Monday, November 18, 2013

Sauternes Confluence

A sauterne is a sweet wine made in the Sauternes region of France from grapes that have suffered a botrytis bunch rot and are shriveled up on the vine. This concentrates the sugars and adds additional flavors. Picking is done as a triage process; picking the most eligible shriveled bunches and leaving the rest, often some 5 to 8 passes for harvesting. The yields are very low (less than 1.4 tons/acre) and not all years produce the grapes with the "noble rot", as a different rot may set in.

Anyhow, I had been reading about them for the past month as it is vineyard work relevant, having purchased a used book two months ago online. But I had never tasted one until today, the the vineyard owner gave me a partial bottle that had just been returned from the lab. So what is so important about this particular theme for the perps to have someone phone me this evening, while reading said book and said sauterne wine inside me? As long time readers will know, phone calls are an EMF signal to the side of one's head, and are perp favored at key moments. Not only for the EMF signal in my proximity and at my ear (asymmetric dosage), but also having me get off my seat and cross the room, one of their favorite disruption stunts. And if you concur that every moment of my existence is highly controlled and scripted, then it is most curious that they had to pull this phone call over a particular type of wine that I was simultaneously drinking and reading about.

Listened to Dr. John Hall, on Truthstream Media for an hour; interesting that he has a book out, and a second one early in 2014.

One of the mentioned targeted individual complaints is tinnitus, which came on strong after the perps first outed themselves in their shock and awe show they put on my apartment in Seattle, 04-2002. The Thousand Points of Light show also came on each time I went to bed, then and now,- magnetophosphene reactions to electronic harassment I now learn. I still get the TPL show each time I turn the lights out. Though, even in the daytime there are so many visual and light perturbances at every moment, daytime or night, that I have given up on the classification, apart from the main categories of masers (black fuzzy zingers or streaks) and plasma flashes (any shape or form, but colored).

Came across on account of above interview. I get depressed over the prevalence of organized harassment such that I wither when encountering activist organizations. Maybe my readership will find value in this link. And a link page on their site too. Why are the perps hammering me tonight over making links by screwing me out of getting the intended words selected (Windows copy, cut paste), and the blue selection hopping over the very word I want?

Targeted Individuals Canada is another site that has sprang up in my multi (more than three) year absence from TI activist sites.

Busy at the small winery today, and was about to take lunch at an irregular time, 1130h, and lo, if the boss wasn't waiting for me at the location (seat) I was to have lunch at. He didn't know my plans, nor when I was to be taking lunch, but there he was warming the seat for me. Which turned out to be the second time in the day that he had to sit where I sat, latterly performing some kind of fact finding quest of the futile kind.

A near vehicular highway collision, this dumbshit pulls a L turn from a R side arterial with the most minimal room for error, when he could of gone at least 5 seconds earlier to make it safer. Not only did he have incredibly bad judgement to end up 30' on front of my bumper while I was traveling at 80pkph (50mph), he had the strangest need (read, managed look) to not look where he was going, but to stare at me bearing down on him.

An online order for a NAS now two weeks old, and no shipment yet. They had one in stock but somehow it has not yet shipped and they won't answer my email as to what is going on. I suspect delivery will be timed to when I am away so it gets to sit around in its box for some weeks until I get back.

More online display games; I return to a stereo/cinema equipment review site, and lo, if the stars and the prices didn't disappear. I don't think I have seen an unadulterated page for over 10 years.

After a virtual shut-in day yesterday, I am in the role of house sitting at the place where I am working. Imagine all the correlations they can make with the owners' energies by having me stay overnight here for two weeks. The owners are away in Texas for two weeks, and so that would also fit the long running perps' scheme around air travel, airports and the whole thing they about distances and elevation from Earth.

And so these postings will dry up over the next six weeks as I am house sitting and then travelling to the First Feral Family house in Victoria, British Columbia, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Yogic Mondays

No yoga last week by dint of extra work to get done last Friday, so I changed to Monday (today) to keep myself limber. As always, yoga and all its spinal stretching and contortions is of intense perp interest, and the instructor has twice intimated the involvement of another party. At the end of a class some four weeks ago, he said, "thanks for coming, and especially for those who came on short notice." Sounds like organized arrangement to me. And also, only an operative would have permission to say that; the hoi polloi abettors would be most uncomfortable alluding to an organized crime.

This time the very limber and yoga experienced Tall Girl, at least 6'1", was beside me, of note because two weeks ago they hid her behind a central pillar in the room. And she has very long arms and legs I came to notice from across the room some time ago. Or, at least, the perps had me looking at her more than I would of, as I make a point of not staring at anyone. As always, this particular Tall Girl has incredible balance and yoga posture, and can outstretch me in most poses. And one tattoo case directly behind me on the girl with the 2' long hair who I never did get a look at for the hair hanging down. Not a big deal, as I don't get to yoga more than once per week as the perps don't seem to like the idea of me working out much more than that. They shut down hiking in 2006 when I had to give up my vehicle, and I have only returned to it this year, and only every three weeks or so in the summer time..

Extra unconventional abuses this Monday; they had me rage-ified by pulling food out of my mouth and sending it to the floor, flicked additional food around, including hot cooking oil, though not on me, pulled items from my grasp so they could be sent to the floor at my feet. At the very moment of screaming at the assholes, why, my teeth came down on the remaining food in my mouth and my tongue contacted an very salty food surface. Funny how that "happens".

A day of fucking hell, enabled by having the vineyard owners departing for supplies; I was racking wine and no end of things went wrong, and more than one recall failure that I never experienced before all this abuse descended upon me. At  least 20 rage-ifications over the day, all of them in the afternoon, once the owner's family visitation was over. I was doing the same thing before they came with little problem; racking (transferring and leaving the wine sediment behind) out of a bin to a close lidded container. They arrived with winery supplies and I helped them unload them. A they were parked in the middle of my working area I couldn't continue with my winemaking activity. They had lunch there, I had it with them as there was nothing else I could do. After they departed, everything went wrong, duly arranged by the assholes who have the ability to cause "mishaps" and all manner of teleportational and telekinetic directed abuses.

As part of the abuse stream, the pumps got clogged somehow, one pump after the other. I had already pumped two tanks with no problem, but this third time the pump didn't operate at full speed, and there was no seeming source of the problem (in conventional physical terms). I unclogged the intake screen a number of times to no avail, the perps also opened up my hand to have the nut driver fall into the wine. Later they had an O-ring pop off the pipe union and into the wine. A regularly used quick connect tool wouldn't connect for the first time in a year since I built it, and they scrambled me around on additions before letting me get it right.

There were people around today, so no sustained abuse, and the perps let me have a reasonably competent today.

The perps dozed me off at work after lunch time for 20 minutes or so, while the co-owner was sleeping upstairs on  her heavy medications as she has back pain. Another first for the assholes, as I never feel tired in these circumstances, even with a lot less sleep.

An after work visit to the specialty grocery store got me a rude gangstalker episode. I went there to get coffee and put it in the grinder, and lo, if these two Fuckwits, a most unlikely pair, didn't suddenly arrive and start hanging around me as they too were shopping for coffee. And not just idly, but comparing different brands and the like, and then encroaching on personal space where they reached for something near my feet. At that point I called them out and asked if they had any manners, and the one male dick said "sorry". Finally, after the coffee grinder had finished and I was no longer captive, I got the fuck out of there and to the checkout. One customer was ahead and she did her best to protract the scene for at least two minutes. In the meantime, this woman with long grey hair arrives and posts herself like a sentry 10' away at the end of the closest aisle and is unusually obvious as she isn't shopping. She then licks her lips for no reason. With all the gangstalkers in the store I thought that someone else would arrive to follow me in the checkout. But no, it was the weird coffee stalking pair, purchasing three bags of the same kind of coffee that was being replaced by this latest purchase. As before, coffee in all its brown-ess and whatever other properties it confers to the perps has been one of their most consistent props over the 11.5 years of this insane deranged Fuckover.

Yoga again on a Friday; what a zoo. Some 18 others or so, up from 7 or 8 of us at the last same weekday time. The long haired dude with the vile tattoos was there, artfully arranging himself halfway along the sightline I had on the instructor. Said instructor, male with additional Unfavored attributes of large gut, bald head and fugly shorts is assigned to all the advanced yoga classes, presumably to keep me from getting distracted by cute young female instructors. Another skinheaded (much Unfavored) male looked like an emancipated lab rat, and thankfully he stayed out of my view for the entire class. It wasn't all bad, as they put a lithe dancer girl in front of me for directing my gaze in the direction of above mentioned tattoo case.

The vineyard owner came back from being away for a 10 days, and was full of his usual pissy-ness. There was a reason though, as the red wine that he insisted on filtering, had an oxidation problem. Said owner insisted on filtering this wine, in two separate instances, over my objections to each. On the fourth filtering pass, in which I told him yet again that there was no need to filter, he finally listened to me. The wine got beat up by the filtering and he seemed to think that I was the culprit when I made additions to prevent oxidation. Anyhow, I got to get a different gig, as the dynamic is getting poisonous; the "told you so" list is getting far too long. Which is something the perps have always liked to inject into my existence; have belligerent incompetants screw thing up so they would be deemed saboteurs.

Saturday, and laundry at the laundromat, this being a first with a low freak/Unfavored count; only one other. He was an apparent cowboy (hat), arriving in this ridiculous red colored Ford station wagon and brought his laundry in ahead of me to then sit it on a table while he improbably looked around at notices on the walls, not getting on with laundry. (Who does that unless guided by others?) Naturally (ahem) he had his two red shirts spilling out of his bag onto the table when I passed by. I load my washing machines, switching one that I had loaded due to some odd colored liquid in the detergent. (To take away the excuse of bleach spotting sabotage). Said cowboy was on his cell phone at that moment, (while I was engaging in the financial transaction of putting money in the coin box), and he got my attention for a second as I thought he was talking to me. I get my two loads started, and why, he has gone, when my last look at him was that he was loading his washing machine. As I pass by, his load is loaded, save those red shirts on the table. All to make this scenario more contrived, as who on earth departs in the middle of loading one's laundry? He had the money to get detergent from the dispensing machine, so what was so important that he had to leave then? It wasn't the phone call, as he initiated the call, and was loading his washing machine after the call. As always, the perps are totally bent out of shape over me doing laundry, even stealing clothes back in the terror-struck days of 2002. And too, the relentless amount of fuckery that "happens" to laundry; loose thread eruptions, accelerated fabric wear, hairs from somewhere on the clean clothes, bleach spots when I didn't use any and even spots of oil on the clothes (read on) that were not there when I put the clothes in the washing machine.

The assholes spotted my new cotton shirt, one that got altered when new, with oil on the front and back. The usual routine; apply Shout, soak, and then re-wash manually in the kitchen sink and then spread out to dry on a towel. (No laundry facilities in this residence). All to have said shirt "join" the synthetic fabric clothes drying on the drying rack nearby, as I only dry cottons (towels and bedclothes mainly) in the dryer at the laundromat. So it would seem that the perps need to compare the energetics of a twice laundered item (laundromat and residence) to the once laundered items (laundromat only) that were already drying on a rack inside after the washing cycle completed. And too, they love the color changes, a huge game for them,- the darker color of a wet item that slowly dries and now becomes dark green, its natural color when dry. Not forgetting that this dark green shirt was purchased after someone, somehow, spotted the olive green shirt (identical garment type,- long sleeve stretch cotton fabric) with bleach at the aforementioned laundromat, about 6 weeks ago. And lo, if there wasn't any olive green shirts to replace the one that was sabotaged with their bleaching games they like to do. And too, this shirt had a collar that went up my neck and I had it altered before I wore it, and that took two weeks before the alterations person finished it. And not forgetting that I bought this shirt under First Feral Family conditions; my brother's store with my sister-in-law and mother present. Talk about a storied and targeted shirt for nefarious purposes that only the perps would know about.

A two hour nap attack this afternoon, and the sleep was not needed as I slept for two extra hours last night. Obviously the timing was important, as it was the dusk transition; lying down when daylight 1615h, and getting up while dark, 1815h.

All week there was a show I wanted to catch tonight, and lo, if I didn't get skunked in that it was sold out when I finally got to make the call about noon today. Like WTF; a new musical act, very low on the radar ($14 ticket), and I had listened to them online, then every day this week I meant to call to reserve a ticket, and when the perps finally let me call, (it is quite plain my recall is routinely fucked with), they arrange for the show to be sold out. I cannot count the number of times the perps arranged "dashed expectations", often many inside a week. Besides, I have been to this venue before, and presumably they have the place and staff ordered and organized to participate in the gangstalking and the rest of this contrived reality.

The perps woke me in the night for two hours of awake time, having the recent past replayed again and again. Why, when they do this all day?

Windows Cut and paste are getting messed with, another favorite perp stunt now gaining prominence from past remissions. They seem to like to have the blue colored reversed font flash and display part of what I have selected, and then go on to screw my motor coordination to have the line and/or paragraph highlighted, and then go back to screwing with the display for multiple words. Having added some recent links to the TI Blogs static page, the exact same thing occurred two days in succession.

And a shut-in Sunday today; constant dark grey clouds and a whole lot of demotivation keeping me house bound. Additionally, the perps have added some kind of diaphragm region muscle aches (pain pangs), and anytime I shift position I get this muscle spasm around my diaphragm, causing pain and breathing difficulties. No weekends off as a TI. It has been getting worse all day, and it might come down to crawling about to relieve this specific symptom.

Three new-to-me TI blogs I have found, being mysteriously motivated when I haven't looked for any for at least three years.

Targeted Individual Connections to the bigger picture, plus the Collection of Targeted Individual Sources.
Ramblings of a Targeted Individual  Homelessness and much duress at the basic survival level.
Fortnight Transmissions About surveillance and gangstalking; calm and measured- a welcome tonic to the harassed TI.
Escape Australia (177pp PDF) has many similar descriptions of gangstalking as my own, though interestingly the perps didn't force the couple apart.

The mid-rib muscle pangs of pain continue to erupt as I attempt to do normal things; looking at my watch got me such pain, as did moving around in the kitchen, when sitting down. I hope this type of debilitation is over tomorrow.

Other games going on with increased frequency are the perps playing with font sizes and line spacing of web pages. I return to a web page and find the font shrunk down. Of late, the Firefox bookmark manager has taken to spacing the links by an extra half line space.

And I see my keyboard is acting up, and that I got a mid-rib muscle pain as I started this very sentence; time to call it done for a week and see what next comes my way.

Saturday, November 02, 2013

Soil Digging & Plastic Bagging

At the vineyard I dug over the vegetable patch, 12'x12' or so. The aisles between the row of plants had been covered with black plastic as well as a landscape fabric all summer long. And as the perps are so berserk over plastic and soil independently, why this was a perfect set up for them to apply extra aircraft (and noise) as well as other noise events, like the hot-rod like muffler noise of vehicles "happening" by. And of course, the noise is arranged for much longer durations it once did (last year), along with the etheric disturbance of the vehicle itself, its color, as well as the driver and passengers. It all begins to make (some) sense when one applies the notion of an energetic ether, and that all objects and life are perturbing the ether, and the case of the latter, serving as unwitting, save for gangstalkers, bio-field interaction agents.

The grocery and organics specialty store in town has a 20% off on the last Wednesday of the month. Which is an excuse for the perps to pack it full of gangstalking personnel, and have them show up at every turn and swamp the checkouts. Though this time, they put on at least six Tall Girls/Women who had an inordinate ability to find me in the next aisle or wherever I was, even the checkout, and keep at least one of them around me. And only one was decent looking to warrant a second glance, she of some 20' away and for some reason, scratching her hair as if undecided, though it did appear rather force. And then they placed another tall woman standing near the checkout, somehow finding room to converse with their "pal', and doing a slow rotation for me to witness her from various head angles. It would seem the the perps are still looking at how I process facial shapes, edges and lines from various angles. Back in 2008 they could defeat my visual processing of attractive women; I once read that humans can determine attractiveness in 0.006 of a second, which seemed to me mostly correct, being a near instant determination. But as of 2008 they could freeze/obstruct this determination and leave me such that I just wouldn't know.

The Halloween thing today, but thankfully I am spared from this, as I live in a self-contained suite that has no road front.

A busy day of red wine pressing, with the key helper being unavailable, which meant that yesterday's cleaning was negated as we went with the less labor intensive alternative of using the tractor to press down on the grapes with a board over them in a holed bin for the juice to flow into a receiving bin below. It works, though not to the level of a proper winery press.

There is a local handyman employed to run the tractor when the owner is away, and he gave me a lesson on how to do this in his absence. (Grape pressing is usually done over several hours of incremental additions of pressure). I got my first tractor lesson, one lever in one direction only, after turning in the machine.

With all this red color activity, the perps had a field day in adding extra aircraft noise and neighborhood dog barking and vehicular noise.

Then this silly nonsense over the pH meter, normally a winemaker's instrument of first recourse. It was borrowed by other family members twice this year, coming back without the manual, and then being re-borrowed again, but finally returned with the manual. But as I have been so busy, I hadn't set it up, and family members have taken the pH and other measurements at their business. Today, a local neighbor needed a pH on his tractor oil, and when I set it up, after answering a phone call from the remote vineyard owner, why, the pH meter wouldn't work as the DC transformer connection was so loose. Anyhow, that was all that could be done.

The vineyard owners and family kept me hopping from task to task, constantly coming and going leaving me to run something that shouldn't of been abandoned. As we had bottling and red grape pressing going, and relative newbies to the bottling, I was kept in constant task switching. And one of the family members was on the cell phone most of the time, a localized asymmetric EMF field at the head as I have come to know by way of the much intensified occurence of this event in my proximity. And in all this, the perps managed to have red wine spill down the side of my pants, onto and into my gumboots. One could say they were intensely managing for this extra red color on me, as they haven't allowed red clothing colors on me for at least 15 years.

And more messing with the pH meter again, after I had given it up for good, as the local handyman brought his electrical test gear. It seems to be fixed now, though I had no time to calibrate it, only to put it in cleaning solution, and later, storage solution.

I had so many loose ends to attend with at the end of the day that I missed yoga. That is, the exercise and not the weird instructor nor the odd weirdo male (usually male, save the tattoos on some females) that "happens" to disturb the esthetic (ether too?).

And what is with the increased, as in doubled or more, instances of vehicular gangstalkers driving over the yellow  center-line (oncoming and lead-ahead) as well as over the white shoulder line? In the lead-ahead situation, the diver will straddle the centerline and then come back to then straddle the white shoulder line. Could they be testing the vehicular interaction, and possibly the occupants, with the colored road surface, alternating between yellow and white?

And pit-lamping is rife; anytime I get into or or out of my vehicle in a parking lot, I can now count on some asshole aiming their headlights on me. And they raised the ante this week, by having a close pit-lamper (under 50' away) and one further (250' away) at the same time. And it would seem to me that vehicle color is also important in this insane exercise. Even the RCMP (Royal Canadian Mendacious Plods) were at it, pointing their headlights from a stopped vehicle oblique to the road direction.

Which then led to the MIB Suburban that likes to crawl around me sometimes. Not only black colored but blacked in tinted windows, and some kind of extra aerial on it. The driver/operative was making a L. turn in front of me as I was stopped at a traffic control, and while doing so, the male driver was staring at me while making his turn off the highway.

evening; pit lamping galore, bum at tanning salon, RCMP and the MIB Suburban that crawls around sometimes (no military here, not RCMP, so who are they?), with the driver/Fuckwit staring at me as he was making his L. turn in front of me as I was stopped at the traffic control. Like WTF; a mean assed bend on the highway limits the distance by which one can gauge oncoming traffic speed, and here his is finding time making this turn to stare at me. As far as I know, there is nothing to usual for anyone to stare at me, and her is another example, this time a likely operative Fuckwit.

More rage-ifications come on, as in screamingly infuriated, ten or so times when returning via vehicle. Twice this evening when returning first from the vineyard, and later from the tanning salon. Funny how that "happens".

An evening of music listening and pondering if there is some kind of planned sonic similarity between Lorde, a recent pop phenom, and Katie Mellua. In addition to this, the recent infatuation with Basia Bulat and her recent album begat much listening to music tonight. I don't know what the perp's angle is on arranging my music is, but in the least, they have a profound need to research why I like some female singers and their songs, and song phrasings, and not others. Not my problem; so why am I the centerpiece of a 11.5 year non-consensual research experiment that delivers relentless abuse as it main means to further the objectives of the Psychopathic Division of the Fourth Reich?

Maybe it is the onset of daylight savings time that has caused the perps to go so extra silly and abusive. It is a Saturday, and a day off, though I work tomorrow as the winery is so behind on things; we need to bottle to free up a tank of 2012 vintage so the 2013 vintage, alcoholic fermentation completed, has a place to go. That is, has a tank with no air space above it, as the boss had to learn the hard way that one should not do that. Ergo, 900L of cider got spoiled from an Acetobacter  that he tried to limit with keeping it cool and not letting me deal with it. Imagine; bottling, fermenting and harvesting all at the same week.

Back to the perps, who also nailed me with a two hour nap attack when I did not need the sleep in any way. They timed it so that I would take my glass bottles to the recycling center only to find them closed down at 1630h. All day they have been rage-ifying me with pokes and jabs from no visible source, sending me to the wrong drawer/cupboard, having me retrieve the wrong item, initiate things that just don't work, (e.g. using the hand blender to reduce some green tomatoes, which didn't work as they were too hard), and plenty of other abuses, down to obstructing the acto of inserting items in an envelope.

In a fit of irregular post-lunch diligence, I cleaned the bathroom shower stall, sink and floor today, and the perps had the sponge or cleaning cloth "happen" to catch on something and thereby flick a spray of its contents at me. After most lunch times, even if I eat very little, the perps have me de-energized and listless, all to coral me to go online in a much more passive activity. And in doing so, they run all those beams of whatever they put through the LCD monitor, as well as the color contents and all what research they extract from that.

As regular readers will know, the perps are totally managing the ambient light levels as well as all the pit-lamping headlights I get so much more of now. And going to work in the vineyard a half hour early (in the dark) this week brought on a doubling of the seeming commute traffic as well as the equi-spaced oncoming vehicle trains on the two lane road I take. That is correct; as of this week, traveling earlier in the morning begets more vehicular gangstalking road traffic. And as most vehicles have their headlights on, why, it is a perfect perp setup. And of course, there are the strange exceptions where someone has only their running lights on, seen as yellow lights when oncoming. In this long-time mandatory headlight country, how is it that they can do that? My vehicle is a 1998 Toyota Camry, and there is no way I can turn on the running lights alone, the headlights stay on. But as the perps like to change up the headlight kinds from LED, halogen, tungsten filament, so do they like to change the colors. A recent motorcycle had six lights on it, something that is exceedingly rare here, and possibly illegal, as I have never seen it before, though they do it in Europe.

And I see my daughter and my ex didn't want me to attend our daughter's convocation next week, giving me a whole 5 days notice, which wasn't doable in travel terms. As she graduated in June, I would imagine the convocation date was known by then, though no one gave me a firm date when I asked at the time. Just another jerkaround in the First Feral Family, aka the Quisling Family.

Posting early this week as I will be busy tomorrow.