Friday, April 22, 2011

Convergence; the TI Version

Convergence is a term that was sometimes used like "information highway", meaning a general convergence of entertainment and communications devices into one device that does all of them, such as a computer, or iPhone. Though, in the case of TI's it is quite a different experience with gangstalkers coming at one from different directions and converging upon one. They might keep their social distance, or, one Fuckwit wil get too close. I had at least three physical gangstalker convergences upon me at the short visit to the local supermarket. And also, they "dress it up" some  by having some of the converging gangstalkers to be women, certainly less threatening. But I just cannot stand it, (read, getting mindfucked into this "reaction"), having all these Fuckwits clustered around me. Bad enough that I am singled out to be fucked with for nine years, but worse when they get in close and limit my options as to how to get out of the imposed predicament.

It was only a five minute exercise on a national holiday, Good Friday, and yet somehow this surfeit of Fuckwits is arranged for this short duration at the local supermarket. I had been looking and applying for jobs online just beforehand, and additionaly I was made to pee before leaving my apartment. They even put on the two-tone brown vehicle parked outside, an again, a two tone brown dressed woman ahead of me on the sidewalk passing the MIB and his hobbling act. Inside the supermarket had the doorway ditherers/blockers, skinhead males, the ever present stalking/stocking staff and their brown boxes, the dithering granny taking the entire aisle width with her motorized wheelchair, a negro and a few others from the Unfavored besides the convergence assholes.

And I suppose that it looks to be a kept day, where I am not headed out for anything, defering my First Feral Family yard maintainance duties for one more day of sunshine. Other exciting perp events are that I am wearing the olive drab colored shirt for the first time in three months, being confined to black and navy blue shirts. Another item the perps are testing me on is to not comb or brush my hair in the morning after my shower, and leaving it to air dry if reasonably formed. This has "happened" at least twice per week for the last three weeks, so it is a very exciting test for them for whatever reason. Another change to excite the perps was to be sleeping on fresh laundered bedsheets last night, always something to get a rise out of my insane keepers. And too, a nut shave last night, another reason for next day beserk perp behavior. The things they find exciting are just too absurd for words.

The outside noise has dropped some in the guise of being a statutory holiday. But what is with the motorcycle noise increase? They like to put the noise through my earmuffs, and have me take them off and plug my ears over this infernal noise. The perps' preoccupation with motorcycles also involves setting them up for me to see, and with no noise component. I haven't found any reference from the MKULTRA survivors as to what their abusers were doing with motorcycles at the time. If there are any reading this blog I would like to know.

References to skinheads, tattoos, aliens, ecclesiastic dress, clinical personnel, military garb, black vehicles and others have been found in other TI's stories in understanding why the perps are hounding me with these themes in mind. So far, nothing on motorcycles.

A forced nap at 1700h, that didn't really offer much sleep, just a run of some 15 loud mufflered vehicle over the 45 min. of napping, and having me plug my ears, more on the L side than the R side for some reason. As per past late afternoon nap attacks, I am chilled enough to put on a olive drab colored sweater. Then dinner time, and making salad for the first time in two weeks, always a contentious food item. And in keeping with having new things together, it was a new bag of salad mix and a new bottle of vinagrette. There seems to be a battle going on with my choice of vinagrette, and they even soured the last bottle to make it unpleasant and to arrange this confluence of two new items in my salad making.

Then comes the grievous battle of eating salad, with it flipping off the fork, unbidden by my hand, even if the oil and vinagrette was evenly distributed. I don't know what the perps' problem is with me eating salad, but they go insane about it, and rage-ified me at least twice with their salad leaf hopping, and they also cause a din to erupt in my ears while screaming at the assholes. Apparently it is no longer enough to have food in my mouth while vocalizing my objections to their extra-conventional gravitic fuckery over salad eating.

And here is an excerpt from Dr. John C. Lilly's work, the Dyadic Cyclone, and his definition of the Earth Coincidence Control Office, aka E.C.C.O.

    "In ones life there can be peculiarly appropriate chains of related events that lead to consequences that are strongly desired. After such experiences, one wonders how such a series of events developed; sometimes there is a strong feeling that some intelligence (greater than ours) directed the course along certain lines which It/He/She was/is programming. Several years ago, I enunsiated a format for such concatenations of events, somewhat.

    "There exists a Cosmic Control Center (C.C.C.) with a Galactic substation called Galactic Coincidence Control (G.C.C.). Within which is the Solar System Control Unit (S.S.C.U.), within which is the Earth Coincidence Control Office (E.C.C.O.). The assignments of responsiblities from the top to the bottom of this system of control is by a set of regulations, which translated by E.C.C.O. for humans is somewhat as follows:"

To all humans
If you wish to control coincidences in your own life on the planet Earth, we will cooperate and determine those coincidences for you under the following conditions:
    1) You must know/assume/simulate our existence in ECCO
    2) You must be willing to accept our responsibility for control of your coincidences.
    3) You must exert your best capabilities for your susrvival programs and your own development as an advancing/advanced member of ECCO's earthside corps of controlled coincidence workers. You are expected to use your best intelligence in this service
    4) You are expected to expect the unexpected every minute, every hour of every day and of every night.
    5) You must be able to maintain conscious/thinking/ reasoning no matter what events we arrange to happen to you. Some of these events will seem catachlysmic/catastrophic/overwhelming: remember stay aware, no matter what happens/apparently happens to you.
    6) You are in our training program for life: there is no escape from it. We (not you ) control the long-term coincidences; you (not we) control the shorter-term coincidences by your own efforts.
    7) Your major mission on earth is to discover/create that which we do to control the long-term coincidence patterns: you are being trained on Earth to do this job.
    8) When your mission on planet Earth is completed, you will no longer be required to remain/return there.
    9) Remember the motto passed to us (from GCC via SSCU):
    "Cosmic Love is absolutelely Ruthless and Highly Indifferent: it teaches its lessons whether you like/dislike them or not."

(Excerpt from "The Dyadic Cyclone")

I  am quite sure that most TI's accept the presence of ECCO, knowing that their coincidences are managed to a point they are obviously aren't. Though I think the last statement about Cosmic Love "...teaches its lessons..." isn't quite in keeping with what really is transpiring. Rewritten, " is plain and unrepentant abusive admininstration of selective adversity...", more for TI's than for covertly covered victims or others who migh be actually free of any coverage. A one page link of a short profile of Dr. John C. Lilly here.

I am getting beamed again, as the evening sun angle is sufficient to become the putative source of a faux reflection that is aimed exactly at this apartment from the adjacent residential tower. Mind you, there are three residential towers that exhibit this property, but the closest one has the strongest beam. Not forgetting that the 2011 inaugural beam of yesterday was accompanied by a phone call (read, EMF at one's ear and head) from the in-town brother with his meandering call and that the beam started strobing, also uncharacteristic of a reflection.

Evening tea-time and chocolate are over, and I was accompanied by water usage noise from the N. neighbor apartment, putatively. These ridiculous on/offs of a supposed kitchen faucet, and then they repeat again, though fainter, from the bathroom with me seated at the same location. All this insane fuckery because I don't like the color brown, likely abetted by abuses of a degree for which they deleted my recall, all of it nearly, when aged 2 to 5. Though, there could be other recall deletions of a shorter duration in my primary grades; I found report cards for grade 1 and 2, with 16 and 17 missed days respectively. Apart from a week in the latter grade due to a horrid cold, I have no idea what happened to me for all those absences. [Now the siren cascade has started up with overhead clunking, both getting through my earmuffs].

Interupting me sending off resumes for job postings this afternoon seemed a big deal, as that was when I had the motivation to do some grocery shopping. I got right back to after the groceries and the subsequent tea-time. I look at the some 30 jobs I have applied for and wonder what is going on that I don't get a phone call. I got three possible types of gigs; IT, farm labor and forestry work. And zip. But given the extensive planning and arrangement that goes on with the few jobs I get, one can be sure that the perps needs come first. There are only freaks in farm work jobs, so their habit has been to keep me there for the past three years. Cannot have me being freak-free, can we now?

And this work obstruction has also been arranged to keep me broke, as I see my bank balance is slipped to two digit figures now, though only momentary as the disability income will come through next week before the end of the month. It was payment of my income tax that wiped me out this month. Thankfully, some had already been paid as I went, but given my mother's excessive mention of "income tax", usually misused, I suspect this is a term/concept of significant perp interest, as is all financial transactions of all kinds; check, bus fare, debit card, cash payments (few) and the like.

I just got zapped as a door slammed from the hallway. And have I mentioned how much I like getting zapped on this blog? Enough to ensure that final forms of retribution will be reserved for any asshole having anything to do with zapping me at any stage in my life, which includes the present Abuse Central and its nine years of this insane fuckery. Over what? That I don't like brown, red and yellow and the entire cast of characters/archetypes that inhabit the Favored and Unfavored, as listed in the linked blog posting to the right side. Not my problem, so what is this abusive insanity and why cannot the Fuckwits show up in person instead of this disability nonsense? I am being hounded over memories of past abuse infliction that I have no conscious recall for crissakes. How arcane and perverse is that?

More job perusing, and wondering what might be the next gig. We shall see if this oil and gas drilling laborer notion has any merit. At various times the perps have had me cranked up to be a fork lift operator and a heavy equipment operator as well. Expensive training in the latter case, as it can easily run $10k or more. After the hassle to get $3550 for a training grant in 2009, I don't need to go there again.

Time to blog off and call this one done; not a shut-in day, but a healthy reminder that the perps need to replay converging Fuckwits upon me, just a little more obvious today.

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