Sunday, December 22, 2013

Morning Time Hindering

My perp-abetting mother upped the ante this morning by crossing my path twice, and then "needing" to use the space I am at in the kitchen, and after I relocated, needed that space too. This follow-me fuckery just drives me wild, and all the more so on account of the seeming ditz act (her), and too, screwing me out of effective countermeasures/recall or getting out of the scene altogether.

The usual shower whine shouldn't go unmentioned, even if it is every day here at the First Feral Family house. It is a "feature" that follows me wherever I inhabit; motels, past residences etc. This amazing plumbing "problem" somehow conveniently changes in pitch as I transition from torso to legs to face to hair with no other users changing the water pressure.

A day of outside soil digging; the raised beds I built for my mother about 6 years ago, are full of cedar and pine roots that grew from underneath. These are two boxes are even lined with landscape fabric, but the roots got in anyhow. All the soil is from compost I made at this here FFF, and these beds serve as my mother's vegetable garden, even if she put ornamental grasses in this year for the first time.

And it is almost identically repeatable from the last two days, the perp noises and events; overhead aircraft, neighbors that somehow arrive and make noise in their backyard, school kid voices and yelling, the tapping noise eruptions and the circle-the-block with the noisy performance mufflered vehicles. And have I mentioned how the perps just love me to be digging in soil, especially recent compost originated soil. Yesterday it was the same, though a little different in that I put a large bag of peat moss in, (read "browning" around). And too, I was cutting the offending tree roots from the bed, also a big perp deal, root handling.

And why is it I am constantly put through cycles of "shopping', aka coveting objects online usually and then getting fucked into so many different options so that I get totally stalled out? This is a perp game for sure, as I don't have the bucks for many things, and here they are, having me check out audiophile level audio equipment that is major $$. The add-on this re-current theme of imposed "needing" is a server rack to store all my electronic gear in one orderly stack. I was at the cusp of ordering a server rack online and then got suddenly cheap, and am now sifting through Craigslist for a cheap used one instead. Add in the fact that server racks typically come up for sale in larger cities, e.g. Vancouver in this province, and are much less frequent in Victoria (where I am until the first week of Jan. 2014) and all the more so when residing in Penticton. Can we say senseless churning of intention with mind-planted imagined rationales (read, planted contrary notions) to divert action? Usually they plant a reason for bailing on actually ordering, followed by spiking my interest/intentions altogether. Though another frequent stunt is to take down the web pages when ordering/paying. For the record, it is about aforementioned stereo gear (an outboard DAC, or an all-in-one player, speaker kind/make) and even getting my PC into a rack mountable case, instead of its floor dwelling location. Like whatever; this better-homes-and-gardens imposed need to be neat freak does get so very silly at times. (Though to be accurate, I am a natural neat freak, but only for the last six months have I thought of putting all my gear into a single racked stack). And also, the long past (pre-2002) is fraught with stereo gear that wasn't used much owning to life fuckery conditions that evolved shortly thereafter, and there was plenty of armchair shopping over that at the time.

A major garden dig of the raised bed in the backyard, a 4'x8' and 2' high box of landscape ties that I erected some six years ago, and even lined with landscape fabric, the tree roots got through this one as well. As usual, extra neighbor noise and overhead aircraft erupted, and they even put on a Sea King helicopter, which I don't see (yet) when living in Penticton. (Though they put on the SAR EH-101 Cormorant for at least five passes once). All that black soil and all those tree roots I had to prune are major perp interests, and hence, the extra aerial coverage. Even the absent W neighbor, a retired deputy police chief, came by to tend to some Christmas lights and once done, was gone again. Odd that some neighbors inhabit their houses while others nearly abandon them here at the FFF house. But this has been the case all round, since 2011, where it seemed an apartment entire floor was vacated.

More crisscrossing my path by the FFF mother this am, aided by a get-up screw-around, getting sacked for a 9.5 hour sleep, and finally getting up at 0940h. As of a few days ago, I set the alarm clock for 0800h, and lo, if I didn't just turn it off and go back to sleep. 

More yoga at the farm worker colleague's place last evening, this time the video featured negroes, one male, one female behind the Caucasian instructor. Talk about a made-for-me Unfavored show. And of course with someone there I couldn't (or more like, wasn't allowed to) insist on another video. The sole video babe instructor of last time would of been just fine, but I am nott allowed to dwell on Favoreds for long, before they get swapped out for Unfavoreds. And of course, as I see it, a serious negro display going on of late from all quarters, with Mandela's funeral coverage and extra negro reporters on the CBC among others and even the local newspaper. All of which erupted within a week of me arriving at the FFF for this month long stay.

Talking to the farm-worker colleague was an exercise in uninvolved discourse; I did the talking mostly, she made the odd broad statement for me to babble about, and then she did the non-responsive nodding in agreement routine. Stranger than usual, but that has been the way is has been for 11.5 years; not everyone, and not every time , but at least 20% of conversational engagements either lapse into this or a variant, that being a sudden and unexpected termination of the conversation, usually when it gets going.

And lo, if the perps didn't smear the L lens of  my glasses again, like last time, which is what they have done in formal yoga classes for the past six months.Though in the latter instance, they started with the one L lens, and now smear both at some point during class. And as far as I can tell, it has nothing to do with instructor attractiveness/Favored-ness.

The FFF perp-abetting was mother cough-stalking me when making edit changes, erupting at the very moment that I added a letter"o" to a word. Other FFF stalking is when I am plucking hairs outside my beard area off my face which begets extra plastic object rattling/flapping and pounding the stairs nearby. A few nights ago, dropping her foot on the floor in the living room while watching TV, and having the resulting vibration shake me in my chair 8' away.

Now pm; Almost a carbon copy of yesterday; FFF mother crossing my paths, and working outside on the raised vegetable garden bed with overhead aircraft. A single engine prop aircraft was doing the circling, and then played cut-the-engine games. Later the Sea King helicopter, the heli-jet, prop driven passenger aircraft, and lastly, the SAC bomber noise (now called Aircraft Strike Command). And too, neighbor noise eruptions, with the additon of the recycle garbage trucks (different from the Saanich refuse collection) which "happened" to stop at the house opposite of the backyard, and then male voices were heard jabbering away for 20 minutes. Then both trucks proceeded in opposite directions. I have seen these guys work, and they hustle, and have never had two trucks on this route in this neighborhood, but did today for some reason. Never mind this ridiculous confab of males while running the engines for 20 min. at around 1300h.

My perp-abetting mother' foot is moving to be seen in my peripherial vision; talk about restless legs, I thought it was a sleeping condition, and here we have it at waking moments and it has been totally consistent the two weeks I have been here. And consistent going back 10 years, when both FFF parents were here, often crossing or uncrossing their legs at the identical moment without them looking at each other.

Always potentially extra gangstalk prone, the solstice. Add on that I started a new shaving razor insert today, the last of a set of five, and a front torso shave along with the daily beard shaving, and you have gangstalking inanity. Only a short trim out, that became two trips as I rented a red colored deep stud scanner from that orange place, HD. Even my perp-abetting mother feigned to be interested in the results of a professional stud scanner, adding in several wall locations where I was to find them so she could hang pictures. Given her incremental batshit wacko persona I get treated too, it was a remarkable piece of recall on her part. Such is the variabilty of perp abetting behavior. And too, hanging around me and doing finger pointing and stepping into the very location I was standing at as soon as I vacated it. Add in some physical jabs to "tell me" about another wall location, and it is a tribute to mind control that I didn't take her quisling head off. Remotely invoked dociling behavior isn't anything new to me, as the perps must surely know I have no time for betraying scum, FFF Judas' all.

Then yesterday, the mere act of reading a library book (an important distinction as to where it came from), begat my perp-abetting mother on a looney monologue about Christmas paper, and she even retrieving some and showing it to me. Said book was about the Bordeaux region wines and viticulture. It is fucking bizarre that I cannot be left alone to read a book, some 15 min. into it. Though, recall in the summer of 2012 when I started a recently acquired used book on viticulture and then the perps took me down for a five hour nap (a record mid-day nap duration), and no preceding sleep deficit to account for the sleep "need". Paper rustling preceded and followed the above Christmas paper display, another of her new-found habits while staying at the FFF house. Only two more weeks to go, woo-hoo.

Snow yesterday, some 3" and then light rain all day to melt it. The perps kept me inside for most of the day, until my in-town brother came later to remove the garden waste that I had created when doing some judicious pruning here at the FFF house. Of course he wore his usual smirk when he arrived for me to see; I have already told him a year ago that his smirk will be the first thing I would attend to when free from this insane mind-fuck abuse, as in ripping it off his face. He didn't seem too concerned, and likely that was what he expected, per rehearsals. Said brother suddenly became too lazy to move the garden waste into his van, and so I had to do it, getting wet and getting some brown colored splatter on my coat.

The perps let me out today though, getting a wine making supply item as they screwed me around two days ago, when I got there at 1010h only to find that the store opened at 1030h. Of course they were all over me with vehicular gangstalking after a "skunk", aka dashed expectations.

Though today, at above mentioned store, with no other customers in the store and while paying for the item, a Fat Girl came in, and lo, if she didn't get into my L side peripheral vision with her hand first, reaching for an item some 5' away. The number of Fuckwit games over peripherial vison, from each side and from below is simply astounding. (The Walmart staff member's almost-chest butting incident of a year ago would be an example of the latter). And lo, if the Fat Girl didn't have a copper colored vehicle parked next to mine (my mother's slightly brownish silver colored Ford Escape). Can the perps get enough of this wretched copper color in my face? I don't think so, especially the red tinged copper colored ones.

Then when asking the proprietor about a wine making ingredient, she invokes the "husband" term, something the perps like to have mentioned wherever I go. And there is no rational reason for this, as  I don't chase any women, and never have. Besides, it would be smart to check for a ring first. Back in 2002, the supposed on-off girlfriend, Ms C. of the story, asked me over for dinner once as we hadn't met for a few weeks, and there she was wearing a look-like diamond engagement ring on her L. ring finger. I later asked about her marital status and she said she wasn't engaged, though didn't really explain what the ring was about. I thought it was strange that she didn't mention anything up front, but all behaviors considered, she must of been an operative for the Psychopathic Confederacy. (And yes, she was a Fat Girl, though under 200lb).

And the now-usual extra numbers of street personnel, bus stops especially, were out this last Saturday before Christmas. And lo, if they didn't put on at least four waddling males in various locations for this 20 minute driving trip. All four in shorts for crissakes, on this misty wet day. Maybe they wanted extra Fat Man exposure, following the introduction of one at the HD tool rental desk, wearing brown no less. He was most helpful, belying his inertial state, and showing me the deep scanning stud finder features. If I don't like the sight of fat people, I cannot understand why it is a 11.5  year long insane, but organized, stalking/planting theme over two countries. Go fuck yourselves, all of you in the Psychopathic Confederacy. (My polite name for the Thems).

More manipulations as to what I wore this morning, and later "forgetting". The assholes fucked me out of bringing my shirt from the shared bathroom at this FFF house, and by the time I realized it, only five seconds after I had exited the bathroom, why, my perp-abetting mother had occupied the bathroom.All my clothes were in the same pile, and I put on the jeans and then got totally scrambled to "forget" to retrieve my navy blue shirt. It seems the perps wanted me to wear a navy blue sweater with turquoise trim instead. And also screwed me out of putting on an undershirt which I always do, because of long-running games of making my sweaters get sweaty, and then cleaned more often. The kicker is that the FFF washing machine lays on more lint onto clothes than they had on them when placed in the washing machine. Only the dryer saves the day. And have I not mentioned the ceaseless and senseless fuckery over laundry, detergent choice as well as lint and hairs, sometimes teleported onto my face? Not often enough, as lint and hair eruptions are a non-stop harassment game every day and I sense my readership would become tired of the tedious repetition. The latest being that plucked facial hairs, (a new "habit" for 2013) removed from the tweezers and dropped into the sink, have an unerring knack for arriving back on my face, usually an inch or less than where they were pulled from.

The third sequential day of a light mist rain; very unusual for Victoria (in duration), unlike Vancouver. It is keeping me inside for one, and the back yard work to be completed (compost pile and raised vegetable garden bed) remains unfinished. The countless games over compost pile building and re-working is too long to recount here, but of interest, the main pile is covered over, and the compostable material in the vegetable  bed is not. And of course there are some leaks in the blue plastic tarp covering the main compost pile, those all-important (to the perps and their endless games as to the source of water) exceptions/bypasses they demand.

And the suburban neighbor opposite began "dieselling" his Ford pickup (white with faux wood brown panels) much earlier at 0815h, and actually drove it away after 20 min. of idling instead. (Unlike his prior 20 min. dieselling warm ups to then drive around the block). His new-found "habit" (since the harassment began 04-2002) of having it sit in the driveway and idling for a half hour and more, and then shutting it down, has not gone unnoticed. There have been plenty of other gangstalking idling diesel engined vehicles that have done the same. Other TI's have noted it too; my suspicion is that the high compression (greater stresses on the engine block) gives off a different EMF signature and pertubs the ether differently than a gasoline engine. Other speculations are that the different fuel properties does something similar, and we all know who likes to hound/gangstalk innocent victims with fuel tanker trucks (heating oil, gasoline, diesel), don't we?

And I see they changed the TV schedule tonight, putting on yet more news instead of the scheduled documentary on the CBC News Channel (20 here). I am now covering my L. peripherial side with my hand to avoid seeing this idiotic, frenetic and pointless foot movements and instead she started making more breathing and rustling noise, culminating in her pounding the floor with her foot to then send a vibration up my spine, possibly with some extra-conventional physics fuckery. Then she got up and left the room when she always watches 60 Minutes. The perps have no tolerance for successful defences in my case, rare as they are owing to remotely-invoked full-on cognitive befuddlement as/when needed.

And at least four days of web browsing desktop audio/stereo components, specifically a DAC (digital to Analog Converter), seems to be a high perp cause to have me decide, (but not take purchasing action) and then plant new plans the next to then force a new choice. This stupid game has gone from all-in-one players (CD, CAD, amp) to DAC's with headphone amps, to a little USB box with wires (least expensive) to then rework the last item three times (1x/day) with different models/features. Not only that, they saddle me with unreasonable "needs" (must display the file name/song/artist etc.) that are very rare except for portable players, largely owing to the many different DAC designs and features. Back in 2000, before this insane abuse began in 04-2002, they had me shopping for stereo speakers and coveting a certain pair that I never purchased. And here we are again, 13 years later, doing the same thing, though this time starting with a backup NAS computer.

Sunday night now, when I usually post a week's worth of travails, and so onto the Christmas thing this week, and another week of captivity at the FFF house after that.


Anonymous said...

According to this document, MKULTRA officially started in 1953. However, from my experience, I believe that certain family members were targeted long before then. I'm thinking that MKULTRA is the official program by which TI's are targeted by, but maybe there were entities long before then that were involved in the nonconsensual human experimentation? It had to have been happening to family members of mine before 1953.

AJH said...

I suspect deep covert experimentation preparations were in place after WWII as the Thems didn't get all their non-consensual human research objectives fulfilled. There is nothing like a full-on war, especially with explosions from bombing of city regions to have the perps cranked as to their research agenda. My parents were married in 1952, so I suspect they were in the know before I came along in 1954. The Dr. Ewen Cameron mofo/abuser/torturer got his CIA funding start in 1952 in the name of psychiatric research (at McGill) and it seems that I might have been one of his child subjects in 1956-7, and 1958-59 as my father was taking a PhD in geology in-residence at McGill (Montreal) then. I suspect the intervening year was field work in northern BC as that is the region he researched in his thesis. I do have some fleeting recollections of that year, but in camp and field situations. And some fleeting urban recollections in 1956-57 when in Montreal, but that is all until 1959-60 when I began kindergarten in Victoria. I suspect the Thems were busy after WWII getting the CIA and other agencies arranged the way they wanted, plus whatever military re-organizations they saw fit to unwittingly carry on the abuse/non-consensual human research agenda. I think the 1952 MKULTRA start date is about right, not forgetting that the Thems had a serious interest in the psychic properties of LSD-25 (discovered in 1938) which unfolded in the 1950's as well. Thanks for the comments.