Monday, February 02, 2009

Monday Travails

As I type the title in, and see a forced typo and am about to correct it, a male voiced street shout from outside suddenly erupted. I notice that the perps are constantly noisestalking me anytime I fix typos in my written journal, forced ones of course. And just more of what the fuckers have been doing all my life. They cannot get enough of me when I detect errors, and then act on them. And in fact, any decision making of late, no matter how trivial gets coincident noise at the very moment; street hollaring, coughing from the hallway (or behind me on the city bus this morning), tapping noises, siren cascades and the rest of it. Completion of tasks is another intensely noisestalked "event" that is getting much recent interest.

This is a Monday, and a return from the home of the First Feral Family, the parents that gave me over to this insane turpitude of mind control experimentation, life sabotage, and for the past seven years nearly, life rape. I stayed over Sunday night at their place, and because I get a dose of TV, (read magnetic radiation too), exposure to favorite perp themes, do the same things in a different place, and have two perp abetting parents around me, it always follows that Monday, the day of my return, is always scripted for intensified harassment and other fuckery.

They pulled an all-time greatest toilet overflow on me within the first hour of arriving at my place; regular readers will know that last Monday they pulled an incredible shit stunt when at my in-town brother's place, sparing the details. Today, they had the turbid water overflow and take three towels to mop up, and then faked me out into thinking it was working with a few more flushes that went through, and then pulled a clean fresh water overflow stunt that took another three towels to mop up. So..., that was two toilet overflows with an intervening through flush to separate the respective water conditions, and then having me use the same kind and color of towels to mop it all up, and then launder them all together. Can we get any more consistent and deliberate than that? Not much, and I won't get into the similarities of this, and last Monday's toilet games.

Regular readers will know that toilet blocking was the perps' first most deliberate stunt when they invaded my apartment in person, after pretending not to arrive, in 04-2002. And ever since then I haven't been allowed to take a shit without fear of overflows and other messy games. That is closing in on seven years of playing with my crap, and still they are attempting to extract their results by remote means. And to close this one off, there has been a decided increase of septic tanker trucks circulating in traffic in the past three years, and I have a strong suspicion it might be mine that is in the tank, taken directly from me or from the sewer pipes or perhaps both. Enough on this topic.

And as I didn't visit my parent's last weekend owing to an early Monday appointment, I suppose the perps were making up for a missed opportunity (though they did me over on Friday). My father was doing his pathetic dementia act again, laying it on thick and then later conversing with my mother in normal tones when I wasn't around. One big show, or even if it is for real, one pathetic asshole quisling. He was doing his doorway skulking again; loitering in the hallway leading to the living room where I was, and playing a kind of peekaboo, projecting only his leading features of his face and shoes to be seen by me, and then proceeding incrementally some more, and then either relenting and starting again later (at first), or else (later) sitting in the auric penumbric shadow of my mother, aligned behind her, and still in keeping with his partial presentation practice. Other games he gets into when watching TV is to stand up from his chair, and then move laterally in increments towards me, and then walk off in an orthogonal pattern, often coming back to do his doorway skulking as described. He did a stand-up timed exactly for a touchdown or hockey goal highlight on the sports news portion.

And it is always interesting to watch TV once a week and see what has been arranged along the perps' consistent themes and presentation of the Favored and the Unfavored. The Global TV Vancouver news is one where the blonde announcer has replaced the male, and then the blonde woman meteorologist has a particular role that there seems to draw much perp timing/coordination. They have me talking or talked to when she comes on for the first time, call me out of the room to miss her piece, catch her when the mute is on, have me hear her voice from the kitchen but unable to watch and a number of other see/hear/react sensory permutations, all over the past six years of parental visitations.

Then Sixty Minutes came on an unscheduled channel with a repeat of the Obama interviews, not wanting to go up against the Superbowl in the ratings it would seem. (I did not see the Superbowl, and don't have much interest in football, even if the perps tried long ago. The game just doesn't flow, is complex, and likely overwhelmed my cognitive abilities to absorb at the time, and then became a "so what".) Then Doc Martin came on with medical themes (Unfavored) along with the dishy Caroline Katz as the possible suitor for the stuffy doctor. I can't get enough of watching her, though I am not sure it is entirely my choice. Then came Rebus a Scottish detective show, and plenty of references and pictures of Africans (from the plot), and Scots accents, another long standing perp planted theme that might have to do with meeting a rather infamous Scotsman, Dr. Ewen Cameron in Montreal when I was there in 1956-7. And I learned yesterday that there was another return trip, likely in 1958-59 for which I have no recollection, as I found some pictures of both me and my younger brother when looking at old family pictures yesterday, and for which purposes I will reveal later this week. And then the CBC news program, Sunday Night, and usually doesn't dwell excessively on perp themes, save the plenty of red and white colors of the graphics for cutting to a commercial break or returning from one. So..., I got my dose of negroes, Scottish accents, blondes, skinheads (central protagonist in Rebus), suits (bankers in Rebus, Obama too) all from the Favored and Unfavored. And don't ask me how the perps put all this together, and the effort it takes, often with lead times of a few years for the above mentioned serial TV programs.

Other intensified perp games this Monday morning while still at my parents' place was reworking the compost, an abortive attempt to replace the outside mailbox with the mailwoman "happening" to arrive and ring the doorbell and give my parents' mail to me in person when there was no box on the wall, unrolling carpets in the downstairs den (incremental color exposure, recall carpet auction jobs of last year), mold on said carpets, pointless vacuuming as if the mold would come off, then pointless chemical cleaning of some mold by my mother, and crimping the chain of the toilet tank level to the flap valve which somehow "lost" 3" of chain length from two weeks ago when it last "happened" to fall off. While I don't consider the topic of compost to be germane to me or my life directly, the perps have had a long standing interest in this topic, and had Ms. C of the story take a Master Composter training. The mold games were decidedly affrontive; I would not of expected the mold to grow inside the house as there had been no other signs of dampness and the carpet had been moved about a year ago with no signs of mold. No doubt it was a custom job, and not one that was augmented. I took the city bus back downtown to my place, and it wasn't quite the freakshow that it has been in the past, but there were more subtle signs of Perps At Work. The city bus "passenger"/gangstalker trips have been moderated of late, and that might suggest there have been some developments in perpland to embolden them to take on more complexity.

And even from the first moments of getting up this morning, the perps have been hammering me with thoughts of an imminent, end of Feburary, cessation of hostilities. As before, I get about three of these events a year, and so far, have been correct in identifying them as total mind planted bullshit. There is far too much investment in this town, and in me, to let me off on a technical accomplishment milestone. If they attain 100% mind control, which seems to be the case, it is less than a quarter of what they are after. On with the show, and end this fucking bullshit. It is fucking tiresome to be refuting persistent planted thoughts of little merit or substance if you didn't already know. I don't know of other TI's who get this, but it has been relatively consistent with me after the first year.

Breaking from the Sunday night, Monday harassment train, I note another important noisestalk and phenomenon eruption event of the perps. They put on noises and/or other intrusions when I make a decision; it could be a choice of vocabulary, finishing paper journalling, fixing a typo (from the myriads I get sabotaged with), electing to say something (presumably the thought was planted, and I choose to act on it or not).

And now vacuuming in the hallway has just erupted with simultaneous bus noise from outside. A "special" it would seem as no one has attended to the increasing garbage in the laundry room over the past month, this ever building show or belongings that has nothing to do with laundry, and presumably as some kind of prop for laundry interaction games, particularly when it is spinning around. They have plastics in various colors, red and yellow, clothing of various kinds, cardboard, a lint in various shades of blue and grey, grey colored pillows now, and other seeming reject debris. So whoever is doing cleaning at this time of day, 1700h now, is highly dedicated and going beyond the call of duty. And to no surprise, there has been excess vacuum cleaning in all my past apartments and residences since the harassment began in 04-2002. On with the show, and I suppose it isn't enough that I do vacuuming as part of the cleaning job I am about to depart for. This must be a "warmup at home" to get some of that vortex energy here and hope to see it at the jobsite, two blocks distant. Never have so many Fuckwits spent so much time vacuuming in the proximity of one person. Noisestalk that.

At the cleaning job tonight they arranged two male swarms around me while trapped in a narrow hallway and attempting to get through with the vacuum cleaner in hand. This was a confluence of three male supposed staff that had all "decided" to leave at the same time, around 1800h. And too, they like me to see their black coats, especially the long ones. They had already put on a "light swarm" of only two males at that same location about 30 minutes earlier, one doing the passing-by cough act, and in red hair, one of the Unfavored demographic groups. And three nights ago they arranged for the attractive blonde saleswoman to be passing by that same location with me about to exit the hallway and bump into her, but fortuneatly there was no collision. So one could surmise that the perps are serially stalking a given location with an Flavored blonde, and then Unfavored males on later days, in their quasi-MIB clothing. The blonde stalking event of three days ago was another perp managed blindside jerkaround, as normally I don't get into situations of entering into a thoroughfare without looking, at least by myself, and unlike the passel of Fuckwits that pull this very stunt on the sidewalk.

And more strategically planted dirt clods in the auto showroom, and in strange places like beside the tire of a showroom (new) vehicle. Like how did it get there? At least last week's dirt clod games had a putative source as one of the offices. And the boss man came to stand over me as I reached out with the vacuum cleaner over the just-mopped surface and picked off this dirt clod that had "somehow" missed his mopping and didn't explode into mud. All planned to sub-millimeter precision is my experience with these assholes, which includes the 20 to 200 crumb games per day. So where was that dirt clod from, and why is it that I get to have someone stand over me while it gets taken up by the vacuum cleaner? As regular readers will know, the perps have a fixation over soil, its color, where it is from, its properties (organic, silt, sand, loam, genesis, etc.) and its energetic interaction with me, and more often, my footwear. Hence last summer's casual labor job digging for daffodil bulbs, and having plenty of soil on my clothes, me and showering and laundering each day afterwards.

At the car dealership where I do the cleaning job I see that they put some new Mazda parts for me to walk past with plenty of empty brown boxes around them, so I assume that brown color energies persist in an object even if removed from its wrapping or box. Which makes sense with all the brown box packing Fuckwits I encounter on the street, and too, the pallet stalking that goes on each week. So many things are packed on wood pallets in brown colored boxes, and it makes perfect sense that the energies of the packaging, if you believe in such, persist in the object itself. Not to mention the immediate packaging of styrene (styrofoam), cardboard, foil, mylar and other plastic wrapping etc. And too, there are so many things that are shipped in containers, and yes, I have had extensive vehicular stalking by shipping container bearing trucks, not to mention seeing plenty of them used as ersatz storage buildings, construction site storage and other like applications. And if in need, the perps will put one on the street in a parking stall and leave it there for a few weeks, as if it were used for local renovations even when there are none to be seen. And likely related to this topic of shipping containers, the perps like me to see architectural examples of them being used in buildings as modular construction components. So far I haven't been too impressed about insulating such surfaces, and such avant garde architecture hasn't made it here yet.

And I am quite sure that many of the products I buy or even see in the stores may have been taken off the factory production line and isolated from the energetic effects of being stored for long periods in boxes, shipping containers and on pallets. I suppose this notion of speculating what the perps have done about objects in my environment was planted, and who knows how it might of got here, as anytime I mention teleportation I get noisestalked as well as somehow "attracting" some reactionary comments that I don't allow to be published. Even Anonymous #1, (not the Anonymous #2 TI who makes supportive comments, -thanks, whoever you are), didn't last one round of debate before he folded. But I did get a nice softball from him so to generate the FAQ posting you see on the righthand side.

Other action tonight was keeping me in the LD store while my prints were being scanned, as the store has a policy of not keeping the owner's effects, but strangely, the CD won't be ready until tomorrow. So this kept me in play for some 10 minutes from one end of the store to the other, seeking continuous refuge from the Fellini-like freakshow they put on, not to mention dithering my reactions to be more significant and immediately repelled; skinhead males, bad hair dye jobs, males in white shirts and ties, a featured male not doing shopping who reprised in two orthogonal directions, plenty of Asians (I assume they fall under the brown skin tone demographic group, and hence, Unfavored), the yellowjackets, the redcoats, the choreographed Fuckwits exiting their respective aisles in parallel ahead of me (amazing, and at least two wearing red), and the overdone red lipstick. I couldn't get out of there fast enough, but that was futile. They put a red coated and blue backpacking dude ahead of me in the store, then leading me some 60' to the W. outside, which then led me to split and take an alternate route, only to have this same Fuckwit rejoin me at the intersection nearest my apartment building. I have had at least three of these 3+ same-journey-partial-alternate-route reprising gangstalkers on me in the last three months, and they especially like to come out in dim or no daylight conditions. I would think that is three times normal, as I never had so many same journey reprising street encounters before the harassment began. And to cap off my arrival back in the apartment lobby, why an Asian male in a hideous yellow jacket and the regular negro skinhead male who were "having a chat" in the lobby and stayed in place as I took the elevator. Give me a break; who the fuck would loiter in the lobby of an apartment building that is in the local news as being the location where someone was murdered about three years ago? Just the Fuckwits who have it all figured out, if not choreographed.

I am getting plenty of noisestalking and additonal forced typos, as I finish up here, consistent with the above noted incidence of this happening at completion time. On with the earmuffs to re-read and edit this posting, and now to post it and hope for no Monday night sleep deprivation games.


Anonymous said...

Hello fellow TI:

I am so happy that some board operators are allowing posts without associated email addresses. In the beginning, every resistance movement must operate in secrecy. That is why our opponents are so keen about surveillance efforts. Thank you for allowing the expression of dissent.

It is a grave error to under-estimate one's opponent, and a smaller but fairly serious error to over-estimate it. (I guess that's why there are only a few good field generals in the average army)

In our particular case, the opponents arsenal has been amplified by technology, making him seem bigger than he is. Cut the technology out from under him, and he is nothing. To wit, please consider the following sub section of one of my previous posts:


Each of us (targeted individuals) must be strong like Solomon, even to keep breathing in the face of the current trend for worldwide, organized, automated harassment.

In addition to the political silencing of dissidents, individuals around the world are being put under the same sort of circumstance as that which Leopoldo describes for himself. These people are being added to a rather poorly vetted database of those considered "undesirable".

Societally undesirable means whomever the sadistic mob wants to abuse at any given moment. A target's name was likely put into the database for "spitting on the street", (in some cases, literal meaning) or for no bloody real reason at all. It is mob lynching gone wild, and is spiraling out of control.

From my position at the bottom of the fish spear barrel, it is sometimes difficult to see what's happening down the street. (This, of course, is true of all targeted individuals). However; it's becoming clear by means of repetitive inductions, deductions and similar conclusions, that what is happening involves several tiers of operation.

There exists a core group of people, including a number of technocrats, who "run" the mobs, community groups, etc. They supply the technical device and service requirements, run the databases and other software, manage things, and make sure that the "lynching system" is always up to par.

Members of the public are solicited to participate within the "program". Everyone has a little sadists hidden away in the recesses of the darker part of their being, but it is stronger in some people than others, and the program directors seek out the people most willing to inflict pain on others without remorse, so as to minimize any witness against them in the future (by those who would show remorse, regret, etc)

Unfortunately, the directors find a lot of recruits. In my opinion, up to twenty percent of the population is currently engaged in the program, although some of them may not yet see the sadistic program for what it really is.

The whole thing is controlled by gps-located cellphones, and the automotive equivalent of same (That nifty little device that warns you of upcoming road hazards, if you are willing to allow your vehicle to be tracked in order to have the applicable service)

People in the "program", have one of these little devices, or just a cell phone (also outfitted with real-time tracking), so the that lynching system's database (on the back end) has real-time location entries, updated continually and automatically, for every cellphone and automotive device in the "program".

On the targeted individuals end, he is being tracked, and is probably aware of this, but does not know how it is being accomplished. A bug is placed on a persons automobile if such a person has ever been placed in the system's database. The bug can be made to look like a chunk of rust, or a legitimate automotive component, and contains a battery that can last up to ten years (my speculation). It cannot be found by electronic means because the pulse it emits is too short. In the blind, no spectrum analyzer will ever find it for this reason.

As the target moves around the streets, the system's database has location entries for both the targeted individual and for all of the "program members" who might be in close proximity.

That, of course, is the beauty of their system, in that it is not necessary for them to "send cars" to harass and to chase targets around town ... there are so many "program members", that one or more is always within striking distance. This is why targets sometimes feel like they are being "swarmed". It's likely that there was never a plan to create the swarm, but it was created because many "program members" happened to be in the area at a particular time.

If a "program member" is within a certain distance from a target (as determined automatically by the system), a little beep goes off on their little dashboard mounted gps-located device, and a little red dot shows the location (relative to them) of the target, along with suggestions relating to how best to handle (read harass) the target, and a little photograph of same. It's all automatic ... immediate ... dastardly.

Consider what happens to your job prospects if, as an unfortunate target, your potential employer's cellphone rings during your interview. He looks down upon the gps-enabled phone (trying to be discrete), and notices a little red dot (your car in the lot). With up to twenty percent of the population engaging in this asininity, even if your interviewer does not have a cell phone beeping with a red dot, his assistant manager does.

It is this aspect of mobile computing power that makes this author curse the day the computer was born. It was inevitable that computing technology would ultimately be uses by mankind to destroy mankind. Think about what Hitler could have accomplished with this technology. Sprechen sie Deutch, meine freunden?

An international company, of sorts, is making very big profits running the database(s), providing the equipment, etc. What is needed is a class action lawsuit against the manufacturers who actively support these various operations (by knowing to what use the products are put, and by whom) and the operators of the computer-backed cell network infrastructure for the same reason. A few companies supply the technical support for this operation, they know what they are doing (destroying people), and they should be held accountable (read lawsuit, jail).

Like the Jews of WWII Germany, millions of oppressed individuals are being harassed on a daily basis, for no legitimate reason whatsoever (not to imply that there could be any reason, outside of the legal system)

Unlike the Jews of WWII, the current targets of organized oppression are being harassed by an automated, computer driven machine that is relentless in it's pursuit to destroy the innocent. Hitler smiles in his grave. - Will2BFree

AJH said...

I sometimes wonder if Hitler wasn't doing the bidding of the real players at times, and some of my conspiratorial speculations have taken me to consider if WWII wasn't highly controlled for nefarious perp remote study objectives, some of which I come to know. Never mind the strange things like the glowing orbs of the "foofighters" that would track the aircraft and temporarily knock out their radar. This is a front row seat in the world of the strange.