Sunday, May 27, 2012

GMail Takedown

What is it about GMail that it is near totally obstructed and sabotaged? For the last two years I got blocked from setting up a GMail account because the squiggly letter (anti-spammer scraping) test always failed, even if I did have it right according the audio version. The  the outfit that sold me the 4G Android phone said I needed one and created it at the store. But because I have a Yahoo account as my primary account. GMail keeps turfing me out and says it will make the GMail account as my primary account. But as it "happened", I did get into my GMail account five days ago, and got my contacts from Yahoo (totally hopeless for managing contacts for the version that I get) and my old-time Sony Clie PDA. And so these contacts were ordered, sorted and grouped in GMail, and I still had some more work to do as some groups needed deletion (no contacts in them) and there was no group deletion feature on the online GMail version I get. Soo... for a few days at least, I could get my way around the clunky Google interface and fix up my contacts. Then two days ago, they logged me out, and lo, if they didn't put that obstructional page up again by making reference to my Yahoo account. I stumble into what seems to be a GMail login page, and it won't take my password. I am totally hooped now, as my contacts need to be downloaded to my Android phone and I cannot get into GMail from there either. And GMail has started another stunt, refusing my password, and in trying to recover, pulling dumbshit questions to authenticate me. Just another managed nightmare of near-total obstruction. I say "near-total", as they give me enough room to think GMail is working, and then have me build and consolidate my contacts list, and then block me again before I can send the contacts list to the Android environment where I have a hope of keeping it maintained.

And if online obstruction wasn't enough, the Post Office wouldn't take my change of address notice, "because" it was from a motel. No problem going to one, but not from one. Go figure. The woman at the PO was suggesting that the motel wouldn't be making up or applying the change notices to the mail. Of course they wouldn't like any house address. The mail gets re-directed by the postal people, no one else.

A major vehicular clusterfuck when going to the bank to deposit a paycheck. Longtime readers will know that the perps go totally beserk when I make a financial transaction, especially one that involves payment to me. And so it is with vehicles suddenly aggregating around me, and continuously, such that I dare not jaywalk. I cross the road at the 4 way stop, always a major pedestrian consideration given the FUD that erupts among the drivers, especially where the road is two lanes wide.

I see yesterday's and today's blogging got wiped out by the assholes. And they were saved in Blogspot prior to any PC shutdown. Today is Sunday, and one that I now have off, as past crop farming goes on day after day during the growing season. Viticulture is more ordered and scheduled.

No tanning in the sun today as it is overcast. So a salon tan, going in person to make a reservation as she wasn't answering the phone. A bald headed dude was loitering there, and at least 10 years older than the blonde babe at the desk. When I returned he was still there, and of course, when I exited.  A bona fide Fuckwit, doing the hang-about for no seeming reason because he wasn't doing much in the way of romantic interests.

A visit to a record store, and a bookstore across the street. I spent money at both, though from plans/intents formed some months or years ago. As always, financial transactions attract the Fuckwits. In the bookstore, a cripple act managed to stalk me before going to the cashier, and then when purchasing. Not to mention I ended up behind the cashier desk looking at the viticulture texts, where they "happened" to be kept.

Then to LD and this bum/vagrant act arrived noiselessly right behind me at the cashier. When I was allowed to notice I moved some to avoid this interpersonal space invasion, and the customer ahead of me found reason to look at me when there was no reason to, as I didn't say anything. When it was my turn at the cashier, the bum/vagrant act starts coughing, and continued through my debit card transaction. Like WTF; here he was buying orange pop and he should of been getting cough mixture. Just like my bookstore stalker, he was on a walker. I don't know what the perps' interest in walkers is, but they use them plenty often as some kind of prop to represent partial physical incapitance. Perhaps they don't have the same subconscious traumatization associations as wheelchairs of the 1950's do, when they wiped my recall when aged 2 to 5.

A national holiday in Canada today, the Queens Birthday, aka Victoria Day. It is her official birthday, not her real one. Get all that? Most just take the long weekend to get their holiday homes in order and plant their garden in the colder climes. The vehicular gangstalk and other perp hijinx were muted today, attempting to conform with the reduced holiday traffic. An emphasis on gangstalking pickups, especially the raised ones, getting near monster pickup size. I have no idea as to why the perps use pickups so much, sometimes five of five in a serial string, and four will be black, and one middle one they are attempting to hide at first will be red. Sure, one can put brown cardboard, lumber and garbage and other regular props in a pickup, but most often they are empty.

A variable task day on the vineyard; fertilizing the one year old infill vines, cleaning up the young vine protection devices, and doing shoot thinning at the head of the vine trunk. Not a lot of instruction on the latter task, so I am hoping it was done OK. The owners have family visiting, and one party is starting a cidery in conjunction with the planned winery. I don't know where this is going to all happen, save the two door garage with all manner of fermentation vessels and filters.

The perps pulled a light rainfall for the afternoon, but still flew their helicopters overhead, and one in sight when driving home. But, there is an airport within a mile or so, and a helicopter school there too, so I don't have a basis to state that they are out there for me. In past years when not near the airport, and often when I went outside, they had a helicopter pass over. The overflights of the STRATCOM aircraft were heard much of they day, though of course not seen for the cloud cover. All my life they have an unerring knack for flying them overhead, and all along I thought they were doing their duty in keeping nuclear delivery capability aloft. There is more to it than that in my experience, but I don't know of anyone who has a reasonable explanation for why they do this, spread contrails and their exotic patterns, and how this is connected to us violated shmo's (TI's) on the ground. The red plasma contrail of last week suggests a stronger connection. Also, I routinely get masers or plasma emanations from aircraft, especially if they have radar, as military aircraft has.

About two years ago, one of the Mexican farm laborers was heading back to Mexico in a few hours, and he stopped by the farm to say goodbye, even though he didn't speak English. He just hung around, and I wished him "bon voyage". About two hours later, a passenger jet was airborne from the nearby airport, and a pronounced maser came off the aircraft at me. Just speculating of course, but it could of been arranged to come off the Mexican, pass through the aircraft and right at me, as these things take a second or two to arrive, often with some meander in the maser as it comes at me, not a direct line. Anyhow, I get masers all day long, from patches on the road, from nowhere, from other vehicles, from cell phones, from soil exposures, off of Fuckwits and everywhere else. Nothing new, just much more than there once was.

The perps wanted a light rainfall load on the leaves of the vines as I was pulling some of them off the plant, thinning out their density as buds will burst forth from under the bark, and not just from the canes that we left in place and tied down. So the rain wetted leaves were thinned out by yours truly, this the soft green shoot phase still, and no bother to pluck from the vine. The perps put much emphasis on wetting things, and I routinely get wet spots arriving from nowhere, either on me when in the kitchen or bathroom or on the countertops.

Speaking of which, two nights ago they had me wake up at 0400h, have me drink cold green tea (an off yellow color) from the fridge even if I wasn't thirsty, and then have a pee. Some kind of color testing, in and out and within a minute of each other it seemed. There were also some voices from outside, speaking in a foreign European language. When I got up and after breakfast, I read the news and there is an earthquake in N. Italy, occuring at 0403h. Well, this bathroom and yellow color testing was at the same clock time locally, but they are nine hours ahead in Italy, so it wasn't at the same moment in real time. Anyhow, it leaves me curious as to what this awakening episode was about, when it didn't serve any apparent purpose, and they haven't awakened me in the night for a year at least.

A two CD Katie Melua purchase yesterday, getting my fix of female muses. The House has some interesting song titles; Tiny Alien being one song; like WTF, where would the inspiration come for this come from? Other obscure titles like Red Balloons, No Fear of Heights, A Moment of Madness etc. do make me wonder if this isn't all driven by the Thems.

Back from a day's toil in the vineyard, thinning green shoots all day, and still some to go tomorrow. On the way back I went to the Post Office to see if they would allow me to submit a mail re-direction request or not, as the sub-PO said I couldn't because it was a motel. Well so what? This time a dude instead of the dipshit over-dyed red hair woman at the sub-PO and he attempts to give me the line that the motel staff would be re-directing the mail. LIke WTF; and this time I challenged him and said the remaining residents of a move-out situation are not responsible for redirecting the mail ever, as the Post Office does this. Then he gives me some other BS, and finally admits it makes no sense. The dye-job woman at the sub-PO said the same, giving me the line that the motel would be changing the address. No, and No; the Post Office puts a yellow adhesive label on the front of the envelope with the new address, just like the US PO does for mail re-directions. So... two supposedly independent Post Office personnel on two different occasions and locations give me the same bullshit that the motel re-directs the mail when it is the Post Office. To get two culls to say the same thing that is totally incorrect when they are in a position to know better takes orchestration and scripting IMHO.

The TV in this motel room suddenly fritzed out yesterday while I was watching this dreamy babe on TV, a UK series called Fake or Fortune. So while having tea and having just consumed 100g of chocolate, the motel keeper comes with a new TV and I help him out, undoing and doing up connections. Off he goes with the old one, and lo, if the perps didn't screw me into "needing" to eat another 100g chocolate bar with my second cup of tea. Once done, and dishes too, I boot up this PC and it hangs and the second attempt it goes into Repair Mode boot up. Note that the TV and this PC are not connected by any wire, connection HDMI cable. So how did the PC "just "happen" to flake out in empathy with the TV being swapped? I don't know, but as always, these things are connected in the perp's minds and having someone arrive in mid-brown (chocolate) feed is important. Go figure.

Then this replacement TV has a cluster of pixels knocked out, in a 1/4" size or so, and at the bottom of the screen. And now that the Stanley Cup playoffs are on TV, why, said dead pixel cluster is the size of the puck when view 6' away and deliberately placed to be momentarily confused with the puck where the camera angle shows the rink with the edge at the bottom of the screen. When the perps assaulted me with noise, sights, teleportations, light flashes and other strange phenomenon in making themselves known to me in 04-2002, one of their "tricks" was to have two small blackish masers, like the size and trajectory of large houseflies, come together and then take a strange turn back the way they came.  I suppose the daily inundation of specks of lint, crumb and debris, and its momentary confusion with artfully placed same size and color pits, divots and imperfections on countertops is all part of this deranged interest of theirs, attempting to determine some energetic signature from the speck of debris as that on the countertop. Another of the Go Figure category of perp abuses/obsessions.

A day of planting grape vine plants, Pinot Noir from France no less. The perps like me to be planting plants and will often start their noise eruptions the instant I have finished the task. This time though, we have 250 plants to plant, and they are long ones which means a deeper hole, as the roots must also be straightened out in the hole. The perps also like me sowing seeds, a similar act, though in the past it has been mostly grass seed. My perp abetting mother is also getting in on the act, as some of the lawn patching failed at her place, and so she is re-seeding these patches, one by one.

And my farm worker colleague in Gangstalk City (Victoria, BC), Canada has finished her 9 month horticulture course and been outed from two lawn mowing jobs in the last month. And what is she going to do now? Why, working on a vineyard and planting vines. The coincidences never end, they get escalated.

And why is it that the perps arrange certain regular grocery stores to be out of specific items? The latest is cycling me to get my morningtime staple of yogurt from a third location. First WF was constantly out of 650g size Olympic Krema, and then I got it at QF for about a month. Now, both are out as of yesterday, and I had to go to a SOF. And lo, if two gangstalkers didn't converge on me when I picked it up on the shelf, having to extend my arm at full length; a woman stands 4' away "waiting" for me, and a dude also comes down the aisle to follow me to the cashier. Then extra putzing at the cashier to become a member, and lo, if I didn't get an extra $3 back for joining. Considering I had $70 cash disappear from my wallet a few weeks ago, it is no compensation. I have had cards pilfered from my wallet in the night, so object teleportation abuses, theft and harassment is nothing new here. But why cannot I get my food from who I want, when I want instead of being jerked with all over town, by some sick depraved agency covertly testing the provenance of my groceries?

Then the mail order games go on; an outfit that sells wheels had flat-free wheelbarrow tires, and given the chronic deflated state of my perp-abetting mother's wheelbarrow tire, it was long overdue. And they said it was to come to Surrey and then shipped from there, but no, it ended up in Calgary, and I had to phone and explain what was going on. Then he was keen to ship it to me in Penticton BC, but I suggested it would be simpler to send it to my mother's place in Victoria and be done with it. And he said he would send me two quotes with the different shipping charges and I said that was fine. When I get the email I cannot open the version with the Victoria quote on it. So screw it, I fax my order to get it sent here. All timed for me to be flying to Victoria June 16, and having to take this infernal wheelbarrow tire with me on the flight. Then someone else from the wheel supplier also chimes in with an email and tells me to come pick the tire up, as if I am in Calgary, when I am plainly not. Like WTF; who arranges this nonstop gongshow around me?

The near weekly schedule of the next door neighbor doing soft rythmic banging on the wall, as if humping someone. The strange thing is, there never seems to be another involved party. Long time readers will know the perps often arrange sex acts in the next room, or nearby, and the most consistent reason I can find out is that there is a release of "orgone"/psychic/kundalini/etc. energy at orgasm, and while not in the same league as an electric motor starting up (EMF spike), it is all part of the perps' games in having biofield detectors/creators placed around me. See Wilheim Reich and orgone and orgasm energy if interested (here). He was a contemporary of Einstein, and when they met in the US, they had a very productive meeting about Reich's scientific results of orgone energy research, but after that, Einstein cut off any communication. More grist for the mill that we are living in a world of "stalled physics understanding", where there is a huge science knowledge gap between quantum forces and Newtonian forces (and electromagnetic forces too, say some), and there is no mainstream accepted theoretical construct to connect the two. Ergo, the Unity/Unified Field theorists, of which there are many, and most center on there being an energetic ether, not unlike the energy fields described in Chinese science and medicine. I could go on, but one can get the picture from online research.

And I see that the perps just terminated my Windows session and cost me the last five minutes of keyboarding more details of today's suntanning on the beach. They had me out in the sun for 2.5 hours before they parked a big cloud overhead. That and the abundant hot-rod and motorcycle noise, some 3 per minute, were a virtual repeat of my last outside tanning of two weeks ago. It seems this particular experiment has a two week cycle, as the weather has been so changeable all week there wasn't any expectation of getting any tan while in shorts on the vineyard. Last weekend was bad enough that I did a salon tan. The vitamin D and sunshine effects are an intense perp study component, as is moving in and out of shade and shadows between me and my gangstalkers.

Yoga yesterday, the first class in over a year, and the semi-hot kind. I survived OK, even if a parade of arranged class members came in at the last minute. One being the classic male gangstalker; long haired, under a ball cap, baggy shorts below the knees and wearing red. (Aka, the shiftless male). A pillar in the middle of the room makes for odd student placement in the class, though interesting, I was the only one with a E-W mat orientation, everyone else (about 10) stayed clear of me with their N-S orientation mats. The female instructor was super buff and super tanned as well as athletic. My vineyard co-worker was there, in her red hair (Unfavored) in a top bun, the latest in perp sponsored hair-wear, and even the blondes (Favored) are doing this too now. So it would seem that the female top bun hair is also an Unfavored feature. Strange hair for males, long, ponytailed or otherwise is always Unfavored. Who knows what they did to me in the 1950's, and maybe 1960's to now have me with subconscious tramatization associations they are still looking to resolve, i.e., apply remotely applied brain-retraining to remove these associations.

Another day of intense HD motorcycle noise, designed it would seem to noise pattern me at the beach for two hours and then again while inside and attempting to view a movie. The wretched noise got so invasive I had to give up the movie, about an hour into it. So much for freedom, as movies have been highly restricted since 2005. Having me watch a partial movie is just what the perps like doing, and for that matter, partially reading books and the like. They cannot get enough of protracting completion or not completing tasks at all.

Time to post this lest I get another PC shutdown or else an internet access obstruction like all of last evening. 

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