Odd Morning

1610h
A 11 hour sleep this morning and I awakened to the phone ringing. My perp-abetting mother happened to be in the neighborhood getting her eyes tested and wondered if I wanted to go out for coffee. I then had to get dressed and wait some, not having eaten any breakfast or showered, shaved or cleaned my teeth, the usual morning time start. And I believe that I mentioned the perps' fascination with what I eat as well as how showering, shaving and dental hygeine are disrupted by various perp antics and stunts. So it would seem they got me; having me in public without having eaten or the rest of the morningtime preparation. It was to be a local Starbucks as it turned out, the chair and table being near the serving area, perfect for Fuckwits to dwell and put on the banter with the staff.

And it was a minor parade; the red shirts and coats, the tattoos, the near skinhead dudes and one motorized wheechair act all from the Unfavored demographic groups and the blonde babe in a brown corduroy jacket over a red checked shirt. Her 2' long soft sided instrument case was a mid-grey tone, and it does replicate the color of the plastic razor blade inserts  that I normally use, but not having the opportunity today. But maybe it may seem that I am getting too picky. She then later sat some 10' further away, presumably as a more distant reference for whatever gains there was to having her 4' away when lingering at the service delivery for whatever she ordered. Though I would have to say it was a low key gangstalking, and not one that a uninitiated person would notice, except when we departed. At least four gangstalkers came in succession then, one of them bearing the Starbuck's coffee cup, bringing it into a Starbuck's no less, then giving me some kind of flirty look. I don't think so; I would of been old enough to be her grandfather.

Judging by the skinhead games from last night's class, and today, it would seem that the sickos are working on my aversion to this form of "hurl-do" by having the male skinhead be seen to be growing back his hair, so there isn't the full shining bald pate, but one just as reflective but with flecks of regenerating hair among it breaking up the visual pattern. I suppose it is the incremental method of past traumatization presentation again; show subset portions or variations and attempt to build from there. That is, build some kind of non-traumatization response, and to eventually include the whole picture, and then insert that in place of the traumatization responses that I carry. I believe they have already done this in some instances, e.g. having me get slapped in the face. They set up some bozo landscaping laborers in 2007-08 to pull a tree portion down as I was walking past, and thereby set the scene for the branch to slap me in the face instead of a person. And when reaming out the asshole for being so fucking stupid, why, his back was turned and he was also wearing earmuffs. How convenient.

Other traumatization re-enactment games that have been reduced have been Scottish accented Fuckwits; I haven't heard one for nearly a year, discounting the TV of course. The zappings were also curtailed in 2008, though with a few this week for the first time since then. Regular readers will know that two of my first five years were spent in Montreal in the latter 1950's, and that recall deletions were applied, and that this was the very same time that the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron was "treating"/abusing patients at McGill where my father was attending in his geology studies. And as it so "happens" Dr. Cameron was from Scotland and had a pronouced Scottish accent, and this may have been where my subconscious loathings of Scottish accents was emplaced. I had no idea that I even loathed them until all this started, and really didn't care either way, but since the harassment started they have a way of making one more reactive, or to react to things that were of no concern before.

So goes this mental intrusion, right to the very neural make-up of one's formative memories, even to levels (the subconsious) that one is entirely unaware of, conscious recall having been forgotten or fucked with to make sure certain memories did not get made. But it seems that subconscious memories not only get made but also get associated with traumatizations for all time, even though the rest of one's experiences with former traumatization images and constructs are neutral or even favorable.

And I noticed while at Starbucks that the sickos wanted me to to see their handiwork of arranging ragged edge lines and arcs. The square floor tiles had a chipped irregular edge to them, and for some strange reason the perps wanted me to look at them, at least 20x when I couldn't give a shit. Then another round on the plates on the table; instead of the plate edge being a smooth arc, it was a made of small 1" flat sections, something like a coin. It was difficult to pick up the arc pattern at first, as for some reason I got dittered when I first looked at it. I wouldn't of mentioned this trivia if not for the fact that the assholes routinely dither my peripherial vision to have arcs and lines represented as a set of pixels hashed along a straight line. Usually these incursions are so fleeting in the first place, usually when my head is moving, and all I do is move my head somewhere else to be freed from this visual fuckery. So it would seem that the sickos are working on my vision, as in fucking it, whenever I am to see lines and arcs. And it almost goes without saying that the ongoing maser fuckery I see all day long, again in fleeting vignettes mostly, also displays momentary black colored arcs and lines, often coming from nowhere, not even projected from an existing line or arc of a solid object.

1650h
The tapping noise has started up again from outside, mysteriously getting through my earmuffs. As before, there is no apparent source for someone to be tapping large wood beams, and having it go on for months at a time. This isn't the neighborhood for wood frame construction, nor is it one where a permenant cessation of construction progress is in place to serve as a plausible source. This same tapping noise started up while eating chocolate with my tea earlier, somehow "knowing" I wasn't wearing my earmuffs at that moment. Just the same beserk bullshit; if a specific noise is required to penetrate hearring protective earmuffs it will, and screw the excuses and conventionally rational explanations.

2005h
A whole buch of downloads to get Oracle Enterprise Linux loaded, which requires that they be loaded onto a CD/DVD. I have been screwed so many times by the CD/DVD writing process that I have rarely done it as it "blows up" either through cognitive or software sabotage. They just don't want me to do this which isn't the end of the world, save for backups. I go to my stack of discs and I find that they have no lable on the package, it has been removed by someone. Since I have never sused a CD?DVD from this stack/package, and don't have the accompanying label/product description, I have no idea as to what they are? It is fucking absurd that the assholes won't let me know what I have, never mind the litany of sabotage in the past that has rendered me aversive to even burning a disc.

2125h
A sudden trip to the LD store to get some discs that I can write to, not knowing what the above mentioned stack is. I got my negro gangstalking, the dude arriving just ahead of me from 90 degrees offset, but in a rare exception, I didn't see him anywhere else. The chocolate section was littered with the usual suspects, these gormless and shiftless males, one with an old style top hat for crissakes. I scooped the last of the Milka milk chocolate bars and pray that they don't have me eat double rations anymore.

Some progressive research was allowed today, that being educated on the Nervous System of Plants at the Borderlands site. Just to think, this was postulated some  years ago, and no one has moved on it. Sir Jagadis Chandra Bose was surely one of the giants of plant physiology and even with forestry training, I had never heard about him until today. Another one of those far thinking phyisists that never got the attention he deserved. As foresters in training we did study dendrology, and the accepted theory of translocation of sap in trees, but at no point in the course did we ever know there were alternate theories postulated by Sir Bose, and that his alternate theory is still viable because they don't know for sure how plants conduct sap some 100m in the case of the Sequoiadendron giganteum, the California Redwoods.

Getting back to plants and the perpa agenda around them having me doing gardening, especially pruning, sawing, fruit picking, digging and weeding. It would seem that this activity would decidedly disrupt the nervous system of the plant if one is to accept the premise of the plant having a nervous system. And too, the sickos like to set me up to talk about a specific plant, and follow it up by walking by it. If there is a nervous system to a plant, it could be conscious, and hence the perps interest in these games they put me through with respect to vegetative matter. So..., have we figured out the perp's supreme objective; the overt control of all conscious energy of all plant and animal beings and indeed of all life forms. Call me nuts on this one if you like, but I am sticking to my story as I seem to be the central whipping boy in their depraved antics. I will even up it, the overt control of all conscious energy of all plant and animal beings and indeed of all life forms in the universe. The World (Earth) Isn't Enough they might of said back in 2002. There, I got brave and said it, though I have suspected this for some years, and like to cautiously meter my unsubstantiated thoughts as to why they are so fucking relentless and also equally deranged. Like I said, the big objective must be so incredibly important that they would fuck with me for 7.5 years, still pissing around with crumbs, doghairs and lint.

I get these planted around me all the time, and even worse now, they are blatantly teleported onto my dinner plate in front of me and not from the food object that I am holding, even if of the same material (food usually).

2205h
A rousing scream at the assholes because when bookmarking,  they clobbered the name of an existing directory with one I was adding somewhere else and then added "New Folder" in two places. Then it looked like they clobbered my substantial Books directory, and just when I was going to recover from a backup, there it was again. Just another vignette from Fuckover World, where competance is NOT ALLOWED, and THINGS MUST GO WRONG MORE OFTEN THAN USUAL.

This one is done, and I have written all I can for such a dull day, though I suspect this is where they want to keep me for the next three months until I write my Oracle exams. I am still at the "what was I thinking" stage of embarking on DBA courses, though the answer to that is obvious to regular readers and TI's.