Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Futility in the Snow Flurry

Another almost car accident today; this time aided by snowy and slippery conditions. I was driving along Eastside Rd, still in the city (of Penticton), coming into a LH curve downhill, and this idiotic woman from a driveway on my R side sits and waits, to the point I thought she was going to wait for me to pass by. But no, with a skiff of fresh snow on the ground and with an 15% adverse grade, and a loose gravel driveway, she makes her move to turn and cross my path. It was a dumb enough move if it were bare and dry road conditions, but it wasn't. Putting on the brakes hard would of been problematic, but I applied them enough to slow down on the down slope and my wheels fortunately caught sand on the road which helped considerably. She was only 6" away from my bumper before she got her excessively spinning wheels engaged enough to get her car out of the way. The postwoman at the adjacent mailboxes couldn't believe it either. And the offending vehicle was the same middle grey as mine was surely not a coincidence.

Another one of those, "don't know how we missed" almost-collisions. Earlier this year, a deer doing a near-kamikaze run on the highway in broad daylight did the same, and going back three years, there was almost head-on collision on the same Eastside Rd. Why is it that the perps need to arrange these near vehicle collisions for me? Could it be yet more traumatization games, putting them into my brain so to invoke a response they so want to remotely detect and later monitor? I think we have done the traumatizations for a long time; the three memory wiped years when aged 2 to 5 in particular, given the freak show that is constantly arrayed around me, read about the Unfavored.

The above mission was to head to my former winery employer 30 highway minutes away, who has yet to pay me for the last week of employment. A futility mission as it turned out, as no one responsible was there, having left for France for Christmas. One fellow was there, but he didn't know. I left unequivocal instructions on my last time sheet to mail my last paycheck, and three weeks later after its issue, nothing. As it "happens", said fellow will be spending Christmas in the same city I will be.

Or is that too part of this ongoing fucking insane campaign of late of delaying my mail, orders, parcels and everything else? The vitamins I ordered two weeks ago, and normally arrive within two days, were delayed by 10 days in shipping alone, not having been sent. So it is very likely that these two items, plus another mail item will all arrive in my absence, despite my best intentions and actions to prevent this very problem. The latter mentioned item usually takes three days to come, and now it will be at least twice that. Prior to that, my Black Friday online sales purchase from Vancouver, an overnight truck delivery, didn't get sent for a week because "somehow" I ordered an item they didn't have in stock when their online system indicated that it was, confirmed by the vendor. Hence my ski jacket for outdoor vine pruning and accompanying snow shovel arrived the day before the snow came down, and both saw use that very next day. Good timing that, but why didn't they bring on the snow earlier instead of putting me through yet another order obstruction? I understand they like me to wear things straight out of a (brown) cardboard box, but this is getting ridiculous, and surely they could put their own jerkass operatives through that rather than obstruct yet another delivery of mine.

And for the aforementioned trip along Eastside Rd, they put a shit tanker, aka, a septic services truck, ahead of me for the 20 minute journey. And lo, near when it was about to turn off, on comes a brown colored pickup truck to take its place. Keeping up the "brown stalking" it would seem.

I am now in Victoria, having flown from Kelowna Dec. 20 and staying at the First Feral Family household. And in keeping with perp stalking form, they had me covered with negro gangstalking for my flight. One at the waiting area some 12' away, then one of the two flight attendants, and one late arriving male negro male passenger, who curiously "needed" to walk the length of the aircraft aisle back where I was in Row 17 (a Q400, aka Dash 8). Then he walked back to about Row 6 or so and found his seat there. That he came late so he had unimpeded ability to walk down while everyone was seated was adroit timing, none of the shuffling along while passengers place their baggage in the overhead racks. Then to add to that, he somehow "missed" his assigned seat and only figured it out when he got to the back of the aircraft, probably 22 rows at the most. Later he doffed his hat for the skinhead look, something that the perps need to inundate me with everywhere I go. So two negroes, one male, and the other female on this flight. And of course as a flight attendant she got some face time  with me, putting on the faux friendly look, though that could of been part of her regular job and not because of me and my odious TI status that everyone seems to know about in advance somehow.

And on this topic of negro gangstalking while flying, may I remind readers of a stunt two or three years ago when my mother and ex had me spend breakfast with them before the flight, and these assholes nearly caused me to nearly miss my flight as the airport security line suddenly built up over the 20 minutes spent at the invited, but unplanned (by me) breakfast. I had to scoot to the front of the line ahead of other passengers waiting, and once through, I was the last to get on the aircraft. And lo, opposite my seat on the other side of the aisle was a negro woman. It was my (forced) turn to be late for the aircraft, the last passenger on board this time, and with a similar negro gangstalking arrangement as above. And for the record, negroes in this part of the world are less than 0.5% of the population, but it seems the perps have a consistent need to have one or more accompanying me on a commercial passenger flight. And it may be the last flight I take for a long time as my mother is giving up her vehicle and it will be unlikely that I will be flying from Kelowna to Victoria from now on.

And my departure planning got screwed around when the shuttle bus arrived 40 minutes earlier than planned with no prior notice. So "of course" I got screwed around and "forgot" some of my medications and supplements which had to be tracked down, and getting the third degree from the pharmacist, as he said he could only give me a 10 day emergency supply. I said if that is the regulation, I would go to a walk-in clinic in 10 days and get another 10 day supply which would of  been enough to cover me for this trip. He could see that I had the Rx on the province wide system, and it wasn't that I tried to persuade him any, but he then capitulated and gave me a 21 day supply, which is what I asked for. What was that about; more face time with a brown skinned (E. Indian) person perhaps?

My perp abetting mother was with me at LD where the above mentioned Rx games played out, and so afterwards she needed to fuss over getting chocolates, and keep me circulating there while the gangstalkers surged around in greater numbers than I have seen for some time. Then my mother didn't purchase any chocolates. This very same aisle was where she pulled  this same shit two years ago, and one of the perp assholes grabbed me in some kind of faux bullshit stunt. Putting on the brown as I call it.

A temperature change for my flight day too (Dec. 20). After three weeks of -8C daytime temperatures, it was +2C for the shuttle bus trip to Kelowna airport, and once in Victoria, a continuing mild spell.  I could see that Vancouver was inundated with snow as we flew over, but Victoria's lesser snow fall had dissipated in the night and morning. Just what is it all about, playing games with ground moisture sources, water or snow and then melting the snow in both departure and arrival cities on the day of travel? I have no idea, and don't give a shit, and I constantly ponder just what is so important about wetted surfaces, and sources of water, that is so important to the perps. Past blogging has highlighted perp interest in water sources, from weather, hoses, pipes and pipe material (and leaks therefrom), treatments such as filtering, as well as water that I imbibe and the drinking container material and color. "Naturally" I get exposed to others and their water bottles in all their variety.

Missed blogging here from the First Feral Family house these past few days, and I don't expect to catch up for a few more. I best get this posted and start a new posting when I can.

Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Eye Exam

A visit to the optometrist this morning; more lens is power needed, my astigmatism has increased. Retina health looks good. New lenses, and of course, more expenses on that one. Having me touch those instruments, putting one's chin in the rest and looking at objects with one eye, then the other, is straight out of the perp vision testing script. And plenty of male stalkers for some reason, and they even put on a fugly dread-locked negro for crissakes. It is always a sign that the stalking scene is getting intense, putting on the rare negro (and no corrective lenses on him).

This has been one expensive year with car repairs coming at me, then the supplement circus (=expense) was amped up big time when they hit me with prostate cancer in June. And to finish the year off (still two weeks to go though), this financial hit on corrective lenses, another perp stunt IMHO. And I am sure they loved the eye tests too, especially the one that tests peripheral vision, the one where the flashing bars show up on various points of the screen (for each eye) with varied timing. I am sure the ersatz stalker and stunts to test my peripheral vision exceed 500/year, now 14.5 years running.

I asked the optometrist about dopamine in the retina, being that I am on a dopamine research kick of late (for genuine related health reasons), and have a deficiency in the form of ADD. She didn't know anything about it, and then looked it up on her cell phone for crissakes. I think I have had enough cell phone stalking, but the perps don't think so. Getting information on a lighted color display in my proximity is interesting enough for them, and then add in the EMF signals supporting said information retrieval and it is perp paradise as far as victim harassment goes. In fairness, though, the average schmo looking up internet retrieval on the internet on their phone would not sense any greater plan or harassment as such.

Then afterward I got "stupidized", sending off my dopamine pee samples from yesterday without tracking, all to save $10 on postage. I paid $220 for the test, and if it doesn't make it to the lab in 30 days (pre-Christmas time volumes, note), then the pee samples will be rejected. And it takes a day in advance to change up the diet, and then a day for the testing. How fucking stupid was it to send the test kit off without tracking? I can thank the perps for that, considering that they manage every thought  and notion. Never mind that I cannot expect that anything can ever go right in this managed hell of sabotage at every turn, from finger coordination, personal health, job productivity and all other general function. Things go wrong at 100x normal since the onset of this imposed abuse-athon since 04-2002. And "somehow" I "forgot" that history too.

I am not allowed to turn anything off or on without it going wrong somehow; buttons don't work, my hand slips off the switch, my hand somehow turns the switch on then off etc. And passing through a doorway or a gate is also a big deal for the perp assholes; they constantly force me back to get things I "forgot", have objects fall from my hands at the door, make the lock or door difficult to open, or otherwise piss me off during this most pedantic function. It is hell on earth, and no way out. From long ago, they can alter the physical properties of pills so they stick in your mouth and won't go down, and dynamically mess with swallowing too. A knife thrust at one's wrist hits an invisible force field and stops without conventional cause. (Or else they control my arm and wrist and stop it that way (though it doesn't seem that way), exactly opposing my intention).

What is with the 100+ view increase per posting since June? Normally I get 40 to 80 per posting, now I get 160 to 210. I don't think I can thank the Russians or Poles this time, or at least not now, as the Google stats indicate most of my latest views come from the USA. Anyhow, not a big deal, as the Comments remain negligible, and the perps just love to spoof and otherwise sabotage productivity statistics.

An outing after sitting at home listening to music that I like (=dopamine increase), I set off at 1530h, about the time the sun sets now, mountains and all. What a gangstalking scene; extra trains of traffic, clusterfucking me at every turn, (even a 60' tractor trailer in residential streets), not using turn signals (them), and packing the parking lot at the tanning salon. No other customers there, and still the attendant had to check the bed to see that it was clean. Another senseless delay, as she knew I was coming 10 min. ahead of time. And then to top it off, she "forgot" to reset the lamp switch, so I had to get up and open the door and call out, skyclad of course. She never forgets, so what is the deal? When departing she makes out that she often forgets. Like WTF.  Another holy vehicular cluster fuck when departing, forcing me to be transverse to the lane at a red light, which could of been ameliorated had the driver in front pulled ahead, but as they were doing their "sit back" thing, they didn't budge. The "sit back" driving behavior erupted in 2003 when they let me drive again after the illegal incarceration, where waiting at traffic lights the vehicles sit back 1.5 car lengths behind the vehicle in front. Except me of course, I haven't bought into the group think/stalk behaviors, and constantly ponder why this is mass inanity is going on.

Then stopping at Staples to find that inkjet cartridges went up 50%, so screw that, I will try one of those recycler places again. Though in the past, their stuff didn't work. So who knows, in the Fuckover-fraught hassles of printing and ink, this might be another round where they need to test recycled ink, now 5 years later. I had my usual stalker in the parking lot, the Fuckwit getting out of his parked vehicle just to tail me in, with another to take over once I got inside. Tag team gangstalking is nothing new, as is the obvious aforementioned Fuckwit sitting a parked car who then "decides" to tail me when I exit my car. Then a dithering dipshit at the exit between the two sets of doors, the pondering-the-reciept act; been there, done that. Said Fuckwit pulled it together to then advance-stalk me out of the doors and into the parking lot. What is it with the Fuckwit dress code of wearing a red jacket and medium brown pants?

I had one such dressed stalking Fuckwit stalk me for four encounters in one store last week, and then I depart to make a rare visit to Walmart, getting skunked. Then I go to an alternative store to find the same item, and lo, if the same red-jacket-with-brown-pants Fuckwit wasn't there again. Too many coincidences, and all the more noticeable with these fugly get ups.

And lo, if the boom truck boys weren't in the alley when I came to park; they have been putting up cable on the nearby service posts all day, and lo, if they didn't happen to be now situated around my usual parking spot. And lo, if the accompanying pickup truck wasn't full of cardboard boxes, presumably containing the parts they are connecting to the lines above. And too, perhaps this is the warm up for me to change my internet service in the next few months, and to provide more close up advance exposure to the boom truck, cable and the parts in brown cardboard boxes. Strange that they were working in the near dark at 1630h. Or is it a warm up as my mother wants me to "help" her change her TV and internet service to the once-monopoly phone company when I make it to Victoria next week. The normal TV cable provider has been supplying her such terrible signal for the last two years, as the image is coming in smeared too often. The little that I know about image processing tells me that they are doing some signal compression games and not fully de-compressing it at the modem end (or on the line, given how much gear is hanging from the service pole outside her house).

Onto another perp theme, information service sabotage, monitoring and how information gets to me, and what color the cables are, what kind of metal (silver colored at this end), the whole epistemology of information in all its facets. The perps are consumed with how I get information; verbally, visually in person (even if I copy the cute yoga instructor or another (often not-so-cute obese yogi)), from books, posters, radio, TV etc., and now of course, online via the internet in all its facets, pages, video, audio only etc, Additionally the perps are consumed as to technical delivery methods; EMF signal (satellite), copper, aluminum or optical fiber is used, along with the plethora of sheathing options, color being one. Even satellite dish color seems important. Perhaps this new cable they are putting up in the alley is optical fiber, as this particular company promotes it so much, and their TV signal is wonderfully sharp and detailed. And so it goes, now 14.5 years of this insane abuse-athon, with an unmet agenda that spans the world, perhaps larger. Metastatic cancer would be a blessing; cut the expense and get the fuck out of here.

I was awakened at 0700h for some reason, and no night time awakening due to a urination need, or leg cramps. I haven't understood why these problems of the last two months have abated in the last week, as the perps have had me "forget" to take my magnesium and L-tyrosine consistently for the last two weeks. And these were the very supplements that (barely) relieved the problem. But they did get me up early (no alarm) for a reason. Someone was on the other side of the wall in this carriage house, which is curious, as the landlord hasn't anything of concern there. Once I got up, it was a "day glo", aka, high-viz vested person immediately outside my bedroom window. And lo, if they didn't pound on the wall and then apply a hammer drill once I was up. As it turned out, it was the resumption of yesterday's boom truck boys, now with two of them, and continuing with their cabling overhead, and now to individual residences, even if I don't have any wired services from them. They put up a sign in the alley near their trucks to indicate that it was fiber optic service installation, so no doubt the telephone marketing is going to start soon.

I ventured outside into the cold to get my hair cut downtown at the student hair dressing school. The stylist was decided large, but very personable and chatty. Nice that sometimes I am not given the freak treatment and the associated over-acting that goes with it.

 Another outing to do shopping; what a gangstalking cluster fuck at LD. They even had some Fuckwit somehow pull the particleboard back panel off the nearby blood pressure test device, not that I ever use those things as it makes me captive and then the gangstalkers surge around me.

Later, a final crew meeting, more to the point, we got paid at the bar. And food too, and for some reason I was eating like a pig. Anyhow, nice to see everyone in street clothes instead of 

Another folly Fuckover event was going to the doctor's office, the walk-in clinic as getting a regular GP isn't allowed it seems. A surge of patients ahead of me at 1015h (been there, done that), so 1.5 hours later I get to see the guy. All for a test requisition and some banter and off I go for lunch. Then a blood draw, and then to the ATM to deposit two checks, and back to my residence where I got serious about vacuum cleaning, another perp obsession. And think about it; the perps are obsessed about financial transactions, and they scripted a blood draw immediately afterward. (After screwing me out of depositing the check last night when I was passing by).

Saturday, laundry beckoned, and so off to the laundromat. A slack Saturday for sure; maybe I will get my 2016 papers organized for the first time as it seems to have been a problem all year.

And in fact, the page view statistics have finally caught up with the geographic source map, and indeed, it is the Russians who again have such a profound interest in this out-there blog. Welcome, and I hope you enjoy it, and if you need any translation help I will be happy to help. Just drop me a comment, publication refusal requests will be honored.

Sorting paper files tonight, and even those of 2015. And plenty of distractions to keep the papers and file folders on the floor for the afternoon and into the evening. This wouldn't be the first time the perps have dithering and protracting this exercise. And for one who absolutely loathes one piece of paper not in its place, this is truly and mind-fuck travesty/intervention of the first and worst order. Thankfully they are letting me play music all the while this remotely applied neural intervention plays out.

A stay-at-home day today, a rare instance. But getting papers sorted and then finally, after a 6 month interval, I get to put my disc player back in the server rack where it was intended to be all this time. That it had to sit beside it for so long is curious to me, as it was there before, and another server rack change up had it sit adjacent, but still connected to the amp, speakers and computer.

And I finally joined the rest of the world and got my PC to play through the audio speaker system today, instead of being a sole headphone user, as I have been all the time I have owned a PC until now. Youtube has become TV channel in essence. Nothing new for most folks, but in this trial of relentless adversity, having me years behind everyone else somehow suits the agenda for whatever reason. (And likely related to information sources and through what equipment, wires and speakers etc.)

No semi-regular TI call tonight, so maybe it is all off.  Anyhow, time to get this posted for the week, dull as it has been, but a welcome week off.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Continuing Cold Days

Monday, and continuing cold weather, about 2C, and below freezing in the morning. Overnight lows will be about -8C. Tomorrow night it will be even colder, and the ice wine picking will commence. I am short listed, per phone call, so we shall see what it is like to work overnight and then work at this vine cutting job the following day time. The perps do like to test me like this, having me work two consecutive shifts as it were, and too, changing up the lighting conditions, i.e., dark to daylight, is also a big deal for them. And too, the number of gangstalkers who precede or follow me with frozen goods at the supermarket checkouts hasn't gone unnoticed these past 14.5 years of this insane abuse-athon.

My commuter colleague, this time on driving duty somehow lost his vehicle keys after lunch. One guy goes to where we last worked, and somehow, they recalled where he was just after lunch. Meanwhile, I was sent (per mind fuck, but getting the post-lunch row numbers wrong along with any recall of landmarks), down the wrong row to look. And by dint of some miracle, har, har, in the dimming light (at 1620h), he found his keys. Presumably it was to send at least two of us in the wrong direction for 10 minutes or so. Straight out of the perp forced fuckover game book.

And at lunch time, and assembling ourselves in the parking lot to get ready for the afternoon's work, the vineyard and winery owner drive by. I cannot understand why this person and spouse, had to drive by and then come back within two minutes, never getting out of their vehicle even. The crew boss said "that is the owner", just to make sure I knew, and every one else of course. And what is it about property or business owners who are instructed to gangstalk in some some way? I cannot figure that out, apart from some kind of psychic "vibe" about larger entity ownership that is expected to be remotely detected in me. For that matter, any ownership, even objects that arrive in the mail. And it does make me wonder if the tyranny and tragedy of Soviet collectivisation from the 1930's to the 1980's wasn't part of the perps' objectives/psychopathic lunacy.

Hot yoga, and shirtless dude act again, about the first time that a dude is class actually can do yoga. Said dude "happened" to situate himself in my usual spot. Funny how that happens, and happens, in rotation. Save the tall and lithe instructor and one other, why were all the other 12 women so overweight? And why do they need to stand in front of me before and after class, bent over asses facing me? Not only surrounding me, but blocking my view, another time honored perp stunt.

And additional "feature" of yoga was a terrible tatt act; a couple in fact with gruesome tattoos down their arms. As always, they could of covered up these gross disfigurations, but no, it seems the perps just love me to see this disgusting visage as much as they can.

A day off..; the boss man said it would be too windy. Turns out, it isn't. On another front, It was indicated that ice wine picking would be tonight, but I got a text to say that it would be tomorrow, even if is cold enough (-11C). I got my deep cold clothing out, and so it will sit on the floor for an extra day. Who knows what these imponderable delays are about; even having things sit around on the floor or somewhere they don't ordinarily reside for an extra day or so. The perps just love it when I move my supplements around on the counter, say, moving them 12" away to signify that I have taken them from the bottle.

Reading about Parkinson's Disease, and the interesting lead about abnormal brain proteins, specific to Alzheimer, CJD and Parkinsons Disease, named alpha-synuclien. And one of the leading researchers got murdered in a professional hit, no witnesses. Hmm, was he on the right track and did someone need to terminate this promising research? As it "happens", the coincidence meter went off the scale, as a UK researcher also was killed in a car accident. Anyhow, more of a read here at Whale.

Stood up for ice wine picking; it was cold enough, but didn't get the call. And cold for the last three days of outside work, cutting, pulling and stacking vine canes needed for propagation purposes. More next week too....

I finally recieved, after a week's inexplicable wait more than normal shipping times, a ski jacket that proved to be very warm today. That and my Minus 100 boots, and all except my finger tips were warm.

Continuing cold, -9C all day. The difference was that 3" of snow arrived overnight, and was on the highways and in the vineyard. Thankfully the wind was absent. Again, my finger tips were freezing, meaning terribly sensitive to the cold, though this lapsed by 0930h. Pulling vines most of the day; no diversions from cutting, bundling or loading.

  Some -10C this Saturday morning, with a fresh 2" of snow outside, and on my vehicle, there for sweeping off etc. All very fluffy snow with a deep sparkly tone. More vine cutting and cane collecting, this time at a third site, relatively free from the wind. The sun came up for a few hours at 0900h, and by 1030h the clouds intervened to then cool the warming trend. An arctic front apparently, and this cycle of flurries and cold temperatures is forecast for another month for crissakes.

After weeks of delay, I am finally allowed to apply for unemployment benefits online. I go to the page and lo, the system is shut down for maintenance. Same deal yesterday; I get the notion (read, mind controlled planted notion) to purchase two sand bags to weigh down the rear end of my vehicle in these on-off snow conditions at my usual gasoline station, and lo, if they didn't have the traffic lined up 10 or so ahead, and when I finally made it there, why, a B-train gasoline delivery tanker was occupying the station. So I go to the nearby other gasoline station that I never have been to, and lo, all the pump parking was taken up, so I parked further away. I get inside and four dudes were ahead of me with the usual bantering with the cashier to hold me up. I then had to lug these heavier-than-expected sand bags (40lb each) 60' to where my car was. And as usual, a plethora of headlights was trained on me or coming and going while getting stiffed with this extended task. Then a 20 long train of traffic to obstruct me getting out of the driveway of the gasoline station, all head lighted in the dim 1630h light. All over purchasing and loading sandbags for crissaskes. Though, the perps do have an intense interest in soils, their colors and provenance. It just wasn't enough that my father was a geologist, from coal (and coal mines) to petroleum to mountain tops.

And what is it about the gangstalking assholes, this time at work, that they need to stand over where I am. In the cold, we were allowed to have the morning coffee break in the winery, and we were standing in a circle with the coffee and cookies on the floor in the center. Some had got their earlier, and I was later. I was standing in the circle for a few minutes, taking in the banter. I put down my lunch kit on the floor, go over to the coffee and pour it while squatting, and I look up, and the Quebequois Fuckwit had quietly moved some 6' over and was standing in my spot. Note that he was already comfortably in place, and had absolutely no need to move and stand in my spot. Once finished pouring my coffee and selecting a cookie, I stared hard at the fucker, wondering what passed through his head to do something so unnecessarily affrontive, but in keeping with long observed perp managed behavior, he was doing the oblivious act. WTF; why are so many fuckers going out of their way to be so strangely rude to stand where I was, especially when it is so uncalled for? And why did this particular behavior start up with such frequency since 04-2002? Cannot I be allowed to return to a place I once stood when it was vacated for all of 30 seconds, and when everyone was standing around, save this one fucker? Apparently not in this intensely choreographed hellish existence I have been cast into?

Cold, -8C, all day today. And in keeping with the previous two nights, there was another 2"
of snow in the night. All to have me clear it off my path (on the lawn) to the gate.  The snow was wind blown in the night, so it had only to be cleared from the rear window. All in keeping with the ongoing perp games of having me clean, (or not), snow and rain off my windshield and with what device, e.g. windshield wipers, plastic scraper or plastic bristled whisk. All too exciting for them; studying the energetic parameters of glass, and what it is treated with, and of course, what that confers to me (in some way) when I look through said glass. Not to mention that automotive windshield glass has a plastic film lamination inside of it to prevent it shattering in the case of an accident. Just more fun and games for them.

Cutting and pulling vines today, out last day of the project. A nice touch was that we had pizza supplied for lunch on this last day. It was all guys today, eight of us; even the project leaders wife couldn't make it due to some transient health issues (apparently).

Enough to call this done for the past week.

Sunday, December 04, 2016

Constant Website Access Obstruction

yahoo, amazon, blog spot etc.

now, after wanting to order some more expensive supplements to counter the cancer the assholes gave me, they obstuct the very site I wanted to get my order made up. And if that weren't enough, to add insult to injury, they screwed me out of getting this done last night.

yoga tonight after 8 weeks off due to the harvest/cellar hand job. but they haven't finished screwing with that, as my regular power yoga on Monday nights has been replaced by something lame. Instead, I went to the later class of hot yoga. The only hotties there were the two E. Indian girls with heavy tattoos, the rest were all fat. And two other males, one who needed to hound me while taking off my coat, and then again he needed to exit when I was entering. What is this constant bullshit about meeting others (gangstalkers) on the other side of the door who just "happen" to need to go in the opposite direction? All because they  couldn't get it together and sit down on their mat in the first place? I cannot count the number of times when weirds need to enter the clearly marked exit when I am exiting the mall for example. At the GCSS in town, with entrances and exits some 60' apart, four times in two visits I get gangstalkers going in the wrong direction as I am entering or exiting. In the latter instance there is absolutely no excuse as all the checkouts are lined up at the exit, so there is no sane excuse for anyone to enter the store there.

More of the he-she tag teaming at the service desk at the car repair shop three days ago. The met-before male is at the desk talking at length to another customer and finally finishes up. He indicates to me that he needs to depart and will be back. In his place arrives the woman staff member known to me as the one who was measuring her hips, waist and bust (yes) in public view in the back room with a yellow steel measuring tape while I was waiting for my car to be fixed last time. Fine; she hears out my vehicle complaint but doesn't seem to know much about the problem and lo, he comes back, I tell my story again and ask for a Saturday appointment. He tells me that only the apprentice works Saturdays and so I need to book a week day. I do, hoping that can get a ride with someone else that day. But what was the point of having her come out and sit there, eventually sitting beside the guy who had a better perspective on what might be the problem and what the appropriate staff allocation is? Was it that the perps wanted me to energetically interact with her gorgeous jet black hair? Or is the "vibe" of her steel measuring tape games still coming off her two months ago and needs to be registered on me as some kind of energetic interaction study? Or is it the same old trick of swapping males and females at checkouts, this time at a service desk? No idea, and all the above suggestions could be flat wrong. So it goes, this dynamically arranged mystery tour, and that includes the behavior of so many seeming normal people.

(On the topic of gorgeous jet black hair; there has been quite a few gangstalking posings, especially on public transit 2004-2011, where I get a deep black haired woman in front of me and I am to admire her hair. The long prior synchronicity is when I owned a Newfoundland dog from 1980-88, which was all deep black shiny fur, all 150lb of him. Every time the dog needed to be brushed the then-wife would always leave it to me which I thought was mighty curious at the time. There seems to be have some kind of advance plan to it, all that physical contact with jet black hair. Now I get to look at black pair posing for various durations, depending on the set up. And to put a more speculative point on it; don't forget the ML imagery and suggestion I get planted with all the time and her hair color.)

11- 29-2016
The on-off disappearing cursor trick in Blogger continues, now for the fourth consecutive day. 

And a confluence of clothes purchases is on; from STP in Wyoming, CS in Vancouver BC, and the local Marks store here in Penticton. All under the"need" to get warmer clothing on account of the colder weather. And all the more now that I am working outside in the vineyard again, this time cutting canes for grafting buds from select varietals and clones.  All I want to be is left alone, and that especially includes my finances and the spending I am forced to do, as some items sit around for years before they are used. Others never get used; so what is the point of that?

And the perps know my clothing styles; take winter clothes as an example. Bomber jackets are awful on me, likely with perp arrangement; they lift up and expose my clothes underneath, and on more severe harassment moment, they expose bare skin. Therefore, I never buy them. And so what happened in late 2011? I bought a ski jacket, bomber jacket style, and as warm and wind protective as it is on the street, it is totally useless for outside work due to aforementioned problems. So why on earth did I "forget" this very intrinsic/necessary style choice in winter clothing and purchase it then? All to have it sit around, though it did once get dirty enough somehow when in my vehicle trunk to get dry cleaned.

Another stunt was to have me purchase a mid-thigh ski jacket for outside work and "decide" that the blue color was wonderful. It was and is, but totally unsuited for the constant dirt action that outside vineyard work is. (Or more likely, that the perps exploit and plaster onto my garments). So now I wear this blue ski jacket as winter street wear, and will get a similar black colored jacket in the above mentioned clothing order confluence. Why cannot I be left alone to my own instincts and get the appropriate colored (and length) ski jacket suited for the job? I know how these assholes operate, and that is to flick dirt onto light colored clothing and somehow it does not come out after cleaning it. Relentless attacks on clothing and cleaning; why is this so important to the perps for crissakes? Not a day goes by that I don't scream at them over some extra-conventional trespass and tell them to leave me and my belongings the fuck alone.

Games over temperature continue; my residence was at least 2C colder for some reason this morning with the heater set at its normal temperature. My vehicle continues to have heater problems, and the perps screwed me around and delayed me in getting on with making and appointment to fix it. My own internal body thermostat, if you will, continues to concern me as even a mid day body temperature comes in at 36.4C. Not the best thing when one has cancer, and is even a common collateral-effect.          

Order obstruction again, invoking a phone call, and the blow off about my membership needing to be renewed (without any notice) was bogus. Apparently there was someone else with the same name who had a similar problem; how lame is that. But my ordering woes were not over; the customer service person on the phone line could log into my account and see my order, but I couldn't. I kept getting the "site unavailable", also misleading as only the page was unavailable. Then the service person insinuated that it was "my server that was the problem". I don't have a server I explained, and that was the end of that bullshit. Then I was accused of ordering something not in the catalog and that caused the problem. How could I do that in the first place, and furthermore, I had only decided at the last instance while on the phone to do so. A runaround with a dip shit over the phone to say the least, getting back to one of the perps' favorite jerkarounds, order obstruction. Finally she got it; "what is it that you want to do?" Order the merchandise in the cart that I cannot get to, and it finally got done. But telling her to investigate how to fix the problem with the web page was too complicated to ask for. So what was that all about? To force me to order my supplements from this outfit over the phone and annoy me in the process instead of a web order? It fits the harassment pattern.

Three days of cutting vine canes so far this week, and plenty of helicopter coverage for whatever reason. At least 10 on the day, differing models. Yesterday one came over the hill and directly at me, and I thought it was going to land at the nearby tasting room where there was a designated helicopter pad. But no, some 60'over the terrain comes the yellow and blue A-Star (a regular heli-stalker in these here parts) and flies exactly overhead and continues to hug the terrain, save this 100' deep gully at the S. end. It circles the adjacent airport radio tower and then crosses to the other side of Skaha Lake. Like WTF; why do they need to fly so low and then circle a radio tower for crissakes? How did they have me lined up to fly overhead of me before they came over the hill?

If that weren't enough yellow aircraft action, a fixed wing water bomber aircraft subsequently takes to the sky and does 1.5 hours of circling over the airport, going into wider circles, presumably to get closer to where I was by increments. This arranged rotary wing (helicopter) and fixed wing (wing aircraft) tag teaming hasn't gone unnoticed in past years, and this seemed like another such event. Interesting that both had yellow livery. And even more interesting is that we are going to have 12 new members of the crew tomorrow for cane collection, and one of them is a helicopter pilot. It just doesn't add up.

The full crew today, and in keeping with the selective introduction games, my ride was late, and everyone but one was there. Cute; and these staged introductions "happen" all the time now, much increased since 04-2002 when all this insane shit and abuse rained down on me and has been relentlessly imposed since. I got to chat with some of the hands from last year, which was nice. At least four of them were friendly again, not always a given in this world of selectively withdrawn behaviors. Plenty of helicopter coverage again today, but nothing like the low above terrain flight of a few days ago No helicopter pilot on the crew it seemed, though two guys didn't introduce themselves. And I don't think either of the two slim Quebequois girls were helicopter pilots, given the rag-tag van they came in.

More lame-assed order interference;
Thank you for choosing....
Unfortunately, the '...toque..' is unavailable. Due to an inventory error this item was displaying online when it should not have been. Please let us know if you would like to select a different item of similar value or if you would prefer to have the order canceled/item(s) omitted.
Omit the toque and ship. How did you know that I ordered this item (of a different brand) from elsewhere and now didn't need the item anyhow? And that due to total mind control fuckery, I "forgot" that I had just ordered a similar toque within the last week. And too, ordering a toque would of been totally unnecessary had not my extant toque didn't strangely disappear on a single leg of my shopping trip and wasn't found at the business establishment that would of been the most likely place of its disappearance. And have I not mentioned the relentless fuckery over hats that has gone on since 04-2002? I cannot be allowed to wear a hat, typically a toque in the winter, without it moving by itself on my head, usually the top gets lifted up by an inch or two. And how did my summertime bucket hat of four years suddenly get ripped up in the washing machine a few months ago, its final laundering of the vineyard growing season? Just relentless and senseless fuckery over hats. It seems that somebody wants to change up the fabric (more than anything) and color of my hats much sooner than would ever wear out. My new toque just had to be cashmere for crissakes.

More cane cutting in the vineyard, then loading bundled canes in the bins and then truck, and then later, pulling the canes from the vines. Full task scope today. And two storms into the deal; snow in the morning, and then rain in the afternoon. And cold on both accounts. And the late day dinge onset; it seems like it would be 1600h (sun goes down behind the mountain at about 1500h) going by the light levels of a few days earlier when in fact it is only 1500h. By manipulating the cloud colors and their predominance, and their location, it seems the ambient light levels can be highly manipulated later in the day. I don't know what the perps get from this, but they sure like to plant a responsive depressive reaction on me. Somehow, they know I loathe dingy light conditions and play it up. Throwing snow and rain into the mix, along with cold fingers today, makes it all the more interesting for them I suppose.

Another pre-sundown game they like to play on other days is to allow a shot of direct sunlight peeking under the cloud cover for some 10-20 minutes before the sun goes down. The perps have no end of interest in direct sun illumination, and it seems, all the variations into night time. If one wants to apply this controlled world notion to planetary genesis and subsequent geological developments, this here Earth Lab could be one spinning top, and tilting its axis some 23 degrees adds all that seasonal variation that also seems to be such a big part of the perps' experimentation games.

The van-living Quebequois girls on the work crew had their wardrobe tested today; one had gaudy pyjama bottoms outside of her pants in an attempt to stay warmer. Talk about color clash clothing with her checked jacket. The boss man donated some clothing for them to wear, and the one with the tight fitting pants (on attractive slim legs) was wearing stovepipe-like rain-pants today. I suppose that is how it goes, these wardrobe changes the perps find so essential are of course, weather governed. The cute one is bundled up so much that I can barely see her face.

The vehicle got fixed today; the thermostat was stuck open somehow. A $200 bill hurts enough, and I don't need any more of this crap. And the he-she tag teaming at the service counter was on again, time for payment. She of the jet black hair, got to sit there (not looking particularly pretty) at the counter doing nothing much, while the guy (of the above mentioned gangstalk vignette) took off to get something, and his father returned in his place after five minutes. The ongoing stunts, feints and delays etc. while about to purchase, or otherwise engage in a financial transaction is endless, as it is senseless.

Saturday, working in the vineyard doing cane collection; cutting, pulling, bundling and packing the bundles, all in one day no less. And too, I got to drive the boss' ATV for the first time. Cold, but I was warm with foot warmer inserts in my boots. And hand warmers stuffed in my gloves. These seem to have magnetic qualities, and giving off heat might also fit the perps' energetic games requirements. I have given up on trying to figure out what their game is, though if one accepts that there is an energetic ether, and many of these electromagnetic, thermal and even chemical eruptions/stunts serve to perturb the energetic ether around me, you have a good start. 

As it turns out, one of the crew is a helicopter pilot; he is helping pull canes and bundling them. Two more Quebecquois joined the crew today, a couple. And something about baggy pants on males that I need to see for whatever reason, not that I like baggy pants on anyone, male or female. 

Even the weather cooperated to some extent, the deep dark clouds staying to the N and not covering the sun. Though they pulled a small snow storm for 20 minutes after our morning coffee break for whatever reason. They seem to like an added white color on the ground for short durations. Not unlike the gangstalker assholes bringing their frozen grocery goods purchases ahead and behind me at the checkout.

Enough nonsense for a week, and now to post this.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Naturopathic Diversion

Saw the naturopath last week over my prostate cancer, and I explained some of my past medical history, but she adroitly cut me off when I was about to explain the 04-2002 apartment invasion by unknown personnel, (and the associated ADD pro-dopaminergic treatment cessation) the opening barrage of this nonstop abuse-athon. Funny how her timing was so impeccable just when the story was getting interesting. Talk about well scripted or well mind controlled (or both).

She said not to worry about dopamine deficiency; here we go again, climbing that wall of  adversity of getting treated for dopamine deficiency. Been there, done that, now 4 for the count this time. (Counting as follows; one walk-in clinic GP stared at me when I mentioned a dopamine deficiency, another GP flat out said "I cannot help you" -no discussion, and the urologist avoided any discourse when I mentioned this. AND I find out recently that dopamine deficiency is implicated in bladder and urological problems). Not forgetting during the 1996-2001 depression and dysfunction years, three shrinks and one neurologist (count=4 again) blew me off about not having ADD, a dopamine deficiency problem by definition. And too, I had had done prior homework by studying the clinical text and told them exactly the symptoms I had that supported my determination. So here we go again; climb that dopamine deficiency research wall and get blown off by supposed medical professionals. When does this insane bullshit ever end? Though I suppose when one paints the larger picture of worldwide street/addiction drug abuse there sits behind it dopamine deficiency problems. And one can be sure the perps are fully aware of this rich research (as they see it) field.

The naturopath also got onto the topic of "not feeling like I am being maligned or singled out for adverse experiences", all without me telling her anything about the ongoing harassment. More ridiculous farce at times. Added to that, she had never heard of paw-paw, my present #1 herbal that seems to be helping to reduce my prostate cancer if PSA numbers can be relied upon.

The perps kept me awake for most of the night last night. As usual, no sleep deprivation effects, a new "feature" since the assholes rounded on me in 04-2002

I see my employer of the last year is changing things up; hiring a full time vineyard manager to run the show and the owners stepping back. Where I fit in is up in the air should the ideal candidate be found. I don't have experience running tractors so I don't count; I am just the manual labor, replaceable by foreign import workers. That is my lot in life since about 2008 when the perps finally allowed me to do farm labor, as who else doesn't care about a six year (perp created) hole in one's resume?

I see my fleece toque (hat) disappeared between here and the sun tanning salon. And what is it about hats that the perps need to attack (hat-attacks)? Since all this harassment started in 04-2002 they constantly move my hat on my head, have it blow off, get knocked off etc. Even the stalker's hats move all by themselves; e.g. slowly slipping down the head of bus passengers for example.

A stop at the convenience store on the way home from the winery. A strange act at the counter, back facing me. A small framed person in blue overalls (same blue as my rain pants that I had been wearing earlier today) with dayglo and reflective strips, a silver fleck motorcycle helmet on and straight blonde hair some 20" below the helmet. In the mind controlled state I took this to be a woman, and lo, once the person turned around, a man. Score another for the perps as they so like to mix male and female imagery and features and have me "get it wrong". Said individual did the loiter at the counter act to slow me up to getting where the Aero bars are, and lo, if he didn't purchase the same item as I did, said the fellow behind the counter. Another copy cat act, this time over a chocolate bar for crissakes. I presume he was the driver of the silver colored motor scooter that was parked outside.

Wednesday, the last week of this odious winery gig, with the perps threatening to make it worse in some way. More planted confusion, fuckups, misperceptions perhaps. Keeping me in the F of FUD for sure. I have been cleaning the grape processing equipment now for three days, and some more tomorrow.

The New Zealand girl's last day is tomorrow, so perhaps Friday I will be carrying her load and that will be a disaster as she knows her stuff and has been doing so competently for the last 6 weeks. As for me, the perps won't let me run a pump or hook up a hose without fucking up; either the fittings don't fit or I hook up the wrong tank etc. Obviously winery work isn't for me when the perps severely downgrade one's abilities when working at a new winery.

Then this perverse after work vineyard visit; a dingy dusk visit (at 1600h) that then became dark. Then a quasi-tasting in the vineyard office. Some drama added when one of my work colleagues drove off the road to investigate a low oil light problem and hung her car up on a deep ditch edge. Two of the winery staff went out later and pulled her vehicle out of danger with a pickup truck and drove it to where were gathered. I assume someone else gave her a ride to the office, though that part wasn't explained. Anyhow, this apres-work red wine tasting continued in this small room in the vineyard building until 1800h, when I had finished work at 1530h. It wasn't until 1900h until I got home. Nice wine my employer makes though, as it was the first I have tasted.

I suppose in hindsight, the above vineyard visit and drinking of the wine from that same vineyard must of been some kind of energetic testing between the two; that is the soil that grew the grapes and the wine that was made from it. The wine consumption at the very location the harvest party was scheduled two days later for all the vineyard pickers and the winery workers, save me. That is to say, it seems the "vibe" between the soil, grapes (weeks of prior processing and handling), and the derived wine from the 2013 vintage was being tested on me in advance of all the others who were (or are) part of this whole harvest. And at this very location. And I suppose, to attempt to replicate said "vibe" from this nonconsensual subject (me) and detect it in others at the harvest party in two days time. Speculation of course, but as "earth energies" seem to be so important to the perps, vis a vis food and beverages, they appear to want to expand their discoveries about me to a larger cohort, and ultimately, the entire animal population IMHO. As to what the objective is I don't know, but would entertain what others suggest.

Thursday, my second to last day of work at this winery, and not unexpected as I was hired as a harvest hand, aka, harvest cellar worker. It was expected to be a 6 to 8 week gig, and this is week 8. Why I had to tell the boss man that I was done last week is beyond me, as why didn't he tell me what would be going on since the end of harvest last week is beyond me. (I start a two week gig next week). A harvest party at the above mentioned vineyard office tomorrow, but I won't go. Too far and stuck in the dark in the vineyard with either the French speaking co-workers I know, and the picking crew whom I don't know, just doesn't grab me. And I am feeling disenfranchised all round anyhow, and these early dusk onsets of winter just dull me out and make me want to crawl into bed.

More grape processing equipment cleaning today, then barrel batonnage, the stirring of the lees (sediment) in the barrels with a special tool that has chain on it that disturbs the sediment. Easier said than done, as the barrels are on racks, five high, and getting the tool in from the side when there is another barrel beside and above it without dragging the tool or its chain onto icky surfaces like the barrel racks (paint lifting off the steel) or the ladder (14' platform) takes some doing. And of course, my ever loathsome real-time obstructors make sure the tool hangs up and that it is much more difficult to deal with than otherwise. Plus they screw with my finger control and especially like to freeze my thumb just when I want to use it. All to increase awkwardness and to serve as a ongoing source of infuriation. (Not loudly expressed of course, co-workers and all). The perps went all out after lunch, which fits their normal schedule of pissing me off all the more after food consumption. All those digestion changes to body energy I suppose, not to mention food colors and composition. And of course, the extra and nominal visits by other work colleagues for trivial or silly reasons.

And what is it about working on wine barrels that interests the perps so much? Over the past three weeks they pulled two all-facility fire alarms both within a few minutes of me starting on barrel battonage work.

Last day at the winery, and the perps had me in fear it was going to be another day of hell, now that the New Zealand girl has gone. It didn't turn out that way thankfully, and they brought in one of the vineyard guys to do winery work. I worked on barrel battonage (stirring the lees) some 12' up a step ladder (five barrels high), then onto open barrel pilage, then power washing in the winery on the tanks which were grimy behind. That took care of the day, and I didn't go to the harvest party afterward and so I had an evening to myself.

That meant getting the laundry done, or so I thought. It was mostly done, save the three items that got white grease marks on them, another perp touch I have come to find.

Saturday, and a day of incremental fuckery; they were all over me after I cashed my last paycheck  today, and then kept it up by heavy gangstalking for the two places I visited afterwards.

They screwed me into a late start in the day, having me get up at 1000h for a 11 hour sleep. I didn't need any more than 8 hours, but someone decided otherwise. This strange pattern of getting up late on weekends just pisses me off as of course by the time I get out and about it is at least 1100h, and every place is choked thick with gangstalking action. I want to do my shopping early or late, and they know that, and do their best to screw me out of that useful habit.

Then to deal with the grease marked clothing; the varsol took three store visits to find. Then getting the varsol smell out became a problem, as it defied a washing machine. Then hand washing the garments with dish detergent, and then rinsing in the sink. Then an ersatz clothesline in the fiberglass shower stall to have them drip dry. Who knows what that was all about, but in the least, it was more variations on their senseless and relentless laundry fuckery. A little late in the year to be hauling fibreglass boats around, but fibreglass covered campers are still about.

And what is it about coordinated email non-responses? On Tuesday I sent two emails to different parties on widely different subjects. One to the doctor that once promised a dopamine test and I wanted to follow up. Another to my daughter to borrow a certain CD from the Vancouver library and bring it over at Christmas where we are to meet in Victoria. (So I can copy the files as Amazon wants over $700 for this CD for crissakes). Both haven't replied in three business days, and now four in the case of my daughter. Or at least, it seems coordinated to me, and all the more when it seems that not even a gnat moves in my proximity without perp authorization. Yes, I know that sounds totally paranoiac, but I didn't come to these conclusions all by myself. And the minute I refuse to believe in this, why, some stunt erupts to then confirm just what I didn't want to believe. Thanks a bunch; I cannot be left alone in my beliefs, or even in belief avoidance.

Sunday, and a whole day off of doing reading. First a biography of DVR, the Mayor McDougal Street, an entertaining life of living in the Village of NYC in the 1950-1960's. Then today I was allowed to finally read Non-Motor Symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, edited with separate authors for the 31 chapters. Another perp interest is attempting to derive the "vibe" or whatever it is (psychic transference or connection?) from a  book, in this case, comparing a single author biography to a multi-author (and) edited book. All getting back to their epistemology objectives, as to where information comes from and is it "tagged" with some kind of quantum information properties they are attempting to remotely detect. All speculation again of course, but they have a considerable interest in where I get my information from and take great pains to elicit this from me at select moments in the select context of where and in association with whom.

[updated this paragraph 06-12-2016]
An idle web browse turned up this PoS from the NY Times, ("United States of Paranoia: They See Gangs of Stalkers", detailing Timothy Trespas' TI travails) by Mike McPhate. (Why didn't they just dust off the 11-12-2008 hit piece, "Sharing their Demons on the Web", by Sarah Kershaw, who interviewed me for an hour?)  Objectivity in the mainstream press? Forget it. And if thousands of TI's have similar stories from all walks of life, including practicing medical physicians, how on earth can this be considered delusional? And to insinuate that the internet contributes to the "problem" is preposterous; and they call that journalism for crissakes. It is the shrinks, and amateur shrinks (aka psychologists) and other denial-detritus that they quote, that have the problem, to the extent they should be relegated to the Liar's Club. (Or else they are paid-for shills). And the NY (Some) Times can be assigned as the NY Hit Piece Times as far as I am concerned. Or perhaps more broadly, the NY Status Quo Post. Speaking of which, the 2008 piece has been re-edited as I don't see any reference to me, not by name, but to the experiences I related to the author.

And for the record, two shrinks say I am being harassed, as I do. And furthermore, delusional's stories begin to logically break down and don't make any sense. Not to mention become conflated with other notions of military research, aliens (both possible), NWO, and the larger doomer perspective. (And I refuse to use the "conspiracist" term, misleading in the extreme). I am not trashing these larger perspectives just to be clear, as they may well be correct in the main. All I am saying is that day-day harassment (in all its conventional and unconventional forms), targeted abuse and gangstalking is the reality of TI's. As to who, why, and how it is delivered we do not know, and it is speculation. And of course the NY Times conflates the speculative elements to add a more discrediting flavor to their article (aka hit piece). Stick to objective journalism, and I might buy your rag sometimes.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Buzzing Around Me Like Flies

Raining today, and no picking. I didn't know for sure at first so I was cleaning the grape processing equipment anyhow, which I routinely do every before each day. The winemaker boss man didn't say anything, so I assumed I was doing the right thing. As it "happened" four bins came in, and on top of the 2 bins we had, it was sufficient.

The Quebequois couple I regularly work with didn't come in, by arrangement with the winemaker, so it was all up to me to get the conveyor, de-stemmer, crusher and must pump sanitized and ready. (Normally, they do the latter two, and I clean the former two devices). Once done, and in consultation with the to-be manager in 2017, I was to sanitize a particular tank. I installed the spray ball on top when on the catwalk and noted that there was a thin layer of wine on the bottom of the tank. Once back down I cracked the valve a little, but there was no wine flow. I began to open the man-way and some wine came out. I closed it up, though confused as to why anyone would leave a skiff of wine in a tank. I asked around, and was told it was OK to drain it. I began to do so, but some one else came and phoned the winemaker for advice. He conveyed that it was good wine but since it had already been let out, just to leave it run. I thought this was inexplicable at the time, but I followed his instruction, and proceeded to sanitize the tank.

Once the winemaker came back I caught shit for letting the small amount of wine out of the tank. Like WTF; it could of been recovered if I had been given the direction to do so. Another WTF; the to-be-manger was on the phone to the winemaker minutes beforehand as to elicit direction to give to me. Another WTF; what was a 1/2" of wine sitting in the 87hL tank (8' diameter) for? (Asking for oxidation, if nothing else). Anyhow, the whole deal seemed like a total set-up to give me shit. This, IMHO, starting with the absence of the Quebequois couple who always looked after prior tank sanitization for the last 5 weeks, and so it goes. And what is it about these "catch shit" set-ups, at least the third of this winery gig of 6 weeks now, that seems so important for the perps?

Anyhow, this dysfunctional day continued until late afternoon when the French guys finally helped out with the fork-lifting of grape bins, and them finding out what the additions were as the tank gets filled. The winemaker isn't into personnel management, and it showed in spades today. Then and there I decided I needed to exit this place ASAP; these "catch shit" set-ups, letting me "spin in the wind" (do-squat) of no work direction or oversight, and the regular chaotic work place.

Co-workers buzzing around me all day at work. what is the deal? Is it that I started at 0800h instead of my usual 1100h? No idea, but when they put on two ambulances (in opposite directions) on the highway as vehicular gangtalking coverage during my 30 min. commute, something big is up. Neither was in an emergency, there were no prior accidents, so both were just cruising around. I don't know what the deal is about their activities, but the inordinate number of ambulances that need to cover me is just ridiculous.

Another semi-deranged behavior by the above mentioned cellar hand that misguided me on the tank cleaning mentioned above. He was running a pump near the grape receiving equipment which needs four electrical outlets, 3x480v and one 600v. Needing these outlets creates problems with coordination with other workers as they need the same outlets for the pumps to do pump-overs of the wine in the tanks. Said cellar hand had his pump running nearby and I didn't perturb it any, and I never do. He grabs the 480v cord I had laid out and  said he needed an outlet for the pump and I said he already had one, which was obvious. I asked him if he needed another outlet and he said he didn't, but continued to wrap up  the power cords that I had laid out minutes previously. I didn't say anything more, as it seemed he didn't want to translate  (or explain) just what he was doing and what for. Anyhow, I got onto a few other things and then later asked him where he put the power cord and he said on the grape receiving equipment, so obviously he didn't need it. I picked up the cord and set up the equipment, still respecting his use of the pump as it was still running. So what was that all about? This guy intervenes and undoes my work, for no seeming reason and no listening to any logic that I provided. I call it semi-deranged, if I don't call it perp obstruction.

Above mentioned cellar hand also pulled this same stunt about two weeks ago; the conveyor was plugged into this panel for cleaning in the morning, and he unplugs it, wraps up the cord and lays it down on the floor and then walks off. (I "happened" to see him do this from the other side of the grape receiving equipment some 25' away).  I assumed he needed the outlet so I got onto something else for five minutes. I later see the cord still sitting on the floor, and plugged it in, and he didn't need the outlet at all. So what is it about plugging in, or out, power cords that so interests the perps that they send in this sabotage artist in twice to unplug my cord? And the latter incident mentioned above, where he seemed impervious to reason?

I don't know, but one can also say ditto to joining hoses together, or to pumps and tanks. And ditto for attaching nuts to bolts and the rest of the fuckery that goes down when I assemble of disassemble objects.

This same guy asks me to hose down some wine lees on the floor as I was nearby with a hose in hand and so I immediately oblige. Some 10 seconds into this, he grabs the hose from my hand and then proceeds to do the hose down, and a shitty job at that as it was incomplete. More semi-deranged behavior from this individual. He must be a perp operative to act so weird and not be concerned as to how is is cumulatively perceived. Not to mention the ridiculous top-knot (not quite a man bun) hair style he wears.

A leg wax scheduled tomorrow, but no prior notice of appointment when they routinely do so all the time. Have we not encountered appointment games before? Wrong times, wrong week written into diary and then "detected" in time, placing an appointment sticker from the doctor's office in my diary and lo, if they don't change the date on me so I have this obstructing (and useless) sticker covering up the date, etc. So what is it about perp fuckery that they need to piss with appointments, save the content/exchange, in all its myriad trivia? Don't know, but it has long been noted, and accelerated fuckery since the perp sickos went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

Worked 15 hours yesterday to see the last of the grape harvest through; that is, attend to the "receiving" of de-stemming, crushing and pumping to the tank. Plus all the prior and subsequent equipment cleaning. Next week will be different, but after 11-16-2016 per above, when there was screw all to do because of no (or limited) picking that day, I am not too optimistic. The perps like to have me "spin in the wind" and have no-work periods at work while everyone else has their heads down doing other things and the boss man is functionally AWOL.

Anyhow, I have a new short term job starting next week; even if only for two weeks it gives me the excuse to get out from the harassment and deranged co-worker behavior over winery work. That would additional to perp harassment when they scramble my head over operating equipment I know how to operate, pumps, fork lifts (when I was allowed), and anything else. Not to mention a few set ups like the one mentioned above.

The wonderful Quebequois couple I worked with for the last 6 weeks had their last work day. And lo, sometime around 2200h, another Quebequois couple "arrives" who seem to be their replacements. Tres bizarre (en francais) to say the least; there wasn't any legit work for them to do as we were in deep on the grape processing, and it seems awfully strange to have a couple replace a couple as work crew and start in the last hours of a very late Friday. The Quebequois component isn't too odd in that the winery is owned by a French company and the personnel are nearly all French speaking. And the three French (from France) young vineyard guys will be now freed up too.

I gave the option for the boss man if he wanted me for next week and he said yes, so I am mystified as to how all this is going down. Perhaps they want me for "exposure" to the new couple as they settle into their new job. I get "shopped out" as mentioned, aka, "victim touring" in my parlance. Or perhaps a final week of hell to convince me that working in commercial wineries is not in the cards and that I am to stick with vineyards.

Speaking of victim touring, they put on a 250+lb fat man in coveralls wandering into view while I was on the conveyor and grape sorting. Said man was doing his regular duty as a building facilities technician, but he sure got my attention as I was deep into grape processing. (The building section is leased to the owner of the much larger facility, so their staff do regular service inspections). There is no question as part of the Unfavored freakshow that the perps like to put fat folk on or around me, but this time I seemed to have a small startled reaction. All to elicit my abreaction responses I assume, from the days they may have abused me aged 2 to 5 when they deleted my recall somehow. As mentioned many times on this blog, I was forming long term memories at aged two, and suddenly only at age 5, with some minor exceptions. Certainly no abusive episodes are recalled, but not recalling where I lived for those years is mighty peculiar to say the least.

Speaking of service inspections, the asshole who moved the ladder I was on (a wheeled version that was in locked down position) last week also "happened" to cruise by and mentioned that he might of not apologized for moving the ladder. I gave him a lame "thanks", when I should of reamed his ass. He didn't apologize at the time, but just hung around avoiding my intense stare. Why he didn't apologize then for such an egregious safety intrusion I have no idea, let alone senselessly loitering afterward can only be attributed to this nonstop perp perversity managed abuse-athon that I live in (IMHO). As it turned out, the ladder moving culprit was a negro, something I didn't detect until today for all the hair and beard netting wear the building lessor staff wear.

Sunday, and in typical perp fuckery for a day off, they had me sleep into 1000h all to punch a hole in my day. This constant battle with them over getting up early to have more free time is yet another distinguishing feature of this micro managed fuckery. Even when starting work at 1100h they would have me get up at 0830h over the past 6 weeks or so all to minimize my free time before setting off to work at 1030h.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Ladder Larks

Sunday, a day off, and in the new format of not putting down jottings during the week, here I go. That is, the perps have decided to manage me in exquisite detail, more than micro-manage even, and screw any routine of mine no matter how small. Especially those routines that work reasonably well.

An example would be keeping track of my revenues and expenses in Quicken, and looking at the monthly reports. Often which would prod me into action to spend less on such and such, and guide my financial behavior. And too, reconciling it and keeping track of my bank account. Now, all that has devolved since 10-2015, and I don't keep on this any more, which just pisses me off. I do look at my bank account monthly to pay bills, but it would seem that I am not allowed to keep on top of the details of where money comes and goes. Any sudden behavior changes are automatically ascribed to the perps who I have come to find can remotely influence all neural activity. As strange and invasive at it seems, it is a reality for me in these imposed circumstances. Not unlike other TI's, marginalized desperadoes of no choice.

And what is the ongoing and utterly ridiculous obsession of the perps over ladders of all description? This was immediately apparent in the year they went berserk/overt on me 04-2002, when they made their presence loud and clear in an opening apartment invasion of considerable unconventional methods. And I have been run and ruined since, not to mention constantly abused and harassed. Infuriating me is their first and best move it seems.

Back to ladders; since they went berserk/overt they have paraded ladders on pickup trucks and vans, aka, the Ladder Patrol, around me everywhere in traffic. Sometimes running three or four vehicles in succession, often with different ladder orientations; on pickup truck racks where the ladder is horizontal, propped up the the forward rack (and wedged where the tailgate meets the box bed), at a 30 degree angle or so to the road surface, and the inevitable stacks of ladders on trades vans. I have never seen so many ladders in motion all my life in those heavy vehicular gangstalking years, 2002 to mid-2006 until they financial screwed me out of me owning a vehicle. Mind you, the Ladder Patrol didn't give up, it is just that they needed less of them as I was walking mostly, save public transit trips. In the latter case, the on board freak show rotation caught my attention more than what was outside.

So it was last week when at work in the winery when I was up a particular kind of ladder that has steps with side rails, and is mobile with four wheels and a mechanism to lift two of the wheels at the entry to stabilize it so one can climb the steps. So here was I up 14' on the top step attending to barrel stirring, and this building maintenance schmo release the wheels and starts moving the ladder. Like WTF; I yelled down below to tell him that I was on it, and he resets the wheels down and doesn't bother with an apology, or even look up as to what damage he may have done. (Or anything that may be coming down on him; I had a small bucket of cleaning solution up there). So, I called down, why did you move the ladder? And he says, he wanted to access the air conditioner that was behind, it, and I said, "and without looking?". Still he doesn't make eye contact, or in any way appear to atone for this utterly irresponsible safety violation (IMHO).

After this, and still up the ladder, he still hangs around, even though he wasn't part of the regular winery crew. The boss man comes up the ladder, looking sideways curiously (who does that normally), and when at at the top he asks me if everything was OK. I say it is now, but not when the mofo below was moving the ladder. He appears to understand and I tell him that I am finishing up, and he goes back down. As do I in a few minutes. The ladder moving mofo is still hanging around and finally gets to his air conditioner, and still does nothing to atone for his outrageous safety violation. Like WTF; what was normal about any of anyone else's behavior in all of this?

I use a 7' step ladder each day at the winery, about 2x per day to attend to cleaning of the taller equipment that we use. There is no end of buzzing around me before, during and returning the ladder so say the least. Why, they even keep the door open for me when I pack it out. How civil.

Moving on from ladders, there the matter of hose fittings that is a huge deal for the perps. Not only do they often not fit when they should, but the perps constantly scramble me as to which way to turn them, being DIN threaded fittings. Of course I know which way to turn a nut or threaded object, close to 55 years now, and lo, if the assholes don't dither me when undertaking this basic winery function of joining hoses, some 2" ID. And of course I deal with water hoses too, 1" diameter or so. And too, there are some fittings that adapt between the two of them. In the aid of this situation, I ordered a part from the destemmer manufacturer to adapt a European tapered fitting to the North American NPT, as the winemaker wasn't too engaged in getting the part. And lo, two days ago, two independent delivery personnel arrive together through the door, and I was 30' away. One was was bearing a new 1" hose line (100' or so) that the winemaker ordered, and the other was the Fedex guy delivering the destemmer adapter part in a 8"x6" envelope. Once I later got the adapter fitting on the destemmer, it was that same water hose that I connected to it, as it has an internal sprinkler cleaning system. What an astonishing coincidence; both these new connectable items arriving in the hands of two independent individuals who arrived in the building at the same time. Hats off to ECCO, the Earth Coincidence Control Organization, though the obviousness was over the top IMHO.

A solid morning of imposed mental fuckery this morning (e.g fittings that don't fit) all over setting up a pump, sanitizing the hoses and doing barrel filling. And a few of these in front of the boss man, though he fucked me up in his ever hyper "helping", though he did apologize for it. OK; I get it, straight from the perps- full time commercial winery work is not in my vocational future. Back to the vineyard as soon as I can, but that won't be for a few months, and isn't an entirely fuck-up free activity as I have come to know all too well. All I have to do is gracefully exit from this winery job, and hopefully in a week or so when the harvest is done.

Enough for a post I figure, and to keep my Sunday posting routine. (And which was screwed up due to being out of town last week and then harvest party Sunday night).

Friday, November 11, 2016

Pit Lamping Redux

And what is it about pit-lamping, (shining lights in the face of the victim), that is so important of late? Not to mention the increased (3x pre-04-2002 normal) "stray" reflections that find their into my face.

And I suppose, driving at night as I do for the duration of this winery job for 6 weeks is just the thing, though I suppose this wouldn't be "pit-lamping" as such as there is the excuse it is a public roadway. But most often the oncoming vehicles of differing headlight types, come in in threes. And at the same location several days in succession, e.g. at road bends, two lane merges into a single lane.

And then pit-lamping me twice in two days while eating lunch in my car at work. Ditto for making said lunch while in my residence and then a pickup truck "happens" to have arrived outside and parks to ensure their headlights are pointed through the chain link gate, through my window and onto me in the kitchen area. Also two days in succession. And quickly dealt with by going to the window and closing the venetian blinds.

An additional stunt is when I arrive at my residence after a 30 minute night time drive, (again, pit lamping of a kind with the oncoming road traffic), the assholes extend this lunacy by having me fumble my keys at the locked gate, and with my key fob LED flashlight, they make sure to extend my egress and too, ensure that the flashlight also gets fumbled and flashes into my face.

A visit to the wretched urologist. Though, the PSA test is trending the right direction, as I am now 4.3 when below 4.5 is normal. (in the US and other places, 4.0 or less is normal). The test is trending the right way, as I was 5.9 in 05-2016. Still, it is unlikely to be the end of my cancer, so on with more expensive supplements, and upping the ante with various cleanses etc.

Said urologist doesn't make any mention that my supplements might actually be working, citing "normal fluctuation". And of course he doesn't ask what supplements I might be taking, and if I feel they are working etc. He just doesn't want to know.

And more on the doesn't-want-to-know (or help) front; I mentioned the urination urgency problem came back in 09-2016, and he doesn't ask about it or even offer any advice. How ridiculous is that? Almost as ridiculous at the time he had his secretary phone me after two of his Rx medications didn't solve the urination urgency problem in early 2015, and she said (on his behalf) to go to my GP. As in (an all time) WTF; I present with an urology problem and the urologist sends me to my GP.

Said urologist further distinguished himself today after I asked for a referral to the Cancer Treatment center in Kelowna, by saying that he encouraged it "along the lines of what we talked about last visit". What utter bullshit; we did not have any conversation about this, and I only subsequently found out this option about this from elsewhere. Elsewhere was the Okanagan Prostate Support Group in Kelowna, something else the wretched urologist "happened" not to tell me about.

Another interesting moment with the urologist was when somehow the topic got onto me saying that conventional medicine is at a dead end in thinking that cancer is a somatic cell mutation problem. I got the intimidative, "You mean to say that the medical community in all the hundreds of millions of dollars of research a year (in Canada) has got it wrong?" I mentioned that Royal Rife had cancer beaten in the 1930's, and all 44 of the associated doctors who worked with his equipment and methods had a banquet to celebrate the end of cancer. A year later, the AMA beat up on Royal Rife and threatened the supporting doctors and that was the end of that. An incremental world atrocity, right here in America. Anyhow, the upshot was that the urologist isn't much of an actor, and there were all manner of tells to roundly indicate this whole skit was either rehearsed ahead of time or that he knew he was bare-faced lying. Same difference.

A flight at 0645h from Kelowna, non stop to Victoria. Which meant getting up at 0330h and driving there. The airport security confiscated my keychain which had a 1" knife blade on it that I entirely "forgot" about it. Funny, they missed it before. But, they allow 6" scissors, so what it the deal, and any schmo can modify scissor blades to make them lethal and because the metal is overlapped when closed, the security folks would not pick this up on their scanner anyhow. Go figure. (And of course the timing was such that I didn't have sufficient time to take the keychain penknife back to my vehicle).

A half full Q400 flight, maybe an 80 place aircraft. But why this cluster (of 20) around me in the rear of the aircraft, save the seat beside me and the seat opposite? And in keeping with the ongoing multiracial gangstalking show, they put the obligatory negro stalker, one seat ahead and on the opposite side. Then a negro aircraft person when we landed. The last flight I took they put on a negro flight attendant.

A major piss off stunt from two years ago was when my perp-abetting mother and ex took me to the airport and because there was extra time, they offered me some breakfast. And lo, 20 minutes later there was a horrendous line up at security. I had to jump the line to get to the front and get to the gate, and have my baggage put back on (the gate attendant said).

A group funeral at the care home, my father included in the those that died in October. I was the only one wearing a suit of some 20 males of 40 people. I find that strange, but perhaps dress codes have accelerated downwards, though it would be my first funeral in 15 years or so.

A First Feral Family visit a nearby Marks store after the funeral, as my brother owns two in another city, and my mother was chasing a sale item. And lo, if there wasn't a two fire truck "event" at the supermarket in the Broadmead Plaza (40 stores or so) with all the staff mustered near where we needed to park. That means, flashing red emergency lights etc.

My out-of-town (Victoria) brother, sister-in-law and niece took the same airline and flight (and same embarkation city) as I did, offset by a day, arriving and leaving a day earlier than I did. Which might mean something in this whole coincidence controlled world that I inhabit, and not out of choice.

I met up with the farm worker friend at MacDo's, and lo, if there wasn't some negro she knew but didn't explain. I hadn't visited one for a decade or more, since my young daughter's infatuation with the place.

No emailed boarding pass that the airline routinely does, and did for my outbound flight, so I phone and they say it is the time change; how lame is that, so I log onto the airline's web site and get my boarding pass. This constant game of fuckery as to where and how I obtain information, and this is just one more. In the some 9 or so return flights I made over the last four years, this is the first time they somehow "screwed up" in their normally efficient operations.

A flight back, negro couple two across the aisle and one seat ahead; And it was a negro couple, with her hair bun perched just above the seat back. To get into lead-ahead gangstalking position after exiting the aircraft they dogged me at the exit ramp doing a dip shit confusion routine so they could precede me. Then when I can, I bail out the exit outside, and lo, if they didn't do the same thing 120', paralleling me through the building.
Don't ask me what the deal is about the perps putting on female (mostly) hair buns, save what they allowed me to know, was that at alien sites (apparently), the bun wearing females are considered to be the "breeders". Yes, there is an alien motif component to all this, recessed chins and skin headed males also predominantly featuring in the Unfavored stalker features demographic. I haven't consigned hair buns, except on males, to the Unfavored categories, but it is interesting that this hair feature keeps getting prominence in this gangstalking show.

And if it wasn't enough from this 3 day visit to the First Feral Family to eat too much dairy, glutenous and sugared foods, why, they add more for my return flight. I was given 5lb of pine mushrooms (said to be contraindicated for cancer), and a 1lb ball of cheese my mother bought in Amsterdam. She "happened" to be on a week long junket in Europe when my father died; another piece of artful perp timing, though to what end I have no idea, but they definitely wanted her elsewhere for the termination (IMHO) event. And all the more curious that she didn't visit her sister in the UK, and in fact, didn't go there at all, only continental Europe.

Sunday that I returned, a harvest party; many more things I should not eat or drink; alcohol, doughnuts etc. All was well, and I met up with my vineyard employers of the last two years. As far as i know, I am to return to work there, but she wasn't committal like last year when she had me lined up to return at the end of the season in September. She doesn't leave anything to chance, especially vineyard labor. I wonder what is up.

And more memory fuck games while there, and too, imbalancing games in the guise of being drunk, which I wasn't. Incautious alcohol consumption tho', another anomalous behavior trait.

And the clocks return to standard time; and what is it about time changes that invokes predictable hassle over this again; the manual has gone missing again, and I cannot get the time reset via online manuals. This same shit went on year after year, when I had the manual but "somehow" it didn't work. I took it to the watchmaker each time, and he did the same thing I did, except it worked for him. Back to these electronic devices fuckery again. watches seem to be a particular "problem" for the perps, killing two steel mesh metal banded watches early in the harassment onset of 2002. They just did not want me to have a steel mesh banded watch. Now, it is a rubber banded watch, a digital one at that. Just one more insane pissing match with the assholes who run/ruin my existence.

Anyhow, I am five days late getting this out due to late work days and the usual forced late sleeps in the morning with added errands as well.

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Bereft of News

Saturday, and a whole day off, though I work tomorrow at the winery.

And I am bereft of news as I haven't been keeping daily jottings that get later expanded into the daily news listing. So here are some thematic rambles that cover the week.

But starting with the context, of working at a winery as a temporary harvest hand. Most days of the M-F work week there has been grapes coming in, some low volume days, some more, 20 bins (30" deep) at most. The fall weather has been atrocious by past years that I have lived in the Okanagan Valley; on-off rain that is much more characteristic of Vancouver or Victoria. Which makes for picking difficulties. And the winemaker tells me, the tannins are much reduced in these Bordeaux blend varietals.

So anyhow, the grapes come in bins and then get tipped into a hopper with an integral conveyor that lifts them up in discrete amounts into the destemmer, and then through the crusher below, and then into the hopper of a must pump that lifts up the must (mash like) into the tank opening some 12' higher through a 9" hose. Believe me, it takes a while to get this all set up as we move tanks each day, sometimes within the day.

And why is it that my work colleague's behavior on the conveyor line is near identical to those of past years, and as mentioned, for other agricultural products? That is, picking up the very item I was going to pick up, even if my hand was obviously poised to do so. Add it picking right in front of me where they could be picking their own "turf", that is, in front of them. Fucking bizarre.

Sunday, and I worked five hours to attend to barrel ferments; punch-downs (punching down the floating skins from the fermentation to ensure more extraction of flavors), and taking measurements. The perps just love to harass the hell out me when taking measurements, not to mention having wine spillage. And too, enraging me with forced "forgets" and inattentions, often leading to more mess. They even screwed my head around when I was siphoning a wine sample by having me remove the hose from the bucket and point it at the floor (to make a mess). Like WTF; I had been regularly removing the hose end from the source and stopping the siphoning like I had been doing, and have done for eons, but "somehow", I forgot? Total mind control and psychopathic torture.

Still savoring last week's music outing; 2/3 of Blackie and the Rodeo Kings at the Dream Cafe here in Penticton. I have two CD's that I purchased there that have been in high rotation all this week.

I bought a carpet runner two weeks ago to cover the high traffic route between the entry door and the kitchen as it just seems ridiculous to go from linoleum, over carpet, then then over linoleum again. But as the perps are totally fixated on floor coverings, this no doubt serves their purpose in some way. After 3.5 years of living here I am finally allowed to figure it out and "think" about getting a carpet runner to span the two linoleum surfaces where the intervening carpet area is. That was four months ago, and after driving past the carpeting shop every week on my way to the laundromat, I was finally allowed to stop by and get some carpet runner. It was 8' and lo, I "forgot" about the perp's carpet moving tricks. The runner moves by itself, slowly, but over a few days until I move it back. This "happened" back in 2003 a whole lot, and I eventually threw out the carpets as I was so pissed with this stunt (along with a whole lot more harassment). So here we go again, and this time I date-time stamped the locations you see in the pictures below. That is, the carpet runner moved 4" at one end in a day and a half. Don't ask me why I cannot put two pic side by side in this here Blogspot. Enough for a post I figure.