Monday, March 15, 2010

Monday Wrap Rap

Late to be starting to blog the slings of arrows of unconventional abuse, and a sudden sinus leak has joined the fray as I type this.

I stayed overnight at the First Feral Family home, in an ridiculous 10 hour sleep, likely timed for whatever the deemed exposure is planned for the morning, My mother was on "get in my way" or "tail me tight" duty this morning, adroitly managing to obstruct the access to the mugs when coffee was ready, ditto for he plates when needing one for my toast that she was also blocking. And as always, I get totally jerked around  now, I would know all these feints and fuckarounds and "somehow" I "forget", ever since mid-2006.

Another near-affront is dealing with incongrous babble from my mother, she indicating that she needed to go to "do her income tax" and somehow adding "bank" into the story as well as a third place that I am not allowed to recall. I had to ask her what one had to do with the other, a first time that I haven't been allowed to decode the inferences she artfully strings together under the cover of old age dither.

I got the drift eventually, and in the process was assigned to plant her two varieties of onions in the raised garden beds I built. Then another round of circumlocution as to which of the two raised beds and where in the bed did she want them and how many and the relative proportions of each and so on. She actually said "east west" which is way out of character as I don't believe she really knows, even after having lived there for over 40 years. Of course she was pointing north-south with her hands when saying that, but eventually I did get a consistent story of where to plant the onions. I find it rather strange that for the important part of gardening, planting the seed or plants, she takes off for a half hour or so while the work is begun and only arrives at the very end of the task when I was covering up the plants for possible squirrel digging. Ditto for my in-town brother; he has a rock wall he wants me to start and takes off after putting the string line in the wrong place. Obviously he knew which instructions I was to follow. Later, he finished the wall himself, but the starter course is the most important and he left it to me absenting himself for no specific reason. This same wierd behavior of "task abandonment" at the critical stage of the job is most curious to say the least, and has been noted before in other First Feral Family encounters.

And a doctor appointment today in the early afternoon, my mother dropping me off with the red vehicle cavalcade (gangstalkers) all about us. And a 15 minute wait in the waiting room so the shiftless males in their red coats could slither in one by one, have their mouths hanging open and read newspapers. This seemed to be the set up for the Fuckwit that came later and paced back and forth, dressed in brown with an orange bag slung from his shoulder. This seemed to be the big deal, having the bag exposed, then when he walked the other direction it was behind him, and then other Fuckwits would pass in front of him and behind him, presumably as some kind of "color stacking" interaction games, the all too familiar "peekaboo" games the assholes like to indulge in.

And too, I was sitting on the copper colored seats in the waiting area, the third round of interior design improvement in six years, and there was nothing wrong with the last two sets of chairs. The first set was deep burgandy red colored, the next set was brown, and now copper color. That I sat on a mid-brown couch last night for some four hours watching the news, 60 Minutes, Prime Suspect, Thrilla From Manila documentary and the National was likely part of the perp's "brown testing", but I am long past any kind of interest in follow on perp manifestations.

The doctor visitation was uneventful save for the number of times he was looking elsewhere when I was talking to him, at least eight times in 25 minutes. I have long seen this behavior, going back decades, and could  never understand at the time as to why this was so prevalent; if they asked the question then surely they would be interested in the answer? Not in TI World where the interactions are scripted and rehearsed, and now that the sickos are in overt-beserk mode, they don't make any bones about it if they want to break off visual interaction. It is not unlike the phone calls, especially to new parties, that begin with back and forths via voice mails, then they are busy and will call later, and then a call gets underway and then they get pullled off, and finally, the call gets completed. The same incremental exposure to the individual via telephone is also applied to in person engagements of any duration. Go figure, but it has been totally consistent for over seven years now and is a sure way to pick off TI collaborators.

 I got to tell my doctor my story as to three rounds of impasses, now five weeks long and counting, as to getting a removable hard drive rack for this PC, and lo, if by coincidence I hadn't told my mother about it the day before. It seems the assholes like me to tell their chosen quislings about their antics, telling the same story about the lastest jerkaround, and "naturally", to no empathy or useful responses. It just seems like an excuse to have me sound off, and in this blog too.

I took the bus from the doctor's appointment to downtown and had my usual freakshow around me. The sickos had the Big Yellow coat next to the babe at a nearby seat, he in a PVC rain coat when it wasn't raining or even a threat of it. As Mondays after a First Feral Family stayover are without me taking any yellow colored medication, it is a prime yellow gangstalker day. Another Unfavored freak was a male suit getting on in a residential area, going one stop and getting off with the person behind him doing the exact same thing. I haven't seen this particular antic before, combining fellow travellers (who pretend to not know each other) with short bus hops, but there are always new combinations of their repetoire of stupid bullshit, and this was one more.

And I am still getting skunked on Milka chocolate at the LD store, making a much gangstalked stop after getting off the bus; a week of an empty shelf location where the Milka bars were, but no replacement. Second best is the Ritter bars, which were 18" deep in the shelf, making me reach in between shelves inches from my arm. This seems to be the trend of late; put the desired item deep in the shelf. This was done with milk last week, replaced sooner because of premature souring of the milk on hand, and has also been exercised in getting gluten free bread from the freezer section.

Then to the lobby of this apartment building where there were ready for me with the off/on assistant manager on the couch and a motorized wheelchair act blocking stairway access as the elevators are still down to one working elevator. Just when I thought this was a squeeze play to keep me in place with the gangstalking company, the elevator arrives, and lo, if it wasn't another motorized wheelchair case. I haven't seen one of these in the building for close to three years of tenancy, and here there was a lobby eruption of two at once, just to keep me jangled, as I fucking hate the sight of wheelchairs. Or, at least, that is the way I am being run, as I didn't really care before 2002 when the perps went overt-beserk. Now, I am hounded all the time by these specters and the perps make sure I am hightly "reactive", read, mind-controlled/planted reaction. It is all part of the Favored and Unfavored scenario, (link at the right) though in the case of motorized wheelchairs, I don't think they really existed back in the "lost years" of 1956 to 1960, when there was recall deletion applied to what I witnessed and what was done to me. Perhaps these motorized wheelchairs don't have the same traumatization associations like manual ones, and hence have comparative value for the sickos. Who knows.

And who in the fuck stands directly behind someone else waiting for a pedestrian traffic signal when there is plenty of room at the curb? I was the only person at the crosswalk corner, and I wouldn't of known she was there until I heard a noise behind me. Another "never before" of public behavior at crosswalks, this doe-eyed babe directly behind me with her coffee in hand, all part of the Coffee Corps that hounds me in public. As in Browning Around, sicko major theme.

That is all the excitement for today, and I get to do gardening and soil sieving tomorrow, an activity that is always of interest to the perps.


Add -on;
Two guitar stalkings today, odd for how little I was out. An electric guitar bearing Fuckwit, sans case, on the street my mother lives on, some 200 meters from her place, passing by in her vehicle. Then a "just standing there" Fuckwit with a guitar on his back in the grounds of the hospital some 60' distant, staring at the trees from 4' away for crissakes. I haven't seen an electric guitar out of its case in public before, and only in the past four months did I encounter a case-less acoustic guitar packing gangstalker. I reckon the harmomics from the strings are what interests the perps, and they DO LOVE wires that are wound with more wire, like the steel strings and plumbing snakes.


Anonymous said...

Yeah, there must be something about the harmonic overtones from the strings, which is what sets acoustic and electric guitars apart. I determined that electric guitars have far less harmonic overtones than acoustic, which is what makes an electric sound "electric" in the first place. Basic Fourier theory.

I don't get guitar stalking around here, as the demographics aren't conducive. I have laptop carrying gangstalkers, and usually they are big on cue stick carrying shills (for pool/billiards). They are big on canes and wheelchairs. Their favorite is to place a wheelchair bound dude right at the entrance to a side street when I'm on foot. Usually I see these people in stores, though.

Most of the shills seem to be from the unemployed/vagrant/welfare sucking populations. Pretty much bums and losers. I also can't stand the sight of bag carrying gangstalkers; my internal reaction is "No, not another bag carrying loser."

You should ask these shills to play something; I'll bet they can't. They seemed to be big on guitar stalking (acoustic, electric, electric bass) back in the pre-overt years (2000-2003). I had encountered one fuckwit playing his violin in the stairwell of the library back in the very early nineties while in college. Universities will typically be more diverse in terms of musical inclined fuckwits; the perps hinted to me that they prefer "pure" instruments such as violins and cellos, and acoustic pianos. Piano stalking is big here.

I can understand why they prefer violins and cellos in their themes. Probably because the instruments are older, and maybe because they know I like to read musical scores (such as Mozart, Beethoven, and others). To this end, they sent Heavy Metal Screamer types to stalk me often, because they know I was big on Classical and still am to some extent. So the Screamer types would be an Unfavored in terms of music. I didn't think about the Unfavored in terms of musical styles, but it seems they play the unfavored/favored card in all walks of life. For example, a guy with a laptop and who is studying IT (favored) who smells really bad (unfavored). They do like to play with pleasant/unpleasant smelling people, and present themes based around these.

AJH said...

Answer to: Yeah, there must be something about...

Another two male guitar stalkers outside the local supermarket tonight (03-16-2010), with two more males loitering. This time one was playing and singing, serenading my entry into the store for crissakes.

I can see the perps prefering acoustic instruments like violins and pianos as the wood also resonates along with the strings. My yoga mat location is next to a piano with a brown canvas cover on it. No coincidence I am sure.

The Fuckwits have been big on making sure I smell the males as well as see them packed around me. Naturally this is highly variable with colognes, sweat persistence and personal cleanliness, though of course, they make sure that I smell them by shooting the smell up my nose when ordinarily, pre-overt/bserk days, I would have to be much closer. Thanks for the comments.

Anonymous said...

Now that you mention it, there was a time back in 2006 where a trio of these kids, ranging in age from 18-26, were in this little "band". And when I walked past them, the one dude had a guitar, and they all kind of "accompanied me" for a little piece of my walk, about 0.2mi, and were singing and playing while walking next to me. Really bizarre. I had no choice but to sing "with" them.

Anonymous said...

Then last night (3/26), got a "hardass" type. This guy was kind of bragging about his weight, as in, "yeah man, I weigh between 210 and 215". Like I'm supposed to give a sh*t, but this guy was really putting on the "big jerk" act. Yeah, he was so "big".

AJH said...

Answer to: Now that you mention it...

I would of freaked out if a travelling band "accompanied" me for any distance more than 10'. Exactly what I would of done I am not sure, maybe even running away. Thanks for the comments.

AJH said...

Answer to: Then last night...

Bragging about weighing 210+ lb? Absurd or what? Or too stupid to be funny? Don't know. I call these coarse male braggarts the yobos, sometimes shortened by UK newspapers to "yobs". Of late I have been getting a lot of male gangstalkers, and some are dressed like yobos, but are usually well behaved and unassuming. I suppose I get the visual without the verbal of this particular demographic. Thanks for your comments.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, I was laughing at various random times last night when I thought about that. Imagine bragging about "being big" in terms of weighing a lot. I used to get guys doing this all the time. The one guy I worked with in '98 bragged that he weighed 285, and one of my students last year bragged about weighing 265. But, oh wait, he said he looked pretty good considering his weight. He also showed me the big stomach and "man boobs" during class while the girl next to him called him "fat".

Anonymous said...

I guess I tolerate far more abuse than most TI's. I still try to avoid the fuckwits, especially when it's obvious they are operatives. There are so many of them it isn't even funny. Mostly the perps try to fashion the gangstalking and harassment I get as behavior modification. Mostly, it seems like they are trying to control. They have hinted that they have certain aspects of my life "planned out" for me. What they "pass on" to me is that they have a number of "plans" for my life. I guess which plan they use depends on my level of tolerance and compliance. I expect though that they will vary the abuse in direct proportion to how resistant I am to their control tactics, and also depending on how much abuse is "getting through" to me.

I can see where a lot of their abuse is probably computer-guided, though I'm sure they can "adjust" the abuse level the computer program is meting out. I've found that I can't talk about some of the things they do, as it would mean more trouble for me.

AJH said...

Answer to: I guess I tolerate...

Toleration is a perp controlled action and behavior I have come to know. If you are a tolerant person, they will likely manage you from this baseline. If one is more spooked (as it has evolved since they went overt-beserk in 2002 on me), they manage around this new reality. I am sure the perps have all this quantified in some way, on a computer as you suggest, and manage each TI for certain levels of irate-ness, and for how many in a given time duration. As for future plans for me, I get a few very consistent plans made known for me, and it has been this way for some six of the eight years of overt-beserk harassment. I won't get into them here, but I always make it very plain; they are gone for good or else I will be at the first opportunity. Naturally, my perps don't accept this, but I don't care, it is the way it will be; self determination or no self. Thanks for the comments.