Call of the Daffodils + 02-23-2010 Updates

2050h
Two days of daffodil flower picking are over. I will take tomorrow off (a Tuesday) to sort out the back ordered/no show removable hard drive rack for my PC. And of course the perps make me do this ass backwards. The process should of been to confirm the local source first, then cancel the back ordered item second. But no, I got fucked into doing it backwards, without confirmation of local supply, and I "forget" and send an email to cancel the backorder. I hope I can sort this all out tomorrow with a minimum of fuss, but this entire bullshit was exacerbated by the fact that the backorder outfit didn't reply to my email today, and neither did the local supplier. One fuck up after another, and then they have me fuck up as well, putting this much protracted exercise, now into its third week, into deeper doubt. And this removable rack order started because the perps wouldn't let me load a boot manager (tried four different ones) and then they wouldn't let me install VMWare, which would of provided a Linux environment, which is what I want. This insane litany of technical sabotage has been playing out for at least five weeks, and I am sick fucking fed up of this, and the rest of this senseless obstruction and sabotage.

And that is only the PC and the Linux environment. Then I want to load Oracle 11g on it, plus some Oracle software tools, and then use it to learn and study what is being taught in my evening class. I am only six weeks late already. And as well, the assholes continually dither me after an hour of studying, so this is all getting rather tense as I want to write two exams on this material to earn some kind of credential, rather than being only a course participant. My plan is to study most of April and write the exams in the latter part. But as I am doing this with "new company", erstwhile sabateurs from hell, and it behooves me to get on with it, and I cannot. One delay after another after another and then the technical hurdles mentioned above still must be accomplished.

Back to other perp arranged inanity. Two extened 1.5 hour delays before picking was permitted, today and yesterday. That means no pay for hanging around with some 100 daffodil pickers, now getting infiltrated with some wackos. There were more housewife types last week, but they seemed to have dropped out, and the trail of strange dudes (mostly males) has been inserted. Why, even a skateboarder "happened" to catch the crew bus on the approach to the highway, so the bus stops in the adjacent lane and picks up this tall blonde weird with long hair, beard, red sweater and his freaking skateboard. Never seen the guy before, so how did he know to get the bus there, which by rights, shouldn't of stopped there and obstruct the traffic behind it. Stranger things have "happened" on the crew bus, but not more blatant ones.

Me, and some hundred gringos or so, plus 50 Mexicans, got to hang around in the farm warehouse grounds until the chief grower allowed us to set off picking, as the daffodil stems were frozen from the frost. And of course it it prime gangstalking time then, having the victim captive with all the weirds. Lets see; there were at least two lying down horizontal on the packed gravel surface, two doing some kind of ass-to-ass yoga, at least four dudes aligned and doing some kind of stretches, one with his feet wide and a plastic grocery bag dangling between his legs, and  then there was the grotesque red fuzzy mop haired dude did at least three pass-bys as I was sitting on the concrete wall for the entire time. All the while I got to listen to the inane banter going on, though thankfully no Scottish or British accents, though some other Germanic languages which doesn't seem to perturb me in the same way. (Or, at least, that is how the perps control my "reactions" to be).

And how is it that I am either first or last on the bus so often? This morning, after waiting, and the word came down that we could go picking, I went to get the right gear for a warm day, which it was, and wasn't gone more than three minutes and when I came out, both buses were filled up and I was the last to get on. Yesterday, two identical crew/school buses were lined up at the day's end, and I sat on the first one, and no one came on board. Then after some 15 minutes, the 50 Mexicans arrive plus one gringo and fill the bus. Their foreman tells us two gringos that the bus wasn't going back to the farm, so we got off to go in the bus behind where all the gringo daffodil pickers were on the bus. So how did everyone know they were to go to the second bus and not the first one, and how did they know that the Mexicans were going to have their own bus when the  two crews were mixed in the morning's run to the daffodil fields? Funny how all this groupthink is just so plain efficient and I am not in on it. And as it turned out, the bus with the Mexicans DID stop at the farm warehouse, and we could of stayed on board.

What else is there about the continuing toil in the fields of daffodils? Plenty, especially when I am handling the groups of 25 elastic bands (think brown color) that I arrange on black carabiners so they are stored ready in discrete quantities. They had three around me first thing this morning when I was first transferring the 25 elastic bands on the black colored carabiner to my leftmost two fingers on my black gloved left hand where they stay slightly stretched, enough to hold them there. Anytime I do this in the field, and not just when starting with other milling around me, the perps put on extra street/road traffic noise, extra tractor noise or someone starts a conversation. Yesterday, my daffodil row mate "needed" some of my elastics immediately after I finished replenishing my supply onto the carabiners. All to sample the brown, it seemed, the brown being the color of the elastics that bunch ten daffodils, the unit of pay. (See the posting  All Things Brown and Beautiful under the Consolidated Links List at the right if you are unfamiliar as to the perp's obsession over all things brown). We are to pick over 7 million daffodils as part of the contract to the Canadian Cancer Society. That is a whole lot of daffodils any way you cut it.

Another pisser today was my daffodil cutting knife, one that I kept sharp each day by sharpening it up with a diamond hone, was lost. I left it in a box of daffodils at the far end of the field as there was no foreman around to tally the count. When I later encounter the forewoman, I ask her to retrieve my knife as a favor when she does her rounds to tally my daffodil bunches. And lo, it "so happens", that she does retirieve it, but she loses my knife before she got back. I don't believe it; she isn't a careless person, she even lost her own personal knife, and somehow she loses my knife too. I had a spare, so it was put to use; the knife had been in my kitchen drawer in a plastic tray for the past 2.5 years, so it is likely that this knife losing stunt was well planned. I just don't get it; why have someone else lose my knife for me when they could of fucked me into losing it "myself"?

And it seems as part of the show, it is important to the perps as to how I sharpen the knife, and what color the honing device is, and what materials it is made of. I switched to a two grit diamond hone for the first time last week, and marvelled at how I didn't have to hone the knife for an hour to get the edge sharp. And not having to dress the stone to unclog the porous structure is another bonus. So I would assume this knife losing incident is part of the stunt of testing the interaction of the two different kinds of knife steel with that of the sharpening device and that of the daffodil stem cutting. And too, the color of the plastic "dots" filler on the hone; why didn't they make the entire surface the diamond hone the same material instead of adding the plastic filler? Go figure.[later, I read that it is to allow the residual metal space so it doesn't clog the hone surface].

I could riff on for all the knives that I have "lost" over the years, now assigned to perp meddling and fuckery, as they still go apeshit with noise anytime I use a knife, especially when I cut up the cooked chicken meat, (and even as I type this). I have had knives that got lifted from my airline luggage, one that strangely flipped out of what I considered to be a secure sheath, a Buck knife that went missing "by itself" in my apartment in 2003, and its predecessor Buck knife that strangely broke and was replaced. The perps constantly lobby me to get a ceramic knife for the kitchen, but as they cost $100 or more, I tell them to deliver one instead, which they don't do of course. Their modus operandi is to have me "find" one somehow, though for such an exotic item, that would be truly odd. I need a better gig than daffodil picking to afford that kind of luxury.

And how long have humans being making cultery; swords, knives, etc. in the bronze age, then the iron age, etc. and here we have the perps hounding me over which kind of knife I use and how I sharpen it. My 12" chef's knife has been in my posession for over 30 years, and always leached some rust if it was left to air dry, so I would dry it immediately after doing the dishes. In 2003, the perps decided they didn't like the kind of steel it was made from, and slowly changed it over a week or two into a different kind of steel that does not leach iron oxide (rust). I haven't devoted much thought to why the perps are so fucking beserk over knives, and my use of them, but I would surmise that the iron, and all the other elements that are made into the knife steel all have various "earth energies" (from the ore), and these are conveyed to the food or object when it is being cut. Some people say they can taste the metal on knife cut food, though that isn't true for me.

A possible "countermeasure" or perp confounding measure might be for the TI to ingest some iron powder, assuming this is safe after one does their homework to determine this. I have looked in the past, but could not find any Canadian suppliers, as I didn't want to take the risk it would be intercepted and not allowed. Idle speculation on my part; dither one's own electromagnetic signature. Perhaps ingesting colloidal silver in healthful quantities might be a better method of achieving the same end.

There were other strange eruptions on the daffodil picking front that aren't coming into memory, so I will leave this posting for now, and will add them in later.

02-23-2010 Updates

0945h
More recollections from yesterday's daffodil picking in the farm fields are now permitted. It was the day of wearing the deep grey undershirt, and hence, per past experiences, extensive flypasts of the deep grey colored military helicopter that frequents that area for some unknown reason as there is no military base or helicopter operations center nearby, only a commercial (international) airport. I gave up wearing this undershirt as there was an undeniable correlation of the Sea King flypasts whenever wearing it when doing farm work duties in the fall last year, (09 to 11-2009), but as it "happened", this same deep grey undershirt was my only option yesterday, and so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see this very same helicopter making at least 15 passes by the farm fields yesterday. As always, some kind of blackish beam emanated from the radome. And too, these daffodil fields are a half mile further south and west of where I was working last fall, and the flight path seemed to be changed to accomodate its usual E. flight path to be in the same respective horizon position of the daffodil fields I was working in. As mentioned last fall, the Sea King helicopters are usually a light colored grey, but this particular one is a deep grey color, matching that of my single deep grey undershirt. Time to toss it.

Other deep grey color attention yesterday was a bulk cement transporter, presumably loaded with cement, that lead the crew bus for most of the 10km drive into downtown at the end of the day. I see about two bulk cement tractor trailers a month, so who knows, maybe it was just coincidence. Plenty of perp beserkness over this deep grey color has been noted in the past, and I suppose they are working through their leveraging of small amounts of the color on clothing, the deep grey vinyl palms of my black stretchy work gloves, to that of my undershirt (under black fleece sweater and a mid blue fleece vest), and who knows what, up to a tractor trailer and pup load of cement. I don't know the reason for these incremental color exposures, a small amount immediately close (e.g. clothing portion) leading up to a larger amount further away (e.g. bulk cement some 40' in front), but it is as consistent as it is relentless.

And on the negro exposures front, they introduced a negro male onto the crew who was working some 20' distant, and then pulled him further away after some 10 minutes, which is what they nearly always do. (On the city bus they werre pulling off the male negroes within five minutes for a time). A mentioned before, they are less than 3% of the population in this area,  and yet have a disporportinate amount of perp arranged gangstalking exposure. And when doing the forced outing to the LD for a pharmacy refill because their phone refill system was inexplicably on the fritz, why, there was a negro male on "just standing there" duty (aka sentry duty) outside my apartment building on the sidewalk of the same height and build as the one in the daffodil crew yesterday. It was too dark for a positive identification, but chances are it was the same one, going by this same coincidence being played out earlier (described next).

When I got off the crew bus yesterday in downtown, and walked a half block, why, there was one of the dudes on the daffodil picking crew who wasn't on the bus, "happening" to be waiting at a traffic controlled street corner some 15' ahead. And as I was making the identification it was the same Fuckwit, he slowly turns around for absolutely no reason and looks at me through his ridiculous wrap around shades on 1750h, close to dusk), and then slowly turns around to return his gaze to look at the street he was about to cross. This isn't the first time that a Fuckwit has done a "pose and stare", to expressly look behind himself (note, spinal twist, perp favorite move after head scratching) for absolutely no reason, but it is interesting that they have Fuckwit bait in place that I gradually identify as a co-worker or doppelganger thereof, who gives me the stare for no reason, looking behind them so to incorporate a spinal twist. Advice for the sickos; stick to blondes instead of these fugly dudes.


Enough of yesterdays Fuckwit World, and on with today's.