Thursday, January 29, 2009

Everything Starts For Tea

The title is a play on the title of the John Baldry album, Everything Stops for Tea. The association being that the title is a description of what has just happened in my imposed reality; I just finished having tea and chocolate, and my tormentors (cum nonconsensual human experimentalists) have started up a noise ruckus.They have revealed their interest, for the first time today, by way of intense pounding of the floor/ceiling above, 12" of concrete and steel no less, and also started up the jackhammering noise from across the street. And in doing so, they are also suggesting that this two week jackhammering job at the opposite residential tower underground parkade is very likely a noise job only, no actual work or activity, just projected noise. There hasn't been any compressors or service vehicles outside either, and that would be required if they were truly breaking up the concrete floor.

And as tea was consumed with chocolate, the brown colored food they have me near-addicted to, another change in "habit" since they first made themselves plain and presented overt harassment by uncommon means and technologies. The chocolate "habit" is now at three 100g bars per day, and once upon a time in the early days they had me loathing chocolate, even the smell of it. Which suggests that my predilections can be altered by remote means by a malevolent party, still working the experimentation games, but won't out themselves. And that is why the harassment continues nearly seven years later, all because they lack the gumption to declare themselves and their agenda. Imagine the corporate tenacity to arrange and fuck with someone's life for 47 years and then decide to expedite this nonconsensual research/surveillance by taking the most adverse route possible; outwardly covert, but to me, and like victims, overt and traumatizing.

Still the thundering overhead noise continues, as if they were flipping a 5 tonne safe around. I suspect the noise and vibrations are also projected as they have reduced the neighbors to nil, ever since 2004 when I was in the top floor of an apartment building and there was no one around me in the adjacent apartments. And also, they still made up excuses to pound the ceiling (roof) overhead but putting "workers" overhead. At that location they had me watching their spoofed TV, repeating programs but with color changes to objects and skin tones. And on one occasion there was some obnoxious flickering coming off an object on the TV, and as soon as I noticed it they had what seemed like personnel clunking overhead (on the roof). I changed the channel and that was the end of it, as well as the clunking in short order. And here we are, some nearly five years later, and they are still at, three residence locations later with a possible move coming up owing to another rent increase that will begin in three months. It is one of their favorite tactics to move their victims around, creating "rent issues".

This is a rare Thursday that I didn't go to yoga, and it seems that loafing around and web surfing is the prescribed activity until I set off for my one hour job at 1715h, which doubtless will be mobbed with gangstalkers up the asshole like yesterday. And also, they will likely pack gangstalkers around my coat where it is hung up at this job site, and ensure it also gets exposed to the outside, (it is 8' from the building perimeter on a hoist operating handle), by raising the garage door for an extended duration, say 5 or more minutes. At first they wanted me to arrive to work via this garage door, and now they want me to take the front door, past the sentries and/or greeters, say hello to the responsible individuals to let them know I am there to "avoid" alarm setting follies they set up a month ago, and then get some of the cleaning equipment out, all to have the greeters pass by again in close proximity. And if I am particularly attractive bait that day, they will have the same greeters go past me one more time while filling the brown plastic mop bucket in the Service bay area.

I don't know what is so fascinating about my coats, but sometimes they will rearrange them in the closet, and select the one that I am to wear to be separated from the rest, all on their respective hangers. Like having a valet sometimes, but rarely for any positive endeavor. My in-brother has also been making moves to open the basement door when I am working at his place while I am putting on my coat before heading out to do garden maintenance. He is also standing nearby, and doing essentially the same thing; gangstalking me while putting on or taking off my coat but exposing me to the outside through an open door. With the chilly weather they also have me with a blue scarf, brown leather gloves and a black colored toque much like their own sunglasses wearing thuggy boy MIBs they like me to witness in their scurrying choreography. And the perps are also coming at me with the long black coats again; yesterday they planted a Fuckwit male in a long coat to pop from behind the building at the nearby street corner, less than 100' of exiting this apartment building, and walking W. bound at 1715h toward downtown which is absurd in this town. And he made sure to take the corner wide, and even spread out his coat with the hand in this pocket. Who in the fuck does this in a public location except some grovelling shill or quisling? And all to get a few feet closer than would be socially acceptable. (And the operative turning at an orthogonal angle at the street corner). They did something similar to this stunt with a negro dude a few months back; the negro Fuckwit popped out from the box of a cube van and onto the street 8' in front of me. Other Fuckwits have done similar stunts, walking out of a business onto the sidewalk and 2' in front of me pretending that they "didn't notice". Again, who would be so fucking stupid as to not to evaluate the terrain when stepping out into a public location?

More overhead pounding while reading some compelling blog postings of another TI, and the perps making sure to vibrate me in my chair with the overhead noise getting through the hearing protection I am wearing. It is interesting that the author describes the same kind of dociled reactions that I do currently; those who you expect to be responsible just welch out, and are numb at best, or a goofy grin an worst.

I did my cleaning job tonight with the expected plethora of gangstalkers out in all their absurd numbers, at least 150 ambulatory gangstalkers in one block, plus vehicular configurations. Tonight's big event at the job was fucking me around while loading a paper towel dispenser that was up against a TV and presented limited access to the feed roller. This sabotage went through three iterations of jamming paper, mangling the paper and various paper tearings to free the scraps that got "stuck". Adversity at every turn, now is escalated. This fucking sick sabotage stunt cost me at least five minutes and a forced rage-ification "response" (by myself again). Later, the boss man got some mileage out of it by staring at me more, as if to communicate the feigned look of displeasure that I wasn't able to help him out with the extra time. So how did he know, and why isn't he more investigative as to what took up my time? The answer is that it is a staged show; every glance, wink, flicker of light, right down to the animated dust bunnies that frequently zip about while defying gravity in its conventionally understood properties.

True to expectation, my coat did get plenty more outside exposure time as one of the shop personnel left the main garage door open for the entire working time of 1.5 hours, and no one did anything about it. He also parked a mid-grey rotary engined sports car next to it. I suspect the perps like rotary engines for some reason, but not for many models, only a few.

I also see that the perps are arranging used body parts to be along my route for the cleaning job. Yesterday I had to clean up some strange grey mud on the floor, and today, it seems that two body panels near my cleaning tray storage have this same strange grey dust on them. I suspect the parts and the mud come from some distance, and aren't local. There is a significant geographic component to the harassment, and after two months of digging local farmland last summer, I am sure that the perps might be ready to increase the varieties, colors and sources of soils. The top soil hauling and dispersement at my in-town brother's place last weekend might also be connected to the assholes' soil research agenda.

And I got more of the usual jerkarounds from the boss man; he needs me for mopping and so, after dealing with the garbage for three minutes, he then doesn't need me after the mop is wetted but not used. Then he wants me to do vacuuming at the main sales area doors, and I also ask him if he wants the central hallway also vacuumed as he usually does. No, he says it is fine. Then at the end of the job, he asks me why I didn't vacuum the central hallway and I tell him that I asked, and he said no. Then he says, something like. "thats OK". WTF; conflicting demands, only about seven minutes apart.

One of my confreres of the TI community put an exceptional blog posting up today. Rachael O's lament and her story are profoundly moving, and it seems that the perps have treated her to another order of magnitude of adversity than I got in my formative years. So why are the perps keeping us alive, and what are they after that is so elusive that they undertake escalated (since 2002-03 for most TI's) nonconsensual research by way of outwardly covert means? One oblique answer was, "if you only knew", from my supposedly demented father after I ragged his ass for standing in front of the TV for the umpteenth time. So I asked him to tell me what I didn't know, but he scuttled off, the fucking quisling. This was the most sensical and context appropriate statement he said in at least four years, totally out of character, and then he takes off. And I get to "babysit" him for tomorrow afternoon. I wonder what the deal is, and if it is some kind of forced proximity games, just him and I. My answer to that is, been there, done that. Not only in the past year, but when he was in his abusive prime, going back a few decades. I was his helper in his geological prospecting of a coal lease area for 10 days. I should of got additional danger pay for traumatization, even then at age 20.

Time to call this one done, and hope that I don't get 30 minutes of head tossing on each side before sleep is allowed. No recalled dreams or other activity in the night though, a rarity.


Apocalypto said...

Hang in there. Too bad you can't emigrate here to Florida and obtain a concealed weapons license. The threat of death definitely has a negative effect on the scumbags.

I post on the blog, Wanderings. Don't do it very often, but that's how I got your link after writing a post about the scum torturing my cat to the point where I'm going to have to put him down to save him from pain.

I saw you stopped by. God bless you.

We are dealing wiith the lowest form of life on the planet.

You're not the only Canadian I've heard from who has been subjected to the jackhammer phenomenon. Anybody cranks up a jackhammer around me and I'll put a 500 grain soft nose through his stupid ass. It'll take down a Cape buffalo. Should make one hell of a mess out of a stalker, don't you think? Good luck.

AJH said...

Packing a peacemaker would decidedly change the dynamic around me, all for the good. But not permitted here of course, and hence this ongoing cat and mouse game that goes to bizarre levels all to maintain this pretend front of covertness. Like who are they fooling?

Nice to converse, thanks for stopping by.