Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Berry Picking Miscellany

June 20 to July 07, 2009

This posting will take several weeks to write, as I have limited time before going to bed at 2100h, all to recover from a day in the sun berry picking. We are still doing strawberries, the worst of the lot as they require extensive crouching.

A crew of six native Indians, save one, arrived by stealth in the next strawberry patch through the trees. I did not know they were there until the afternoon break, when looking for more berry tray boxes, the typical pint size one sees in the grocery store. The one native Indian I did meet of this group was in the morning, and she went off to pick in this partially obscured field all on her own, with no apparent direction. Later, another five arrived in vehicles, with the copper colored one partially visible through the intervening trees between the two fields. The woman went off to get the forman to tell him about running out of boxes, but she never returned, except at break when she was crouched some 120' beyond me at the end of the rows, not even picking with the rest of her group, talking on her cell phone. Hpw she got there without me seeing her arrive is another one of those mystery questions. When going in on her break, she then passed by me still talking on her cell phone. It would seem that the localized electromagnetic field of a cell phone has become highly favored of late, as there has been so much more "cell phone stalking".

Another weird event was after a lunch break when a never-seen-before dude arrives in mid-field and starts talking to the Mexican berry picker in English, asking to borrow his bicycle. The Mexican clearly did not know what he was talking about, except to say, "si, si" and the dude went off to get the bicycle. I remarked out loud as to the aburdity of this stunt, though not calling it that, and the Caucasian woman picker next to me gave me an extended stare without saying anything. More absurdity heaped on.

Then a banana "showed up" in the corner of a brown cardboard flat box under the table at the field edge where all the pint trays are transferred to the "flats", the packing boxes. The crew lead drew this to my attention for whatever reason, going on to say it was one of the berry pickers leaving his food about. As regular readers will know, "banana stalking" is a common perp stunt for yellow color reference, (insice or outside of one's stomach), and this one came without a person walking around with it, or eating it, the usual banana presentation habits of the perps.

Other nonsense of the strange is empty cardboard boxes that once contained the pint containers "arriving" in mid strawberry field, for no seeming purpose. No one packs them out there for any purpose, so why are they arriving by themselves. My stock answer is that it is a localized brown color reference as the fuckers don't want to have brown dressed gangstalkers/berry pickers for whatever reason.

And what is with the hoodie dudes on the city bus? They have their hoods down when waiting at the bus stop and then put them up when on the bus which is warmer of course. Other variations are to have the dudes wearing their ballcaps backward, both at the same bus stop, and when on board they pretend they don't know each other. Because when they get off at the same bus stop, why they strike up a conversation and walk side by side.

There are at least three different negroes on the city bus trips to/from berry picking, and they keep changing up their bus stop when inbound. In one instance, the skinheaded negro was on the back of the bus ahead, which got there by dint of some magical fuckery as it wasn't on the street beforehand, and isn't scheduled. Somehow, another city bus arrived ahead of the one I was on (only one route) and then the negro made sure he sat in the rear so he could be seen by me from the bus behind. Why all this posing of the Unfavored demographic group members (negroes, males) between buses, as well an on the bus behind me, then later on the bus in front of me, is all about I have no fucking idea. I want to be left alone, and don't wish to have my predilections, likes and dislikes to be paraded all over town, and of wide knowledge among the gangstalkers, shils and operatives, all sick assholes. In many cases I had no idea I had an aversion, say, to big black vehicles that keep getting placed around me. Often they like to vary the scale and have the side of a double decker city bus all in black to simulate the effect they are looking for. It would seem the scale of the object at the time of traumatization association is important; as a 2 to 5 y.o. victim the scale of the traumatizations would be very different to that of an adult.

And I still get to have the Punjabis (E. Indians) farm workers in my proximity like last year, though at a different farm. When they don't know the language, as it seems, they join the dispossed and marginalized as farm laborers. One of the long bearded males seems particularly chosen to rag me, so to speak. I was showing a book (Richard Hoagland's Dark Mission), to one of the other berry pickers who is interested in the conspiracy angles on our history, and then this E. Indian in light blue dress comes over and steps into my personal space and puts out his hand and says "gimme". I asked just what he saw that warranted this particular rudeness and he babbled something in Punjabi. So in other words, he had no genuine interest in what was of interest, and nor did he even care to become interested, nor could he, as he didn't speak or read English. One doesn't need any translation, that was fucking rude by any cultural norms, and I let him know it. He didn't seem too fussed about the caustic response he got from me, so obviously this was a stunt to get me pissed off. Mission accomplished.

Another E. Indian WTF moment was two days ago when an E. Indian with a plywood box that packs 10 pint trays for the fruit, a "carrier", was packed full of dirt when I arrived in the box of the pickup, and he proceeded to walk around the vehicle with this bizarre concoction in hand. Later in the day I got muddied up from the rain that came on at noon time (for lunch) and stayed that way for two more hours of weed pulling. This was a field of ever-bearing strawberries that needed shade cloth to keep cool; the plastic shade cloth was draped over tensioned wires on posts and forced plenty of crawling and crouching to get underneath. A plastic (shade cloth) over plastic (poly plastic of the strawberry bed) day, repeating in the same location when pulling weeds on another wet day, without the shade cloth and supporting posts and wires then.

This same E. Indian has the unerring knack of arriving ahead of the bus, and to be some 120' ahead of me and walking in mid-road, downhill from a hill that obscures oncoming vehicles. A fuck of a stupid place to be in the road given the extensive traffic at 0700h, though very likely gangstalking traffic owing to the color configurations of the vehicles when in file. Another stunt of his was to pass his ass some inches from my face when scrambling in the box of the farm pickup. So some reason he had to make some kind of panicked rush to sit behind the cab, and hence the ass planting jerkaround. A similar stunt unfolded with two other E. Indians in the cab a week later. The same light blue E. Indian likes to sit exactly over where I was sitting when in the pickup box when I get out, and he doesn't. It is like Peter Sellers in the movie, The Party, the E. Indian that constantly fucks something up and escapes any association with the cascade of adverse events. Except it isn't funny, as I have this fucker on me more than most. And if I don't like the sight of turbans, (another one of those dislikes that I have come to "react" to), why is it that this is public knowledge and they are planted in front of me with far greater frequency than is normal?

Other bullshit that has been going down is on the city bus ride, aka, the city bus freakshow. It is amazing how many surface on the 0611h bus to the rural hinterland, but there is an few industrial parks there too. I get the E. Indians (sometimes, per above in-street arrivals by no determinable means), the hoodie dudes, the curly hair types, and a few other Unfavoreds, often packed around me. The perps seem to be taking more liberties in sliding the Unfavoreds behind me, as they do with the negroes on board the bus, Though on the last crowded mid-afternoon bus, they put the male skinhead negro at the rear exit, like a sentry. They even had a blonde woman nearby who eventually sat down, as some kind of auric goodness comparator it would seem. And when I got to sit down I had a sleeping but very garlic smelly Korean next to me, doing the wide legged sit, a familiar male gangstalker pose.

I haven't figured out why the inbound city bus is so crowded as it is; the office crowd seems to be keeping the same hours as me, being there for both outbound and inbound bus trips, with more than one fellow traveller, the ones that get on and off at the identical bus stops as I do.

Enough rambling on the farm laborer gangstalking scene and the strange behaviors that erupt around me, never minding the cultural exploiting stunts as well.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Inadvertent Regular Sunday

I was screwed every which way this morning; a forced "forget" to set the alarm made sure I missed the first Sunday bus to farm/berry picking country. Then the notion was planted that there will be another one in an hour, and an abbreviated breakfast and pack lunch preparation was in order. After the modified breakfast, why, I "happened" to look at the bus schedule and lo, the next bus was at 1330h, making going to the farm pointless from the work perspective. So..., unpack lunch, re-visit breakfast to have coffee, and then do some online time to pass the time before making phone arrangements to change the plan for today. Maximal disruption = perp fuckery. And too, I did phone the foreman about not making it there, excuses, for "some reason" I forgot etc.

A real day off in other words where there wasn't a sense of desparation as to getting the substantial errand list completed like four days ago. (And many of the errands were due to the assholes' sabotage efforts, e.g. trashed wallet replacement). So the re-arrangement was that my mother drove into downtown in the early afternoon and picked me up to then have me drive to visit my father in the old folk's home. We took him to my parent's place, and loafed in the backyard, though he got into his fucking gangstalking poses again. He might not remember his name, but he still knows how to gangstalk somehow.

I caught up on a few things online, planning the next PC upgrade seems to be a high perp priority, even if premature as there are new SATA III mainboards due in the next two months, and it makes sense to wait it out for the new standard. I see that the CPU prices have come down, as well as video cards and storage. It would seem that the perps want any PC upgrade, assuming I have the money for it, to be piecemeal, but in this case they will have to put up with a mainboard, memory, CPU and video card all at once for a new chipset and CPU generation release by Intel. The power supply (PSU) has already been upgraded as of a month ago, but at some point there will be a wholesale upgrade for the components mentioned above, keeping the same storage discs. And my mother can make use of all my old parts, presumably for yet more perp scrutiny on the same hardware (internally) in the family. As the color of everything matters to the perps, nowhere does it matter more than in the PC's wires insulation color and the electrical components, but also the color of copper wire. Hence the greater number of copper colored vehicles they like to chase/gangstalk me with of late.

I have been reading the book "Brain Respiration" that was loaned to me a few days ago by friendly berry pickers. And I discovered (per scripted arrangement) some information that might explain part of the perp's behaviors in seeming to simulate past traumatizations that reside in subconscious recall, and not normal recall as it seems that someone deleted much of my recall when aged two to five. The book indicates that past traumatizations and associations will restrict Chi energy flow. Bingo; the perps are working to have my Chi energy unblocked by the traumatizations they administered (aka tortured and abused) in order to aid their remote detection. In other words, I am getting neurally "repaired" of their inflicted fuckery of over 50 years ago. (I will be 55 next week). But first they must look for my reactions to these emulatory staged events, and then somehow beat it out of me to continue yet more deeper depth fuckery.

And on that note of emulatory traumatization prompts, they did put a man in all white clothing on the bus who made sure to get off at the same stop a me. They know I don't like all white clothed people as much as the dark tinted glass black vehicles that also parade around me in great numbers, but also likely used as a reference color, meaning no reflected colors. As it was a 1957h Sunday city bus, I did get less freaks on board, but at least five passengers going four or less stops for whatever reason, and one who went only one stop. A woman in a white top and black capris sat in front of me for some five minutes and then got off, looking suspiciously like one of the friendly berry pickers I have come to know this past week. As soon as she vacated her seat a black dressed dude in a white ball cap came on board and did his extra stupid head spining activity, pretending to look at things around him when it was all about twisting his spine. Later, and for the last 10 minutes of the bus ride, a woman in a white top and black pants came on board and sat directly aligned behind the dude, some 15' further away. Needless to say, the second woman looked much like the first with the same height, build, clothing colors, and had the same up-do hairstyle. But as she presented only her profile I couldn't be 100% sure it was the same person.

Another doppelganger event on the bus was an E. Indian dude sitting in the transverse seat behind the bus driver for the first 10 minutes of the ride, and where the above mentioned woman in white doppelganger sat. The E. Indian dude reprised his gangstalking in ambulatory form, "happening" to show up on my three block walk back from the bus stop. There must be a new term for double doppelgangers in one city bus trip, especially doing same seat switching.

This will be another short posting as I am heading to bed early to catch up on sleep and keep this two job scenario going. I am sure there is plenty of perp advantages to having this going on, and just to think, "only" one more month of it before the part time car dealership cleaning job is ended. Which is unfortuneate as I expected this to be the job that would keep me in chocolate, this imposed state that serves the perp's brown color games that are endless, and still ongoing.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

More Mexicans

The farm where I do berry picking has a crew of legal Mexicans, ones who have their seasonal work visa. There are about eight of them, and over the past week of berry picking I have been close enough to hear their banter in Spanish, though they like to throw the odd English or decipherable word in as well, e.g. "Africanos". That might have been for my benefit give the undue amount of negro gangstalkers and related stunts, but for now, I will let it go.

But as the Mexicans live on the farm, I only get to hear their banter when I get to the fields, and not before. So..., that wasn't good enough, so three Mexican students were on the bus this morning, speaking mostly in Spanish, though all had passable English abilities. And as it so happened, they were new farm workers, joining us in the fields picking strawberries. A long way of saying I was covered with extra Spanish speech, from the bus to the marshalling area and then in the fields. Naturally they conversed with the work visa Mexicans, and there was plenty of extra conversing, all in Spanish. Not that I mind, but it shows how much the perps want to cover me with the sounds of human voice in a language I don't know; catching me on a 30 minute bus ride has now been added to their "must listen" playlist. Tonight, after working at the cleaning job at the car dealership, they planted two Russian speakers outside, within 60' of the building's driveway, presumably for my benefit. That is, their benefit, for whatever they get from it.

The perps have been going a little stir crazy in the heat of late; they kept flashing me images of red strawberries on the vine, before picking after I was long gone from the farm. This occured on my way to the bus stop, at the bus stop (a 30 minute vehicular gangstalking parade), on the bus and now when I am back at my place. This is in addition to the red plasma flash stunts I get in peripherial vision all the time when not picking strawberries. The perps have also added green plasma displays as needed, transitory as usual. A full vision field green plasma was put over the street for two seconds or so, all to alarm me that there was something extremely odd as I was viewing it.

The perps have been busy laying on the dude gangstalker show of late; obesers, skinheads, big hats, and like shiftless vermin keep "erupting" in my view. The current fave of the perps is hoodies, the gangstalkers with them down while waiting, and then put them on when seated on the bus, lined up in my view, and for me to see when my attention is directed toward them. Most of the hoodies have been black or grey colored, and I haven't figured out what the hoodies are all about. As seen from the back, a common presentation, they look like a featureless alien head; the longer skull proportions being arranged for the most part. They even had a blonde woman in a black hoodie on the bus, she getting off where I could see her nose and chin (nicely proportioned), with her blonde hair covering the head portion and the hoodie the rest. On the next look, her hair was totally obscuring her face, making it just the hoodie and the hair visible. Regular readers will know that attractive blonde women are utilized for their "auric goodness", as the seeming gold standard of acceptability but usually in context with some Unfavored demographic group element; big hats, big guts, curly hair, the color of brown, etc. and of course, hoodies. Another related placement of blondes is at new locations where I will or have frequented, say at the car dealership job site. Last year, in the first three days of farm work there was an attractive blonde woman on the bulb p[icking crew, never to return again.

Yesterday when I got off the bus downtown after a day picking berries there was a three wide dude array, all of them wearing the same uniform with big belts and holsters for communication gear. Just what this dude strut was all about I will never know; if they were private security they shouldn't have been on the streets. Just plain strange, except for the gangstalker scenario. These dude flushes have been prominent of late, never have I seen so many "dude pals".

Another short post and on with the early evenings so to get sufficient sleep for the early start.

Friday, June 26, 2009

A Question

No true blog posting today after doing two jobs, and the tiredness is catching up. As it "so happens", the car dealership cleaning job will be over by the end of July. We contractors are being replaced by an employee, a reverse of the typical contracting out, say, "staffing in" maybe. The managed mind-fuck "response" it that this is a blessing in disguise, and being blase. The perps can make one accept nearly any slings and arrows, and this job, albeit part time, kept the wolf from the door for the past 7 months, so I am a little pissed that I don't have this option come September.

But the real question is, how do I manage my Firefox Bookmarks to send a subset of them to someone via email, probably as an HTML file? In other words, I would like a folder specific export & append. The entire Bookmarks file is over 24Mb, huge, and is a pain to deal with if manually editing. Any experts out there? The iMacros add-on looks promising but I cannot find a route to what I want. This should be simple, but it isn't. Naturally, the noisestalking has increased while contemplating the macro route, but I would really like something canned. And I am not sure the full set of pre-packaged macros is there.

Thanks in advance

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Recovery Day

A busy day doing many sabotage recovery activities. More laundering after yesterday's mud fest, a new wallet after it somehow "self destructing" in the buttoned down pocket of my work pants and retrieving my hiking boots from my parent's place after the extant pair also "self destructed" (repaired 3x in last 5 years), obtaining more coins for daily bus riding. Other action was yoga, always a positive activity, and then an "inspection" by the rent subsidy people to make sure all was copesthetic. It was, and I might be able to get an increase in the subsidy to match the rent increases. But, the subsidy isn't availible any more, so I should not move as it will be deemed a new application. Another gotcha, but I am used to that, because it is the norm in this managed adversity called Life Rape, aka, nonconsensual human experimentation down to the level of even knowing the alphabet or numbers. The latter seems to be of greater interest, my mother going on about having enough $2 coins for the bus usage when in fact I had purchased a roll of $2 coins earlier in the day. Another "happened to mention it" stunt/scripted vignette, of increasing frequency of late. Two days ago it was the mention of "duct tape" at each job site by disparate parties that was the "happenchance" word of the day.

A short post as I will be getting myself off to bed early to accomodate the early start to the day. That is to say, I will be berry picking tomorrow, my "dig out from my line of credit" job for the summer. I got some extra sleep in this morning, but not enough for the errand load. Though to be fair, I actually did succeed in getting them all done. I even pre-ordered the Windows 7 Upgrade for $65CAD at Amazon.ca when London Drugs blew me off when I was there in person. He claimed it wasn't availible and won't be until October, and went on and on, and wouldn't look up my suggested source of the information on the web connected PC he was browsing. The "don't listen to me" act; been there thousands of times, and it should not be arranged any more if the perp asshole had any fucking sense of proportion as to the abuse they have pounded me with in the last seven years of overt fuckery, not to mention a prior 47 years of covert fuckery. Fucking insane I get to have their shills rail on when they are absolutely full of it, and know it. Thats LD for you, abetting to the level of being a first order quisling. If I had a vehicle I wouldn't shop there any more after tonight's jerkaround.

Onto getting prepared for tomorrow; I am cracking the hazelnuts and soaking them in water overnight which seems to add certain qualities of being more filling, assuming I am not getting jerked with.

At the berry picking job site a new "get close" fuckaround behavior has erupted; "ass stalking". That means the sicko shill/tgangstalker takes an opportunity to swing or plant their ass as close to my head as possible, usually in compromised seating arrangements, say in the pickup box. One Punjabi, and a native Indian couple did this in various guises, the latter two being particularly rude in sitting on the picnic table top when a bench seat was there, and planting their fucking sit bones 18" away from me, backs toward me. The woman was first, and the dude lined himself up behind her, the "hide the Unfavored Fuckwit" stunt. When said dude was duly "ready" (however the perps define that, he plants his fucking ass on the table top beside my lunch, now both of them backed up to me. I got up and went elsewhere. Fucking rude, and fucking sick that this was engineered by the Life Rapists as yet another pathetic arrangement for them to decode their brown color problem at my expense.

Yesterday, in the pouring rain, the berry picking was suspended, and we hustled the berries into the boxes and then into the cooler, even if soaking wet. I was working with a native Indian and a Mexican, and they both seemed to know what to do in the way of augmenting to arrange skin touches while hefting stacked boxes in and out of the pickup. Endless permutations of the perp's brown color games, a constant theme since the initial barrage of their "coming out" in the apartment attack in 04-15-2002 in Seattle. Then, the brown plasma flash would cause me to collapse to the ground. They pulled this off a week later when I was driving; a brown plasma flash bounced off my glasses and I was sliding down the seat, past the seatbelts until they zapped me out of it so I could recover. The vehicle beside me with four dudes at 0500h on the I-5 north of Seattle might have had something to do with it, but they weren't looking at me when they passed by. Enough troving past fuckery and the ongoing perp's brown color fuckery, and onto bed.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Picking in the Rain

And of course I "forgot" to look at the forecast and pack my rain gear today. Pouring much of the time, and the strawberry picking was suspended at 1000h. Then onto some 6 acres of weed picking along the poly covered rows where the strawberry plants from holes. Plenty of polyethylene contact for the perps it would seem. Forty minutes of putzing with garbage bags at the cleaning job isn't enough contact time with this substance, and pollutant. Seemingly, pollutants such a this give the perps no end of problems, in their remote magnetic energy field immersion games. (Me, in the densified EMF field, recently measured and pictured a few weeks ago, over 2,000 gauss). The perps tell me that many of these pollutants have unexpected quantum behavior, and that is why they need to parade PVC pipe bearing vehicles around me all the time. Ask me if I care, and nor do I have any information as to how they are dealing with the problem; cleaning up my internal pollutants, or attempting to get a handle on their quantum behaviors.

And also, the perps would like to be able to model soil contact and minor uptake through one's skin. Last year they would puncture the glove finger tips while on the conveyor sort line. Today's weed pulling was by hand, but I happened to have protective gloves, so there was relatively little direct soil contact and absorption. All very exciting stuff for a perp sicko.

I just got sabotaged writing an email to my berry picker pals. The perps have foiled the Select, Copy, Paste action, and I cannot copy URL's for them. Fucking beserk bullshit. Now they are nailing me with mouse control slowdown, where the mouse isn't reacting as it should. And too, I am being kept in a tired and barely awake state. Perhaps that is my hint to post this.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Dog Bark Moment

A busy two days working two jobs, and then going online. Picking strawberries for 9.5 hours is getting less backbreaking than it was. Presently the sickos are fucking with the mouse, so I may not blog for much, despite the panalopy of gangstalking and harassment insanity they are plying me with.

The dog from nowhere, (none in this neighborhood) barked as I opened up this posting. I am also getting plenty of white plasma flashes in front of this LCD display as I type, and I have already screamed at the assholes at least four times so far. The flash, for a half second or so, is shaped like an 8" diameter iris, except in white and grey shadow, not colored.

I got screwed into thinking I would get a certain earlier bus after the picking job, but lo, if the Punjabi crew members didn't need to change and that took long enough that we missed the bus by a few minutes, and then 30 minutes of wait time with nonstop vehicular gangstalking traffic with my Punjabi "buddies" not far from me. An like yesterday, an surge of 15 or so, an huge number of bus passengers for an industrial park in the rural regions, arrived all around me, one even being a "fellow traveller" and getting off at the same bus stop as I did. The fucking asshole looks at me as if I were following him for crissakes. Bizarre.

And my shoe got sabotaged within the last hour in the strawberry patch; the sikos stripped half the right side sole off so there was plenty of flopping action and I had to walk in this hobbled form at a much slower pace to accomodate this fucking shoe games the perps dreamed up. Been there, done that. Enough of this insanity and get your asses in my face and tell me why I am not allowed to own shoes that have been repaired three times in five years for the same "problem". Last time, the cobbler begged off and said that he wouldn't be able to fix them anymore. Horsefeathers, it is the same problem; the rubber sole just "pops off" and the assholes tie my shoes up for a week or so.

I told the forman that I would have to take a day off to retrieve my hiking boots from my parent's place, and he put on the show that he really, really, needs me, and that it would be a shame to lose a day's pay over the (sabotaged) shoe, and perhaps I could fix it tonight. I said I would attempt to do so, and lo, if there wasn't Shoo Goo at the local LC store tonight, and enough tools and clamps to clean it up and make another attempt to repair the shoe. So I glued it up, but the instructions say that it reaches maximum strength in 72 hours, and I am sure that will be exploited when I wear them with some 10 hours of glue set time. I was also offered some gumboots and that maybe the real plan for tomorrow. The perps' obsession over rubber and all associated products is getting to fever pitch of late. At the part time car dealership cleaning job tonight I notice they brought in more stacks of tires, unsold ones, at least five stacks of four kinds. Some of the tire stacks have been there for a few weeks, so it would seem their rubber material fixation is getting extra intense of late.

Much typo and mouse sabotage tonight; therefore no further posting tonight, nor response comments. And I am too wiped from a day in the sun, picking strawberries. This is a huge start to red dressed gangstalkers afterward, and even one blonde babe "showed up" at the car dealership cleaning job after the boss man departed and strangely left the unattended garage door open. Said blonde babe claimed she washes cars as a staff member, the first I have even heard there was such a job there. She was in a red T-shirt and was carrying a green Nalgene water bottle. It sure beats read and green plasma games, such eye candy.

And plenty of "strawberry stalkers", ones wearing the same red and orange red as strawberries, just like two days ago. Time to get some lunch ready and send this one off.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Strawberry People

A very short posting tonight as I am whacked out from strawberry picking all day, and then a city bus trip back into downtown where there was two gangstalkers with strawberry like clothing colors; one sat behind the driver and the other was outside on a bicycle, sticking near the bus to get some kind of inside-outside the bus color testing. The one on board even had a soft reflective sheen to her down coat, like a real strawberry.

And this followed from a pre-arranged fuckup; my mother was to pick me up at 1630h, normal quitting time, but "as it so happened" the foreman shut down the job 45 min. early for no apparent reason. What to do for 45 min.? Why, accept an offer from a couple who are residing in an RV on the farm site, and have a beer with them and exchange conpiracy theories, books of like interest and documentaries of recent public interest. This is the couple where the male has extra long straggly blonde hair, but is very personable and interesting to talk to. The lent me a book, and I am due to lend them one of mine tomorrow. Anyhow, I am sure there were a host of perp objectives in all of this personable interaction, a relative first in many years. In order, likely perp interests were: having me change out of my wet pants into my blue jeans while in the RV, sit next to the native Indian who also shared out conspiratorial take on world history, have a beer while famished, have the woman play with her boyfriend's straggly hair and tie it into a short ponytail (reducing the face-on profile of his hair, something the perps like to do), exchanging pieces of paper with our respective handwriting on them, and having one's shoes off on-site. All fascinating event for the perps, given their research predilections that have incorporated these elements in many past gangstalkings and harassment events.

Then a round of fuckery unfolded when walking back to the road where my mother was to be at 1630h. The farm owner told her we all left and weren't around. So, she is gone when I get to the road, and then by dint of borrowing the phone pages and the phone, I left a message at my brother's place where we were headed after pick up. This confusion/FUD seeded plenty of angst for a few minutes, and lo, if my mother didn't pull up as I was about to wait for 30 minutes or so. She said she drove down to the bus stop to see if I was there, then came back. Later in the evening, I checked the phone messages and she made the call from her place. More fucking pointless games.

Then when driving, she says that dinner at my in-town brother was cancelled, and that we would go back to her place. OK, another change in plan, but I am used to this. The trip back was Royal Gangstalking with vehicles parked all over, and surging around me, often in clusters of the same colors, four at a time. I will spare the details, but it was about the most concentrated effort yet, though for the most part, the vehicles were parked in files and clusters, often on the front lawn and packed into the driveway, all to get the color cluster configuration then wanted at each location. And yes, there was lots of red, and of course, strawberry red too. Part of the driving route had hosted a triathalong earlier in the day, and I suspect this might of fed the perp plans as well.

Enough for tonight, I am bagged and off to bed.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Strawberry Fields For Now

Holding down two jobs is getting tired after the first day. First, strawberry picking for 7.5 hours plus 30 min. bus commute in each direction. And that was a short day. They have a crew of six Mexicans on a work visas, and they go for 10 hour days. Me, I copped out early to get back to downtown so I could assemble myself for the part time cleaning job at the car dealership. I do feel wiped out, but not totally. Good for another day unless I sieze up in the morning. That's 0500h to get the 0610h bus.

I had my posse around me today; they are heavy on placing male skinheads in my peripherial vision, and have also started up on their turban fixation. One in each direction no less; the first was a pseudo farmworker who wandered off and wasn't seen again, never to pick a single berry. And after getting red dyed fingers, and looking at strawberries all day, why, should it been a surprise to have the bus packed to the rafters with at least a 30% red clothing rate. And that would include another E. Indian party; two women wearing pink, and the turbaned male, seeming much like the one in the morning.

These blogs won't be long this summer unless I resort to the do-squat schedule, putzing around all day and then doing the 1.5 hour cleaning job. It is hard to say what the sickos have me lined up for; continuing farm labor or the layabout life they had scripted since 09-2008.

On the positive side the pickers, seemed personable people, unlike last year's daffodil bulb pickers. And there was a good string of pleasant nattering going, me included. There was the usual lunch and break time dispersion, all except for one E. Indian young male, in IT no less, out berry picking. We had some chats, but the breaks were too short to make much conversational headway.

The return bus trip was a holy gangstalking event; the bus was full and I had to stand, but they lined the highway bypass roads with countless greyscale color vehicles, even being so obvious as stringing five black vehicles together in one parked file. I had my freakshow all ready on board; fugly red hair dye job, skinheaded male, wheelchair case, fat ones, turban as mentioned and the rest of the red show. I reckon the gangstalk vehicle event was at least 2,000 when inbound in the afternoon. And not just vehicles, but at least five boats were trailered by as I was waiting for the bus. Funny how all the back road farm traffic erupted Saturday afternoon.

And a major jerkaround over laundering my clothes after berry picking. The assholes forced a "forget" to remove my wallet from my work pants, and so it too got laundered. More like trashed with cards and cash surviving. The button on the pocket flap was still buttoned down when I found the wallet laundering mess, so "somehow" it got out of a snap buttoned flap pocket. Amazing, not even trying to make it look like laundering caused the snap button to dislodge. Regular readers and TI's will know the perps are totally beserk about my wallet contents; color of bills, their order and orientation as well as the plastic card placement, especially if it has a magnetic stripe. My cardboard US Social Security Card also survived with frayed edges, the number still intact. Go figure, when it was freely being laundered.

Enough for tonight, as I am bushed so to speak, and want to get another day of picking red berries tomorrow.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Weather Games

It is most odd that I was ready to work in the farm fields this morning and that the rain came on before deciding to call it off. Funny how I had intended to retrieve my rain gear from my parent's place and "forgot". As in, it never happened before, all these timely "forgets" and so why now? And while up at 0500h makes for an interesting perp variance, something they crave in controlled and managed amounts, I am sure that having much of my gear readied for a berry picking day (not stored) is also part of it. And maybe tomorrow I will get to toil in the fields. A pissoff to be sure, getting ready to start work and then sandbagged at the gate by more orchestrated fuckups, that only a malevolent Fuckwit could dream up.

And owing to this rare Fuckover event, all ready to go save the rain gear, the assholes duly got me rage-ifed at 0500h by sending me to the wrong drawer or cupboard at least three times, also a case of never-before behavior. I never forget the location of anything in the kitchen after the first day of move-in, and here we are, over two years later, it "somehow" keeps happening, especially for one-off days, like today, weather fucked at 0500h.

Back after retrieving said rain gear, and I see that there is rain for three more days, a 30% chance eah day. Enough to scare me into packing it to the berry picking job. That the raingear is in dayglo orange with reflector material on it is likely a bonus, given the preponderence of this color (constructive matter-wave interference, per J K Harms) among the gangstalker populations. I see they had extra roadworks on today when on the city bus, perhaps it was about the seeing more dayglo colors.

An earlier forced near-sleeping state in my seat and then a 40 minute nap afterward, and this strange zoned-out sensation afterward. That was the lead-up to dinner, and then it was onto the part time cleaning job at the car dealership. I have never seen anything quite like it before, but in the harassment business (as victim), there is always a first time. One of the putative male Sales staff was leaning against the wall in the hallway, some 40' distant, and stayed there in this state of apparent intense languor as I walked toward him and then past him to get to the broom closet to start my cleaning. I had to retrace some of my steps with the vaccum cleaner in hand, and here he was at least motivated in having backed up to be closer to the exit hallway I would take, and now leaning on the other side of the hallway as when I walked behind him. This dude has the most strangest and slovenly postures, and doesn't mind everyone knowing about it, as these weren't the first. He also ill-disposed to move out of his seat at the front door when I am vacuuming there. Any kind of social pleasantries aren't permitted either, as this dude has been assigned a supercilious persona and makes sure I know about it. Anyhow, it is most odd that all these behavioral irregularities erupt around me, totally unbidden.

I did 2.5 hours of garden maintenance at my parent's place earlier. Regular readers will know that the perps get no end of mileage out of "foliage stalking", be it lawn cutting, hedge trimming, plant pruning and general garden maintenance. It seemed that the Asian contingent was a high gangstalker race priority today. I was working at the front yard and there were an inordinant number (6 parties) of them walking or cycling by, up to and including me backing the vehicle out of the driveway. There was the usual aircraft noise that ramped up, and the even of me digging out a blackberry bush and placing it on the concrete driveway was a highly noisestalked event; motorcycle noise, aircraft and a vehicle roaring past. I was driven to the bus stop to take it back into downtown, replete with another round of the freakshow of the Unfavored.

The outbound city bus freakshow started with two loopy gangstalkers and one normal one at the bus stop. I got the "man from Glad" white hairdo dude in the seat in front of me, and he got off in five stops to then have a thuggy dude in shades and holding a coffee in front of him as the Coffee Corps replacement. And the pong that came off this latter dude was the BO from a bender the night before, seething from his pores even if he looked presentable. Maybe he was the reference gangstalker, wearing a black T-shirt, much like mine under my blue fleece pullover. Anyhow, on the other side of the aisle there was a changing freakshow; one dark haired fat woman in shades was replaced in the same seat by another fat woman of the same height and comportment but in different colored hair and clothes within a few minutes of the first one getting off. I couldn't be sure it was the same woman, but it is exceptionally rare to see someone of the identical size, shape and comportment in the same day, let alone within minutes on the same bus trip and same seat. I had a red haired male gangstalker on the bus, and lo, if he didn't want off at the same stop as me, and lo, if the sidewalks weren't half littered with orange red colored Douglas-fir pollen cone husks, very much like his hair color. All to keep me color referenced between his hair and the new locale, the street rather than on the bus it would seem.

Picture time, the last of a recent upload.

Taken 06-12-2009, 0855h, 37sec. And even in surburbia one isn't free from vehicle color arrangements. Three houses in a row, and all have the same deep metallic red colored vehicle color in their driveways. These are two houses away from my parent's place and are on my 3 minute walk from the bus stop to their place.

Taken 06-12-2009, 0856h, 47sec. The swooping skateboarder also erupts in suburbia as I was about to take a turn into my parent's driveway. Not only on the very familiar perp prop, the skateboard, but also on "paper packing" duty, gangstalkers with papers in their hands and usually erupt soon after I egress into public space. Five vehicles are in view, and two are the identical red to those pictured below, only 150' away. One red vehicle is on each side of the road that the skateboarder will pass between.

Taken 06-16-2009, 1225h, 19sec. Apart from the lead Vespa scooter in turquoise (rider in red jacket), find me a vehicle that isn't silver-grey or red. And tell me how there would be three red stopped vehicles in file on the street facing the camera, except by orchestration. And let's not forget the wheelchair act with red hat, the gut strut on the left, and one normal dude in front.

Taken 06-16-2009, 1227h, 43sec. Eating and driving; a near everytime event of late. And having a string of four grey vehicles parked in file isn't enough; one must test for distance dependent interaction by running another silver-grey vehicle in front of the parked file, seen in full below. The very tail of the passing pickup on the left looks to be black, but there is an odd amount of reflectivity off the vehicles that are supposedly evenly lit on a clouded day.

Taken 06-16-2009, 1227h, 46sec. An nice string of greyscale colors parked in file; on the left a white Volvo, two silver-greys, one mid-grey and back to silver-grey at the end of the file. As best as I can count when zoomed in (double click on picture) there are 28 vehicles in the picture, and most are in greyscale colors (white, silver grey (predominating all over as well as in the foreground in the parked file), mid-greys and black), with some reds (5) and one of yellow and blue. Maybe one silver-grey is a little on the light brown coloration. How in the fuck could this be anything but arranged?

Some good material on workplace bullying, seeming to be only one locale of harassment abuse at this link, Workplace Bullying. And a recent award by someone who convinced the judge of its legitimacy at this subordinate link; Helen Green Wins Court Victory - UK, awarded $1.5 million. And she got her legal fees paid, "beginning with an interim payment of $650,000". And rightly so, this is organized harassment courtesy of Deutsche Bank, and only at her work. I deal with organized harassment all the time, and not only during work hours. She was there for four years, say $1.5 million/4 = $400,000 per year roughly. Not good enough IMHO, but a decent start in having employer's organized harassment made publicly known and bringing this to the public eye. And the deal I don't yet know is, did the Deutsche Bank overtly orchestrate to harass this person in their work, or was it via mind fuck of the various players? Or both? Thanks to Gangstalking World for this one; read the whole posting as the perps won't let me due to dynamically applied dithering of my reading.

Time to call this one done and go through the early morning routine to start work as a berry picker. Who knew that this would be high excitement for the shadow clowns? All those fruit juices on my fingers is indeed the stuff of perp insanity.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Blue on Blue Flashes

Stupider and stupider seems to be the order of the day, or as my tormentors would likely say, more nuanced harassment/experimentation. After a grievious delay and ignore-me customer service at the co-op, and the dude flush (one ahead, one behind, the overalls act the latter), I get outside on the street and end up behind two large women, one dressed in a blue top, and then a blue flash came from her direction. I have another look, and the assholes had arranged a mid-grey police van some 60' ahead, crossing past with its blue (only) lights flashing, doing the emergency thing again.

This lasted only a second or two, but it would seem the assholes wanted to get me fresh out of the store. And as I had purchased two stainless steel water bottles, objects of much future portent, they must of really wanted all that planning to go into one second's worth of blue garment and blue flash combination. This is only one example as to how fucking insane the perps have become of late.

The acquisition of the water bottles suggests that there are plans ahead to have me work outside again this summer, as water (or other beverage) intake, and the nature/color of the supply bottle, pipe or other source is a big deal for the assholes, as it seems they cannot yet model intake to later digestive effects (energetics). Or more likely, they cannot yet do this remotely, so they must fuck me around for another few years until they can. They have been allowing me to take in water colored with concentrated juice in the past week, red no less, so their ambitions have evolved from just tap water alone. Last year they had me use a blue polycarbonate water bottle, now banned in this country as it is a source of bisphenol A. So it would seem that last year was a bisphenol A test, and this year will be a stainless steel container test. I can hardly wait.

A Thursday yoga day, and this time they didn't fuck me out of going like last week which pissed me off. I had my usual street detritus/dudes gangstalking me there and back, and it seems they are cranking up the male skinheads more of late. If I don't like seeing bald heads, why is it that I am chased all over town with them? Same for fucking tattoos, which are getting bigger of late, or at least, as portrayed by the selected Fuckwit gangstalkers.

Another siren cascade as I composed the above paragraph; at least the fifth one today.

The perps had me sweating heavily while at yoga, even if it is tamed down because of the hot weather. The usual building pounding "workers" at the beginning of the class, along with outside yelling and later the train of freeway like road traffic, loud mufflered vehicle, motorcycles and heavy duty vehicles. Same as this apartment, even if six stories up. And plenty of red plasma games at first; 1' to 3' red splotches over the green carpet, and other beams coursing around the room. I see they roughed up the carpet around my mat, giving the carpet a pilled look which suddenly erupted since I was last there two weeks ago. And they also did some brown testing in an unusual way; they put a splotch of brown plasma over the chest of one of the women regulars, as if she had a garment on as it wasn't skin colored (in my peripherai vision). Next time I look she never did have a brown garment on, the assholes masked her normal Caucasian skin tone with their ersatz plasma version of brown color. And they also parked at least one similar brown colored vehicle in the parking lot behind me, visible through translucent glass. Then it lasted a few minutes, and later when it was time to go, a mid-grey vehicle parked in the same place for no fucking reason except to gangstalk me as I came through the doors to see the vehicle directly. Arranging a fuzzy brown appearing vehicle through translucent glass must be some kind of introductory method of having me see brown colors in a controlled or managed state. Again, if I don't like fucking brown colors, why do I have a phalanx of gutless Fuckwits chasing me all over with these colors? Why can't they get this over with by coming out of the closet?

And these same fugly skintone or puke brown tones were showing up tonight when I was transiting from the part time car dealership cleaning job back to my place, stopping in at the LD store as well. At least a third of the gangstalkers, some five or so, were wearing this fucking ugly puke brown color. Then the long haired blonde dude with the fedora was dogging me; outside LD, then at two locations in the checkout area, his first, then mine, and again when outside. Worse yet, the asshole didn't have a chin to make himself look even more Unfavored. Another example of what the assholes are up to; before all this started I might have seen a person twice in or just outside a store; now they cover me from the parking lot, to at least two locations inside and then outside. It is fucking infuriating to be stalked like this.

At the car dealership the blonde saleswoman was on posing duty dressed in white pants and a red top, making sure to be seen each time I opened the door, or looked out, or was on cleaning duty in Sales. But she must also be acting as some kind of "psychic bait" as the skinheaded male from yesterday's 5x gangstalking pursuit, was also loitering around the aforementioned blonde woman. I call this "blonde aura association", having an Unfavored (male, skinhead) hang with a Favored (attractive, blonde woman).

Taken 06-13-2009; this series of three isn't terribly incriminating for arguing about orchestration, unless all the photos of past parking adventures are put together. My rule of thumb is that three vehicles of the same color together represents configuration, where two together could be "fluke", assuming that concept even exists in my containment bubble.

A zoom in, a silver-grey vehicle behind the tree again; haven't we seen this before?

Moving to the right; a man and his dog at the bus stop. And did anyone ever tell him that dogs on a leash are not allowed on the bus? And too, the wide brimmed Tilley (or like) hat. The perps have me totally jangled ever time I see one, so there must be some kind of traumatization emulation stunt going on.

Taken 06-15-2009, one block after getting of the bus. And do we have enough fugly orange in this picture? The copper-orange vehicle colors are getting plenty of action of late, and often are arranged with red colors, e.g. the vehicle on the left. Having a silver-grey vehicle in the show seems to be mandatory for the perps color games. I have a highly illustrative picture of that tomorrow.

I am off to do berry picking tomorrow, starting a job for the summer, assuming I last. Presently, they are picking strawberries and so I will be getting plenty of red color contact for the perps to play yet more dumbshit games. If this gig lasts the summer, I will be exposed to a number of different color of fruits at this one orchard. And these postings will become more sparse as the sickos like to play up the tiredness angle as well. I just may get to pay off my line of credit this year, and too, there is less chocolate consumption as I don't take any with me as it gets too hot for it.

I got a tip from the local TI to look up "radionics". And lo, if it doesn't line up with the perps' beserk insanity. Attempting to heal someone from afar with the aid of a hair or a blood sample or even their signature. And it is true that the assholes noisestalk me (or other fuckery) at the moment I sign something, so perhaps these "biophysical energy fields" do exist, and that they also do a decent job of repressing any valid research. As well as enjoining the chorus of detractors and quite possible arranging the experiments seeking proof to fail. And this might also explain why the perps chase me with a septic services tanker truck every two months or so, often "arriving" at street corners or driving by in the evening. And I am quite sure just who's shit is they are packing. And this might also explain why they like to visit the septic services pipes in the street when I came back from a week away last year. (And they did script me for a shit within the first hour of getting back). Hmmm, nothing provable, but certainly interesting.

More radionics sites; a big mystery has finally being solved; the methods of the perps are entirely consistent with this body of work. radionics.org

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Motivational Sapping

Another insidious trait of this imposed state is to get pumped up about getting on with something, even making a phone call, and then getting situational demotivation applied to one, often for months at a time. I had two things to do; get new water bottles for my pack, and take said pack to a shop to get some kind of customization to keep the water bottles in the two outside pockets. I know where to go for both, but got sandbagged this morning, and then later this afternoon.

It was after lunch they put me through some sleeping while seated in fron of this LCD display, also playing a similar stunt. They would plant the notion to go to another web page and then make me too sleepy to do so, waking me up to then move onto something else. This occured twice in succession, and it would seem to be about testing me over intention, and then sabotaging that very event.

I suppose the big perp excitement earlier was doing laundry, washing bed linens and two towels. Both are of intense interest, and all the better for them that they are in the same laundry load. And keeping me here with the bedsheets pulled off, and then again when back on, is great stuff for a Secret Sicko, the SS.

Anyhow, just another day in the Potemkin Bubble, less than a Village by far.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 04sec. Three silver-grey vehicles are parked in file, one behind the tree and a red pickup truck at the end of the parked vehicles. A red vehicle waiting at the traffic control is just in front of the tree in the adjacent lane. And two more red vehicles, on the street on left, leading from foreground to background and three silver grey vehicles behind them if one zooms in (double click on the photo image). The first is a pickup truck in the sun, and the second is a sedan behind it in the shade. On the right side of the street on the left are are more of a mixture, red, silver grey, black, a mid-grey and a light metallic blue color. Out of 16 vehicles in this picture, 7 are silver grey, 5 are red, 3 are other greyscale colors (white, mid-grey and black), and one is a light metallic blue. And how can some schmuck on a disability income arrange this?

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 11sec. A camera zoom-in of the above, the last most parked vehicle, the pickup is doing foliage packing duty, bring fresh cut foliage, grass in this case, for it to be proximate to me.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 16sec. SAme deal as immediately above, but an additional same, or similar, red vehicle, now at three reds and three silver-greys. The driver's windows seem to be extra and oddly reflective for being in the shade IMHO.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 24sec. The light has changed and the second red vehicle above has progressed to the left, partially in the frame.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 33sec. A little later, a silver-grey pickup with a same colored canopy passes through the intersection, seen left most. A "ladder-mobile" vehicle is in the lower left, a common gangstalk configuration.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 37sec. And we cannot leave cyclists out so we put a redcoat one into the gangstalker show, in front of the lead parked silver-grey vehicle.

Taken 06-12-2009, 1745h 41sec. And lo, another silver grey vehicle, this one passing behind the tree, and the tail end of an additonal mobile red vehicle on the right. The last of this series, and sometimes the show gets so stupid I just pack it up and go back into my apartment.

I have other pictures I will show over the next few days, reserving picture content of these blog postings in other words. Some near-shut-in days are so dull there aren't any diversions such as the above arranged gangstalk road traffic.

What the fuck is going on? I just had a blog entry deleted, and I was complaining that the perps deleted most of my pictures from last year. All 2008 harassment related photos were deleted when they were backed up. They deleted the source, and then the backup file. None of them are in the Windows Recycle which means somebody had priveleges on this compute to bypass it. I don't know how to, even if I did inadvertently delete them, which I didn't. And especially not twice, as they had been copied then.

The typo sabotage is getting brutal, and I just finished another round of screaming at the assholes. That was on top of screaming at them earlier for the above mentioned picture deletions, and after that, fucking with my finger control to graps items. And another round of typo sabotage to then beget more screaming at the fucking assholes. Enogh beserk shit tonight.

More screaming at the assholes for sabotage on composing a document. One is never allowed to finish anything as long as there is more time to fuck with it. Perp Rule #1. And as it so happens, the person I was to see tomorrow about training grant grovelling has postponed the meeting for two weeks. He still wants it on a Thursday, post yoga though. Maybe there are some important Fuckover developments, though as always, I would be the last to know.

At the part time cleaning job at the car dealership tonight, it was the skinheaded male Sales staff member's job to keep hounding me, a la gangstalking, "happening" to be in place around corners, retracing my steps, passing the stairs at I am coming down them, etc. This guy had been absent for at least three weeks, so I imagine today was a big "intro" day, or re-introduction to his form. If I don't like fucking skinheaded males (which is the way the perps keep me, as it wasn't the case before), as in bare headed shiny pates, then why am I hounded over this, now over seven years long? Not my problem.

Two rounds of screaming sirens while I listen/watch to the first video in at least four months. No actual associated noise of vehicles, just the sirens. Now a third round of sirens to "accompany" headphone (containing magnets, note) over my ears.

Listening to Dr. Joseph Farrell on video, 1h 47min., a researcher of Nazi physics and practices. He mentions their ideological culture of promoting new avenues of physics research. He mentions a Nazi researcher who declares counter rotational spin as being the source of all earth energy. Have I not mentioned contraconcentric turning vehicles as a standard perp practice in my proximity? And four black flecks of lint of no ostensible source arrived around my crotch. Foreign objects from foreign operatives.

Enough abuse tonight.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Early Noise Assault

The noise barrage started early this morning, before getting up at 0630h. Once up, I looked out for road traffic, and for the most part there was none. Not even the trucks and buses that made up for the apparent noise sources. The sickos had me especially cranked up about it, and then kept up the annoyances while making and eating breakfast. The usual stunts; faked noise of no ostensible cause, pulling the peanut butter off the knife, imposed finger fumbling, pulling items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong drawer or item, flicking water from no apparent source and the like. Only forty rage-ifications worth before heading to the bathroom for the shower, shave and dental hygiene routine, whereupon another twenty rage-fications were inflicted. The most gratuitous was whacking me in the dick with no apparent source. Typically, towel drying is used as an excuse to whack me, but I am now allowed to habitually control the loose end of the towel in daily anticipation of this insane stunt, and today was the same; the towel wasn't even applied in that particular region, wasn't even in motion, and then today, some unseen force field whacked me in the dick. Just like the towel games of years back. And the new razor blade today was allowed to cut cleanly, not always the case. But given the amount of perp interest in shaving every day, and the increasing abuse each day while this activity progresses, I was not surprised to see some 15 or so bleeding "cuts" on my torso, part of the shaving regimen. These are inflicted lesions, usually ovoid in shape, and erupt a few minutes after shaving and without any apparent source. They are not shaving cuts, as no pain or sensation occured when the razor was passing over, and are not the shape of a razor nick. And, it is nearly impossible to cut oneself with a modern day safety razor, and I am doing nothing odd to cause it to "happen". I suspect there are a few aims involved in this 5x weekly bloodletting; bringing various different blood sources to the skin surface; deep red unoxygenated blood and bright red blood side by side from the inflicted surficial lesions just doesn't compute. The second objective is probably the study of the trace absorption of the stypic pencil content, (anhydrous aluminum sulfate), how I staunch the blood lesions each time. And it has been noted in past blog postings that the sickos can prevent the stypic pencil from acting if they want, say, a 20 minute bloodletting to continue unabated, save applying pressure to the wound. (I have had spontaneous late evening time blood surges from a pore in my nose (no shaving association), whereby the blood is arranged to be exactly in my peripherial vision, and a stypic pencil will not work for some reason, only consistently applied pressure after some 20 minutes). Anyhow, perhaps this is all a warm up before I walk the gangstalker gauntlet into downtown, a whole two blocks, and deposit my paycheck as well as get more quarters for the laundry machine. Regular readers will know that financial transactions of any kind, including loading said quarters in the laundry machines, will be noisestalked, gangstalked or otherwise perturbed for some arcane but relentless benefit for the sickos. Just another morning in fucking living hell.

I did the gangstalk gauntlet; the usual freakshow and then the dayglo shirted woman holding the coffee cup in front of her, (aka, Coffee Corps member) inserted herself 10' in front of me just when the dayglo orange spots on the sidewalk started, about every 5' to 10' or so, for some 60' of sidewalk. That is, until I walked past her and then had the dudes' obstacle course, all five with turned backs and presenting a circituitous path to get past as they had staggered themselves across the 8' of sidewalk, all outside the bus shelter, and seemingly waiting for the bus. I got to the teller with the blue streak in her black hair, and then some matching blue on her clothing, and got my rolls of coins and deposited the paycheck. The Hispanic or Asian gangstalking male seems to be featured more often of late, and having one arrive at the next bank teller seems to replicate my experiences of yesterday on the city bus freakshow. No big deal, and I was out of the bank fast enough to witness "camping season" parked at the yellow line at the adjacent and busiest pedestrain intersections, Fort and Douglas streets. Then another 20' camper joined it in the adjacent traffic lane to be in place when the pedestrian traffic control changed for me and and my accumulated gangstalkers to pass in front of both of them. I had a mid-block attractive blonde woman gangstalker, and then the freaks (Unfavored demographic group members), filed in behind her; the dayglo dressed, the arm flinging males, the skinhead males, the vagrant males, big hats, careening walkers and a few others. Then a male blue gut (shirt) strut where I made the corner, also on Coffee Corps duty, and it was the full meal deal; freakshow a la carte. And while waiting at last pedestrian crossing on my way back, another MIB holding coffee cup in hand (again), who arrived soundlessly behind me, an increasing trait these days. For one of the few times in three years I didn't have a Monday shit (yesterday), so that might explain why the assholes were so heavy on the brown coffee packing this morning. One never quite knows for sure as they are working so many simultaneous themes. I wonder if their gangtalkers are "shit coordinated", as in having bowel movements coordinated with mine? And too, maybe their food intake.

And part of the fuckery is to make sure that I am extra reactive, as in mind-controlled "response" to the freaks, especially male skinheads of late. They are working this theme assiduously of late; not only the shiny pate style, but also moderated with 1/4" buzzcut to give the same head shape a softer reflection and coarser reflection lines. I had a three times reprising male skinhead last night when walking back and in the grocery store; as a lead-ahead gangstalker, who then "happens" to meet his vagrant pals in a cluster, and chats to them while I pass by on W. bound directions, and then again in the grocery store, "happening" to pass me by this time on a S. bound direction. The orthogonality of the gangstalking is very important to the sickos, and in the most obvious scenarios the fuckers will circle me if they can. Or else, circle one of their own, such as the bizarre driving stunt of three months ago when one of them circled the other standing in one place in a parking lot with vehicle with an open door at least three times when I was waiting for someone to arrive. This was some 70' away and opposite the apartment building, and was one of the more spectacular pieces of orchestrated public idiocy I have seen to date. They arrived at the parking lot like they were buddies, and one gets in the vehicle and the other doesn't, and stands there for the other to circle him with the vehicle.

Another cock-up with the local TI who I am not sure about. I was to video her taking measurements on her EMF instruments but that plan got changed on me as she was obsessed over getting the images from her IR camera onto a TV and then to videotape. After an hour's tumult there was no cable to port from the IR detection scope to the video recorder. Then some chocolate covered cookies she insisted on before I departed, and lo, if there wasn't yet another heavy gangstalker show, many of them in mid-brown colors, not just the tentative light brown. The latter was the subject of much gangstalking when I had tea with milk in it, which I would of never had on my own, and consequent gangstalking by sickos when I departed. The entire deal seems to be a big gangstalker show after I exit the place.

More pictures from this afternoon's meter readings below. All taken today, 06-16-2009, readings are in milliWatts per m**2. The normal background level should be 7.0, and here we have readings over an order of magnitude higher. Readings of 1996 is close to the maximum on the meter, 2,000, and then the meter seems to get controlled within 20 seconds of so to a normal background level. Something is terribly strange about such high readings, even if supposedly momentary, which I don't think they are. Readings of 1,996 831, 119 are highly anomalous in my expectations, though if someone knows something I don't, let me know. The latter two pictures show the two differing kinds of aerials/sensors that can be mounted on the power density flux meter; the glass and LED tipped (strange too) gigahertz aerial to 2Ghz, and the "tree" aerial which measures Mhz frequencies. The extra arm on the Ghz aerial has a variable slider which can be used to sample specific frequencies.

More recollections from the bank visit this morning. The teller had black hair with a 2" blue streak in it, and bare arms with at least a 100 slash marks on them, healed 1 to 3" healed scars that were parallel, all the way up her forearm to past her elbow. If that wasn't freaky enough, there was a sudden maser/plasma event in front of her that was placed over her scars which acted like anchoring points (lines actually) for the striated maser/plasma beams that were parallel. That is the best I can describe it, as it only lasted a few seconds or so, but it seemed that the astonishing parallel scar lines on both arms were for the purposes of matching to a maser/plasma pattern (striated and parallel) that was expanded beyond her arms to 12" either side of them, covering her front. The blue hair streak was a little odd, but I really didn't think anything of it until I get back to my place and a same blue plasma beam "arrived" in front of my door as I was putting the key in the lock.

Two guitar stalker dudes in the last partial block before I got back to my place. They were seemingly indendent, but there were at least two yesterday in differing gangstalk scenarios, bus and later a vagrant act with a grocery cart. I wonder why all these troubadors are erupting around me? And I see some are now slinging electric guitars in cases instead of acoustic guitars. I wonder why.

Some minor bullshit at the cleaning job tonight; I used the quieter vacuum cleaner to clean some 20' away from the nearest customer and then only for some 20 seconds or so, before shutting it down. The Sales manager came out to say that there was customers everywhere so could I refrain from using it. I complied, as I have been vigilant in the past about how close I should be if vacuuming. Anyhow, the boss man later asks me to dry mop the hallway and I ask him where to sweep it too, as the vacuum cleaner is needed to suck it all up after the moppings have been concentrated in one location. I duly comply, and run the vacuum cleaner for all of 10 seconds to get rid of the moppings and a Salesman is all over me. So, anyhow, it wasn't a big angst issue, but I have to wonder why the boss man set me up to violate the Sales manager's request, which I had told him about. I suspect I will hear more about it tomorrow and the start time for the job might be delayed by 30 minutes, very possibly to catch the sun directly in my face in the W. when I finish up. The perps make no end of this scenario, often placing their Unfavored gangstalkers to be highly backlit so I only make out the merest of features. And perhaps it will facilitate me to do a day job somewhere. We shall see.

The other odd thing going on at the part time cleaning job is that the boss man has long contended it is a 1.5 hour job, and that he resents that the Sales manager wants to only pay for a 1.0 hour job (x2, for 2.0 manhours). But of late, the boss man has been coming for only 45 minutes, which is most strange as why would he purposely work shorter hours if he is attempting the manager he needs to work for longer? Just another oddity along the way, and I suspect it has more to do with the perp's agenda and who they want to gangstalk me with, for how long, where and the rest of the myriad of variables they maintain on my behalf.

I did have one of the staff on me for at least 5x tonight, gangstalking or otherwise preceding me to my next intended location. It is fucking bizarre to have all these assholes knowing where one is going next. Then this bullshit played out again with a gangstalker dude arriving in a vehicle ahead of me by 15' and then leading me into the LD store. I split and looked for other items, and when I went to the Rx counter he was there. He gets his Rx in a minute or so, and then departs for the last time. I cannot get over how many gangstalkers are covering me for sometimes 100's of feet on-street distance and then keep showing up at my destination. It would seem the sickos are looking for some outside to inside (or vice versa) gangstalker continuity. Much like the boss man is batting .950 for "showing up" at the same grocery store after the cleaning job as I am.

Here is a gimme that tells me what the perps are working on, or perhaps have even finished up; If The Shoe Flits, Duck: Real-life Example Of Humans' Dual Vision System. Or more correctly, Threat Assessment is separate from one's vision system. I knew that some time ago as the perps keep working on feigning threat assessment by having their thuggy weirds coming toward me and then turning back for some bizarre reason. Almost all of them aren't looking at me when doing this, but looking past me at absolutely nothing. I predict they will start on the threatening looks before long. A quote from the article;

"There is no way the brain can possibly process and analyze everything we are exposed to. We have to select what is important. In the real world you are on your own and what you pay attention to is part of survival. This experiment shows that threatening stimuli grab your attention, even those we can't consciously identify. That this is more accurate than our conscious perception is pretty amazing."

Well duh; after being hounded for over seven years by beserk assholes with an amoury that is out of Star Wars, one gets very threat sensitive. And if there are the 50 year old putative childhood traumatizations that the assholes couldn't erase entirely until the past year, then the fuckers are dutybound to put on these feigned threats and jerkarounds until they have figured out how deep they carved the traumatizations. Just leave me the fuck alone and fill up the bank account. Fucking now is long overdue.

Did I post this link earlier and get mindfucked out of my normal recollections? I might have as there has been other such events this week, but here is the link (again), and is by a TI whoe is very much fucking fed up, like all of us. Electronic Harassment is a Hate Crime. It is worse than that; it is depraved invasion down to one's thoughts, and autonomic body processes for nonconsensual gain. They called this concentration camp once upon a time, but even then, they didn't go that far, or at least overtly. It is my sneaking suspicion that past (and current) wars are nothing but a wide-scale perp nonconsensual experimentation show, obviously in more violent form, and often life terminating. And here we get all this alien talk (nonsense, IMHO) about how humans are so violent and they need to be dociled to be cooperative on a permanent basis. And who might of fomented these conflicts for ulterior motives in the first place? That was my little conspiracy rant for the month, and I don't usually go there, but every so often I am somehow compelled to do so.

Another perp "dropping"; tunable colors by magnetic interaction. Like so what; all day I deal with an imposed perversion of the entire physicality of my existence, usually with malevolent intent and adverse outcome, and I am supposed to find such "nano-putzing" interesting?

More ponderings of the earlier visit to the TI and the cross purposes confusion as to what was to be accomplished and then finding out it couldn't be done in any event as a vital porting cable was lost. Is she a perp's cooperating TI, or is she a total quisling, or is she a controlled plant? I don't know, but offering me two tone brown/chocolate cookies before I departed smacks of deliberate perp arrangement. I thought I had this one done with, as in having no more contact, but then she bought all those interesting instruments and the EMF detection they offered that you have seen in today's pictures, and from last week. Enough rambling about cookies and the rest of it, maybe I should call it off for good.

This one is done, and onto whatever fuckover games and stunts that are scripted. And as I typed that, a total tab/site change was imposed by other means than me, or any keystroke sabotage.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Monday City Bus Show

The gangstalker show wasn't too freakish today on the city bus. I had a weird at the bus stop keep rubbing his head and making funny faces and even came out of the bus shelter to be closer to me. Then I moved another 10' away. The red and white Coca-cola gangstalker truck was outside the bus stop, a putative delivery despite no deliveryman or associated activity. This is the same truck that "happens" to show up parked on my walking routes, outside my doctor's office, parked at a gas station for outbound and inbound travelling, at least three hours apart and a few more odd appearences that don't come to mind. All that red and white metal panels covering a brown beverage. Much like the rage-ification fuckover games when applying peanut butter and then jam to toast for breakfast.

Some five minutes into the bus trip a seeming herd of high school students boarded the bus and lo, if the sole negro didn't end up beside me in the back full-width seat. And she liked to wave her arms plenty too. Other brown skinned creatures also moved in and out in rotation, eventually building up to a hispanic looking man in a deep red shirt. There were no end of working age dudes on the bus, and it has never been explained to me why there are all there at 1100h instead of at day jobs. I don't expect an answer to that anytime soon. I rang the bell for getting off the bus, pulling on my immediate right side, and lo, if the negro woman didn't get up to let me out of my seat. As in, how did she know I rang the bus cord as she couldn't of seen me do it? Anyhow, I get these and plenty of other mysterious events in any given day, and I am sure that my perception of all these is highly managed, noting the incremental mind-fuck games that have progressively sapped my cognitive abilities in the last few years.

The perps had me get up at 1000h this morning at my perp-abetting parent's place, making for a 11 hour sleep which is at least three hours longer than normal. I get the sense the get-up time is more about shaping the rest of the morning, as in insufficient time to do any gardening work. And too, there wasn't anything too compelling since the weed re-growth was abated with weed whacking and herbicide.

Though it was an earlier visitation time yesterday, and I was employed for 1.5 hours in building a bamboo frame for the runner beans. I got jerked with the notion of drilling holes in the raised bed and got my drill box out from the crawl space. Only to "find out" (again) that some asshole has stolen my drill, and that the same asshole fucked me out out of remembering that when it first happened about two months ago. I don't forget that shit, ever, especially when something gets stolen, and so it was another never-before recall fuckover stunt. No doubt it was all about having me go through the same process of "discovery" of theft when outside the house in the sun, as opposed to inside the house like the first time. Such things make a huge difference to the assholes. As well, wearing my tan-through shirt while outside, though no tanning took place I learned this morning. I am not surprised. Again, the nature of sunlight upon one's skin is a huge subject of perp research and attendent fuckery.

My mother and I got my father from the old folk's hospital for the afternoon; I don't like hospitals or anything about them, so this exercise must serve some perp purpose, as have past imposed visitations. And lo, if there wasn't an attractive blonde woman in a short skirt on her cell phone at the entrance, loitering there while my mother did the sign-in. Regular readers will know that attractive blonde women are placed as some kind of entre, aka introductory gangstalker, before the rest of the unkempt gangstalker scum surface in the same vicinity. And this would of been my third visit to this location, and I suppose in perp-think, I was due to be given the eye-candy before the wheelchairs and other loathesome devices surface in number.

The perps had me all whacked-out over the 60 Minutes stories last night on TV, even if all were repeats. This is the state of what I call "emo trashing" where they have me in near tears over the plight of the aggrieved and defenceless. And too, that of the valiant protagonist, Alice Waters' food movement, aka "slow food", as in nourishing, just-picked freshness. I am getting fucking tired of being jerked with over these stories, especially repeats, when I know I would have had very little emotional linkage to them, and yet the "normal me" doesn't seem to serve the purposes of the gutless assholes that continue to manipulate my emotional state. Just tell me why to my face, asshole, and see if you have one left after that.

Other TV news goings on were the usual variations; crowds all over,- protests in Iran over election results, and the Golden Ears bridge opening in Vancouver was a gong show with 60,000 pedestrians arriving and plugging up the bridge, and some others that escape me. I haven't quite figured out why the perps like me to see huge crowds, but I am always glad I am not in them, and instead, get to see it on TV.

This one is done; plenty of motorcycle noise tonight, even too loud with the earmuffs on and forcing me to remove them and plug my ears. Such events are often timed when reading or thinking (har, har) about the various top perp themes, see the Consolidated Link List and the Pondering the Perps' Objectives. How can the motorcycle noise be as loud as streetside noise is a constant mystery being six stories up. Total Sensory Perversion might be the ideal book title should I ever undertake such an onerous task. I don't see it somehow, as I don't have the perseverence, and it is managed to be even less than what I would have.

I do a video shoot tomorrow of a local TI's location and the measurements on her electric and magnetic field detection instruments. I never get a word in edgewise, and if responding to a question I get cut off inside of 10 seconds. Like talking to a wall sometimes, a common and long time theme in this Potemkin Bubble I am kept in, and it has a longer history than that in certain circumstances.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Short Shift

A short blog posting as I will be heading off to the First Feral Family doings in the early afternoon, and stay there until Monday morning. I suppose there might be some gardening work to do there, and that is all for the good to keep my finances in a hole, but not a deeper hole than what is already dug by this insane chocolate habit the assholes have tagged me with.

Laundry got done earlier, always a big deal for assholes. They now like scripting some hang-to-dry clothing in the load too; most gets tumbled in the dryer, but a few thin synthetic shirts get hung up in the bathroom. Endless permutations on laundry. Last week they arranged for one sock to be "overlooked" in the washing machine, and so when it came time to put the dry clothes away, one sock was missing. I duly retrieve it and then needing to expedite its drying, I put it on the warm concrete surface of the balcony. I suppose it was a huge deal for the sickos to have pair mate socks, one tumble dried in a dryer, and the other air dried on a hot concrete slab, and then have them put together as a pair. And then sometime this week I wore this pair of socks, and I am sure something exciting will erupt for the perps in all their arcane microscopic inspection of all permutations and combinations and juxtapositions and provenance of all things. A mouthful, but it does cover the nature of their exploits/research.

And my perp abetting mother arranged her usual Sunday phone call to stall me on putting the last two folded shirts together in the drawer. So for the roundabout conversation another big perp event, having two folded shirts sitting on the bed for a few extra minutes while the phone call ensued with the usual variable time commitments that are now my mother's stock in trade.

The Pseudosweats erupted this morning at breakfast, and today, it was a first; having me change pants, shirt, underwear and socks after showering. A total clothing change, partially to expedite laundering, but a first as normally they like me to keep one item on to serve as some kind of reference for the pre-shower clothing choices (during breakfast) and the post-shower clothing changes.

More bizarre dreams late, just before get up at 0700h. And a very technical one; they wanted me to purchase an $350 Intel Core i7 920 CPU for my next computer upgrade, but have it sitting idle until the motherboard part, into which it fits a socket, is availible. (This particular 920 model is slated to be discontinued even if it represents the least expensive CPU to upgrade to a new CPU architecture). So here we have one of the most complex electronic artifacts commercially manufactured sitting in the residence of one of the most life sabotaged victims until such time it can be tested, months later. Lets see; how does one quantify risk, if not a bizarre planted notion that would get zero consideration if I was awake?

But it is similar to the last unplanned PC upgrade in 08-2006; the CPU was ordered by me from Ontario to arrive at the PC builders while they bullshited me for at least three more weeks over which motherboard was availible, and related follies to extend the duration between CPU arrival and its eventual mounting in the motherboard. And to add to the mix, there was some prior six to eight months of planning the next PC components, and lo, if it didn't all get tossed with the plans being unavailible (on the PC, har, har) and the PC maintenance shop was Intel only (an AMD CPU system was the selected choice at the time). And still, I have no idea as to what this summer's vocational plans for me are which would enable me to begin such an aquisition. Same old same inanity.

But it does demonstrate that my PC components are under close scrutiny as to their respective timing of aquisition and installation. And I suspect that the colors of wires, circuit boards and all of the electronic components are of vital interest to the assholes, and that they aren't relenting anytime soon as to their ongoing research.

Other orchestrated mind planted notions today have been envisioning (aka, per planted thoughts) as myself as an interview subject and then answering the questions, again planted, but as if coming from the interviewers. The perps like this scenario, and the few interviews that I have given (in real life) have all been exercised/exploited in this same way, often for over a year later. They also do this in advance of doctor appointments as well. Some of the questions end up being rehearsals as I come to find out, and many others aren't brought up. And of course, there are questions that were not anticipated in this mind-fuck way of planting them in advance.

The post lunch nap attacks are coming on again. Keeping me seated and watching the LCD, and then applying an near state of sleep, and even missing the re-display of some pages. Too, a vertical center 1" band is colored with brighter white and moves a little between each look. The overhead rumbling noise also accompanies these soporific moments.

Due for imminent pick up, so this is it for today.