Thursday, November 05, 2009

Offline Days Are Finally Done

11-11-2009, Rememberance Day, national holiday in Canada

Let's see what happened, (har, har) this past week while getting this PC rebuilt. The good news is that after only six screamings at the perps over jerkarounds in making the physical connections I have a working PC with the latest and fastest hardware. Bragging some, but only this time, an Intel Core i7 920 D0 quad-core processor with 6Gb of DDR3 RAM, an Asus P6T WS motherboard, a Gigabyte 9600 Silent Cell VGA card, a Plextor BD/DVD disc player, and a new 640Gb Western Digital hard drive.

Events, inanities and other orchestrations of the past week in no particular order were;

There was an apartment building wide fire alarm that brought out the fire department in their yellow and white trucks, at least five of them, with the ladder truck conveniently finding some eight empty parking stalls in file so it could park at the curb around the corner. The two fire trucks in mid street opposite this apartment building and the command vehicle parked on the other side from where I watched the proceedings. Three firemen each with mouths agape were in place as I entered the lobby from the stairs. And the supposed long gone (two months now) former building manager, and witness to at least six past fire alarms, was reprised from his old job wherever that is and brought out to play building manager for us residents filing out past him. His successor never showed up most curiously, only the assistant as an additional "helper". It was all over in some five minutes or so, and as I was about to enter the stairway, why, the same three firemen were just behind the door and filing out while I held the door. Convenient that, especially in their dayglo duds. One fire truck proceeded to depart, and one block away, another fire truck entered the same street so it too could proceed in the same direction on the same side of the road as its compatriot immediately in front of me. Get this; a "spare" fire truck "shows up" a block away timed to then proceed in the same direction as the one in front of me, without any emergency rationale. And no less, it was entering a dead ended street in the next block.

On the farm laboring front;
I am getting some 20 to 30 helicopters a day if I am out in the open field or even near the warehouse entrance. The extra dark grey military Sea King is doing some 80% of the appearances, and was joined by one in the typical Canadian Forces lighter grey. As always, some kind of blackish beam is emanating from it, different in form most each time I happen to stare at it, though they did zap me with a bright point source (likely a maser, seen axially) yesterday, coming off the rotor tip. Last week, there was a helicopter each time the same three of us get out of the truck at the same location, two days in succession. On the second day, they had me scripted to say something like, "what kind of helicopter is it today", and my co-workers went quiet on that one, not wanting to affirm this unlikely occurence. One of those arranged conversation ending statements they like me to perform.

Thursday last week, 11-05-2009, the E. Indian worker was in the changing room with me and the two Latino workers, and he had a large box of cinamon buns and they were passed around. This was the area where we eat our 15 minute breaks, as it isn't worth it to take off one's rain gear only to put it on again in such a short time. This was the 1000h break, and I had one. Later at the 1500h break I had a "need" for this junk food again (something I rarely purchase or eat otherwise), and I was offered one. I was changing to head out early for my evening class and asked for another one, which the fellow gladly supplied. After saying my goodbyes, and heading out of the warehouse for a 20 minute walk to the bus stop, he comes after me with the box of cinamon buns, now some 100' from the exit door, offering me the last one. And as I was attempting to cleanly lift it it did a backflip into the box again, breaking in two. Eventually I was allowed to grab it all after some extended finger manipulations, having to eat part of it in front of him. I thanked him for his generousity and did the gracious pleasantires, and headed off. But it struck me that he was, per perp direction, chasing me with the cinamon buns and offering them, with me eating them, in widely differing lighting conditions; stark flourescent lights of the ersatz break area, and then outside in full light, next to the two story blue painted warehouse siding. I suppose there was a few more elements in all of this; feeding me glutenous food (I normally avoid gluten like at least one TI I know, likely by perp diet arrangement), and of course, getting some brown color in while in the presence of a brown skinned person. All this is exciting for the perps, and these themes (gluten (aka bread-stalking) and brown color (aka brown-stalking)) are as consistent as this harassment is abusive and relentless.

Other farm themes have been over the apparent lighting and light sources; they have me working in the greenhouses at first for and hour or two, then have me in the fields, and then rotate me into the greenhouse again, sometimes all within one morning. They even had me do weeding immediately ouside the green houses as part of a Foodsafe condition, the BC public health initiative that is extending to farms and their laborers, and entails plenty of handwashing and Purelle applications, just what the perps like best. They like me to work on red colored vegetables or fruits in the greenhouse; radishes and strawberries as prime examples. Other days, they reverse the greenhouse and field work. All to highly variable weather conditions, though no snow. Regular readers and TI's will know the perps have no end of fascination with light sources that illuminate me (or other TI's), as well as what kind of material it may pass through; glass (greenhouses), safety glass (has a plastic film in the center of a two glass sandwich), transparent vinyl and hoophouse poly coverings and whatever else there may be that allows light to pass through.

Other consistent farm work themes are having me pull weeds, harvest salad leaves (e.g. mizuma, arugula, Italian parsely) and to cut cabbages (also packing the boxes, weighing and stacking them). Often times, there are helicopter noise at the moment of cutting the cabbages, or other arranged noise, sometimes with a light flash (plasma) as well. And too, when weeding next to the greenhouse (per above, when I was yarding as much as I could to pull a blackberry vine from the roots, someone starts talking to me and asking for an answer to an inane question. I suppose they want to have me thinking on two tracks while exerting myself in concert with the blackberry's plight.

Then last Friday, 11-06-2009, I phone the PC shop to ask what the state of the job is, and I get three differing versions in the same day of the PC being ready, with progressively diminutive levels of level of job completion depending who I spoke with;

1000h technician -done, ready, no problems, only need to pay the bill, phone back later to settle up,
1200h receptionist -done, just need to get the bill written up, technician saying its done, talk to the account manager,
1500h account manager -not done, technician takes Saturday off, won't be done until Monday, need to talk to me because a hard drive needs reformatting. The PC's were picked up yesterday, 11-10-2009, after some more screw-ups about not delivering when they said they would. Which suggests, if the perps are breaking down the job (functional decomposition) of PC service (or other) like this, they have a long road to go, reducing activities to these coarse sub-elemental stages.

And no coincidence (IMHO), later in the day, my in-town techno-phobic brother phones to tell me his PC problems, motherboard failed, and eliciting me to retell the above story again, along with other screw arounds from the the prior PC technician who also didn't take on the job for mysterious reasons. Keeping the subject topical but from differing sources seems to also be a perp trait these days.

Anyhow, I better get this precis posted as I am due to get to bed early tonight. But there has been a serious amount of abuse tonight; flicking food around, pulling objects from my hand, totally muddling me over the settling of accounts as to how much my mother owes me for the PC parts, and the entire First Feral Family event that unfolded over the day, as none of it was mentioned. As well, my daughter got lots of PC time at my mother's, she with the "new" PC with most of my old parts in it (motherboard, memory, CPU) plus some new ones, (video card, hard drive (identical to my upgrade too), and a new case. As mentioned in the past, the perps are very interested in the color of everything I am in contact with, and that includes the insulation on the wires, color of the capacitators, color of the chips, and of course, the color of the metals, especially copper. I have had a plethora of copper colored vehicles gangstalking me today, and I would assume it will continue for some duration until the "new-ness" of this PC is faded, in whatever way the assholes determine that. I also got a black vehicle escort for 90% of my drive to my apartment to drop of this newly re-built PC; I departed from my mother's place at 0810h to drive the PC with its black glossy case in her silver-grey Ford Escape, and lo, if my tail wasn't a glossy black Ford Escape. Regular readers will recall when I first transported this PC to my place in 2008, I also had a lead-ahead black glossy vehicle gangstalking me right to the apartment building. Enough conspiracy talk for now.

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