Monday, October 17, 2011

Carrots and Potatoes

A Tuesday, and farm work was mainly inside due to rain and seasonal workload.

It was carrot bagging, then potato washing outside sending packed potatoes back through, then back inside to manage the cardboard packing boxes. A lunchtime trip to UPS to get parcel using the throbbing mufflered crew van, and bringing on a huge amount of vehicular gangstalking, color arranged. The parcel had a new pair of breathable fabric rainpaints in it, and I opened it up to try them for briefly, then hung them up. It is always a big perp moment when I put on clothes, especially briefly, and especially new ones out of the brown cardboard box. The two Mexicans were beside me with additional victim touring by the Asian and Punjabis some 10' away. Not to worry, the unused rainpaints are now hanging up at the front door so everyone will pass them by every day. This is a rare first, recieving a new garment at work and leaving it there while the other two items in the parcel were taken home

A leg shave last night, the first i two weeks, an unusual delay of a week, seeming for the all-important event of me using a Wilkinson Sword razor blade, a disposable 3 bladed head. Major concurrent hallway noise while shaving, this being a huge perp event.

On the farm, carrot bagging inside, picking raspberries outside, then a shovelling and raking gravel job, the crush kind, not round edged river run. As always, the perps have an intense interest in me being exposed to soils, gravels, sand and rocks from other locations, and this is all part of their fun. This area was being readied for a children's railway ride, a small circuit of no more than 60' long.

Another impossible 30+ passengers on the bus at 1838h, headed into downtown. A three negro event, one being the bus driver, the third time he has showed up on my evening bus runs, at differing times. Then this one negro sat one seat away while I was on the rear bench seat, and then a few minutes later and for no reason whatsoever, the Fuckwit sits next to me. Then about two minutes later he moves again, this time away, and is sitting on a portion of each seat. All the time he has this backpack on and leans forward in the "crapping pose" I have come to know from many other Fuckwits in my proximity. Totally bizarre behavior to say the least, and from whom does he get his direction and how? Well, after seeing many of these similar bizarre eruptions, I have come to conclude the perps are sending text messages directly to their visual cortex, and the gangstalker reads them and acts according to the instruction. It cannot be a coincidence that so many of them are looking upward for no apparent reason and then change their posture, postion or whateve their masters command. All the more silly, as these quislings are led to believe they are special, and too, their behavior can be altered without their knowledge if the perps chose to do so, and also, there is direct voice to skull technologies that have been around for decades. I have sometimes recieved an unequivocal "voice" that is speaking to me about something relevant and germane to the present circumstances. Fortuneately I don't recieve these transmission routinely, or as an abusive treatment as many other TI's complain about.

Getting my fill of orange colors today; bagging 5lb of carrots in plastic bags in the morning, then another hour or so after lunch, and then picking pumpkins in the afternoon. The flatbed trucks drive on the field, and we farmworkers, including three Mexicans, throw them up to the waiting worker who puts them into bins. I was in both roles, pitcher and catcher. Lots of pallet play time too, another perps obsession, as nearly everything arrives by pallet, and it seems the perps want to get a handle on the pallet wood to loaded objects/foods interaction energetics. I cannot count the times they drive pallet loads around me in vehicles, almost as many as the ladders I get from Ladder Patrol.

Other big perp advances were to let me use a knife to spread the coconut butter and jam on the breakfast 6" tortilla. I had been putting them down with a spoon in a blob on the tortilla, and then folding it up to contain it while eating it. This latest "advance" changes  the game some, as I spread the coconut butter, then the jam on top of it and roll it up to eat, hoping nothing leaks out the end. (No such luck; a blob of coconut butter came firing out two mornings in sucession.) This means no folding, which was a major problem with the gluten free organic corn tortillas, as they would break at the fold. I had been using gluten wheat tortillas as this was the only kind that could take the folding and not split along the fold line. And for at least the past 10 months this had been the system, and smaller foldable non-gluten tortillas could never be found in the grocery store. The closest I came were large format rice tortillas which could take being folded. Another major change in the "breakfast cuisine ecology", and it took almost a whole year to be allowed to change it. The addition of a knife to spread the coconut butter is a HUGE DEAL for the perps, allowing extra contact from a steel object. And have I mentioned how beserk they are over knife contact, e.g. cutting food with a knife? Hundreds of times in the past 9 years of this insane abuse.

Keeping yesterday's orange and red color themes going, it was bagging carrots till noon, then picking raspberries, then picking strawberries, then out to yesterday's field to pick gourds, mostly orange in color, though some were yellow, or light green.

And what is it that drives the perps so often to have someone's shadow cast down on me? In the field, especially now with the low sun at 1600h and later, or even at lunch or coffee breaks. My coworkers have this unerring knack of standing around to block the sun and have a shadow cast down on me.

And what is with the bus service? Still some 30+ passengers on a reverse commute direction at 1800h. Yesterday was the same, except later, at 1900h, a Thursday no less.

A father-son dust up this morning, with the father looking to land punches even if his son broke his jaw last year in a similar bout. This time, there were two Mexicans and at least three other adult males intervening to prevent real damage to either party. This had been brewing for weeks, if not months, and the loathing is as palpable as it is mutual. At least they got it over with before the public arrived for the pumpkin festival.

I was on carrots bagging, then out in the field to pick gourds into the early afternoon, then I got the call to help out at the public event directing traffic and ensuring the miniture railway crossing was all clear when the train came. And lo, when I first started this vehicular traffic directing job, a farmworkers kid who had been on the stalk for the prior week, didn't arrive to hang around me for no reason and was sporting an orange hockey jersey. And lo, if he didn't join his father in the tractor cab of the hayrides that routinely passed me by, not wearing the jersey anymore. All for some kind of color concordance/testing I suppose, as I was decked out in a dayglo hi-viz vest for the afternoon.

A Monday, and a day off too, after working Sunday for four hours on parking at the farm festival that is going on for the three weekends prior to Halloween. (A corn maze, a miniture railway, hayrides, a haunted house and some other theme park like props, including a 20' high Cheops replicate). And as usual, it is a day of high harassment and relentless jerkarounds, both cognitively and orchestrated externalities. And a doctor appointment too, just to add to the perp excitement/disruption/fuckover demands.

And what is with service personnal being so grim and evasive today? The normally chipper and friendly counter person at Purolater was rather terse for no seeming reason. The saleswoman at Lee Valley tools was positively grim, then again the woman at the deli counter of the local food market. Then the doctor was putting on his best grimness for no seeming cause, more terse than ever for crissakes, and calls him a professional still. Was this some kind of "mood matching" after making me grim from the jerkarounds I got: went to two wineries to find someone in the vineyard operations to ask about a viticulture course program and its utility in their line of work and got skunked on both in finding anyone; closed and then "lost" due to imposed befuddlement.

There were all manner of provocations first thing this morning to get me severely riled up, probably due to the fact that I stayed at the First Feral Family house by myself, a rarity as my mother is away in the UK. The fact that the bedsheets and blankets are different colors is important to the perps, as is mattress composition, and who knows what else. That I am eating my usual breakfast that I have at my place while at the FFF house is also a new event, having purchased the food last weekend. And of course, the perps routinely like to have me transfer food from fridge to fridge, either direction, mine in this apartment (steel wire shelves) and that of the FFF house (glass shelves). As far as I can recall, no food has made a round trip between fridges, but I am sure this will "happen" before long.

The provocation intensity was way up this morning, as was my "reaction" of instant rage. Stunts like sending me to the wrong cupboard or drawer, burning the onions in the frypan (I have never, ever burned food in the kitchen before), not turning off the burner (a perp Fuckover classic, and a new event that erupted some 8 years ago), over 30 small dirt clods arriving by themselves to force a sweeping of the kitchen floor (a frequent perp event, though rarely to they have me sweep floors apart from a past janitorial job).

Anyhow, time to call this one a posting for the week and get myself off to bed to start farmwork in the morning.


Anonymous said...

When cells die, they probably give off radioactive emissions. I read that on Pravda, and they had this theory about how cells dying gives off radioactivity, and the radiation contained information about the cells themselves, so they can be preserved in some alternate dimension (e.g. "the afterlife"). Also, decomposition involves bacteria breaking down the cellular matter, and the reaction gives off energy in the form of heat. So I imagine cells dying in general are a huge interest to their research.

"Radioactive emissions from biological tissues at the moment of death seemingly give the thin body one final jolt, sending a person’s immortal soul into Outer Space. "

AJH said...

Answer to: When cells die...

Interesting research, though I am not so sure about the soul going into Outer Space. Maybe some kind of alternate dimension maybe.

There was an interesting moment when the perps had me pruning shrubs at my brother's place, and he was hanging around me, and had a squirrel in a trap-cage. What he did was fill a garbage can full of water and then drowned it. The moment he chose to do this was exactly when I was pruning a branch off a bush, some 6' away. I thought it was mighty curious that there was this animal and plant death/damage event at exactly the same moment. It ties together that the perps are looking for some kind of energetic commonality here, be they small X-ray bursts or some kind of psychic signature. Thanks for the comments.