Saturday, November 03, 2012

Go Slow Weekend

Only the toilet blockings have made it an interesting Sunday, save the earlier yoga visit as described in the previous blog posting. Otherwise, it has been a shut-in day, something the perps like to pull as I came to find when they first went overt/beserk in 04-2002.

Though, some reflection on The Cosmic Pulse of Life, by Trevor James Constable, p 184;
"If the wisest men of earth choked on what Dr. Drown [inventor of radionics diagnois and healing] was able to do [take photographs of living tissue in the 1940's at resolutions equivalent to current day CT and MRI equipment], imagine how ill-prepared they are to deal with other-world cosmonauts [using etheric propulsion vehicle in a different density plane] who can bioenergetically tune in right to the medulla oblongata of any human being- the main switchboard. Unethical entities in sophisticated possession of such capability can run humans around like so many cockroaches. Unethic entities can, and do, literally think their thoughts into and through human beings who are under such control. There is not a competant occult scientist personally known to me who is not fully aware of this baleful phenomenon, so characteristic of the modern world. Man's seemingly inexhaustible appetite for death and destruction is not an accident!"
True in my experience of mapping the perps activities with world events. And is most likely arranged by our keepers who find so much joy to create human suffering; wholesale as in wars and disasters, or in smaller terms like accidents.

Intense ideations about moving to and working in the Alberta oilpatch today. I don't have any connection with it and have no plans on going there, and nor am I allowed any kind of job contacts with anyone who would be in a position to make an offer. A total perp plant notion, but it dominated my thought process for much of the day.

Busy winemaking today, for remuneration no less.

But why is it that the vehicular gangstalkers are so bound and determined to cross over the centerline and come at me head on? Is it not enough that they arranged road works on a section of road on my 15 min. commute where there is rock blasting, rock hauling, rock placement (as future road ballast) along with one-way traffic so that vehicles in each direction are stopped, aggregated and let through in batch to occupy the same section of road? (Not at the same time for course).

This is not a secondary highway even, and lo, if they didn't arrange a car carrier (a transport truck with multiple vehicles on it) to encroach 2' over the center line, coming at me from 50' away. Said carrier had absolutely NO REASON to avoid any cyclist or some such excuse on the marked road shoulder, and the fucker was coming at me for a head on. Though he did pull back in time, as I wasn't going to head for the ditch just yet. And too, a white and silver grey five vehicle escort behind it for whatever benefit that brings the perps/.

Busy winemaking, again; MLF, try to slow down the ferment on the late harvest wine by hooking up this big cooling fin in the tank, etc.

Halloween and all that; an excuse for more noise for the perps. And I am trying to find a place where I would live upstairs, or the top floor, and have no one pounding overhead. No such luck so far.

 All day today these notions of it being Wednesday when it is Thursday. I never got days of the week wrong until 2005 when they first succeeded in dithering me on this one. I recall my perp abetting brother dropping by,  (ahem; it is all scripted), and at some point in the conversation he asked me what day of the week it was. I got it wrong (in hindsight), but the asshole didn't say anything or re-evaluate what I said. He has a few of these like stunts to his name over the years.

Another shit stunt; leaking it out of my rear end in discrete quantities, nothing major, but uncomfortable at times, and needing a toilet paper clean up. They pulled a few on my this past summer where I had to take a shower to clean up at my place of work. The brown games continue on all fronts. Though I see that they have backed off on deep brown colored gangstalking vehicles this week. For the past three weeks there has been nearly one per day, ensconced with an advance and trailing white and silver-grey vehicle escort.Could it be that I was wearing a yellow-ish shirt today? They do like to arrange those two colors more often of late.

And the timing of the laundry from the above stunt was exactly when I began a new bottle of detergent, swapping to a new brand even. And a yellow colored container at that, one of their "problem" colors, aka an Unfavored color. Exciting time in perp research indeed, not forgetting it is psychopathically insane criminal abuse as well.

And my Firefox browser was stripped of graphics, just text, and after some pissing around I had to reset Firefox. What a disaster; basics like a menu bar were missing, my few add-ons were gone and I am still in major recovery mode. Though, at significant length, my all important bookmarks were restored. And not forgetting, that bookmarks are my whole life interests, over 50,000 of them. They wiped them out in 2002, and hopefully they won't do it again.

A almost Fellini-like (peverse juxtaposition of odd characters and behaviors), visit to the medical clinic to get my Rx renewed; no one in the waiting area and no one at the front counter, though a teenage boy in a red shirt sitting in an adjacent room with the door ajar and a mid-sized dog in his lap, seeming to hold it up against a PC monitor. Lots of female banter from somewhere in the office, and a kid and another dog seemed to be part of it. Said child  (3 yo) and a dog come down the hallway side by side, a seeming litter mate (same silver grey with overlaid brown guard hair fur) of the one in the lap of the boy. (Favored color of silver-grey with unfavored brown fur note). How any mother, save in controlled and scripted conditions, can let their child wander into a public area, and possibly outside unattended, defies understanding. After some five minutes I asked the boy if the office was closed, and within a minute a native Indian woman appears in the hallway, the receptionist. I give her my public health care card from my wallet, and answer the few questions, and then she leads me to the room, then putzes with the 22" monitor that is facing me from 5' away, and tells me the doctor would be right in. He takes five minutes to arrive (as in slinking in) even if I passed him doing paperwork in the hallway, and asks a the minimum of questions at to the Rx particulars, (not related to health condition or need) and does his Rx prescription online on the monitor. The doctor sends off the Rx electronically, and then I ask him if there was any refills (though it did say on the Rx bottles I supplied), and he says no, and then goes back online to resend it for refills. Like WTF; no questions as to health, Rx logistics, and only one about the pharmacy. And one would think he would be trying to sell me on coming back again, but no, even if I cannot find a family doctor in town.

A sudden "need" for a tanning session came on at 1900h and my usual headlight show outside when I arrived. A strip mall with no parking next to the sidewalk in front of the storefronts, and yet a vehicle was 50' away, headlights pointed at me (aka pit-lamping) going in. And lo, if there wasn't another vehicle doing the same thing from the opposite side when I exited. The latter vehicle was red colored, with the typical pose of the operative/asshole getting in or out of the driver's seat. And too, a sudden eruption of a moving truck with Fuckwits moving furniture into a business some 80' away, this at 1945h on a Friday night for crissakes. No sudden surge of tanning customers though, unlike last time.

Then onto the pharmacy and the nearby mall supermarket. At least two gangstalker males were of the same dark hair and dark complexion of the doctor in the above mentioned medical office visit, now almost three hours later. All to leave without doing any grocery shopping for crissakes. I had one dumbstruck shit standing there 4' away for no apparent purpose while I picked up my usual four yogurts in the cooler case. The stand-there-and-look-blank act is very old, ten years worth. And getting blanked out for one item and not getting it is another perp neural influencing trademark.

I am going to launch (publish) this now, as I will be busy sorting out the moving, or not, scenario. This being written at the start of the weekend, Nov. 3, 2012.

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