Multicultural Cabbage Patching

2115h
Another week has ended, the farm jobs being centered around the cabbage plantations and us laborers picking them, and then putting them into boxes for weighing. There is a decidedly incremental approach in having me work with Caucasians first, then a possible native-Caucasian mix, and then the piece de resistance, darker brown skinned E. Indians, then the Mexicans in my proximity over the duration of the task.The perps like to have me around weigh scales, and I am always very gentle with such objects as they are usually delicate. No one else is though; pounding more cabbages into the box while it is on the scales, and driving around with this mechanical object with no lockup so it is constantly jiggling and moving while on the flatbed truck, often with me on board, on the rutted access lanes.

The cabbage packing and weighing is quite an art, if not an unattainable mastery of a three ring circus; must be 50lb net, must number 13 to 14/box, and must all fit into a too small box. And to complicate matters there are at least three varieties, and individual characteristics such as density and firmness. This brought on all kinds of meetings, phone calls in the field, re-packing and weighing at the warehouse and numerous re-work occasions to get this right. In perp terms, this is one of their favorites, having me work on live botanical objects, cut them from their roots, and continue to shape the leaves and cabbage head to conform with the above specs, as well as rid it of any occluded insects and other boring critters. And of course, the perps never fail to add environmental noise whenever the cabbage is severed from its stalk, e.g. nearby throat clearing, sneezing or talking, and introduced motorcycle noise in the distance and other loud mufflered vehicles passing by. Regular readers will know the perps like to have me prune trees and bushes, harvest fruit and vegetables, and plant or cut trees. And if you have read the book, The Secret LIfe of Plants, there is good reason to suspect that there is an interconnection between us and plant life. (They put lie detector sensors on plants and even discovered that they were reacting pre-emptively to anticipated actions by the researchers.) Regular readers will recall in early 2009 that my in-town brother drowned a captured squirrel at the very moment I was pruning a branch from one of his trees. So, there must be an energetic connection that the perps are looking at to remotely measure and quantify so they can fuck more people (and plants) more often with greater convenience. Just my speculation, but what else would explain their obsessive coordination of events and personnel when I am doing plant work?

And speaking of plants, the perps actually laid off the intense fuckery when I got back to my apartment tonight, and I thought I might get a low-level harassment reprieve, but no, they poured on the bullshit when I took a clove of garlic and prepared it for pressing, and they didn't let up after that. They got me riled up first by smacking my head when the nearest possible causal object (fridge door) 12" away, then by sticking the garlic to my fingers so I couldn't get it off, had the garlic skin (a huge fuckover toy in 2004) flip laterally for 10" and disperse onto the counter top and adjacent plate. The garlic skins were suddenly difficult to remove, and then when off, somehow travelled nearby, laterally, to ensure they ended up on surfaces other than the cutting board which I was working over. After that, it was business as usual; 30 to 50 fake touchings per hour (jabbing, poking, brushing along side fingers, hands, inside arm), enragement with extra-conventional games with crumbs and objects at about half the above rate, and as well as extra noise whenever I am handling any object no matter how cautious.

2200h
For the second day in succession, a redhead sat in front of me on the S. bound bus to downtown. Yesterday was payday, and the perps put on extra gangstalkers, and the redhead immediately in front of me went so far as to put hear arm across the seat, but it was on my side of the seat back. Talk about blatant personal territory incursion, that was it.

I am getting a sudden onset of restlessness, so I will call this a one done, and won't be able to go into the details of the gangstalking co-workers, especially notable at break times.