Saturday, July 07, 2012

Volvo Modfications

A laid back Sunday day off, and only until now (1530h) do I feel at a loose end. I got taken down almost immediately after lunch for a two hour nap-attack. I didn't need the sleep at all, but for some reason they wanted me prone and sleeping. And some will say, more psychically accessible too. Could well be as the perps like to time other's in my proximity to having naps.

And then there is the Volvo nonsense witnessed for the second time this week. An 850 sedan was hit from behind and underneath, possibly from a lower bumper, and dented the trunk and raised it up about 3" to 5". They put it on show (parked) when I drive by each day on my way to work, arranging it in profile, seen from the side with the raised (whole) rear trunk. Now it is no question I like the look of that Volvo model, sedan or wagon, and I would of bought one if I could of found one the time I was vehicle shopping in April. But it wasn't to be, a mid-grey Toyota Camry instead and it has done me well so far. Said damaged Volvo was on the vehicular gangstalking circuit this morning when I was headed off for shopping, driveable with its rear trunk damage. All I can assume from this arranged nonsense is that they wanted me to see this particular vehicle with its rear end misaligned, and the whole rear body line out of whack. As for why, I don't know, but the perps consistently test my vehicle form/look reactions, and when a vehicle looks attractive and when not. Of course there are no end of variations, as vehicle models change from year to year, and it does seem they focus on rear end looks of late (the last year). Anyhow, there isn't a Vovlo dealer in town, and not many of them, so it just seems to be this sideline that the perps persist in for whatever reason.

I went to yoga this morning, a drop-in class, and I see they are populating it with more dudes, now four from a previous one. The usual heavy breathing/wheezing dude wasn't in class, but strangely he was walking past carrying his umbrella in the then-torrential rain. It is not uncommon for the perps to plant someone in close and have them progressively back off. I his case it was next to me in the first class, half a room away in the second class, a whole room away in the third, and now, this fourth time, he only passed by the building when I "happened' to arrive.

A new blonde instructor today, in keeping with the perp's instructor swapping games. And the infernal tattos were on display; one particular horrid all-arm and partial torso tattoo on a woman was two persons away. The woman in between us was on partial blocking duty so I wouldn't see this disgusting tattoo in full. The to the L side, the woman next to me had some smaller inside arm tattoos, and a woman four mats away wore a shirt that looked like tattoo patterns (skin color, with deep blue markings on it). Again, we have the perps and their infinite abusive insanity pissing around and setting up tattoos, partially blocking them, and tattoo emulations. All because I don't care for tattoos, and whose business is that? My own one would think, but no, it is a ten year long insane abusive tyranny they have imposed to find ot why I loathe tattoos (among other things).

And speaking of loathings, aka the Unfavored, this one residential block of houses has sprang three HD motorcycles in the last week, all of them on show as some kind of prop the perps want me to see. I don't care for their noise one bit, but for the most part they are arranged for me to see. One overwrought chromed motorcycle, two houses away, was parked on the front yard this morning when I set off for yoga. Presumably it was there all night, as that is where it was last evening. And I know from motorcycle owners that its prominent display is essentially asking for it to be stolen as they are much coveted if in good condition, which this one is. And as the perps have also been insanely beserk over arranging motorcycles around me for over ten years, knowing I loathe the HD noise, why are they doing this? Perhaps if they allowed me to retain the deleted memories they did when aged 2 to 5 y.o., I might know. So on this national Canada Day holiday/long weekend, you are hearby informed that some citizens are not allowed to have recollections as to what abuses (I assume) were done to them. A free country, my ass. And or that matter, perhaps the world.

The new roomie is a 50+ y.o oversized woman doing an internet businesss directory for this city (apparently). And she has wasted no time in hanging around me in the kitchen, "happening" to be there at 0635h when I was there having breakfast. And again when I came back from yoga, the perps conveniently fucking me out of putting my laundry in the dryer before yoga and forcing another kitchen visit. Soo... nothing new there, per expectation.

A day of tucking shoots on the vineyard; just tucking, not other major work like thining them out, except for the obvious ones. And since then, the perps have been playing flashbacks of shoots in my visual field, about every ten seconds or so. And especially when screaming infuriated at the assholes preventing me from quartering the quesadilla I made for dinner. Not that it was audible, but they had me just as annoyed if I had.

I have been shoot tucking for the past three weeks and never had flashbacks of shoots to any degree until today. Perhaps it was the added harassment that they thought would be a synergistic screwover; read on.

And all day long, the perps played irritable bowel syndrome on me, creating various unpleasant sensations without any visible result. What a way to spend the Monday of a long weekend, equivalent to July 04 in the US. This was relieved at day end by being the "shit refugee" and unloading at the washrooms in the mall. The usual extra gangstalking activity around me, including some dipshit bag who almost piled into me when I was exiting. My "lead me there" gangstalker also "happened" to be ahead of me when I exited. No doubt shit resonance between me and the gangstalker assholes is very much part of the agenda. And too, having me eat extra chocolate these days.

The daily crumb inundation went over the top this morning. I get crumbs around me all the time, from a putative source, but far in excess of the conventional normal (before all this harassment began). The last roomie was a classic; he had toast most mornings and there were at least 50 crumbs around the toaster. He was engaged with a pissing match with the landlady, so he felt he didn't need to clean them up. And so the sat there all day until the landlady cleaned them up.

Today's crumb-fucking games took on a new turn, as they were teleported in just to bug me. I was at the sink, cleaning dishes and had just finished up when three orange carrot crumbs arrived from nowhere. They were aligned in one direction, roughly N-S, and spanned a length of 1.5". One crumb was on the yellow formica countertop, the middle crumb was on the exact location the steel kitchen sink flange met the countertop, and the third crumb was on the steel sink flange. So here we are, ten years into this insane relentless abuse, and the Fuckwits are arranging carrot crumbs by way of teleportational fuckery. Seemingly, this doesn't bother them one bit, to be viewed as totally idiotic rampaging juveniles with extra conventional powers.

Then the UPS imbroiglio/impasse took another turn; the local UPS store wouldn't take my parcel because it had COD charges on it. Like WTF; they have my parcel, and they would be charging me the COD charges when I pick it up, so what is the deal? I asked where it is and how can I pick it up and the woman UPS representative said she had no idea. I thought Loomis' non-service was outrageous, but this bullshit takes the cake.

And I see that UPS did deliver another separate parcel today, so maybe the perps needed me to go to the brown store to then "resonate with" (for lack of better term) brown cardboard at the UPS store. Or as a "warm up" for my visit to the UPS store tomorrrow, as they gave me the option to pay for the COD charge over the phone, which I did. Which begs the question, why didn't they tell me about this byzantine bureaucracy the first time I asked the parcel be re-directed to the local UPS store? And when I phoned the UPS store in advance of the parcel re-direction, why didn't they ask if there was COD charges on the parcel? All this erupted because the "hold for pickup" choice told me after the fact that the parcel would be held in another city 1.5 hours drive away. Just call it more parcel delivery obstruction, and it may be related to the "browning around" games that have gone on since the start of this abusive fuckery 04-2002.

And when will UPS finally get it, and not go through this ritualistic nonsense of delivering when I know I won't be there to accept it? Have an option when ordering items to permit hold for pickup instead of this constant nonsense of attempting delivery when it is in not doable. I just don't get it, save the "browning around" behavior directed by the perps. And it is always curious that I get extra parcel delivery van gangstalking after each time I recieve a parcel.

The coffee grounds mess on the stove got me cranked up, though not audibly out of respect(?) for the roommate situation here. I was spooning fresh grounds into the pot, and lo, if somehow, a two pea sized amount didn't self eject from the top of the spoonful and land on the stove. No hand movement of any kind contributed to this near-instant coffee mess, and no shakey hands either. Typically they will force my hand to move as the apparent cause of the coffee mess, but not this time. Just plain assed teleportational abuse.

Another day of tucking vines in the vineyard, just it, and no other activities like shoot thining, leaf removal, lateral removal and top clipping. The sun was out, and eventualy it became warm, though not too warm. We are due for a week of sunshine after a soggy June, running to July 03.

I suppose yesterday's rain was the culmination of perp games, as the rain forced me to use my raingear for the first time in a month, as it had come back from the drycleaner's five days ago, and we know how the perps like to piss with laundering and all its variants. Hopefully the summer will get to normal, though I not optomistic even if they pulled a bad summer last year in this region. Many of the red grape varietals never got picked because they didn't have sufficient sugar.

As a nice send off for the day, the perps ensured I ended up with dog shit on my L.boot, the first 2" toe portion. So another delay in departing, never mind getting the smell jammed up my nose.

Then the now-usual shit-at-the-mall on the way home, me as a shit refugee as they don't like me to do it at home. My shit-stalkers arrived either side of me while in the cubicles, plus other noises. This time I was lead there by two young girls in same blue t-shirt and black short shorts. Much better that the granny parade I seem to get.

More vine tucking today, and all day. All six acres has been tucked twice now. Sunshine in the am when I had my shirt off, but intermittent in the afternoon when I had my shorts on (shirt on again). Plenty of noise eruptions when I put on sunscreen as usual, and when changing clothes. Yesterday was cleaning day at the house, and at about 1000h when I went to put on shorts, why, egress to the bathroom was blocked by the very large cleaning lady. (Same one who was doing bend-over games about a month ago in similar circumstances). So where to change? Why, outside on the covered veranda area with a commanding view of Skaha Lake and the mountains behind.

And it was my very first day as a "iTune-out", one of those farmworkers (or any person) listening to personal music while working. After the weeks long pissing match to get FLAC files playing on my wretched Android phone, it has finally culminated in playing music while I work. These are over-the-headphones, and so some conflict with wearing a hat too, as yet unresolved. (Worse yet, I could wear a ball cap to have my ears accessible to the headphone. I loathe ear buds). IT wasn't as simple as that of course; two female vocalists were given short play, but the male blues-zydeco singer was given full album length play.  And the rotation order was messed up

The vineyard neighborhood noise has taken a new turn. The adjacent larger vineyard has had its equipment shack demolishined, two white shipping containers arranged at roadside for lockable storage, and they are busy putting in foundations and forms. In other words, the very common farm neighborhood noise I call "tap attacks" has semi-legitimate causal. This construction work is the putative reason, but each time I hear the 1x/second tap of a hammer I have to laugh, as what self-respecting builder would be so slow in hammering, and is still using a hammer when air nailers are the construction norm. Yes, I know a hammer can add the right amount of force to move an object (e.g. foundations), but the slow methodical once per second tapping noise has followed me for every farm I have worked in for the last five years. Most often there is no evident construction at all.

Still not out of the Android woods yet; the Songbird player started up by itself when the PowerAmp app was playing. Quite the feat, two music players sounding off at once.

And the essential fatty acids diet testing is still running; after over a month of taking four fish oil capsules at the first break, and four more at lunch, Mon. to Fri., why, the perps had me "forget" all about it when making up lunch this morning. No good habit goes unsabotaged, even if they groom on the habit in the first place.

Stinging eye torture while driving back, causing me to change my intinery. Instead of visiting UPS store to sort out their imposed imbroiglie, I went to the share house to take a shower. When turning off the highway they obliterated my vision for a few seconds and then some horrid indescribable brain scrambling irradiations while turning off the highway. They pulled this abuse sequence once before and all I can say is that is absolutely immobilizing, worse yet, while driving in traffic.

I am 58 today, and look younger than 38. Lines that formed when I was 33 y.o. are now gone. Most of the age regression was done in 2004, though they have been at it again in the last year.

A hot day on the vineyard, mostly sunny, and maybe summer has come at long last after a double average rainfall for June. I was doing more shoot tucking, putting the shoots between the trellis wires to contain them in a vertical plan. Also called the Vertical Shoot Positioning (VSP) training system, although it requires much human effort to get the shoots vertical, as they are prone to spill and flop in any direction.

I got to listen to music from my Android mostly without a problem, but there has been some unconventional player behavior to keep me wary that it can fuck up at any moment, e.g. getting a new album instead of the next song. Today I was playing the Eva Cassidy playlist I have, some 78 songs that kept me going for much the morning. The perp control drift is that they want me to listen for 2 to 3 hours but not the full work day. This afternoon without the player or headphones they applied the sensation that the headphones were on my head, but they weren't. In other words, they could remotely detect the particular sensation of this new headphone pair (less than a week old) when listening to music, and then replay this identical sensation later when they weren't on my head. All I had to do was to move my head quickly in a (seeming) random direction and the sensation diminished. Once my head was reasonably still again they re-applied this same headphone wearing sensation. A Happy birthday treat from the Psychopathic Confederacy.

Other perp applied BS was to keep me in a depressive state for much of today, and it is still going on. The games of promoting a certain product to purchase and then not finding it continues. For 2.5 years they have on this breakfast diet of coconut butter, which is delicious and beats out the rest of the nut butters combined. Artisana coconut butter is the best IMO, and I have had it on hand all the time, even in this new town. But now two stores are out of it, one with no alternate coconut butter brands. How fucking tiresome they are not only setting me up for the dashed expectations game (item not there), but also manipulating the source of my food supply. Just the usual, and they are still at it in ten years of insane sustained abuse, and a prior 48 years of covert life-long fuckery. What is this all about?

Speaking of which, why are some TI's getting a reprieve from harassment, and even know how long this hiatus will last. I have had the odd reprieve, for a few hours, no more than six times in this wretched existence they have imposed.

I had about 15 helicopter and aircraft flybys today, a little more than usual. To be fair, there is the Penticton Airport two miles away, but at least three aircraft made pointless circles or arcs overhead. They seem to like it that the helicopter underbelly light is on and it "happens" to be seen by me in mid-turn. A small jet came and did a 180 degree turnoverhead and then took off in the direction it came. Most odd to say the least, and it appeared not to be landing at the airport, especially having just come from that direction.

Last week they must of teleported a small aircraft some 200m away; it came out from behind a rocky knoll, not more than 50m clearance, in a climb. The interesting part was pondering how it got there, as there is a powerline behind the knoll. The pilot either took exceptionally foolish chances to make this low pass, or else he and aircraft were teleported at the point of climbing out of this hole behind the knoll. I never heard it coming in behind the knoll, so that is why it was a teleportation job. I see teleported insects, debris, vine leaves and tendrils in front of me all day long, and for the most part I have no idea as to how they got there, or in my way. Or else, they are blanking me out at the moment the object conventionally flips/slides/hops into view, and it appears suddenly to my remotely impaired perception. In fact, I think they are doing some of each, and there is some essential cosmic energetic difference that they are looking for via controlling all my neural cognition.

A later get-up as it is Saturday, and no vineyard work today.  The perps had me tired and in a blue funk yesterday evening, so no plans as to what to do, save a haircut and leg wax this afternoon.

Birthday wishes via phone call from my Victoria farmworker colleague last night; the ever chipper and don't-want-to-know platitudes again. This is the only person who puts themself out to make sustained contact, and it is forced to say the least. There is no way the perps would allow continued contact to persist over 1.5 years without their blessing/collusion. And that starts the guessing games; is she for real (a co-opted local with the right things wrong with them), a scripted operative, or a morphed-over version of someone else I would know, say Ms. C from the story. And as usual, I don't know, and don't care but am not allowed to have the luxury of independent thought, and this wretched unresolvable topic comes up far more than it would if I weren't in the grasp of the techno-Fourth Reich.

Laundry coincidences again; the downstairs tenant has moved out and his bedsheets were laundered by the landlady and draped over the garden chairs in the backyard to dry. And it just happens to be the day that I launder my bedsheets for the first time in this shared residence. And no less, is the inaugural use of a new laundry detergent, somehow "needing" to move away from the usual Woolite.

The haircut and full leg wax treatment again. This time the wax from two blondes; the one last time with a faint-ish unnatural red streak was updated with a 2" wide bold red swath to the roots. The other a seeming trainee was a yellow straw blonde.

The one who cut my hair was a reddish-brown with silver foil in her hair, as part of a treatment she was doing. I have seen it before, but cannot claim to know what it is for. Then three identical colored, sized and built negroes were on the other side of the hair cutting station. First there was one, and he did a pose through the divider in a grey singlet and shorts, and within a minute he seemed to be wearing a yellow top. Unexpected clothing changes aren't anything new to me, and that is what I thought it was. But no, within a minute it was revealed that there were two, with the same hair. Later another same negro "happens" to end up in the pose mode, this time with dreads. The way it seemed it was a triple negro haircut show at the same station. Later, while in the waxing area, they were doing restless full store-width walks for whatever reason. They were there for 40 min. or so, until the three of them walked out in file, identically sized and built, even more than brothers. As to who and why this negro show was arranged I have no idea, but as they are extremely rare here, and were all the same sized and height, I can only assume this was arranged for me to see their colorful outfits at various distances and also through the semi-transparent curtain of the waxing area.

And lo, when I exited the building after my waxing, why, another negro standing around on the sidewalk and looking stupid, as would any highly conspicuous gangstalker. Maybe it was for daylit conditions, and he in the shade of an awning of an abandoned building.

Enough of the Unfavored and and the ridiculous show that continues around me seeming to invoke abreactions that may have arisen in the memory blanked years, aged two to five. Not my problem if I have subconscious recall reactions to adverse treatment and abuse. As mentioned many times, the Indian Lake Project has pictures of children stuffed in cages, some negro, some blind, some Caucasian. The timing of this abuse at the hands of military personnel fits the same memory blanked years, so who knows, but the Perps, aka, Fourth Reich. Not until more of the pics are posted can I hope to know, and that could be a long time yet, given the owner is under surveillance with the black helicopter visitation and a dead rat on his newspaper outside the front door.

So to post this now.


Apocalypto said...

You are involved in a major mind-fuck. Hang in there. You are not alone out here.

Don't look for logic in their actions. They are obviously keeping you totally at bay, totally off balance, and I can only guess that some of what you experience is not generated by the reptiles, but you react as if it is, and very understandably. That's part of the game.

As a retired pilot with 39 years experience, I will advise you that, since you live within two miles of an airport and are well within the traffic pattern, don't assign all airborne activities by various aircraft to them. Some of what you described above is just normal flying procedures. The aircraft that buzzed you and popped up could be some guy just out screwing around. I used to do that a lot. I'm sure some of it is harassment, like the bizjet reversing course, possibly, but other traffic might have interfered with his approach and he just turned around to take another run at it.

Best wishes, Apocalypto.

AJH said...

Answer to: You are involved in a major mind-fuck...

You have a valid point about aircraft behavior near airports. I am only writing about the most perverse flight patterns of the day, but it could be normal air control protocol.

The event of the aircraft that popped up behind a hill some 200m away was exceptional, and as I never heard the aircraft fly into this bowl with power lines crossing it, I assumed it likely to be a teleportation stunt. To be accurate, the aircraft could of glided without power into this bowl,then powered up to make a 90 degree turn and then ascend in a very steep climb (near maximum I would think for a propeller driven aircraft) to climb the 50m of the hill and come out from behind it. It is entirely possible that this could of been a fixed wing aircraft stunt by conventional means. To my limited knowledge of small aircraft, it seemed foolhardy in the least. And I suppose there are pilots who like to do low altitude stunts, but I wouldn't be their passenger. Thanks for your comments.