Sunday, March 13, 2016

Monday & Tuesday Like a Delayed Weekend

A Monday off, and just when I was thinking about working Tuesday at the casual labor job, why, one of my errands morphed into needing me tomorrow. So two successive days off, just following the weekend. The perps like these kinds of situations, having regular weekdays like weekends, activity-wise.

Errands, chores, etc. , rack server, etc. jawing with the PC tech at his shop, and as it "happens", he needs to upgrade to Windows 10, as his plans for a symbolic link for libraries in a single central location did not work. I know what he meant, but I don't understand why Windows 7 cannot allow this. Could be more bluff and guff I suppose, all to keep the PC four blocks down the street for more longer, now 2.5 months.

It did drive me nuts on the Windows 7 platform that Libraries, (music and documents mainly) were split up by User name, and under this directory structure. For back up purposes I wanted a single Library on a RAID disc pair and so the repair "problem" began. Then if there are multiple users, use the User permissions for access. I have no idea why Windows got into the My Documents thing and the rest of this fractionated absurdity. Finally they dumped it in Windows 10 I am told.

Grinder use outside, to cut some tabs off a rack server shelf; that got me helicopter coverage, at least 3 flybys (making a 180 degree turn) from the regular blue and yellow AStar machine in these here parts.

A blood sample too today, and that took nearly an hour with the parade of folks in and out, and the seeming accused miscreant beside me, his "confession" that he had to get a pee test. All his pacing around in the blood draw clinic and here he sits beside me. He politely asked about my pants, running tights, and I told them I wear them all the time in the winter as they have some fleece on the inside and don't let the wind come through. Funny that no one else has asked.

Another day off and I got more errands done, and even a hair cut too. They put a retard beside me at the next station, something I didn't figure out until afterward as I recognized him as one of the two door sentries that appeared when I approached the door way of the paper shredding business of three weeks ago. The retards seem to be employed there to do sorting and separating, and lo, one of them "shows" up beside me at the hair salon (a school).

The hair stylist student comes to greet me and calls me by name and then looks up and then into the distance past me. I cannot count the number of times I have seen this peculiar gaze control, especially when meeting someone, the look-away behaviour. And the look-up act too, first noticed when my family members started this new behavoir back in 2002.

While at the hair/spa salon I also got the avoidance act from the staff member who is usually friendly, she showing up 7' away at the cashier desk when I was about to pay and pretending not to notice me. All she had to do was raise her eyes as she was facing me. Funny how that "happens". At the least the owners said hello to me, (business owner gangstalking, a consistent theme), and I hardly know them and hadn't seen them for over a year. All part of the recognition weirdness that erupts around me.

I got onto the infernal rack mount project again, drilling more holes in the aluminum shelf supports, and drilling anew into a new piece of formed aluminum. As it "happened" the aluminum shop didn't have any channel or right angle stock so he formed them up on his equipment which worked fine for what I needed. So drilling the year old right angle stock from the foundry (or more accurately, the rolling mill), and the new just-formed stock for another shelf bracket was interesting enough that they put on the helicopters overhead, having them circle at least twice while outside drilling, maybe 300' above terrain. They circled overhead countless times afterward when I was inside too, though I don't pay much mind to that.

Finally rack mounted, got the just-repaired amplifier connected, and lo, if the assholes did not fix the problem in its entirety. Back to Chicago it goes or else I will dump it in the lake (just kidding). I cannot believe the intense barrage of incompetence I get from all quarters over basic stuff that should of been fixed the first time. (After it was sabotaged in the first place IMHO).

And I assume this successive round of sabotage relates to the new speakers, as of late Nov. 2015, that yet again, get to sit around unused. In retrospect this is not new; the perps just love to sabotage speakers, or else have family members steal them to prevent their installation. And too, they like to have items returned, e.g. warranty repairs. There is a long history of headphones and audio gear malfunctioning, including my very first transistor radio. It was new, but within three months the plastic battery case split and Sony didn't make good on their warranty. Three months later, the shop repaired with an aftermarket battery case, soldering it in and it wasn't a problem after that. What does it take for me and my belongings, especially those related to music replication, just to be left the fuck alone? And what is the perp's unrelenting, abiding and insane interest in what music I listen to, its source, the electronic playback chain and the final output transducers (headphones, speakers)?

And  why this surge websites that cannot be found? Give me a break; Google, Amazon, Craigslist, Globe and Mail, etc. all just happen not to be found in one weekday evening session on this here desktop PC. And now, adding the the audio source fuckery, Youtube and other sites won't play. On and on it goes with such unrelenting consistency.

"Back" at work after the ersatz seven day lay off. As anticipated, the new guy worked most of those days. No explanation from the management, nor any suggestion that this was a once only, or how many more of these are to come. Not exactly a welcome back sign.

A day of pruning vines today, mostly sunny, but windy. The boss lady and an assistant came out for a few hours too. The adjacent construction site still has the winsome construction worker babe who happened to be prominent each time I came to the end of a nearby row (and changed direction). Often I keep my head down, like a perp or perp-abettor even, just to avoid these made-for-me babe sighting moments. Such is my life, self censoring (aka avoidance) visual interactions as I know they are contrived.

Changing directions in farm work, from rows of potatoes, daffodils, carrots, raspberries, strawberries and now vines, it is always a big perp moment. It is related in some way to the anisotropic properties of the ether I suspect, that there are differing physical properties in different directions. (Like wood; you can split the end grain easily, but not cross grain). Which might also be congruent with why there are so many more vehicular fuckwits doing 180 degree turns ahead of me, or even greater azimuth turning. And who knows, it may also relate to the crop circles and like games of pressing down plants in a 360 degree arc.

Vineyard pruning all day today, just the cutting and not pulling as the other worker is to do that. Except that he didn't come today as he is ill, so me by myself. Again, the construction  worker babe was "featured" at the row ends, and in one instance, "happened" to be sorting through a lumber pile temporarily in the aisle (between the vine rows). That made her some 10' away, and all the more difficult to keep my head down and continue. Not a big deal in the long run of gangstalking and babe placement.

A change to daylight savings time, something I learned from overhearing someone at the folk club last night. Yes, I did get out to watch a folk singer last night, and I was not disappointed with his poetry and musicality. What I like about music most is that I learn about the human condition in all its nuances and behaviors. Can't get that from noise-rock or any of the simple minded pop "getting it on" laments. Not too unusually I got some extended stares from the singer from 40' away. It isn't the first time someone on stage has stared at me for no seeming reason. Which begs the question as to how they can pick me out when they are facing a bank of lights anyhow.

Said singer and his accompanist were loitering with their backs turned to me during set breaks and at the end of the show, but I suppose that was reasonably legit as the CD sales table was nearby. Besides, it was a cluster fuck scene anyhow as the stair joined the aisle just there, 6' from me.

But this thing of certain gangstalkers turning their backs to me in close proximity is nothing new, and was one of this first things I noticed about gangstalker behavior since this insane abuse began in 04-2002. Earlier this week I was hounded by this Chinese male fuckwit who backed up to my back, within 1', not once, but twice. I saw this back behind me while I was at a counter, and I moved 3' sideways. I look again in 20 seconds and the Chinese fuckwit had moved again to exactly behind me, somehow replicating exactly what he had done a few seconds before. All apparently without seeing or knowing as he had his back to me. Said fuckwit wasn't done there though; at the checkout he comes at me within 2' and staring past me like he didn't know he was so close, and I stare back at him wondering what the fuck he wanted or was going to do to me. Then he turns around and goes back to get something. The negro cashier, now thankfully without those god-awful dreads, made out she didn't notice squat. A multi-cultural moment just before I transacted with my debit card. And given the intense harassment over ANY FINANCIAL TRANSACTION I HAVE MADE since 04-2002, this Chinese stalker stunt was hardly a coincidence. Both Chinese and negroes are quite rare in this town, so I suppose I can chalk this stunt up to another fine coincidence from the coincidence-arrangers.

Not forgetting last year's near crotch grabbing stunt at a different store while I was using the debit card machine. The freebie magazine rack was there on the vertical counter surface and this wretched woman, the prior customer, hung back and loitered about for no seeming reason, and as I was on the debit card machine she reached for the magazine. Of course I wasn't allowed to engage in accusing her of grabbing my crotch in public as the perps keep so numbed and dumbed so their stalkers and operatives don't draw attention to themselves, no matter how egregious the stunt.

Onto getting  some more sharpening done on the pruner blades for the week. And to post this.

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