Sunday, September 28, 2014

Wine Making

I see the dosage amounts for a tannin product I use have been reduced from 10-30g/hL to 4-30g/hL with some accompanying copy as to when one might use what level. Last year I asked the wine supplies contact this very same question, and she looked it up and said use 10-30g/hL. Thanks honey, I can read too, and was hoping for some insight from an experienced winemaker, which she is.  (Same person as in a previous posting that was getting on my nerves for no seeming reason). Chances are I was adding too much tannin, and not getting full flavor and aroma expression. (No coincidence that the tannin product is a light brown powder is it?)

Yoga this Monday evening.... eight students in all, all women. some of the regulars came back, and the Star Girl is on my L again, after being on my R for a year. I see she put a wrist watch over her fugly star shaped tattoos on her L wrist. Tall and slender she is, and further catches my attention with her blonde hair, but beyond that she doesn't hold my interest. She was on my R side with two or three intervening yogis for the past year, and has now returned after an absence, on my L side. Which suggests that my R side is more energetic than my L side, which fits the ambulatory gangstalking scene where these Fuckwits go out of their way to pass me by on my R side. Sometimes they will scoot into a doorway to have extra clearance on my R side, and sufficient reason for me to give them a withering "are you nuts?" look.

At yoga they are now playing Eva Cassidy's "Fields of Gold", this time during the corpse pose part at the end. During this the pixie instructor came to adjust my feet for whatever reason, though this time she didn't suddenly grab them like twice before (and scare the shit out of me as I didn't hear or see her coming). For infrequent or new readers, I am  Eva Cassidy fan big time, and I even recently secured the No Boundaries CD, the only runt of the litter, so I could get her version of Natural Woman on  track 10. Back in 2000 when living in Seattle, I stopped at the B&N CD listening area and "happened" to select a Eva Cassidy CD, Songbird, and heard "Natural Woman" with a spine tingling sensation to go with it. Unusual for me to be so moved by music I thought then. A few weeks later I bought Songbird, but the Natural Woman track wasn't on it. And so it went for the next 7 CD releases for the next 10 years. Finally, I find it, and apart from the one track, the No Boundaries isn't up to the same high standard as the others. Anyhow, I finally "completed" on tracking this down, and it all started with the perps spoofing the listening stations a B&N.

Tuesday, and a perfectly dull one for the most part. In this gig, dull and boring is good.

They did start the day with a screaming age show though. I had just finished loading convenient containers of hemp seed that I purchase in bulk, and the assholes pulled the bulk bag from my hand and sent a 1/4 cup worth of hemp seed in all directions. It is just this kind of insane crap that prevents me from eating chia seeds as they would travel 5x further as they are like miniature ball bearings. I had to clean up the counter, the stove top, the sink and the floor. And adroitly aimed to "happen" on the whole 20" of useful counter length I have, slowing up my next activities. All that was worth five minutes of raging at the assholes because of the diverse clean up.

A stalker at the ATM, this time going to the one in a suburban shopping center, not the last stalked one downtown mentioned in my last posting. A deep  red vehicle, dressed in a deep red shirt and doing the bent over act at the open vehicle door when I arrived. Then she gets it together and tails me into the ATM, and hangs behind me about 6', visiting the window from the inside and then 10' back. When I got out, a red tractor was cruising the parking lot, and turned along the route I was going to head out, and I proceeded to go as I figured he was headed away from the parking lot cross road I was to pass through. And then the Fuckwit driver starts backing it up to get in my way. I decided there was enough room to get through, and as I did the tractor driver turns to the side for no reason, all for me to see that he was a negro. And we have had past negro gangstalking events at this very same ATM; one morning at least six months ago, a negro parking lot cleaner was doing his best to loiter in the front doors of the bank when I was headed to the ATM. A different negro than today's specimen, which begs the question as to how two different negroes got on the parking lot and landscape staff when they are rare as hen's teeth here? Dunno.

Wednesday; two interuption trends this week, so far.

Another post-dinner sleep-in-seat at home, the third this week, and seemingly all to have my dirty dinner dishes sitting on the counter all the time

And screwed out of time in the morning to preclude me from shaving under arms and waist. They pulled this Monday, not yesterday, but again today.

Another is the excessive pissing frequency that has come back. It came on about five months ago, and the urologist said to cut out coffee. So I did (on weekdays), and ergo, immediate result to normality. I have coffee on weekends and the same "problem" returns, but it is much more manageable. Now the problem has returned on weekdays with no prior coffee intake. A trend or not, it is too early to know. Next month I seen the urologist twit again, exactly in the middle of harvest and winemaking activities. No doubt to be a big gangstalking scene, going by last time's visit with my boss "happening" to be ahead of me by a few minutes in traffic, and the helicopter coverage just as I exited the doctor's office.

A rainy day in these normally sunny climes, and I got onto some inside work; the drip irrigation heads get routinely plugged up as the owners don't use filters on their irrigation lines, and there was at least 60 heads to clean up. Another idle-time task was sharpening the some 30 pairs of picking shears and pruners, most not having been used in the last year. I sharpened with my own carbide scraper cutter, as the vineyard ceramic stones would of taken forever.

There was some unconventional interference fuckery for both of the above tasks, threads for the dripper head halves wouldn't engage, and a pair of snippers took forever to put back together because the threaded nut had a habit of loosening without any apparent application of force.


Just wehn I though I would have an opportunity to get some extra employment hour during grape harvest and subsequent wine-making, I am to take 4 days off between now and then.

Maybe I can score some picking jobs somewhere, but so few come up on Craigslist, there must be an alternate job board/network somewhere. It could be a certain ethnic community that does intinerant work in the Okanagan Valley.

A dingy day; no sun, and almost no rain. I was doing 3 hours of leaf picking and the rain began to come one some 80' from the end of the row, and then it backed off. Same again when 40' from the end, and again it stopped to re-occur later when I was at the end of the same vine row.

The owner's dog has been doing extra barking while leaf plucking this week. It starts up when I begin, and turns it on for a while. I didn't wear my headphones today, so the dog didn't time barking according to headphone use like two days ago.

And I see the perps are busy cracking the plastic some more on the headphones, as depicted in my last blog posting.

A dusk onset outing with major vehicular coverage, not being reticent about going back the way they came stalkings, as in pointless vehicular outings unless on a gangstalking mission. A major mudded up pickup joined the fray for 5 minutes or so, first tailing me and then booting ahead and to my L to occupy the center lane for making a L turn as I went by.

Then to SOF supermarket, earlier than usual at 1915h, as I don't usually go to large supermarkets until after 2000h. I cannot count the the number of Fat Men about, waddling in their ridiculous baggy shorts to the knee or lower. A female member of the RCMP, (Royal Canadian Mendacious Plods) was my "greeter" gangstalk when I entered the store, and then she "found" me at the back of the store a few minutes later, and again, preceded me at the express checkout. And why would the RCMP be in uniform in a supermarket at 1930h? Are they going off shift or are they on duty? Or was it the case of Coca Cola (brown sugar water in red packaging) she had to show me?

This has been the first time I got a blatant ambulatory gangstalking from the RCMP or any other police force, though I suspect it is the combination of uniform (a definite Unfavored wrapped up in female form (generally Favored)). Then some 8 y.o. boy walks/runs toward me from 40' away with no one else in between at the produce section and arrives within 5' of me and then turns around without any eye contact, and skips back the same distance to where his presumed parent was. Then the same kid "happens" to tail me at the checkout with his fat father and elder sister who seemed to want to get behind my back while at the checkout. I couldn't get out of SOF fast enough as it was like Walmart, gangstalking-wise.

A Friday like a Saturday today, and not the first time the perps have activity "swaps" on other week days. This was a mandated day off, and as I take a all day forklift certification course Saturday, I won't be getting to my usual laundry, cleaning, shopping etc. So... it all got done today, a Friday. I have no idea why the perps like to set up habits on certain days of the week, sometimes for years, and then contrive events to have that habit/regular event take place on a sooner or later of the week. The shaving interuptions noted above fit this remotely invoked disruption pattern too.

Extra vehicular gangstalking accompanied me on my short trips to the laundromat and back. And the week-day laundromat lady attendant was there to help me out with the infernal coin slot as it wouldn't give back my dollar coin. And when she pressed the button, why, it returned the coin immediately. And have I not mentioned financial transaction harassment and gangstalking before? Like every other blog posting.

And why is it that the perps need to make me take a piss all the time? Some 20x on the day so far (1945h) and more due to having tea in an hour. For the record, even if a day off, I did NOT have coffee this morning. On weekends when I am allowed coffee, they exploit this by extra pissing games. Today, they chucked out all excuses and putative cover stories, and had a full on bladder assault all day.

With the sketchy weather of late, I sometimes don't wear my spandex shorts under my long pants as there is no point as there is no expected daytime warmth. Other days, when there is expected good weather, I will wear my shorts under my pants as it doesn't get warm in the vineyard until at least 0930h these days. It seems this clothing combination gets the perps worked up to then stiff me with urinary assaults, based on the timing of weather and clothing combinations. Just leaving me the fuck alone will do fine.

Yesterday, although a one time event thankfully, I was getting tools ready to take a 1.5L sample of red wine in the tank at work. I was all set to do so when a sudden need for a bowel movement came on, and what a load it was too. Volumes of a third or less have blocked this toilet for days, but somehow, it all went in one flush, the new standard since 2012. (I have been through ten years of toilet blocking in other words). So what did handling red wine to do with a prior visit to the crapper? As part of the perps harassment show, the colors of red, yellow and brown have been particularly troublesome for them and it would seem the perps wanted a "brown reading" just before getting a "red reading" (wine).

I got my legs waxed, this time by the obvious stalker student who pretended not to know me last time even if she gave me a treatment some 6 weeks earlier. This time she made friendly, though it seemed like I was talking to a wall at times. Normally waxing does not hurt, except the knees, but this time she covered an area that had been "forgotten" to past three waxings and lo, if that didn't hurt all of a sudden. I have no idea why the perps like to pull these on-off games, but they do. Of related note, back in 2004 when they were doing major whole body changes to me, they changed my level of pain sensitivity, so I was less sensitive to pain (thankfully), which supports the facial and chest hair plucking habit they laid on me in 2013 and still continues. But for some reason it seems the perps wanted a localized pain sensation for waxing. (The main other body changes in 2004 were that they straightened out my spine and changed my gait, age reversed me to 35 y.o. or so, made my R eyebrow 1/2" higher than my L and desensitized my throat region so hard liquor doesn't burn all the way down. And of course no one in my family mentioned the more obvious age regression to me, and the further ones since then).

I am now a certified fork lift operator, having taken the course today, and passed the exams. Five other dudes were the students, three from a charity business in Vernon. Only one was fat, and one had shorts, so I didn't get the full-on visual assault of the very Unfavored, just plain Unfavored as they are males over 20 yo. The usual gangstalking clustering around me when outside in the parking lot running the forklift. And one by one they separate from the cluster and go 15' away on the other side of the forklift, facing the opposite direction. Ho hum.

And lo, if I wasn't the last to do the exam, the experienced operators were first to get in and out. And lo, with the propane tank on empty, and the instructor's "concern" about the fuel running out in mid-course, and why, it just "happened" to run out when I was on my last practice. And lo, if the instructor didn't find the key for the lock on the full propane tank on the key ring of the forklift just then. So I helped him carry the full tank and mount it on its bracket after removing the empty tank. Then I took my practical exam after that.

Said pad locked propane tank served as a foil for the instructor to go and find building security personnel and try their key sets. They were in navy blue uniform with fricking shorts, these doddering duckies earning some weekend money to augment their pensions I presume. And too, one person who was decidedly not buidling security but somehow got asked to "help" was this very dark negro in an orange outfit and a rasta hat, one of those formless bag hats I loathe on sight. Anyhow, it was all a good show to see everyone doing well on fork lift operation, and for the first time in a week the sun came out and made it all the better. Yours truly did alright on the fork lift, and no major forced fuckups, save one minor zone-out event when I found myself lifting two empty pallets when we were to lift one. And I also got a visitation from the assholes in the form of red plasma blobs, about four of them when I was backing up, surely seen by the instructor, my only witness by then.

And too, I got strung out for no lunch and only had my morning snack of pecans and brazil nuts to keep me going. But at least I was allowed a water bottle of cold tea and added stevia that was welcome when the sun came out. The experienced guys were out at noon, and I was done at 1500h or so. Upon finishing, the "need", despite my protestations, to get some chocolate and a jar of red lingonberry jam came on when I had no such intrinsic need because all those carbohydrates are not part of my newly adopted Grain Brain diet. But what did I say about the perps liking me to start habits (read, planted scripting) and then have me violate it against my will? And of course the whole town was crawling with extra vehicular traffic, as I went to the deli and bought red and brown grocery items. The Penticton Ambulatory Gangstalkers Rude Show was also out, with a woman in the store stepping right in front of me, all the while pretending not to see me while I was standing in one place.

Then when back at my residence and having had tea and above mentioned chocolate, I got nailed for a seated nap attack with the dirty dishes still out. They hit me for 1.5 hours, then got me up to then clean the dishes and then start dinner. After dinner, a repeat; keep me stunned and immobile in the same seat while even more dirty dishes languished on the kitchen counter for at least an hour. Then they ground me down with some acid reflux pain and had me lie down for a half hour. In other words, not much got done since 1500h, and here it is 2000h as I write this.

My regular dull hike got spiced up today; I met two 50-ish women and helped them out to find the right trail, and then ended up hanging with them for lunch at the top of McIntyre Bluff, and the way back down, and then wine tasting at the adjoining farm, and then driving to another vineyard. One of us was chatting all the time, and none of the weirdness of conversations getting suddenly dropped. One was blonde and the other was brunette with blonde streaks in her hair. Imagine that, friendly and seemingly organic conversation for over three hours. Unheard of since this all began in 04-2002.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Milka Bar Emulation

I  had tea and two 100g Milka bars before heading off to yoga.

The instructor pixie was in good form, and I haven't had a class with her for 4 weeks due to holidays and instructor substitution. Only three class members, which is most strange as there has been 10 to 15 regularly. One Fat Lady in leopard skin outfit for crissake, and the woman with the near square ass. the Fat Lady has been three times before, and I assume is a new regular member of the yoga gangstalking scene. She has an unerring knack of putting her coat next to mine on the rack, it being 3' long and with no other coats. She has pulled this each time, aided by all the others in the class and the next class following in not using the coat rack for some strange reason.

Anyhow, on the way back from yoga class there is this kid running down the road in the the opposite lane, some 4' from the yellow center-line. Strange to be sure, as I routinely get jaywalkers, but no, this kid was running straight down the street toward me. As I get closer I see he is a negro with a lavender colored sweater on and black pants. And have we not done this before, dressing up a negro in the same clothing top color as a Milka chocolate bar with prior consumption (just before yoga) of the same?

Why yes, we have, perhaps a year ago now, four blocks away on this same street a pedestrian negro woman in a lavender sweater or coat and a black skirt, "happened" to be at the corner when I arrived in my vehicle on my way to work one morning. I waited for her to cross in front of me, and when done, I pulled away, crossing paths in the all too-common gangstalking action. Only 1.5 hours earlier I had consumed a Milka chocolate bar with the identical lavender color packaging with breakfast, my then common food for that time, eaten while drinking my coffee. As mentioned in the past, negroes are rare as hen's teeth here, and I find it to be an astonishing coincidence they are dressed in identical colors to that of a Milka chocolate bar packaging having consumed same 1 to 2 hours earlier.

At work, a trip to the local dump, meaning landfill/recycling center with the boss. He isn't good for much manual labor, so I do the heavy lifting for him. We were also hauling a Uhaul trailer that he had used to bring up more belongiings from Vancouver. And so I got to drive to each part of it; refuse (everything else), metals, papers, wood, cardboard, e-waste, etc. That we spent 30 min. for it to open up at 1000h wasn't a fluke either, as the perps like to keep me in place, as much as they like to parade garbage trucks past me or drive over my parking location at this residence. And today, I got to visit the dump itself, sans intermediary garbage trucks. Two weeks ago they had three garbage trucks in file ahead of me in the organized vehicular gangstalk along with other vehicles. So perhaps they are "getting their garbage on", so to speak.

It was a Tuesday that should of been a Monday. The forklift, new to the vineyard, is to be the means to put unneeded items in a shipping container some 200`away. And so I did my very first fork-lifting, picking up a piece of filtration equipment that isn't working and won't be used for wine-making in the coming months. All went well, though I am much slower than an experienced driver and the perps scrambled me at least twice on each lever, the lift and the mast angle (tipping back to make the load more secure). And yes, there is much more to it than meets the eye, but I suppose if the perps have had me covetous of fork-lifting and driving one for the the past six years, this was a big day for them. And so it was, I even unloaded it into the shipping container and backed it up to then move the wheeled item into the container. When I went to restart the forklift, why it wouldn't restart, and its barely-there battery gave up. The good news was that it wasn't blocking the driveway or anything else important, though the bad news was that it was unavailable for other activities were planned.

So I had to do a lot of hand hauling, moving 1000L wine tanks on a pallet jack not meant for rough ground, and with a small adverse incline.

And while later, I broke a bottle of wine, which made a mess, which invited the fruit flies to buzz around me even if it was all cleaned up.

Then the power washer wouldn't start, and have I mentioned how often power washers go wrong in my proximity? (Many of the shift keys are doing something odd, so there won`t be much correct grammar). Probably not this year, but with two down, and a third one that was repaired this spring, I was due to take on a fourth one. It worked, and then I shut it down, and then attempted to restart it and it would start, either electrically or manually (engine pump runs on gasoline, but the heater for the power washer runs on diesel.

Tonight, I am totally tired for some reason, as I usually recover quickly from manual labor.

A this-and-that day after a morning consult with the boss about how he wants to make the Pinot Blanc wine for 2014. He wants to add a non-fermentable sugar after it has fermented to dryness. (No residual sugar). I have been telling him to reserve some 15% of the juice and put it in a freezer until March or so and then add it back in to sweeten the wine, then use a sterile filter to stop any further yeast action. This way, all the luscious fruit flavors come into play, as well as the accompanying aromatics. He said no, for no good reason, even if he has a friendly farm neighbor who keeps a cooler running over winter for his apple storage. I must say my boss is very inventive and fluent with excuses, though he sometimes gets the facts blurred and merges two years' worth of relevant events and makes is seem a cogent rationale. I term his ability as a "good denial skill set". Like today, and to top it off he flagrantly brags that our Pinot Blanc is better than xzy's. I did not remind him that they won a Lieutenant Governor General's award for their Pinot Blanc last year and although we didn't compete then, our two recent competitions drew no awards. The funny thing is that he thinks he is convincing, when he isn't, especially when he does artful fact merging from two separate vintages of the same wine. In other words, I hit the wall in terms of making rational progress.

My boss also told me that we might have 8 tons of low sugar grapes from one section as it gets less sun than the rest of the vineyard. It is at 14 Brix when 18 Brix is the usual acceptable minimum. I also reminded him that this is common in Germany, and if they don't make sekt (like champagne), they take a "sweet reserve" and add it back in before bottling to counter the higher acid, just like I mentioned in the above paragraph. And still he wouldn't budge for no good reason, and the one that he gave was a total BS stunt. And why is it I get so very many bosses, (some 20 in number over the years) who sit there like stick-in-the-muds for no good reason and obstruct reasonable (to me) forward progress? And ditto for the ex, some 20 years worth of being a "power ditz" especially when it was clear that a new direction was in order. I just don't get it as to why I am surrounded with sandbags, a term from the dictionary to mean obstructing, usually by stealth.

The boss pulled a total rude-ass help himself stunt this morning, choreographed to the micro-second. He was in the house and I pulled up in the ATV outside the house to get some of his supplies he needed. While getting the supplies, he emerges from the house, getting in my way, and puts his coat on while his back was facing me, and then turns around and gets into the ATV driver's seat while it was still running. Obviously I left it there idling in the driveway for a brief stop, which it was, and he then takes over and tells me to hop in. Fucking rude, and just one more of the same I get in public.

There was to be big rain today, but only fairy spatters, one when the son-in-law came with the 500L wine tank he borrowed, covered in a green (polyethelene) tarp. And tarps have been the rage today, and yesterday. So many things to cover up and then others that are shredded after one year outside and needed to be disposed of at the dump (Monday, per above mentioned trip there). I had to pack a number of them away this morning in plastic boxes inside the shipping container, identical color and make of tarp.

The winery supply technical expert was strangely terse over the phone today and yesterday. I asked about pectic enzymes of which there are some 15 products they sell, and she says to use the one we used last year. Well we could, but there are some identified for white wine, what we will be making mostly, and might these be more appropriate? And it was two years ago when we last purchased pectic enzyme, so are there any other products that might be better? I had three of these "tersities" (from the word terse; adjective,1.effectively concise; brief and pithy, as language. or 2.abruptly concise; curt; brusque). Anyhow, she did spoof me once last year over something unrelated to the above phone discussions, so call her done; I do the research on wine making products and I call in my order. End of the enological educational component coming from her direction.

And what is it that serves the perps for the above stage shows that are so consistent; friendly and helpful at first (meeting in person no less in 2012), and then over three vintages, the arrangement becomes more perfunctory (defn.adjective 1. performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial: 2. lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic).

And of course along the way, someone might mention her name, and the trajectory is such that someone who I once thought of a valued information source becomes more of an order taker.

I got hit with an hour nap attack this evening; I had read some of the book, "The Fabric of Reality" by David Deutch, and was reading a few sections I found interesting, (not starting at the beginning), and this wave of de-energization came over me as I digested some of the snippets of interesting quantum energy, multi-universes etc. And have I not complained about nap attacks coming when I start into a book, particularly if it is germane to the perp's objectives, or in the field of viticulture where I now hang my hat? Why, it was the last posting (last week).

Payday and at the ATM today it was unlike the last two identical visits where there was no gangstalkers for the only two times they haven't covered me at an ATM in over 12 years. Why, a jocular male cluster arrived behind me at the ATM, when depositing a paycheck and getting some cash out. This is what I call a "cheersing" stunt (after the show Cheers) where they just "happen" to come across long lost pals, and cut into jokes and the like. If that wasn't ridiculous enough, one of them, the native Indian, tailed me out of the bank and to my vehicle where he "happened" to meet another long lost pal, replete with a handshake. A repeat of the exercise (in part) inside, now outside and while I was seated at my vehicle, getting ready to back it up into the lane.

The seamstress didn't get my ripped sheet mended even if she promised it would be done in a week. Am I supposed to believe this pathetic excuse, "I saw your car driving by and I had just started it"? Yes, it was out, but nothing got done and how do you know which car I drive, and how did you know I was going to stop (further along)?

Some more digging in picking (apples) bins at work. All this exotic hardware and supplies, e.g. two dimensional materials (TDM), and I am supposed to know what to do with it? The spouse came out to help me, so at least some things were identified, but these little furnaces, metering devices, blending devices etc. were from a past when he was working on nano-materials in Texas.

A 2-4D herbicide stink from 20' of lawn that I cross to my vehicle or back. And lo, dandelions are growing strange with helical stems. And it is true that 2-4D does not harm grasses (mono-cotyledons, monocots for short) in the botanical parlance), but will accelerate growth enough to cause di-cotyledons (most all other plants) to accelerate growth. (What do you think is in those magic substances to help your plants grow for your vegetable garden?) Anyhow, the perps have a serious minded herbicidal effects objective in their program, and I have made note of it in some blog postings. Though to be fair it doesn't happen every day that I know of.

A strange repeat of plasmic striations, today, this time while in the foul plume of a older VW diesel as I exited the specialty foods store. Said asshole who drove it "happened" to be waiting for this big opportunity, as he exited the store when I arrived. He didn't return and tail me inside, but instead sat in his vehicle for the 10 minutes while I was inside, and timed crossing my path with the plume of particulate emissions and odors that is the hallmark of older diesel vehicle engines. And while this "happened" these 45 degree purple plasmic striations erupted around me, and tailed me into my vehicle. There were much brighter than the "usual" venetian blind like patterns that I get, as each striation was regularly discontinuous; 4" of plasmic light about 3mm wide with a 4" break in this pencil line of light, and then a lighted section, alternating. And there were at least 8-10 pefectly parallel striations high. They covered me with this identical set of beams the day before while entering my residence.

One more day to the fall Equinox, always a little more perp activity then. Certain moon phases will also drive the perps to greater excess as well. Anything that perturbs the gravitational, electrical, magnetic or light conditions will have them going extra silly, along with their augmentations like training headlight beams on me when outside, and so many businesses keeping their outside lighting on in the daytime of late. Will any prominent scientist publicly and flatly declare that we live in an energetic ether, and will our dear psychopathic closet dwelling abusers ever allow this to happen? Don't count on it, as Einstein didn't want to further discuss orgone energy with his fellow expatriate Wilhelm Reich after their two meetings they had in the land of the free and brave, USA. A man of Einstein's curiousity with genius level mathematical chops could of hit another home run in his latter years, but he ducked it. Ho hum.

All Wilhelm Reich wanted was others to verify his results, (where is the truth?) and so few physicists have taken up the cause. I could go on about this topic of theoretic physics and the litany of cancer (Feynman, DePalma), murder (Mallove), accidents (Willick) that lurks in the shadows, though not just in that business, but I will let my readership follow their own instincts and hopefully my links (here) will be sufficient to prompt individual inquiry. Another "parking lot" of the theoretical physicists is the "get no respect" theme, e.g. Russian scientists such as Koyrezev, Grebennikov, though Pons and Fleischman in the West got the rabid discreditation treatment when they should of got a Nobel Prize. Ho  hum.

Caveat; all of the above links were cherry picked to some extent, and it is incumbent upon readers to do their own corroborative investigation. Another caveat; Wikipedia isn't the last word either, the site that removed "gangstalking" as an entry. I suppose they wanted to be the universal encyclopedia and felt this would besmirch their name. Such is the sell-out of success, no stranger to any of the above researchers mentioned.

Some pics from a recent download from my camera; breaking up the head band plastic takes particular dedication as it isn't exposed to much force, but "somehow" (yet again, now 10x over three different pairs) the headband is breaking up. This pair also got sabotaged two years earlier and had to be sent away to get one driver replaced. Little fissure cracks on the upper headband, and one big break in the lower headband, but still wearable. No known force or malicious methods were applied, as I take care of my belongings because I am kept in the barely-making-it economic tier.

And this is a house they are building down the street, eight houses away; note that it is an old roof on a new structure, as well as being too short. There are no connections to the vents on the roof either. Unbeliveable but true, unless there is some rational explanation for this.

Enough for this week, onto posting.


Sunday, September 14, 2014


A rare instance of lots of energy when I got back from the vineyard job. though it was no normal route home. First a stop at Value Village to drop off my employers unneeded clothes, and I was met by a male ponytail act at the door. Then onto the West Bench of Penticton to take a red wine sample for analysis. And of course, extra red colored vehicles around me for the ride. I spoke with the lab owner, son-in-law of the vineyard/cellar owner, and got some left over sample wine to drink up (in a brown cardboard box), and he also supplied me with a brown moving box that needed to be taken back to the vineyard. That is, the latter brown box stayed in my car outside all night. They cannot get enough brown coloring things around me, but only in measured doses. And yes, the brown gangstalking vehicle count has gone up to perhaps as many as five for a 20 minute trip.

With this unusually abundant energy I got to it and made dinner. Just about always they have me in a enervated [enervate:(verb) to deprive of force or strength; destroy the vigor of; weaken] slump after work, but not today. I was all done by 1730h or so, and then looked into some recipe books for tomato soups. Yesterday I thawed the salsa I made earlier so I could pass it through a sieve to re-freeze the now thicker salsa and keep the juice. Then the tiredness came on and I put the books down and could not do anything while seated. I could not get up, I could not sleep, and I could not read any more. I have experienced a five hour nap attack after starting to read a viticulture book some two years ago, and it would seem the perps are pulling much the same today. About two hours later, I was "recovered" enough to go visit the LD store where the staff-like stalkers were on full display, loitering around doing the pretend shopping, with three of them clustered around me at the checkout. Then a 8 y.o. boy came to hand around too, all in a warm up to make a financial transaction of purchasing something.

A cold windy day at the vineyard even if sunny; I did not get into my shorts at all. The standing caveat applies; my shorts are mid-thigh spandex and not the near universal male baggy-to-the-knee-or-longer look. Though I should elaborate on my shorts some, as the perps roll up the thigh length material and make my shorts look like trunks, in a single horizontal line at my crotch. I don't know why they do this, and I don't know why all my attempts to get longer and plain black colored shorts with an elasticized hem that stays put are defeated. Either they aren't to be found in my version of the internet world, or longer shorts that I have get botched by the alterations person.

I got hit with a 2 hour nap in evening which effectively nullified my evening time.

I am still in "left alone" mode at the vineyard, the owners away for the second week. After a summer of tag-team away weeks, where one of the couple is away, returns after a week, and the other couple member takes off for a week. It has been like this all summer, the last three months. This present scenario has them both away (together), now into the second week. I look after the cat, and they took the dog.

Though this was a busier day, as the cleaning lady came, but as the owners weren't there, there wasn't a whole lot to clean. I found a few more chores to do, and eventually invited her out to the vineyard to help doing de-leafing on selected sections and rows.

It didn't get warm until noon, but finally, I got to wear shorts. Two of the owner's friends came to attend to the vegetable garden in the afternoon, "happening" to be next to where I was working to get rid of the powdery mildew from the bank facing side of a short row beside the concrete driveway. I got to explain, again, what this particular affliction is and what it looks like. As mentioned in a recent past posting, the perps seem to have selected this particular vineyard disease for me to learn about and experience. The viticulture instructor of two years ago spent much time on this topic, to the exclusion of two other bunch rot afflictions that occur in this viticultural region.  I have no idea why the perps are obsessed over powdery mildew, but it seems that the vineyard owner knows, as he doesn't seem to fussed about it. Most strange IMHO.

The noisescape was also busy today; the HD motorcycle noise following single engine aircraft noise, and a serial background parade of noisy mufflers, either ill-maintained or the "performance" kind, the gurgling hot-rod sound.

And the saga of bedsheets takes a strategic turn for the perps; they have been ripping my white cotton sleeping bag liner sheet slowly but surely over the past month. And so to get a new one, as this particular sheet configuration is best for sleeping on a cot as I stay enclosed in the sheet and don't have it pulled off me in the night. And as it "happened" the replacement sheets were $50 and there was a different one on Amazon for $20 in a poly-cotton blend, mid-grey color. It arrived yesterday, a cross-Canada shipment taking a phenomenal (ahem) two days. Today, I washed the new bed sheet liner at the vineyard, as I have permission to use the washing machine and dryer there. And of course, the detergents are the smelly Tide and the like, and after the first laundering somehow "failed", the second one didn't, and I got the sheet dried in time to leave. And so tonight, I make my debut in a bed sheet other than white or off-white.

Saturday, and the dude force is out on display, walking their children around in strollers, sometimes with a spouse. When one sees three of such in one block all heading the same direction, it does begin to look strange. That said, they don't seem to be headed to a single venue or event.

And laundry done today, the Hwy 97 laundry owner (male) seems to be chatty, and seems to like me to see his very hairy legs and arms, all in concert with the greater perp objective of me being exposed to male features. As mentioned in past postings, this seems to be related to the years they wiped my recall when aged 2 to 5, 1956-59. I have no idea where I lived or what happened to me, and I suspect there was plenty of abuse at the hands of males, the prime abusing gender, then and now.

 A hair cut only at the student school; I must reduce my expenses all over, and so waxing isn't going to be so regular. It seems that streaks of unnatural hair color are in; blue with black, fuchsia with brown etc. That didn't also stop them putting a true redhead on display, nor the stylist with two round studs through her face, below her lip. One woman washed my hair, she seeming to be freaked out in interacting with me, though doing a decent job. Then onto a different person, the stylist to cut my hair. Normally one person does it all.

And a twice/year event, washing and waxing my vehicle, which takes about four hours as I don't have any power buffing tools. No matter, my vehicle was parked on the grass outside my place, and with the pleasant weather, it wasn't a chore. And as usual, the parade of noise; hot-rod mufflers, ill-maintained mufflers (hoarse sound), HD motorcycle noise (4x), single engine aircraft, and still the suburban favorite, the distant lawnmower.

I am getting into making soups this evening, and needed supplies (freezing containers), and went to the SOF supermarket.  I thought that at less than an hour before closing at 2200h I would get less gangstalker coverage. Not a chance, the staff were in on it, now in black T shirts with a white and orange logo on it, and even went the extra distance of getting in my way, not to mention one doing the strut with a yellow plastic milk box held behind her back for crissakes. Who but a perp abettor would want to be seen in such a stupid pose?

More good weather, and off to hike to McIntyre Bluff, and finding a private spot, save for aircraft pass-bys, to get some tanning in.

I should get this posted so it isn't hanging on me for the next week.

Wednesday, September 03, 2014

Naramata Food Trip

Wednesday; the forecast called for a 30% chance of rain, but it became 100% after the frst hour of vineyard work. By then a low rain cloud came down the valley, and stayed in place for at least two hours, messing up all my plans to get outside vineyard work done.  The afternoon was on and off; enough to draw one outside to do certain things, then the rain came on. It got sunny at 1500h when driving back from Naramata (see below).

There was enough rain that I stopped work an hour early and made a food trip to a raw foods wholesaler in Naramata. I ordered it last night and it was ready for pick up before they close at 1500h. A number of last minute things erupted to delay my departure by 20 minutes, which left me in constant doubt if I would maker it there by closing. A number of vehicles chose to slow down ahead of me, though the monster silver grey Lincoln had to be in front of me nearly the entire Penticton to Naramata leg, outbound; before that it was a grey and then a charcoal colored vehicle in front of me. On the return trip it was a silver grey train of three vehicles, the middle one with a skim coat of brown dust on it, one of those "browning around" moments they cannot get enough of. Not only that, browning around with soil dispersed on a vehicle of varying thickness; thicker at the bottom, to thin at the top. And given last night's rain, and rain much of today, someone must of been working real hard to ensure that this skim coated vehicle kept its carefully applied soil skim coat in place, as it was timed for the only part of the day that wasn't raining. Clever.

The assholes didn't make any bones about tailing me either. Just when setting off, a substantial pull-out area had two large SUV's about 6' apart,  pointed at different directions, though mostly the same general direction. As soon as I came round the bend, why, the silver grey lead one made an effort to get ahead of me, and the one that was more transverse came in behind me. I cannot imagine in conventional social terms, how two SUV drivers having a confab in a pull-out and then jointly arranging to erupt as soon as they saw me, one to lead and the other to follow. The lead SUV stalker had to go all of a mile or so and then pull off on a side road that runs parallel to the main road, but increases in elevation. Ever notice how the perps like to place gangstalkers up and down stairs in one's proximity?

This pull-out was the site of the near head-on collision of two weeks ago, where I could of diverted to avoid an oncoming vehicle (overtaking another beside it)  in my lane some 60' in front, but was totally mindfucked into not being that concerned and kept driving at it, no evasive action allowed. I really don't know how we missed, but the asshole must of been a fully trained perp to have that much faith in their system, as there was no apparent plan B.

In about 1988 when driving a company vehicle I had a tractor trailer coming at me halfway into my lane on a two lane highway at night time. I pulled wide onto the shoulder but I really don't know how we missed. Weeks later, when I saw the location in the daytime, there was a wider area to pull into but it was without a guard rail and had I drove into this pull out blind, I would of gone off a 40' bank into a swamp (at night). I suppose the perps could of pulled one of their teleportational games and re-materialized the tractor trailer back into its lane. The perps had me duck down at the last instant to avoid the flat deck corner at windshield height, so I don't know what happened to the tractor trailer for sure, though he was back in his lane when I looked in my rear view mirror.

One teleportational stunt the perps likely pulled off of major note, would be Flight 77 of 09-11, that did a 270 degree spiral turn and apparently crashed into an unreinforced section of the Pentagon, one of the most fortified and protected buildings in all of the USA, outside a military base. The Pentagon has its own antiaircraft batteries that somehow were not deployed for crissakes. They said the Flight 77 transponder was turned off; not only was that lame, but at the following press meeting that day, when the authorities were telling the gathered media that a 757 crashed into the building, the first questions the press asked were, "where are the wings, ...where is the tail?" The answer they were given was, "no comment". If that doesn't say, "we are hiding the facts from you", nothing does. What I really want to suggest is maybe that was Flight 77 was indeed careering low toward the Pentagon and at the last-most instant was dematerialized elsewhere and a Cruise missle was teleported in its place. Yes, there was some aircraft wreckage in the rubble that was found a week or so later, but it took three days to put the fire out. Plenty of time to yet again, teleport pieces of that very same aircraft back into the rubble. I know, this sounds way out there, but when one is dealing with teleported crumbs and hairs all day long, along with many other unconventional arrivals and missing items, all to abuse the piss out of me for over 12 years, then large scale teleportational stunts (e.g. Boeing 757 and all occupants) are unlikely to be beyond the perp's capability.

Back in about 2010 when working at a farm that had a lunch room upstairs with a picture view of the Gulf Islands toward Sidney and San Juan Island, the Washington State Ferry from Anacortes was emerging from the pass N of San Juan Island and about to cross Haro Strait as it does once per day, most days of the year, at that time of day. I had seen it before from this same vantage point, and was familiar with its steady rate of progress, like any large seagoing vessel. I was by myself, a little unusual in the co-workers gangstalking choreography, but at any rate, I had another bite from my lunch, and looked up, and the ferry was halfway across the strait, a distance of 10 miles. I looked again to make sure I wasn't imaging things, and yes, the ferry had somehow traveled this distance in less than a minute or so, and I was progressing through my lunch at the normal rate. As best as I could make out, there was a wake the entire distance, an entirely normal one. Anyhow, objects and beings, large and small, can be teleported a will by whomever is pulling the strings on all of us. (Or else, I could of been totally mind blanked, but I don't think so as our lunch hours were tightly regulated. Check out the Fortean Times and the It Happened to Me section for more such events.

Yoga this evening, and for this Wednesday which is rare, there was the very large instructor of two years ago.  I situated myself at the back of the room as my regular front location had someone's mat there, and they came later moved it to fake me out. So here was this mat-less gap in the class room, and as the large instructor paced about and did her teaching poses, she invariably did them not from her mat (expectable, normal), but from this location that I normally use. And too, to put her oversized ass on display, which for me, was a little too much to take. (As in being repulsed by it, just like before). Anyhow, she did more roaming teaching, something she had not done before, just like all the yoga instructors now.

And how do they go about arranging yoga instructors? From the Freak Files? That is, Fat Girls, balding and big gutted males, now with one cutie in the mix, the Darling Pixie on Mondays. (Not this week due to Labor Day).

Some sun finally; a near week without, including the Labor Day holiday- thanks assholes.

More center-line vehicular straddlers coming at me, doing the extra wide passing of a bicyclist or R turning vehicle and they just couldn't wait. These drivers coming at me over the center line while passing by a cyclist in a dedicated shoulder lane for their use are just absurd. They make a point of leaving at least 8' of room between the cyclist and their "passing" vehicle. One could drive another vehicle between them and miss the cyclist for crissakes. Any excuse to cross the centerline, and they nearly all do it, either vehicles in my lane ahead or behind me, or else the oncoming centerline drivers. Bizarre, and all this erupted in 05-2012 when taking the Eastside Road to do vineyard work.

I worked an extra hour today, and lo, if there weren't late day visitor arrivals. The first party was the contracted grape buyer's winemaker and his female assistant, whom I see a couple of times per year doing their vineyard walk-throughs. They stayed in their silver grey pickup and pretended not to hear me when I called out when 40' away. There seemed to be some commotion as the woman had a bleeding mole that the guy felt he had to attend to by getting a bandage for her. It seems she is at least an inch bigger in the middle than last time, plump enough then. So what is this act; a shorted male with a plump Fat Girl. She didn't even say hello this time, when she had done so in the past. No big deal, they walked about and circled around so to leave without me hearing them go when I was only 40' from their truck watering plants, behind taller trees so that I could not witness their departure. Most strange; it seems they came for this stunt alone as they were gone in under 10 minutes.

Then the Aussie came after that, and I got to find out from him that the vineyard owner has ordered a hopper for the grapes loading to be made of galvanized steel. Like WTF; has anyone seen any winery equipment made of anything but stainless steel, wood or food grade plastic? Not in over half a century. And two years ago he was talking about getting copper equipment when I told him that there should be no reactive metals in winemaking , and all were except for stainless steel. He understood that, and was telling others. Now two years later he has "forgotten" and of course didn't ask me. Here we go again; blatant inanity heading for a major fuckup unless I get to line the galvanized hopper with a polyethylene sheet.

Saturday, and laundry; a fat man in a white mini-van was seemed to be giving me the stare for no reason in the parking lot, and so I stared right back at him. I chatted with the male owner of the laundromat about his hockey gear ozone cleaner the kills bacteria too. As it "happened" the fat man comes in and starts chatting to me, and he seems OK, nothing to do with his staring act or my response. Once I get back out in the parking lot, why, he had re-parked his vehicle next to mine for no earthly sane reason.

I go to the Penticton farmer's market, this about 0900h and NOT last weekend, (Labor Day), and there was this ongoing ambulatory cluster fuck around me. Dawdlers who stop in front, fast walkers who also go ahead and then stop in my way, and at least six such incidents of blatant obstruction.

The clue to get out of there was when I was buying at one, and only one stall. A woman moves in close behind me on her cell phone, the #1 stalking aid, and while paying, these two young kids about 6-9 y.o. close in on me and are staring up at me. I needed to give them the "excuse me" reminder they were getting in way too close. All this was likely about me paying cash and giving one green $20 to get coins and a blue $5 back. That is, the color transition change due to my wallet contents, is of intense perp interest. So sending in these twerps was just what the perps like to do.

I took the sidewalk out of there, and lo, if a skinheaded adult male isn't  standing in middle of sidewalk and didn't move when I came close, forcing me onto the grass to go around the prick. LIke WTF; what would he be staring at anyhow?

The more young kids, males similar in age to above mentioned ones, didn't do the same thing at the laundromat. Close in on me and stare up at me. This artfully arranged to make their entrance as I was about to exit for the last time today. Obstruction, even for a passing five seconds, is a big deal for the perps these days.

While making dinner,the perps moved my L middle finger under the knife blade while cutting onions up. And of course blood, and I was screamingly infuriated for a good five minutes. And we all know who likes to collect blood samples, especially if the victim is dying in a massacre arranged at a school or tourist location. Like WTF; they can, probably do, extract bodily fluids and substances from me anytime they want, and for some reason they need to cut me. Or, it just maybe a ruse to get me out of the kitchen for a few minutes so they can look at the cut up onions free of my proximity. And too, the classic perp timing, the Fuckup is arranged when about 70-80% through the task. And too, we know who finds cutting up meats and vegetables so fascinating, along with knife sharpening.

An after noon time in the sun, but no tan from it, when I can get tanned into mid-October at this latitude. But it was an excuse to run motorcycle noise ad nauseum for at least 30 minutes, 3x/minute. Then they started up the aircraft noise and aircraft overhead, culminating in the peculiar gyrocopter that likes to hound me about 10x/year, both at my residence and the vineyard where I work.

A new cognitive dehabilitation stunt revealed itself for the first time today. While reading down alphabetical lists of names online (singers or band names), the first capitalized letter gets "modified" to the point of not being able to read it. If I move my head a little, why, I can read just fine (as much as I am allowed, as they can mess with my word recognition, something they could do for the last five years or so).

I just got sacked into paying for shipping on Amazon when I needn't have. An item was $17 and to get free shipping I needed an order for $25 or more. So I add and additional item, and then got screwed out of noticing where it is stocked, and lo, if it wasn't a Amazon reseller partner. Which means that I pay for shipping for eadh item as it is shipped from elsewhere. The entire intent was to have both items ship from Amazon themselves and I don't pay shipping. Since normally I am totally on top of the shipping charge games, as one must do in Canada, It would seem yet again, I got screwed by remote means. And no less, the reason for getting the first item, a sleeping bag liner which I sleep in every night, is that the sleeping bag liner I use got mysteriously ripped, and then ripped some more so it is nearly in half. Yet again, one sabotage exercise leads to another.

A hike today, the usual location, and they even left me alone to get an hour's tanning in. Some seven other parties on the trail, and three of them were on me at the end. One party about 100m from the trailhead, another arrived when I was at the gate, and and a third party walking down the road three abreast when I was some 60' past the trailhead. Can we say "covered" for a trailhead exit?

As the trailhead is at an organic farm I sometimes stop by to get some produce. And lo, if a red shirted Mexican didn't show up to then loiter in the small shop to get his Coca Cola, brown sugar water in a red colored aluminum can), and this wretched red head freak/store assistant came to my aid to "help" me find a bigger ear of corn, as I was about to purchase two. This goof has been hanging around with a dumbshit Tilley hat most times, and seems to be the appointed clown to hound me there. Most times I get the E Indian woman as the store assistant who seems to be reasonably pleasant and unobtrusive.

Ditto the "swap in the male" in place of the female at two locations I shop often at. That is, I am now getting male cashiers at the till when they had assigned me females for these past two years, since I moved into this town. The male for female swapping at the checkout or cash desk hasn't gone unnoticed these past 12 years, but this represents a extra step up when they put on the male cashier at the outset without any swapping games. If I don't like male cashiers on account of male perpetrated abuses in my recall blanked years, aged 2 to 5 (1956-1959), then I don't see why I should be put through this insane stalking and hounding abuse, along with the extra conventional gravitic fuckery to constantly enrage me all the time. It would seem I had already suffered enough when the assholes went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.