Monday, April 12, 2010

Zap Attack Redux

I thought the zappings were over, as the line was that they were to elicit subconscious traumatization responses originating from such treatment during the memory deletion years, 1956 to 1959, aged 2 to 5 y.o. And for at least a year this seemed to be the case, or at least, until two nights ago. Last night and the night before, the drill is the same; awakening to dude talk (male talk tone, no word distinction) at about 0200h to 0400h in the morning, have the concrete ceiling get clunked and thumped simultaneously with a full body zapping. More last night, some six zappings in ten minutes with the simultaneous noise, followed by me yelling at them. And have I said how much I fucking loathe being zapped, a momentary total body pulse travelling through one, bordering on incapacitation? Not recently, but let it be said the day I deal with the assholes who pull this stunt off will be the day that the fuckers will cease to exist and will represent yet more of the train of dead bodies we see on the news at any given moment.

It was bad enough being awakened for totally nothing except the sonorous dude chat, something I never hear during the daytime as there are no real neighbors in this building, it is too irradiated for anyone but those who have been prepared like I have been, with masers coming of me at someone's behest, any body location, any time. That happened two nights ago, two or three times in the night, being awakened by some Fuckwit all to hear their prerecorded male voice tone games, and perhaps one zapping. Last night, they extended this Fuckover stunt to go heavy on the zappings with a prior similar dude voice ramp up. There is no way I would of woken up to this low level noise in pre-overt/beserk harassment days, as it wasn't loud enough to awaken me. But as  I now awaken according to the Fuckover script, I can only assume it is the assholes at work, and with concrete floors/ceilings (12" thick) being pounded at the same time as being zapped, I can only assume they are up to their usual "shake and bake" inanities in the name of remotely applied neural energetics research, still rounding on my brainstem area. And it would seem, still attempting to get through the vagaries/noise of the energetics of ubiquitous pollutants they also put into place in the mistaken notion that it was of some benefit when they started that line of research in 1954. Now that they have polar bears with elevated PFOA levels, it is long overdue for the perpetrators to come out of the closet and stop using the world as a chemical soup for their mendacious skulking. Enough conspiracy talk for now, though I suspect most TI's have already come to similar conclusions, and it is just that we don't get to influence anyone else out there as we are kept isolated and come from a very strange set of circumstances. And if the abductee community cannot get any respect for over 50 years, I don't see that TI's will get any further.

Six job applications submitted last night, and not even an auto reply among th the lot. Same old, sickos at work.

Other perp jerkarounds are that they had me, or else they arranged it themselves, put the frozen bread loaf into the plastic bag backwards to the way it was when first opened, continuing yesterday's frozen bread fuckover games. Then after lunch, they had me put the bowl where the side plates go, and vice versa, another one for mindfucking me out of routines I could do in my sleep, but aren't allowed to do when in the kitchen. So here we are, closing in on eight years of targeted abuse and harassment, and this is the level of juvenility they aspire to. And it is a fair clue as to where they have taken this nonconsensual human experimentation. Not even at 100% mind control yet, given their pounding of the floors and ceilings, per above. And to take the cake, that isn't the half of their agenda.

And it is now over a week since they lined the hallways with plastic as part of a drop cloth for painting, and have they painted anywhere on this floor? Just the laundry room one day ahead of me using the washing and dryer machines in the room, and splattering while paint around each of the elevator entrances, including the plastic on the floor. This has to be the most bozo paint job I have seen ever, and it has hardly begun. Its all about having me walk on plastic for them, as if it hasn't been done for the decades I fixed up houses and leaky vapor barriers. Give me a break.

Taken 04-09-2010, and it is still there, with the visible carpet trim at the base of the wall now covered in brown paper and the same sick green masking tape, and it the first thing I step on when I exit my apartment.

 You get the idea; brown upon brown, poly plastic covering it, seeming to be a both a brown combination test as well as the plastic they like so much to have me exposed to. Which suggests all those marks of the floor pattern have some kind of registry as I walk on them, presumably to aid in further neural intrusions. Or at least, that is my explanation, as this must of been well thought out for them to keep me close to three years, not to mention digging up the streets to reveal the sewer pipes. 

And more of the promise and prevent games before logging onto this Windows PC. (I can swap the drive out and boot up into Linux, which is where I do my Oracle database studying). The installation instructions went missing, and then a sudden demotivation to do anything came on, and so I shut it down and rebooted in Windows after swapping the boot drive. Not long ago I was suddenly motivated to purchase the Self Test software to help study for the Oracle exams, and then it followed that I couldn't get the Oracle SQLPLUS downloaded as the link went missing for both variants. I have no idea where this more strategic material is going vis a vis me, but it seems deep enough to be more than a year's worth of a fuckery platform. Just what I needed to hear, along with the noises that strangely get through the earmuffs I seem to be wearing more often. I even see ambulatory gangstalking Fuckwits wearing red plastic earmuffs outside now, in the drive to appear stupider. They let/made me obtain earmuffs that were black with a line of red in them back in 2003, but they didn't last more than three weeks when one of the earmuff mounts self-destructed and make them useless. After that, only deep green colored ones were allowed, which is what I am presently wearing.

 And what is the deal with UPS that they don't supply a tracking number when one sends a parcel via them? Is this normal, or is it a "special for me" event, to have me dig out the yellow paper a week later and phone them for a tracking number? And helping this out, the WD RMA people have been good about sending messages as to sending items, but somehow didn't bother when they recieved the hard drive from me. There is a deadline for an RMA return, and as I hadn't heard, and as I didn't have a tracking number, I had to phone the local UPS store to get it from them. Strange, but as I don't send parcels via UPS very often I don't know what their operating procedures are, but they have always struck me as an efficient operation, and don't overlook the details. Anyhow, at least it is an example of what is important to the perps, and that is digging out filed papers, be it a week, month or even years old. They just cannot get enough of this exercise.

And t it is becoming more apparent that the perps like to change the color of the alphabetic characters on this blog posting as I compose it. I see plenty of green colors in the text for some five seconds or so before they change back to black, and it "happens" to be the very same green in the above photos, the masking tape. Like WTF; I am now not allowed to see the alphabet in the normal font, but instead, I get this chromodynamic melange.

Last night after getting into bed, they played various colors in my eyes, which should of been seeing nothing but black, they put on a glow of all red, then all yellow, then all green, and changed it according to the planted theme I had in mind.

This looks to be a full blown shut-in day, as there is no compelling reason to head out, as the shopping is done. This is another of those mysteries as to why they are so moved to keep me inside for one or two days a week. Which suggests they aren't ready for me to do a full time job if they want to keep this nonsense going.

A listen to music over this interweb; now punctuated by a morse code like signal beeping through the headphones. I lwas listening to "Mendicino" by Kate and Anna MdGarrigle, one of my most favorite songs, and my in-town brother phones just as it ends. We banter for some five minutes and then he has to go because he was at work. I play another song of theirs, which was supposed to be different, and lo, if it wasn't a different version of "Mendicino". Three earthly angels on that link, the McGarrigles and Karen Matheson; enjoy.

More youtube infatuations, and then the popping noise started up in the headphones, and it was my mindkeepers that music time was over. Not that I expect speakers would make any difference.

An all round dull day, and it is time to put it to rest.

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