Sunday, April 28, 2013

Post Haircut Frenetic Gangstalking

A Saturday, and an 0900h haircut and what an insane amount of gangstalking afterward. Even now, back at this motel suite for the winter, the noise is escalated as well as the tromping and pounding as they walk outside. And what is it about cutting the perps are so berserk about? From cutting cooked meat, vegetables, hair cuts, lawn cutting, plant pruning etc. the perps are absolutely fussed and frenetic about. They put on a stiff breeze for my post-hair cut errands I attended to, grocery shopping and clothing donations to Value Village. Serial streams of same colored vehicles too, at least six white vehicles in succession, and almost that bad for red colored vehicles, both at least 5x for a 20 min. trip. Even the left hand drive vehicles had to get in on it, parking next to me for crissakes, and then the driver sitting in the vehicle, doing squat.

Then a skunk on getting laundry going at 1100h, as both washing machines "happened" to be taken. This bullshit started a few weeks ago when I had no problem with finding an available washing machine every time for the last four months. Go figure, and not only that, there are less than half the vehicles there was a month ago.

I have been made to be totally slack in doing daily updates this week, and one can count on outside influence for that.

And  noise convergence all of a sudden; male banter outside with an excessively giggly girl. Then the dog barking noise from the N neighbor also chimed in. And the apparent association of this? The noises erupted when I looked at a dairy-free chocolatier website, brown and red it was, so maybe it was the color combination too.

Other excitement for the perps tonight is that I waxed my hiking boots, which darkens them for a time, maybe a day or so. Any kind of slow color transitions get them worked up. Having my tea infuse and slowly turn amber is another occasion for extra perp noise, interventions, light flashes, maser balls zinging around and the like. The color transition of steeping tea is just too interesting for them. Such are the hyper-intrusions of all things banal or routine. And it gets worse from there, should I attempt something new, it invariably becomes a total harassment scene with relentless rage-ification fuckery.

Reflecting back on the week, the septic services came to pump out the tank three days ago at work (a vineyard). There was plenty of extra sit time for the tanker with its engine running outside, some 20 minutes for whatever reason. When I went outside, carrying two plastic 3/4" hoses, it was the moment that the owners converged in their RTV, and the driver of the septic services truck got out of his cab. Later in the day the perps forced me to take a crap and lo, if the toilet didn't back up, and stay that way for the next two days. Plunging doesn't help much, as so many of these new toilet designs don't have a round throat at the base of the bowl, so plungers and "one-second" gas cartridges don't seal and therefore don't clear the toilet like for circular designs. But as the peps have been screwing me over for blocked toilets since the Day of Abusive Infamy (see Eleven Years On), it could be all a faked game.

At yoga yesterday, the tattoo platoon was back in force, placing themselves about the exercise room once it was free. Even when I arrived and signed in, the male with the long hair and the gross tattoos on his chest and arm was initially loitering in the S aisle of the waiting area. By the time I looked up after signing in, there he was at the N wing where the coat rack is, and "coincidentally" where I was headed. This gangstalking creature was loitering there for no other purpose as there was no one else to talk to. He expressly walked 30' from the S end (where waiting people were congregated) and arranged to be the sole gangstalker/loiterer at the N end where I was headed next. I took off my coat, sweater and shoes while he was hanging around 6' away. After class, and when putting on my coat and shoes, and thinking I could get out without seeing this foul creature again, he "happened" to end up right behind me as I was holding the exit door open to see if anyone else was going to catch the door. Like WTF; if I don't like the sight of fucking tattoos, why am I hounded by wackos with this very condition they want me to see? Eleven years of this fucking abusive insanity, all over what I abhor, and sometimes what I like. Go fuck yourselves.

Also in yoga, another male, some 60 y.o. and one I hadn't seen before in his ridiculous baggy shorts at his knees, and pasty white legs, though shaven. He did at least a half dozen struts around his mat before being sure he had it in the right place, which I take to mean "see me" and like over-obvious strange behavior. That he was in staring mode each time I glanced over told me he was on the feed and acting for the perps' purpose. There was one mat space between him and me, and sure enough, after a minute or so of class time, a latecomer arrives between us.

That was Friday yoga, and it is becoming such a freakshow that I am going to go Mondays only, though I am sure the freakshow will follow me there, as in the past. Other related excitement for the perps was that I had a leg wax two hours before class. Ordinarily I get this done on Saturdays, but for reasons only the perps know, Saturday was busy and booked up (for the first time in the past year of attendance). I had to leave work early, and had been pumping red wine through a filter that somehow didn't work. All those red color transitions through stainless steel and plastic drums and vinyl hoses is just too exciting for the perps it would seem. And I suppose, whatever color reaction data they might have collected there, they wanted to correlate it (or use it in some way) for leg waxing and then yoga. Eleven years of this abusive insanity (theirs), and here they are fucking around with red colors still. (And sending red plasma beams across my keyboard as I type this).

The perps also started me on an imposed "need" to pluck the body hairs from around my nipples for whatever reason earlier this week, possibly as a "warm up" for the above mentioned full leg waxing. All those plucked hairs and disrupted cells must provide them with interesting biological energetic signatures. Then there is the new harassment adjunct of having plucked hairs refuse to let go of the tweezers, and they seem to come back again or otherwise re-arrive when I thought I had got rid of them in the sink. As I am getting inundated with more hairs coming in from nowhere, even after a shower, and they aren't colored like my own, why should I be so surprised that my own hairs have extra-conventional gravitic properties? And for the record, my nipples receive anywhere from 20 to 80 jabbings a day, coming from unseen sources and directions. The nipples region, even in males, has extra innervation in the brain, so the in situ brain/mind research model, (aka harassment and abuse campaign) seems to support that particular abuse.

Other games that are getting more harassment time this past week is screwing me over as to which browser I use for email. I use a browser that allows me to block ads, and when wanting to compose or return an email, my Yahoo email won't work. It varies; sometimes the Compose button won't work, or I cannot type anything in the To field or the Send button won't work. So I go to IE to reply to my email, and of course the corporate O/S company doesn't supply an ad blocker, so I get these animated ads either side of my Yahoo email page for the perp critical moment of sending email. More high excitement for the perps.

Similarly, for internet access; the constant shuffling of my aerial for internet access. First it works in the top USB port but this blocks the headphone jack. So I move it down 2" to the lower USB port and it works fine there too. Then it doesn't after a few days, so I move it to the top USB jack and it works fine again, even if it precludes music listening. Then after a few days neither works, so I use the local motel Wi-fi and it works for a few days. Then this ridiculous merry-go-round starts up again. There is nothing wrong with the cell phone reception here as my phone has four bars. And it is the same company that supplies these cell phone aerials and the same network. Anyhow, the signal path seems to be of acute interest to the perps, whether it via landline cable, landline twisted pair (traditional phone), cell phone and cell internet access. Round and round we go with different accompanying background noise, one being the yapping dudes who arrived suddenly at 1730h as I was finishing the last 20 min. of month-end updates on Quicken. Said background of dude yapping, and there had to be at least five different male voices, continued while making and eating dinner, and while cleaning the dishes afterward. It seems they wanted dusk conditions to noise-track me, which is quite common for perp games and stunts.

An 8km hike today, though not without its problems. It was a resumption of last week's hike where I "happened" to take the wrong trail, and of course, no sign posts anywhere. I took the plan B route, the seeming correct trail for a kilometer and encountered a stream of over 12" deep and 6' wide. I passed on wading it as I didn't want to fill my boots for the rest of the hike (3km on way, and then another 4km coming back).

And at the trailhead at 0930h on a Sunday, why, someone had a big yellow school bus parked there. I later encountered this party of 20 or so, and they seemed to be on a geological field trip. This isn't the first time a clusterfuck of standees has been encountered on a hiking trail, nor a bus-full of gangstalkers. Past encounters have been arranged when a bus-load of person disgorges just where I "happen" to be passing by, but it is the first for a bus-full on a hiking trail. And the first vehicle I see on my return at the hike`s end, why, a blue colored school bus.

This hike was in the region of White Lake, and I assume it was approved by the perps, especially considering there is a radio-telescope observatory there, aka, dish-farm. The E-W line of scuzzy ground is a row of telephone posts with horizontal wires strung between them. Might this be a correlating ground reading aerial field? I don't know as I am loathe to make too many technical speculations.

A double feature on a serial killer nurse on 60 Minutes tonight. The perps like me to watch Mystery Detectives and like true crime shows, so I wonder if the 60 Minutes piece is related. This, after getting me warmed up with winsome blonde anchor in the prior local newscast. And at least three ```bleed`` stories tonight (punctuation has gone on the fritz) on the said local news, also possibly linked to the later 60 Minutes piece. Anyhow, enough morbidity and to get this posted.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Over the Septic Tank

A day of hopping in and out of the Kubota RTV to retrieve prunings over one inch or more in diameter. The flail mulcher cannot handle the thicker chunks that are sometimes removed in the course of pruning. (Mostly it is the canes that are cut back, and they don't get more than 3/4" diameter. Of course I learn this now, because I could of packed out the chunks when I was pruning Jan. through March. But as the FUD-fog is always prevalent as part of the present Imposition, why, I find out way too late.

I got an extra incentive to dig out the top of the septic tank at the vineyard, as it seems the former owner decided to bury any access to it. Whatever; the perps have been playing with excrement ever since the Day of Infamy (Eleven Years On), in all its facets and representations from formation, toilet games, local sewage plants, septic fields etc. So here we go again, it just "happens" to be my employer's place this time.

Yoga; the major tatttoo dude again, in Power Yoga, though he didn't put his tats in front of me in the lobby after class, like he did twice before. A disproportate large assed women was in front of me, a most ungainly sight it was. And like "usual" (last six months or so), they leave an open spot next to me and then the shills/Fuckwits arrive at the last minute or even after class has begun, to fill in around me. Last year it was the native Indians arriving along with their tattoos, swooping in at the last minute to fill in the inexplicably remaining space around me. Today, it was two Caucasian women, the youngest one next to be with a blonde behind her. Her qualifications for being Unfavored was red hair. The women tattoo show was limited, one had three small stars on her wrist, also on show the prior class.

And it seems I cannot get a break in any yoga class I go to, in terms of it being full, if not overfull. This class had six or eight students in it  three months ago and that was just fine. Now, it is populated with 20 students, getting close to over-capacity. This was the pattern of the Sunday morning yoga that I no longer attend as it got way too busy. Now they are pulling the same thing on Fridays.

Saturday, laundry day at this motel where I stay over the winter. And for "some reason" they increased the gangstalking coverage this morning when I walked the 100' or so through the parking lot to the laundry room. (The perp "reason" might be that I had just finished paying three bills online, one of them delayed because there was no "Next" function on the page unlike two days ago. Regular readers will know the perps are berserk over every financial transaction I make from mailed checks, coin machines, bus fare, bill payments online and in person and ATM's).

Continuing on the above gangstalk show, the Fuckwit lunk (met him some three weeks ago) from downstairs  was doing a troll across the front of the stairs with one pant leg hung up on his white sock all to cross his path some 10 seconds later. An elder-blonde woman with a disproportionately large ass was also thrown into this two party clusterfuck, "happening" to be converging and crossing my path 20 seconds ahead of me. She "happens" to show up in the office after I loaded the washing machine and set it going (read, financial transaction, -coin operated), as the perps fucked me out of taking my keys with me when I was looking right at them when getting the right change for the washing machine. Then a doppelganger stalker to the elder-blonde, (again, disproportionate large ass), came by to collect her laundry, all the while on her cell phone. Because I got a new key to get in to my suite I was obliged to return it and lo, if the second elder-blonde wasn't standing outside her seeming suite 5 minutes later with the still wet laundry load in hand. Just ridiculous, and all the more so when she could of sat down at the chair outside her suite.

A full-out stakeout/gangstalk for a 40 min. shopping trip; busy, with hotrod noise and motorcycles and the legions of traffic at 1330h. They even put on a white and red crane truck, bringing out the big iron, though one has to wonder why it was moblie on a Saturday. Even a before and after stalker at the ATM, and a brown bag on the adjacent window sill to add some color (har, har) into the gangstalking scene. Then the headlights on me when I exited, and another set on me when I got to my vehicle, the latter stopped in the middle of an aisle of empty parking lot stalls. As soon as I got my camera ready to take a pic, why, they moved on, even if they didn't see the camera as it was behind the dashboard. And if my windshield was any bit as reflective as theirs, they would not of seen the camera in any event, should I have put it to my eye to the camera to take the pic.

Month end (for March) accounting and the dude-yappers arrived en mass (5 or so) for background banter while I deal with the endless fuckery this exercise has become.

More to write about; constant shuffling of my aerial for internet access. First it works in the top USB port but this blocks the headphone jack. So I move it down 2" to the lower USB port and it works fine there too. Then it doesn't after a few weeks, so I move it to the top USB jack and it works fine again, even if it precludes music listening. Then after a few days neither works, so I use the local motel Wi-fi and it works for a few days. Then this ridiculous merry-go-round starts up again. There is nothing wrong with the cell phone reception here as my phone has four bars. And it is the same company that supplies these cell phone aerials and the same network. Anyhow, the signal path seems to be of acute interest to the perps, whether it via landline cable, landline twisted pair (traditional phone), cell phone and cell internet access.

Related to the above is the ongoing strangeness of the Firefox browser and email; it won't let me reply in Firefox so I redisplay the page in IE, and it works fine. It seems the perps want me to receive email in one browser and compose and send in IE. The latter comes without Ad-Block, a Firefox add-on that I find essential to contain the animated ads and other nonsense that invades my display while reading static text. Would we tolerate books if they had this ongoing distraction on the side? I doubt it, but ads aren't going to go away on the internet by themselves, and Ad-Block is an essential browser component that Microsoft would be unlikely to include in IE. And so goes browser switching for email use, forced by most the most strange intermittent bugs that have this exact same problem; compose and send being inoperative (blocked IMHO).

Round and round too we go with different accompanying background noise, one being the yapping dudes who arrived suddenly at 1730h as I was finishing the last 20 min. of month-end updates on Quicken. Said background of dude yapping, and there had to be at least five different male voices, continued while making and eating dinner, and while cleaning the dishes afterward. It seems they wanted dusk conditions to noise-track me, which is quite common for perp games and stunts.

Sunday, and an intended hike didn't quite work out, as I missed the trail head, and of course no signs. I ended up at the other end of the trail, and began to hike from there. The map was short on showing the trail and I proceeded on the wrong trail as it "happened". I never misread maps before, and I did just that when looking at it on a poster board on the second trailhead.

And lo, if the perps didn't bring on a new form of gangstalker, the birdwatcher. The greatest excuse for more "dwell time" as in loitering, taking off-trail parallels, stopping and starting ahead of me and reversals in mid trail. One was in a scarlet red coat, a form of gangstalker known as a Redcoat. (Others are Brownshirts, etc.)  And jets overhead, or just the noise thereof, as I reversed direction, which I did twice as it seemed that the trail petered out. Eventually I gave up as it seemed the trail really did stop at this pond.

And quite a crowd at the trail heads, at least a 8 vehicles at each end, which is a lot for a trail that is ill-defined and unsigned. Not a tourist trail either.

Sunday night, and my typical posting time, this abbreviated by the effort to get the Eleven Years On done this week too.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Eleven Years On

This is the 11th anniversary of the onset of this continuous abuse at the hands of a highly organized party with the ability to access one's mind in real time and by remote means. And to inflict telekinetic (action at a distance) abuses relentlessly and constantly all day long. And no reprieve when at sleep either; my dreams have become more lurid, technical and without the normal fail-safe means to bail out. (Formerly, if a dream got ugly I would wake up and that would be the end of it, but now this "circuit breaker" ability is suppressed to keep me in ugly dreams for longer, or until the planted show is over).

It all began, in my total ignorance of what has transpired before, in April 2002 when working in Seattle and my co-workers were looking at me strange for no seeming reason. Then the ex was acting weird on the phone. Then I was getting dithered in getting my income tax return together. The then girlfriend, Ms. C was also acting strange. The other girlfriend, Ms. L, had split town a week earlier. Then this ominous foreboding of something terrible and traumatic was about to unfold. Like what?, I kept asking myself, and for what?  I hadn't done anything illegal, had no bad habits to invite weirdness of others, so WTF?

Some dudes were lingering outside on the balcony of a nearby apartment, which was strange as the building was so quiet. Then some strange dudes tailed me into the 24 Hr Fitness at 0100h, seeming to be packing a gun holster under their gym clothes while running on the treadmill. Then a vehicle full of business-like males stopped outside my parked vehicle on the street, as viewed from the lobby of the said fitness club. And it got stranger with these males surfacing in the building and I didn't know how they got there as I was monitoring the entrance way and somehow they got into the change room to hang around. I had taken the hard drive out of my PC (familiar?) to dispose of it there should there be something incriminating that someone else had put on my PC. I parked my car on the street instead of the parkade below the apartment building just to be "elusive" though in hindsight I cannot think that it would of amounted to anything helpful. I had taken my medications with me and yet they weren't to be found in my locker. When I got back to my apartment they were there in the bathroom and it was no recall mistake on my part, someone did move them from my locker back to my apartment ahead of me. This was a Sunday night, going into Monday morning.

Eventually, I fell asleep on the floor, and the next moment I was aware of was when six men in suits (or sports jackets) were holding me aloft horizontally and transporting me into my apartment. After that, many strange things transpired. For some reason I thought it was a police raid, complete with barking dogs and rattling chains on cages outside. There was strange lights arranged one above the other outside the window. The front door shifted in its frame, there were light flashes that were dazzling, and some particular kinds of light, brown in color, that would immediately cause me to collapse in a sudden influx of tiredness. Other light flashes would display, and too, some grey tracks of seeming bees were buzzing and I was following them with my vision until they crossed paths and I didn't know which was which. A hole was being sawn into the floor of my apartment, and I could see that it was at least 2' diameter and the cutting tool from below and the cut floor beginning to drop into the apartment below. There was a screwdriver that deformed, its metal shaft "melted" by roughly 90 degrees while in my hand and not the least bit warm. And then this barrage of high strangeness subsided and I expected to see a party to arrive and explain all this, but that didn't happen. Objects of mine appeared from nowhere, and small cylindrical batteries would roll into my proximity. The apartment was strewn with CD's and debris by the end of this high tech invasion/abuse. Though the hole in the floor and the lateral shifting door were back to normal; no evidence of it afterward.

By then, it was clear I was getting telepathic dialog and instructions that was perfectly clear, rational and relevant. I was instructed to take my Victoria Masters Swim Club jacket to a certain hotel suite in the same building, and eventually did. On my way back, going through the courtyard and not the building, I encountered an organized group of adults standing side by side and in two ranks for a team picture. Once back in my apartment, some personnel did appear, and one teleported through the bathroom wall in a shimmer of metallic light, eventually standing in the bathtub. Another male showed me a balloon and I followed him and he demonstrated that he would flush the toilet and force the balloon into the toilet's throat, which as it turned out, stayed there and blocked the toilet for a week until I got a plumber's snake. (I would also use the bathroom at work to lessen the impact of the toilet's obstructed state.)

I had no idea what time of day all of the above transpired, except that by the end of it I had enough and wondered what it was all about. I recall having a bath by the end of it all (probably by way of telepathic instruction), but no further ahead as to why all this had transpired. I went to bed wondering what all of it was about, and even, if it was for real.

I went to work the next day, discovering my vehicle parked on the street with two traffic tickets on it, and drove it back to its assigned parking location. And my very first gangstalker was in place; some dude sitting in a chair in the apartment lobby with a grin on his face for no apparent reason. I had never seen the guy before and wondered why anyone would be there. Again, high strangeness was at work with my first observation of two women colleagues dressed and made up, far out of character of their usual attire. I mentioned to someone else that I had an interesting day yesterday (per above), but they didn't want to make any entreaties as to what it was. No one said anything about my missing day of work, which was very curious. Some of the staff would tail me anytime I got up and went somewhere, they would have a need to cruise by.

At the end of the day the perps started their abusive campaign in full; they drilled me with substantial head pain that could be evaded if I walked around (in my apartment). But of course I could do nothing else. One night the head pain was so bad I walked at least a half mile in downtown Seattle to take a hotel suite. On the way there I got zapped by a electromagnetic pulse of some kind. The night at the hotel was one of being in a siege state; plasma beams came through the window, and some came from elsewhere. Once I put the TV on, a cathode ray tube model and one that emits a magnetic radiation, the pain beams stopped. And their efforts to attack me escalated. At one point this man in a suit stepped out of the elevator with a 1970's style cell phone in his hand. I might of got a decent night's sleep, I don't recall the details of the next three weeks of insane abuse.

Another night in the hotel was a nightmare; their abilities to attack the room with plasma and maser beams were much better, and I wasn't allowed to get any sleep from the head pain abuse. Eventually, I went to the second floor washroom and seemed to get some relief there, all a 0300h to 0500h in the morning. This was when the great-stakeout games started at 0500h in the streets of Seattle. these dudes, often in pairs, were loitering around or else seemed to be cueing themselves as to where I was. Whenever they got close, say 10ft, the pain beams would start up again. It seemed to be that proximate gangstalkers were the essential requirement for them delivering a jolt of pain to me. These Fuckwits would circulate around me, and they came in greater number if there was any metal objects nearby. It was clear that any metal object or magnet provided instant relief from being zapped. There were at least two such zapping stakeouts in the streets of Seattle that followed the above apartment invasion.

A whole lot of other abuses started as well, with employer abettance, in the following weeks and all of it getting worse. I won't go into the details of where I was and when for the next three weeks, but it was clear there was family involvement as well. And for the sake of brevity, I wont go into the details of the long vehicle trips that I took at all hours of the morning with some 50 to 100 vehicles tailing me and then one driving from the cluster behind me to the one ahead every few minutes. These all night vehicular sojourns offered me relief from the head pains they would constantly shoot at me as I was encased in a steel body, and the way it seemed (then), it offered protection. I often got sleep at the I-5 rest areas in my vehicle, or at least until they started parking vehicles around me and then the head pains would start up. I was also subject to light beam and zapping attacks while driving on two occasions, the vehicles around me being sources of these beams while mobile. I could block the effect of these beams with some sound deadening material, a lead sheet encased in foam. It became my shield in effect, and I often used it to gain some precious sleep. For all the sleep I lost, I was never tired during the day and never needed to catch up.

So here we are, now in Penticton BC (formerly Victoria BC until 01-2012), 11 years later and the same assholes are still hounding me, though mostly without the debilitating head pain. There is absolutely no limit to what they will arrange around for whatever reasons they have.

From digging 100ft deep foundation levels in downtown Seattle, to soil pits miles away, but in distant view on my regular hiking trails, the perps will not cease exposing me to soil as one of their regular habits. Of late, it is mud flecked vehicles that stay parked in the same location for weeks, all to show me their dirt or soil backed by the vehicle color. And the relentless stream of gangstalking, either in vehicles and their uniformly bizarre driving antics, to the Fuckwits who stand in place (street theater) or do 360 degree sidewalk spins.

And the constant noise-stalking, timing a foreign noise at the instant I mention or think of  any of their favorite themes; time related, war and strife related, money related, and of course, the freakshow that manages to find me with yet more demographic group specimens, aka the Unfavored; fat Fuckwits, red hair, geriatrics, public boors, males in ballcaps and the rest of their ilk.

Along the way the perps have enlightened me on neutrinos and how they are mostly coming from the sun, though some pass through the earth, where others come from the sun directly. The amount of shade, orientation, directionality all come to bear on the perps and their endless games of combinations and permutations of all things that matter to them. And it is all things, including clothing color, thoughts and reactions and food ingestion, time of day etc. And it includes one's thoughts getting dithered; slowly they have learned more about how I know there is a perp, a perp stunt, and all their telekinetic fuckery and forced forgets and finger fumbling.

And yet the perps quest isn't about mind control research as the central objective; the only mind-thought action they cannot yet control is my attention switching, something they have been assiduously hounding me with coincident noise for at least the last six years. It seemed the last major thought incursion, as in remotely applied neural influencing, was my long and short term recall. It was in early 2007 they were fucking with my long term recall and eventually my short term recall was corruptible by mid-2008.

Other things they slowly introduced me to was shape-shifting or morphovers as I have called them. Very often a perp will pull a prominent stunt and then even ten minutes later a perp of the identical build but different clothing and face will appear, as if to jog my recall as to being kindled by the first perp. I would of never figured that one out on my own, save for the many specific examples they provided of some of my former swim team colleagues (who may have  become perps following a year absence from the club), with the same build and hair but a different face. Once I had that one figured out, the same Fuckwits would show up on a hiking trail speaking with a foreign or English accent, and the instant I figured out who it was the person stopped speaking in mid-sentance and his hiking colleagues didn't prod him to continue the story. So even speech can be modified for their chose perps or abusers.

The few positive changes the perps have delivered are age regression, (am 58, look 38), a straighter back, with changed walking gait with my abdominal musclature much improved, and more stronger at exercise with much less training. And no one in my family says a thing about the more obvious changes noted. Which is why they get the name, the First Feral Family, ones who sell out their own at birth for crissakes. How sick is that?

So the question on all TIs minds is what is all this for, this highly organized, infinitely funded and hugely networked covert organization with the police, military and government in their pocket pounding the crap, literally, out of selected innocent victims in a supposed free country. Yes, I received an education of startling breadth and depth as to how the real world is run, and by whom. Some call it conspiracy, but based on my experience and all the connections I see, the conspiracists are largely correct.

As are the lone wolves who speak of endless energy from the ether (or the omniplasma continuum if you prefer), and how our present understanding of electromagnetic and gravitic energy is impoverished beyond appalling. Thomas Townsend Brown wrote a paper titled How I Control Gravity that should of radically changed the world, but is still largely ignored. (See link to Hello Stupid). Wilheim Reich wrote about orgone energy, and got his books burned in Nazi Germany an the USA. (Or else the rogue scientific thinkers get early cancer, starting with James Clerk Maxwell). The perps hound me each time I fill up the tank with gasoline, and seem to thrive on having oil and like petroleum products spill.

Another major facet is a huge geographic component to the perps' games, as well as an elevational one; be it stariways, elevators or aircraft, they are on my ass all the time. And having things burn up, including said gasoline in a reciprocating internal combustion engine; what is in it for the perps? And to me, the biggest question of all, is why do the perps stay hidden, and not chose to expedite their painfully plodding research (my pain and suffering) by cooperating? But as alien visitors have had extensive contact with past civilizations, it would seem that staying hidden is a vital component of their research methods. Could it be that the perps are the mortal representatives of the same party?

Then there are the arranged coincidences, harkening a likely facet of ECCO (Earth Coincidence Control Organization) of which Dr.John C Lilly wrote about from his contacts with them or representatives thereof. To continue the "greatest hits" list of the perps, (from my perspective) are the rabid stunts and gangstalking when undertaking a financial transaction, be it mailing a check, dropping coins into the meter on the bus, coin machines (that invariably don't deliver for me), and all manner of debit transactions, price variations and on and on. Another major perp theme relates to using cutlery and cutting up vegetables or meat; the perps go squirelly over this, arranging extra noise and extra First Feral Family gangstalking. Another theme mentioned above is food; color and kind and from what source and what packaging it was in. And likely related to that, is hounding me with garbage trucks, which carry intermixed waste, providing golden perp opportunities for yet more energetic interactions. Another major perp prop and/or theme is water; where it came from, what vessel was it in, what are the pipes and means that carry it, which includes arranging faucet valves in my presence at least twice. Arranging mini-showers on me or my car, or have someone turn a sprinkler on to partially douse my vehicle. Then the downstream uses of said water by plants or animals, and often sprinkling some rain in with irrigation water. Likely related to all this is the perps' abiding interest in having me make wine, and working in viticulture.

Enough themes for the perps to be hounding for another 11 years I reckon; what does the sun, the water, the delivery of water and plant and animal uptake, food and its digestion, colors (of everything, and including the landscape and sky), magnetic energies (and the ever present masers they arrange around me), arranged coincidences all have to do with each other and me? Only the perps know, and they aren't saying, no matter how long they have watched us Earthlings and formeted titanic struggles and wars, some of which are ongoing. I don't know of course, but one can be sure this is one of the most significant experiments, of a cosmic nature I suspect.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Seventy Five Bucks Later

A preamble to this posting (now 04-09-2013, Tuesday). My PC and main internet access got taken in for repairs for four days Fri, Sa, Sun, Mon, the perps adroitly taking out this PC for the weekend, my normal time to update, finalize and publish this blog. Much more went on than is blogged, which is always the case, but significantly more so for this posting.

My cell phone  went down to serve as a vehicle to create more confusion over scheduling and conferring that follows below.

I called a computer tech up to look at my PC (in place) as I have a failing drive (it says), and needed to get it "cloned" onto the new warranty replacement drive. The tech said to copy the files over as he got the USB drive to work somehow, when I couldn't. For a whole 15 minutes of putzing he charges me a minimum of one hour, $75, and departs.

Then the tech's plan to copy the files and switch the hard drives didn't work, (after a screaming rage show because the drive would not slip back in as it had slipped out readily, due to the design of the case). So a whole $75 spent on useless advice, save his magic ability to get the USB drive working. A day later he said he would come over to attend to a related problem, but didn't show. And haven't I been stood up before?

Earlier, a nutty high level of gangstalking; banking (always a high gangstalking scene), supermarket with freaks hanging around, then extra freak coverage at the organic specialty store, then the deli with the Fuckwit who kept hanging at the checkout as if he had a complicated transaction in progress and let me in, making out he was a commercial customer.

All these transactions and getting stalked up the asshole by freaks and Fuckwits.

PC back and assembled, with some wayward fuckery; if I want the G drive cloned to a new disk, why is it now the D drive, and why cannot I change the drive letter when the tech said I could. I have never been able to re-assign drive letters. [Update; I have discovered a new feature of Windows 7 called "Computer Management" -you mean it has only taken over 20 years to get to this, or is it just that I was kept in the dark?]

Then the USB3 drive continues its antics when the tech said they were visible when the two drives aren't. This infernal Windows message says to put in a drive when there are already two there. I pull them out and put them back and it still cannot see the drives

A $120 bill from the second tech, a shop, on top of the above $75 gouge, and then $37 to send the defective drive to WD. Some $220 for the latest round of sabotage on this PC when WD Caviar drives are known for being rock solid, hence their 5 year warranty. That makes 3 of 4 WD Caviar drives, all purchased at the same time, that have "failed" on me. Worse yet, WD sends me a generic drive in return, and doubtless, with no warranty continuation. Funny, my Crucial M4 SSD drive has been rock solid for the last year.

Then the music files wouldn't play, and then the Songbird thing got the new directory all wrong, and I piss around in extreme rage, and finally the music files begin to play for no apparent reason. It is just that they wanted me to start with Joan Armatrading instead of Jann Arden. Go fuck yourselves. And in putting the drives back in the case, a continuation of the fuckery over screws not threading and mating, a continuation of the hassle at the winery where I work. All to infuriate the living hell out of me. I cannot handle this fucking constant adversery any more. I want out, and the fastest would be a 9mm.

Finally, I got the PC back together, but still some mysterious differences between the function between the store and here. I still cannot get the USB3 docking station to be seen, yet the tech said it was, having phoned him back this morning. I am so confused at to where are my files are, and now the Copy Handler software, that would sort out the duplicates isn't working. On and on with relentless sabotage.

Today, I had to shell out $37 to get the defective hard drive back to WD; all told this squalid sabotage has cost me $220, and am still none the wiser as to if all my files are recovered as the second tech said a few didn't copy over (because of the bad sectors that somehow erupted). I still have a second set but what good is that if Copy Handler won't work. More plain needless, senseless and psychopathic fuckery, now closing in on 11 years of this insane abuse.

And of course more financial games in paying for the courier to take the drive; they took cash or check only for DHL. The last bills in my wallet was $35 in $5's (blue colored) and a $10 (purple colored). I had to leave the counter to go out to my vehicle to get a $2 coin to make $37. Not a financial transaction goes unmonitored, and/or unfucked. Once done, the red vehicle contingent was waiting for me in traffic and leading me at the ATM to get some more cash. I don`t usually take much cash now as it goes `missing`all by itself, some $1600 last year.

The above antics, and finishing a book that served as my companion while this PC was at the shop, served to mess my shopping schedule up. Directly from work I went to a nearby grocery store, and lo, if it wasn't busy at 1600h. One item I wanted to get was mushrooms, but lo, if there wasn't a cluster (three) women over top of the mushrooms. I go elsewhere in the store to finish up my shopping and come back to the produce section, and lo, if two males aren't hanging over the mushrooms and protracting their dwell time there. Screw it, and time to get out. Who would of thunk it; 11 years of sustained stalking abuse (among other methods), and here they are setting up parties for mushroom shopping obstruction.

Though I should mention that my perp-abetting mother got onto a mushroom cooking routine for a few years of my once per week dinner visitations. She never cooked mushrooms before and then seemed to take this on when I was there for at least two years and then suddenly stopped for no know reason. So what is it about mushrooms, and fungi that so interests the perps and why am I a vehicle for researching this insane techno-obsession of an undeclared abusive entity who has kept themselves in the closet?

Part of today's extra stupid games might be that I was wearing a new fleece jacket, to follow on the one that didn't have a breast pocket and put my cell phone at risk in the course of winery activity. The former jacket also developed some color changes in the artificial fleece, normally an odd circumstance but nothing new in Abuseville.

A bench trial of a tannin product at the winery was going fine until the penultimate sample when the pipette and connected aspirator leaned over by itself and then dumped the tannin product on the bench. That is, a brown colored solution soaked into my journal, papers and other ling things, making for extra clean up, and for me to pack a brown soaked, now dried, journal with me. Exciting moments in perp games, though oddly, they didn't force me to take a crap before of after this "browing around".

And onset of pounding and vibration at this motel suite; doors slamming, tapping, and I take off to the tanning salon. And lo, if they weren't slamming nearby doors while I was cooking under the bulbs. I also did some shopping while out, coming back with a hot cooked chicken. And just like old times (past residences of the past 11 years), noise eruption while cutting up the chicken meat, taking off the wings. This time, it was the outside dude yapping that erupted. I don't know why they like to play this particular noise as much as they do. but it has been nothing but consistent, and usually follows prior female banter.

A windy day, especially while doing drilling and sawing in getting a pump platform together. And lo, if an adjacent property didn't get into the same activities, drilling and sawing as some kind of activity and noise emulation. I chipped a 1"x4" piece of wood out to make a notched corner in a 2x10, and lo, if a 6" long filamentous maser didn't float up toward, visible for four seconds or so. So what is it about wood, as a tree or dried as a board, that the perps are so nuts about? Here we are in North America, living in wood frame houses for the most part, and they are hammering my ass for 11 years over cutting wood.

The boss man got into spraying sulfur in the wind for crissakes; I thought it was too windy to spray for effective coverage, but he, or his perp advisory didn't. Even his wife thought it was too windy for spraying work. Go figure, though it was a noxious chemical smell that even got inside the house.


A sudden eruption of activity in the laundry room at 0930h results in me getting skunked and bringing it back to wait for another time. At least two others were waiting, plastic bags of laundry on top. Lets see; for the past four months I have done my laundry nearly every Saturday morning and for the most part there has been no one there. In the least, the washing machines were free. Now, at the same time of week and day, it is suddenly backed up. I had the new jug of detergent in hand, as of yet unopened and maybe that was the perp excitement. But as they constantly fuck with my laundry (e.g. inexplicable load balance problems), and just love to put on noises, finger fumbling harassment and other delays each time I open a new package of anything, why should I be surprised at this escalation of fuckery?

Plus the "rude dudes" were parked outside the laundry room in a no parking location, and just "happened" to be exiting their room and accessing their very large pick up vehicle and getting in the way before I could enter.

And more games with the internet service going down, and then the local motel wi-fi instead, working now. The perps are constantly having me alternate between internet access methods/technologies of late.

I will post this now that I am nearly a week late.