occupied by a skinhead, surely the fugliest head/hair do going, and one they constantly expose me to when I don't want to even look in that direction. Anyhow, in my peripherial vision when depositing the check they put a mid-blue gangstalker passing by outside, as seen through the glass. And again, when I turned to depart, another blue dressed gangstalker. And regular readers will know that my mindkeepers have been tailing me, and presenting blue dressed gangstalkers whenever I have made a purchasing decision or an irregular financial transaction. So far, they have kept these away from me at the supermarket checkout where I get the male hippie weirds instead. No doubt this form of color gangstalking has a long way to go, but here it is for the record, and for at least the fourth time since 09-2008.

Then when walking back after this transaction, they populated the route with at least 150 gangstalkers, all doing their bit for the favorite perp colors, red, brown and dark green. And once past the downtown center, it was vagrant stalking. One Fuckwit act had the weird scuffing his feet and high kicking to scare the birds on the sidewalk, presumably as part of the show for foot exposure. I only got moderate relief in the supermarket, and then my cluster of Fuckwits around me when exiting, and then some 12 Fuckwits/faux vagrants gathered in a major cluster where they were all standing, and no room to sit and pass the time. Freaking bizarre it was, and perhaps they were assembled to be the backdrop of a yellow jacketed, shades wearing Fuckwit who stood apart from them and was doing frontal posing. This same yellow jacket was seen gangstalking 10 minutes earlier on the ATM portion of my two task walk, and I assume was doing the usual reprise gangstalking, coming back and using his pals for some kind of associated games; the male banter, their clothing or whatever. When the vagrants act strange, it is time to acknowledge that they are orchestrated for some kind of perp reason. Vagrants are one of the Unfavored demographic groups, but why the sudden eruption of them in a large cluster at a location that just doesn't make sense, some 60' from my apartment building entrance.

That 20 minute junket was the big action for the day, though I will be doing the one hour cleaning job tonight, and will doubtless get the gangstalking in the E. direction of my beat. Two nights ago I got a five shopping basket cluster honor guard from the vagrant show, so perhaps they will keep this act going for dusktime as well.

Ear muffs, my sort-of hearing protection have been in constant use today. But if the perps want me to hear a noise it will magically get through by dint of some exotic or extra-conventional fuckery. Nothing new there, save that they want me to wear them all day nearly, and are always ramping up the obnoxious noises to ensure there is a provocational reason to put them on. Sometimes, a new noise "erupts" inside the ear muffs that cannot be heard anywhere else, a "hearing protection only" noise. And of course I get the usual din of static, ringing, distant radio-like voices coming through all the time, slowly building up and the volume increase not noticed until I take them off and find it quieter. I suppose that the ear muffs being of a deep metallic like flake plastic is the big attraction for the perps. They trashed the black ones with the red plastic insert trim a few years ago by breaking off the rotational ball joint so there was only a plastic stub in the recieving socket.

An arranged "deja vu" this morning when I was out on my shopping beat. They had a vehicle parked with a red plastic jerry can on the roof and then reminded me that I had seen a similar jerry can in my dreams. I remember nothing from dreams, and this was a total invasion on two accounts; the dream portion was far too technical and mundane to be recalled, and set me up to recall when seeing as similar object as an arranged prop.

I did my one hour cleaning job at the car dealership tonight. The boss man was putting on his short fuse act over me not saying "I'm here" to the sales staff when I arrived. (Literally). I said hello, twice in fact, to the greeter salesman at the door who then reprised his gangstalking when I was at the outside of the janitorial supplies closet, and he could of taken a more sensible route, but instead, chose to congest me by walking within 1' with the vacuum cleaner and me. Talk about obvious, as well as fucking rude. But apparently, saying hello to my 2x gangstalker wasn't enough, it has to be to the Sales manager, the one that was ready for me with a story as to the washroom not being clean. That was the boss man's cleaning territory, and they got that all straightened out after having some terse time for a week or so. Funny how the Sales manager was ready for me in the hallway just when he wanted to unload on the janitorial staff.

Back to the above mentioned payday, for Rachael O.'s edification. I started the New Year an extra $600 in the hole because my mother only gave me half of what she said she would to reimburse me for the new glasses I got in early December. So, my money goes to pay this off, and pay down my line of credit. There are numerous TI causes I would give money for, including some worthy individuals, but the perps have managed my existence to deplete all my savings, and have me on a monthly dependency basis of disability payments. This is the second time my mother has jerked me around, promising money for compensation or reimbursement and then not delivered. And in both instances I made financial committments that made my circumstance much more difficult. Just what I need after the $30k divorce that should of been $5k if the perp abetting ex wasn't so contrary, whacked out or otherwise doing the perp's bidding.

Onto more conspiratorial topics, and one that I don't get into much, except to occasionally note some odd commonality with my circumstances. And that would be the recent ditching of the United Airline flight 1549 into the Hudson River in New York City. How many more commercial aircraft downing outcomes are needed theree before the perps get their research answers? Let see, Flight 800 was shot out of the air by a rocket, then on 9/11, 2001had two commercial aircraft fly into the World Trade Center, two months later, American Airlines flight 587 went into a very strange flat spin after an apparent explosion and crashed into the Rockaway district of Queens, and then a private aircraft bizarrely flew into a residential tower October 11, 2006, and now, flight 1549 ditching into the Hudson River. Is this sufficient variation of outcomes of aircraft downings in the New York City area with respect to managed (IMHO) crashes? I hope so. (Excuse this little conspiratorial tangent; I try not to get into these kinds of stories).

There are other tragic "hot topics" the perps like me to see in the news, online, newspaper or on TV that I won't get into, but suffice to say, the perps take inordinant measures to ensue that the themes of death, disaster and demise recieve constant exposure in my news troving, and have been long identified in this posting that I was reminded of with recent cleanup of the links. Though in the main, there isn't an elevated frequency of disasters that I detect, it is just that when they happen, (or are made to happen if you are more conspiratorially minded), the perps ensure that I get plenty of news exposure and additional noisestalking, plasma and maser action, forced farts and other bodily senstations, forced or faked mouth and internal head noises and other arranged phenomenon to simultaneously engage my neural detection and cognitive capabilities. It is plain fucking tiresome to be some kind of remotely controlled psychic detection agent for an agenda that is not mine, and is bizarre and confounding as it is vile. It is high time the perps stuck to fucking their own kind, and got out of my life and that of all other TI's. There is more that I could get into, and I won't, as it seems to be feeding the treasonous hands that are watching.

Onto saved link cleanup and being aghast at the temerity of the US armed forces who may engage in public "counter blogging".
Bloggers: If you suddenly find Air Force officers leaving barbed comments after one of your posts, don't be surprised. They're just following the service's new "counter-blogging" flow chart. In a twelve-point plan, put together by the emerging technology division of the Air Force's public affairs arm, airmen are given guidance on how to handle "trolls," "ragers" -- and even well-informed online writers, too. It's all part of an Air Force push to "counter the people out there in the blogosphere who have negative opinions about the U.S. government and the Air Force," Captain David Faggard says.
Another WTF; any government agency that engages the public about their percieved reputation in the blogosphere has way too much budget. An overall 20% cut in Air Force funding ought to fix that problem real quick. Fucking absurd, if not scary.

More music listening while bookmarking promising books at Powells Books, the west coast megacenter for bibliophiles, and maybe the sickos will let me go there again someday. It was Sarah McLachlan in a local concert last year, and Kathleen Edwards, blues flavored rock. I don't do heavy rock, metal or punk rock; there has to be reasonable melodic component before I take music to be interesting. Nix on jazz (though I tried for at least a decade), most rock music these days and the rest of the rap, hiphop or whatever it is called. The perps know my interests in music more than I do, and what their associated manipulations are isn't known to me. One can be sure that they had some hand in developing my musical tastes, and were certainly behind the 5+ year hiatuses that "happened" to my record buying habits over the years. And too, they have introduced me to interesting performers. I was a Bonnie Raitt fan in 1974 after her second record, Give It Up. And so, in retrospect, it was no fluke that I saw her win five Grammys in 1991. I was staying at a place that offered a room near a technical college where I had enrolled for a one year program, and the barely pleasant landlord was master of all communal TV watching. And so, when I headed off to study, and watching the TV momentarily, there was Bonnie Raitt winning her first Grammy. She was elated and astounded. Later, when I came back from studying, the scenario played out again. There she was, winning her fifth Grammy, absolutely flabbergastered at her fortunes. If nothing in my life is a fluke, and has all been arranged down to the second like I figure, then imagine the coordination it must of taken to pull that scenario off. It is mind boggling as it is pervasive.

Anyhow, the music is done, and time to sign off from this bizarre netherworld.

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