Monday, April 13, 2009

My Street Crossing Guards

I did the city bus freakshow both ways to my perp abetting parent's place, coming back today. The First Feral Family are feigning coughing and a general disinclination to do anything, complaining about the cold, and later slipping in the dreaded "flu" word. I notice my mother did not take any more echinacea since I got some for her last week, and so that would be another oddity on top of the well-timed coughing. Their cough timing was especially noted for blondes first appearing on TV, my attention shifting, sudden display of red on TV and when grasping both teapots at once.

And when getting off the bus I had my little posse with me to cross the street; two together. A blonde woman was 3' from me, and a older woman in a blonde-like yellow coat was doing the same 10' away, all of us lined up crossing the road in unison, and only me looking to see if there was any oncoming traffic that couldn't been seen past the departing bus. Funny how that is, some folks know exactly when to blow a red light, don't look when crossing a street, or turn a corner in a vehicle looking the opposite direction.

Today, it was Easter Monday, a half-assed holiday here; governments, banks and public services but not businesses close. I got on the bus in the suburbs, and had my Asian continent around me within some 5 stops, and then they inserted a few male semi-vagrant types, not your typical suburban dweller. Then came a few bad hair dye jobs, as the perps like to put them around me, and they even had one Asian boy in brown hair for crissakes. Then the pseudo-grunge babe sat down in front of me; black hair with a blue portion in front and heavy on the steel and silver studs and rings on her well made up face. After that, I got the Asian coughing dude who first leaned over my seat back, seeming to want to maximize germ spread, and then when two stops from getting off, he then sits in front of me where the pseudo-grunge babe was. Normally I get off my seat just ahead of the bus pulling into the bus stop, but lo, if I wasn't strangely compelled to break this habit and stand at the rear bus exit, waiting for a extended traffic light signal. One of the Asians that had got on the stop before, now came to stand beside me at the rear exit when there were plenty of seats availible. Call it a just-boarded gangstalker; the timing of bus boarding seems to be very important for the perps.

A Lindt chocolate bunny pig-out; 100g of chocolate each, and I was going to eat only one when I was strangely compelled to eat the second one. I will likely get more UPS truck gangstalking like I did immediately before hand. It doesn't take much to figure it out; chocolate in a gold yellow foil, begets a drive-by with UPS trucks with the same colored livery. There was a reason UPS moved into Canada some 10 or more years ago.

On TV last night I saw The March of the Penguins. The first time I had seen snippets of it, and tonight was the first time since late 2004 I was allowed to see an entire show, even if there were commercials every 15 minutes. No penguin sightings today, unless you count seeing the Linux penguin on a website. [2330h -not true anymore; a penguin chick was on a website].

But there was some strange synchronicity last night with 60 Minutes. We were eating in the living room and watching TV, (read, magnetic radiation from the cathode ray tube), and had finished up the main course, and I was starting on an alimond torte for dessert when my perp-abetting mother brought a plastic bagful of grapes to my dinner tray and mentioned that I might want some. (Some, not the five pounds of them for crissakes). Anyhow, 60 Minutes was on, and it was the piece on the developments in developments in prosthetic devices, advanced by the US military. A new robotic arm had been developed, and there were directional push pads in the amputee's feet to manipulate the glove like fingers and opposable thumb. And lo, if the amputee didn't demonstrate his dexterity by selecting and picking up one grape from a bunch of them in front of him. No wonder my mother looked so contrite about dumping the full bag of grapes in front of me.

And while watching Morse, and the later March of the Penguins, the perps were putting on all manner of distracting masers, plasma dazzlings, and even messed with my vision to have the TV image skewed out of horizontal for a few seconds in each of about five incremental skew displacements.

Other action was my father in his Alzheimer's act doing his ususal stalking, sudden stand ups for no reason, and then hanging in my behind my mother as seen from my perspective when he has a perfectly adequate chair with the best view that was empty. This was his assigned location when I arrived yesterday, and to be more perverse, he had his navy blue jacket on inside the house and my mother (strangely) didn't have him take it off. Later, while watching the March of the Penguins, he put on a babbling act that was very clever. He used words and phrases that were part of his vocabulary and with a modicum of initial sense and relevance and then lapsed into nonsense. It seemed that this little monologue was designed to stimulate one's attention as he began to speak in his once-normal terms, and then fell out of it, into a nonsense phase. He kept this up for at least 15 minutes, all over penguins and it was truly amazing that this act was sustainable and had this consistent blend of initial sense and then nonsense. Whoever gave him that script was working very hard to keep it going. And as usual, I was about to bail out when he gave it up.

A toilet flood tonight; all I did was pee, and lo, if it didn't creep over the rim for 1.5 towels worth of mopped up water. The current record for overflow water volume is 3 full wet towels to soak it all up. Not exactly the most scientific measure, but one that is the reality of having one's toilet constantly plagued with sabotage everytime it is used. An early always-on-Monday crap immediately following my arrival from the bus stop was assigned a near overflow status, but somehow the plunging didn't work, and it did not dissolve either. It fits the pattern of more blatant sabotage in the last four months, and it seems that plausible cover stories are needed less. That wasn't the only rage-ification stunt today, not by a long shot.

They totally went beserk after relative calm while online all afternoon when making dinner tonight. At least 10 full volume rage-ification stunts; provocations were selecting the wrong drawer, flicking food sideways, excess water dripping noise, foiling my grasp, forcing a "forget" on turning on the burner, and at least four stun-outs or incorrect attention gaze. The stun-outs are where they have me standing there not "knowing" which cupboard or location to retirieve something (usually in the kitchen), and the attention redirection jerkaround is when they having me looking at the wrong object when intending to get another one. This form of remote mind control started in 2007, and is a particular piss off as it never happened ever before. If I wanted the blue mug for tea, then that is what I looked at when I opened the appropriate cupboard, 100% of the time, everytime until this rather mundane mental function was selected for sabotage at least one quarter of when intending to retrieve an object. The assigned "reaction" to this new imposition is total rage, likely because I have a deep rooted total defence of my competance, won by triumphs over adversities of learning disabilities and cognitive sabotage. Very possibly they are both sides of the same coin. I haven't yet been apprised as to the difference and the historic levels of remotely applied cognitive impairments.

The towel mop up meant a laundering tonight, all duly prepared for by someone smearing brown paint in the laundry room. It seems that the brown door wasn't enough, even if they did prop it open while laundering. At least they got rid of the Christmas paper rolls in the laundry room, as it has been a significant location of all manner of things being "left" there, presumably as some kind of color reference for interaction with the laundry as it spins in the respective washing machine and dryer.

A work night at the part time cleaning job at the car dealership. No big jerkarounds, though they did give me reason to be annoyed by flipping the vacuum bag 180 degrees all by itself. They did this last time I changed the vacuum cleaner bag and dumped a cupful of soil on the floor which had to be cleaned up as soon as the new bag was put in the vacuum cleaner. Tonight, just a 4" dusting fell out from the bag being flipped due to forces of extra-conventional and remote application. And did I mention the vacuum bag is brown colored? I see that the Mazda dealership is home to more odd vehicles; a Mercedes B class was there for two days last week, a Hyundai was outside the door of the Service section. Inside, all the vehicles were Mazdas, though the odd Cadillac, Buick, Jeep, Hyundai, Ford truck, and a few others have had overnight stays. And I see that the Parts section is more stocked with parts in brown cardboard boxes and filling up the aisleways all the more. Par for the course; bringing in the brown, closer and deeper and for longer. If you don't know why I reference the color of brown, read this posting on the sickos preoccupation with this color and presenting it to me in myriad ways and degrees.

And I see yesterday's post didn't get posted until now; I recall that I did post it, but either it was sabotaged or a mindfuck was planted to make me think it had been done when it wasn't. The perps can now plant the notion of "for sure", a meta knowlege qualifier applied to what I know, and can now be directly manipulated. Very disruptive to say the least.

It isn't over until I get to sleep; that would be this Monday of continued toilet sabotage. A second forced crap of the day and another toilet overflow; "only" one towel worth of mop up, now laundering for the second time today. That makes two toilet overflow sabotage stunts today, and three plunging events, both a new record in abusive depravity from the sick assholes who make my life, if it truly can be called that, more like their imposed life, an utter and relentless fucking hell everytime I attempt anything. And due to their preoccupation with the color of brown, and the possible trail of traumatizations that might be associated with it, the assholes are still at it.They haven't the gumption to present themselves and obtain cooperation to expedite their research objectives into months rather than years, and continue this insane abuse on top of what they seem to have delivered and cannot remediate in the recall deletion days of two to five years of age. What is the matter with these sickos that they continue with the most arduous and adverse way possible,(remote application without cooperation), to attempt to resolve their traumatization afflictions of over 50 years ago? They totally fucked up, as traumatization consequences seems to be a problem for them, and then they fucked up again by allowing, if not promoting plastics and other pollutant ingestions that also create research adversity (bigtime), and then fucked up again if their LSD experimentation of those same lost years is true (seems to be, given the constant plasma color enhancement simulations they keep presenting all day long), and seven years later they are still attempting the most adverse methods by way of applied remotely nonconsensual human experimentation. What it the matter with the perps that they are so fucking stupid, sick and won't attempt any apparent efficiencies that are so fucking plain?

No doubt slathering the laundry room in brown paint is also part of the double toilet overflow day, and it does make me wonder what is the matter with the assholes that keep pulling off this bullshit all the time. Little did I know in 2002 when they first struck overtly that I would be dealing with toilet capers every fucking time. And that a host of insane saboteurs would be chasing my shit down the street in the pipes, and that they would rip up an entire city block (street) to lay down new sewer mains so they could study my crap to greater levels by eliminating extant environmental variables. Or that they would send their Fuckwits down into the sewer manhole after I was out of town for a week as some kind of "welcome" when I returned, and of course, forcing me to have a shit within the hour of getting back. And this is not the only insane cause the perps are on about; the continued inundation with fucking crumbs placed everywhere for me to pick up is another one; they are coming from nowhere now, teleported directly onto my dinner plate or in front of me, and then when picked up they magically get smaller in increments at each pass. Who would be this insane for this long (seven years) and still keep at it in the same way? Only the perps could take institutionalized and embedded organizational insanity to a new and unheard of level of magnitude, and still keep at it. Fucking beserk, as it is bizarre as it is truly depraved.

I am calling this one done; the consolation prize was that I was allowed to remember the towel was in the dryer after completion of drying, and that no one shut the dryer down on me or stole the towel. And I had time to marvel at the brown paint flicking and smearing in the laundry room; all over the 6'x2.5' counter, and on the green plastic garbage can as well, but not on the walls or floor. Truly a work of art, as in Fuckwit Beserkness.


Anonymous said...

I just got the funny ringing sensation in my right ear, and it's one of those temporary deals, which makes it suspicious to me that perps are doing it. First, there is this pure, high-pitched tone perceived by my right inner ear. Then it fades to imperceptible, then gradually gets louder to moderate loudness, then fades completely. It doesn't sound natural at all, but rather, much like one of those 'hearing test' tones. Are the perps trying to tell me my hearing is still good at upper frequencies by this 'test'?

AJH said...

Answer to: I just got the funny ringing sensation...

No, they don't need to test your ears because they can monitor aural responses better than the victim can. But what it seems, is that they like to change pitch because it activates a part of the brain that monitors environmental changes. Also, they play plenty of loud then softer games with noises with me, and I sense they are probing what parts of one's brain are continuing to monitor that sound. The perps are totally fascinated whenever I stop listening to a noise that is trailing off. At the instant I am not paying attention because it is inaudible, they put on noisestalking. Thanks for the comments.