Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Enragement Continuity

A rousing round of insane abuse last night, after the blog posting. I haven't had one of these since 2006 before they suddenly stopped, though with slow incremental buildup since, culminating in last night's rage-ification event that is repeating again this morning, partially over the same causes. They got me started around 2330h, when I began to look at the backups and found they were getting sabotaged; wrong source, wrong destination, wrong disk, and spewing data into operational directories. That was cause for getting rage-ified as this was all set up with due caution a week ago, and somehow I "forgot" to look at the backup logs. Or at least, the ones I did look at, were OK, but "failed" to notice that the other ones weren't. This follows the sabotage of Windows 7 backup utility, and I found something comparable, though clunky. And the Windows (file) Explorer is total garbage, especially the Windows 7 version with the directories leaping up and down the page on the left, not to mention the barely discernable graphics of which directory is selected, or at least, on this version of it, har, har.

Then at 0040h, in a highly unusual event, two craps in a night which never happened ever until they went overt/beserk in 04-2002, they had me take another crap, just when I thought that all had been purged at 2100h earlier. So... same deal; toilet backup, plunging, clean the plunger, and then a shower to clean up. But of course mere perfunctory abuse wasn't good enough, so they cranked me up over the fact that I haven't been able to take a shit for over eight years without a 99% chance of some fuckover stunt or combination of them, and broke the top off the Deep Clean when I put it down, wouldn't let me throw it in the garbage but missed by 1/2", dumped the dental floss on the toilet tank again (just "hangs" as if self sticking, dangling over the garbage can), and gratuitously wacked me in the dick when there was so ostensible cause such as the towel when drying myself, made extra noises to piss me off, flashed plasma light at me to piss me off, and generally wound me into a state of high rage. But that wasn't enough, because when in bed they kept me up for an hour with head flipping, outside vehicle noise, and dude talk that erupted for half an hour. They also kept jamming me with planted thoughts, having them skip from one theme to another every 20 seconds or so, totally unlike me and especially at that time of night, and kept at it for at least an hour.

They finally let me sleep, but not without rest, as a series of extra vivid dreams about software development came on, interposed with strange events about backcountry hiking and perilous trails and bridges, and finally got me up at 0600h. Then plenty of extra noise and fuckery to step up the rage-ification level within 5 seconds of getting up, and then kept up the rage-ifcation through breakfast. And lo, if they didn't revisit the backup sabotage as I now "discover" (read, pre-scripted event) that the Quicken install has been sabotaged along with extra backup files spawned all over the place, and I have no idea where I can back this up. This was accompanied by more rage-ification over what in the fuck was going on, and why they have fucked it when it was fully functional, and then they wouldn't let me solve the problem either, all to extend their insane obsession over fucking me doing backups. After years of being too casual about it, I am finally allowed to back the files up, and then this becomes a long running Fuckover scene, playing over 15 episodes and still counting. They won't even allow the Windows 7 backup utility to work, I get to use some clunky freeware that is functional. Does anyone out there know of a highly usable, robust and highly capable file manager software, even if one has to pay for it? Think Ultraedit completeness and quality and usability for file management; (It doesn't exist, as they had me look last night).

Other bullshit that got long running mind share, as in planted thoughts, was yesterday when my mother was talking about indeterminate future residence at a care home. Then she added something vague about me living at the house instead, keeping it in the family, and that I might want to "share it with somebody". Like WTF; who could possibly be this "somebody"? That became the platform for planting rabid thoughts for the rest of the four hours there as to who this somebody was, and that it was a she, and that she might start out as a room mate and graduate onto more matrimonial role. No, and no; I have the hounds of extreme hell on my ass 24x7, I have no job only a disability income (har, har), and am 55 (now), and I have no ambition to mate with anyone, and want to be left alone. As part of this fucking bullshit, there is a suggestion, again by planted thoughts, that this somebody will be substantially younger; no, and no again. And to grind my ass all the more, the local paper section led with a woman (about 35 or so, not a really young thing), pictured in a wedding gown and an article about wedding dress choice and ceremony particulars which I didn't read. But as there is so much bullshit going down over events that never come to pass, this too is very much circumspect. The sickos don't get it; no criminals in my life, and leave me alone so I can work a legit job and be appropriately compensated.

And to grind my ass all the more, the sports section of the paper, led with a half page picture of a Kenyan negro winner of the local 10km race two days ago. And of course, they fucked me into "forgetting" that these pictorial boobytraps (pardon the pun) were on the front of the sections to make sure I saw them each at least twice more. Picking up a newspaper these days is getting absurd, avoiding the Unfavored Freaks that seem to be arranged at every turn. Needless to day, web pages are more fraught, but at least I can Adblock them for the most part.

Back  from another fraught gardening and PC shop visitation at or from the First Feral Family home. It had to be one of the biggest gangstalking parades ever; constantly arranged and color coordinated vehicles, and enough stupid action to beget a near constant commentary to myself in the vehicle. That goes way back; having me alone in the vehicle so I will talk more outloud, especially over the absurdities and insane arrangements. At one intersection they had nine white (one a double decker bus) or silver-grey vehicles in file in the lane next to me, and at least four more of that same two color (single greyscale) theme. And they even put on a tractor trailer flatbed of brown cardboard boxes in mid platform, hauling it nice and slow when outbound, and lo, if it wasn't pulled over at a road works delay on my way back. (Same route, but no road works when I was outbound, which shows that these "road works" with white vans, manhole covers pulled, Fuckwits and flag persons standing around, can erupt within 20 minutes or less, my return time at that location).

This was arranged for me when I took my mother's vehicle to the PC repair shop to retrieve it due to a SATA cable problem, apparently. Only a $70 tab for that exercise for crissakes, though it did include extensive hard drive testing time. And lo, if the white trades van wasn't in place in the parking lot, and then when I got in, two trades dudes in white were putzing around, one 10' up a ladder. Another fucker was at the desk for the whole time I was there, and I when I got out, one of the inside trades dudes just "happened" to be coming toward me. I can never get over how they must have the same gangstalker keep hounding me in all places of the building, front and back, inside and outside, under shelter and in shade and in sun; the temporal, lighting and locational juxtapositions are limitless, and yet they still keep at it. Whatever the "it" is, but it must be a huge prize, and eight years of this fucking insane abuse amounts to fuck all when they keep coming on 24x7.

This might be the first in-town trip in a vehicle since I gave my vehicle away to my daughter where I had two Fuckwits backing up in front of me, one in each direction. First was a light yellow VW Westphalia camper van, a favorite of the gangstalkers, backing up in mid-street making an egregious move to hold traffic up while he backed out of his driveway and across to the opposite lane even. Then one block further ahead, a white VW Westphalia van of the same kind pulls out to make a right turn to then have both Westphalias arranged side by side at the intersection ahead of me, one going left, the other straight, and me turning right. And, both had identical black roof pods on top. Never has camping season erupted so early in the year in this clown town.

More beam flashing tonight, all to accompany me finishing my review of file management utilities and logging off. Then off to the crapper again, but without the rage-ification Fuckover games of yesterday, and no plunging but a shower to clean up.

Other bullshit today that was played into mind at some length, though not quite as bad as yesterday, was this scenario of me moving into the vacated First Feral Family home, and getting a house mate that becomes a wife, per above And lo, if today's newspaper didn't have a half page on a specialized house sharing evaluation specialist to work out condo and house sharing agreements. I didn't read it, but it would be another artful piece of placement in the newspapers, yesterday's was a bridal article. The answer remains the same; no to moving to the FFF home, no any house mates, no to any criminal associations with shills, operatives or their ilk, and no to any matrimonial considerations. All I need is to be left alone, have a job, and be free from any fucking abuse, harassment or surveillance.

But they did play the angle in my mind as to what I would to improve the property if I moved there; get a dumpster and fill it up with all the things that are stored and never used, get the perimeter drains upgraded, (they even had me check out the feasibility so not to break up any concrete), get underground electrical and data services in and update the electrical panel, grade the backyard to one level, get the dumbshit 8' garage door converted to 10', and start to replace some of the ridiculous forest trees that are kept in hedge form. All that was playing as the SAC bombers passed over (or noise thereof, at least three), adjacent property lawnmowers were started up, and other noise was introduced. And after lunch when starting on some limited digging, the chuff noise of the purported cause, the recycle pickup service was initiated along with intermittent sirens. It sounded as if it was a distant sneezing sound more like, and they know I cannot stand loud sneeze noises. Which they tell me began in the womb, these predilections of noise adversity. So, what; just get the fuck out.

Other exciting action was getting back on the bus; they screwed me or my watch so I missed the intended bus by two minutes, seen from the hill I was descending, and the option is to wait on the other side of the road and get the counter cyclical bus, and lo, if I didn't miss it, coming one minute later. Off came a black dressed Fuckwit with two 5' high flattened cardboard boxes under his arm that faced me; like WTF, carry them in hand instead of tucking them under one's arm. And who in their right mind packs flattened boxes on the freaking bus? He is the second such curiousity in the last month, but I haven't seen it ever before in this town or any other. Bad enough when they have their kids with a brown box in their lap with some kind of Christmas presentation.

Then while expecting to wait at the bus stop longer for the passing surges of gangstalking vehicles (per usual set up when the buses are missed), especially the landscaping services with full trailers or boxes of leaves and lawn cuttings, another bus comes in, from a new and different route, and he would take me to the arterial crossing streets to get a connection. And lo, if I didn't get the #28 bus that I had missed, the second one, and one that I took twice last week. So it would seem they wanted me to get further along the #28 bus route before they wanted me to get on. And as it "happened", this new bus route was on the section of road that I drove each way earlier when on the PC retrieval mission.

And the city bus ride wasn't quite the crush or freakshow of yesterday, but they did put on a very black negro dude who sat motionless in the center of his seat behind the back door. This meant that the exiting gangstalker scum would pass in front of him, and it seems the perps are ramping up the negro interaction again, as it had been a little slack for the past week, thankfully I say from the generalized perspective of being hounded by all and sundry, and knowing it for sure when I see one. I suppose having a 10K race on the weekend and a visiting Africans as well was a big event to do their usual one in front of the other, then reversed, then pass someone in between and the rest of their insane stage follies.

More online schlepping tonight, and then some music listening. Thankfully the level of insane has abuse has dropped this evening; time to call this one done for today.

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