Sunday, April 24, 2016

The Ether-verse; aka the Electric Sky

I finished reading one of the most profound science books ever, "The Electric Sky; a Challenge to the Myths of Modern Astronomy" by Donald E. Scott. More like a "Excoriating Treatise Of the Ossified Status Quo of Science" (primarily astrophysics and cosmology). The Big Bang, General Relativity, black holes, string theory, dark matter and the expanding universe concepts and theories are roundly trounced and deservedly cast into the ditch of pseudoscience. Worse yet, the scientific establishment doesn't want to hear about it and invokes excuses to remain in unobjective denial mode. (Another link on the plasma universe is here).

The author provides an example of the RC cardinals of the day of Galileo; the cardinals happily looked through the telescope by day to view the landscape, but would not do so at the night sky as they didn't want to bring on inquiry that the Earth centric universe model was fundamentally flawed. The more I read about the RC church the more I come to the conclusion they are nothing but sandbags of human progress, technically and socially.

The upshot fo the book is that we live in an electric plasma universe (per author, plasmaverse), or the omniplasma continuum as TT Brown called it, and not only is the sun powered by these forces, but they are the real reason for planets, suns, stars and all cosmological events. The aurora borealis (northern lights) are just a warm up cookie. The present state of unbending astronomy-think is that gravitaic forces are responsible for all what we seen in the universe. Wrong, big time; electric (plasmic) forces are 36 orders of magnitude stronger. Electric and magnetic forces have been recorded on every space probe that have the instruments to record this data, all the way back to Voyageur 1 (1977, now over 2 billion miles traveled).

A very readable book, save two chapters on detailed star interactions, (for me, always hampered by some kind of cognitive problems when the details get technical) and worth it for the chapters on scientific method and the history of electric field theory and the scientific myth busting.

In other words, there is a universal ether and we are all connected by it, all the way to whatever star you want to name and whatever other life forms are out there. Something to think about, and all the more vital  when one considers that the perps know and exploit this all the time. Anyhow, I don't want to lay on too many scientific tangents in this here blog, but will post relevant pages and references in the Pages section.

An eventful day to say the least. I was in the vineyard at 0930h and I got a call about a "situation". So I returned to where the boss was, and learned that the delivery truck of wine had overturned on the street, but the driver, whom I knew personally, was OK. I was to join the co-worker and boss man to help clean up. When I got there, the 10 tonne flat deck truck was flipped over on the street and the traffic re-direction personnel were in place, and two fire trucks were on hand. The mission was to recover cases of wine from the tipped load, and put them onto the pallets we brought. And that we did, and the final act of a completing a pallet load of wine is to wrap it up in shrink wrap, which I did. And so, here was I, with my two co-workers, and two others packing and loading pallets of cases of wine in the middle of the street. And it "so happens" that I was packing pallets of wine earlier this week (on concrete surfaces in the winery), and partially last week. And if one wants to accept this existence of arranged coincidences, especially the perp's preoccupation with shrink wrap, the whole thing was an utter set up. And too, the perps emo-trashed me, making me feel much more emotionally wrought than I would be otherwise over this event, during and after.

And of course the RCMP were there, as was the aforementioned fire department with two trucks. The former were keeping pedestrians from stopping and looking and making sure they were walked on.

As part of the deal I was also on taxi duty; I ended driving a co-worker to the forklift rental depot, and later, the boss man and the truck driver back to the winery.

As it "happened", one of the owner's vehicles was forgotten down at the accident site, and as I "happened" to have a medical appointment in the afternoon, I drove a co-worker down to the accident site which was now all cleaned up.

And so to the doctor's appointment, this being the prostrate guy, the ass-poke specialist, supposedly a urologist, who jerked me around over the urinary urgency problem that erupted last year. (Now solved with a medication from the drop-in doctor for crissakes). An lo, if the PSA number isn't up to 5.9, from 5.1. That now begets more complications as he wants a biopsy done, and of course, a follow-up appointment. Thanks a bunch; none of this should never of happened IMHO as I am taking testosterone since 08-2015 which is prostate protective. More ass play games as I see it. And to add insult to injury, I "forgot" to roast HIS ass over last year's kiss off when he (a urologist) sent me to the GP for a urology problem. And when I mentioned the Rx to the ass-poke specialist, why, he didn't even ask why I might be taking it. He didn't want to know. Criminal doctor behavior again IMHO.

Then a blood test to follow for more testing for the drop-in doctor's concerns, though it isn't clear to me what they are all about. He blew me off again about addressing my iron deficiency, and of course, what hangs over it is a dopamine deficiency.

No wonder they shifted my ass poke appointment two days ahead of time about two months ago so all of the above could be timed together.

A busy day, in part in dealing with cleaning up after yesterday's spilled wine cases. Some had gasoline or detergent on them, others just had the cardboard rumpled or shredded. As it seems, little or no wine was actually lost; that is 6 pallet loads x 56 cases/pallet load x 12 bottles/case = 4,032 bottles of wine, and so far, we think that less than 20 bottles were broken, though we haven't found them. Three cases have a strong gasoline smell to them, and they may get tossed, but no broken bottles. Mind you, there were plywood covers on the sides and they covered the top of the load, which became sideways when the truck was tipped over. Had they not been there, the cases would of flew sideways down the street, perhaps 40' or more. Then there would of been broken glass with wine in the streets.

More shrink wrapping work in the afternoon; 15 pallets of wine barrels, three per pallet, had to be re-bunged, wrapped and cinched to the pallet. Cannot the perps get enough of me with wine, wood and shrink wrap contact?

Inside work shifting wine cases, then garbage duty, taking a load to the dump (refuse), plus visiting the recycling to drop off cardboard. The latter in keeping with the perps' insane preoccupation over garbage of all stripes. Then lawn mowing, weed eating, then vineyard work. A varied day for sure

Saturday, and I work at the casual labor vineyard employer. This was the first time in three weeks, and per last time, they took me off the payroll. Now I had to sign up again. I signed up last year, I signed up again at the beginning of this year, and now again. I have no idea why this stupid stuff goes down all too often.

I worked with the Mexicans today; no other locals and no Punjabis excepting the foreman. Minimal instruction for the afternoon's irrigation line maintenance job got me minor rebuke. Another WTF moment; all the Mexicans seemed to know what to do, except me.

And for some reason I was tired on the drive back; no seeming reason as the work wasn't intense, the temperature was warm and not hot, and no sleep deficit. This time the perps had the relative decency of putting on their eye stinging attacks before I drove off, and not on the highway which is their usual timing. And too, I was allowed to have the eye relief drops in my glove box this time, instead of suffering 20 min. or more of this wretched assault method.

Saturday evening, and the usual laundry, always of intense perp interest. They put on the  winsome babe again, a high school friend of the owner's daughter. (The family hangs out and helps with the laundry there). The perps sure know what I find attractive, feature by feature, and for the record, breasts aren't it.

This time she was limping from an injury of  some kind, as she had a plastic cast on one ankle. And what is it about the perps and their need to whack legs and ankles of late? They plainly nailed me with sprained ankle four weeks ago (and strangely accelerated the healing), and then whacked a work colleague with some kind of infection on his leg a week later. At the vineyard owners, a family member got hit with a major ski injury to her leg in February, and she is limping along and will need surgery in May. Do all these perp abettors sign up for this or what? Surely they would know who did it as there are no coincidences or accidents anywhere in my proximity.

Sunday, and the perps pulled another Immodium moment this morning. Like WTF; the last time it was attributable to fruit juice intake and since I dropped that possibility, why, they didn't need an excuse, they make it happen. Random cow pies in the toilet indeed.

And what is the perp's obsession over file copying, re-naming, and all other computer based file handling activities? The even put on the loathsome HD noise from outside, and a few minutes later even added hot-rod muffle noise outside while doing this. And too, infuriated me with forced keyboard blunders and mis-naming, (and other mental dithering) missing files from my ones to correct.etc. All this while performing music file maintenance activities as they need to be unzipped, unpacked from a single flac file into song files, edited in part and then renamed in keeping with my own standard.

And it seemed to be important for the perps to have me download flac files from a single particular online source, and then for one album, redirect me to get the files from CDbaby. In other words, for this nine album sudden "need", eight were from one source, and the ninth had to be from elsewhere. What is so important to the perps about that?

A hike today, after this morning's suckdown at this here PC, per digital file manipulations above. The perps just drive me crazy over getting out the door for a hike. All my hiking was begun before1000h, and now they divert me until 1200h or later, (1300h today before I set off), to then start. I absolutely loathe late day hiking starts, and here the assholes routinely hack my day so this occurs.

On my return route I stopped at the a ATM and there was an elder stalker loitering there and just finishing up. He finally exits and I attempt to put my card in and the ATM won't take it. After several attempts the ATM tells me it is temporarily unavailable. Masterful inconvenient timing if nothing else.

And to greet my arrival  on the way back, besides the plethora of vehicular gangstalking and clusterfucking at intersections, they parked a monster truck halfway into the public road just where I turn to drive down the alley to my residence, and just before that, why, a HD motorcycle pops out pushed by the lug-head (unpowered) across the street where he presumably resides. Adroitly timed for my slow speed at that moment, as if I had been traveling at normal road traffic speed (50kph) he would of been road pizza. And it is not like he looked ahead of time, so who gave him the instruction as to when to time his road crossing stunt? Like WTF, for the last three weeks he sets up shop with his pals across from me in the back alley, but now, it is on the other side of the house and street, his new noise and social hangout. The house is nothing but a perp center as far as I can tell.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Fourteen Years On


Not quite 14 years since this reign of psychopathic extra conventional abuse was overtly declared by the perps, that would be 04-15-2002. But as this week covers the anniversary of that particularly gruesome event that has ripped my existence to shreds, even as we speak/blog, it is close enough to call this posting the 14th Anniversary of Hell On Earth edition.

Even the notion of living in a free democratic county (USA then, Canada now) has been roundly debased, found to be a nominal notion for mass consumption at best. The concept of freedom as we conceive it is simply a Notion of Mass Deception in my jaded experience. Or, ask any TI for that matter; the law is a joke, the police (and other LEO's) are abetting criminals, and the medical professionals are compliant dupes to support the harassment and abuse of certain individuals that are selected for unrelenting persecution in the form of gangstalking, orchestrated staring, health invasions, coincidences beyond the norm, containment in magnetic (over 1800Gauss) and plasma fields beyond any normal background level and worst of all, remotely applied neural invasion in real time to alter vision, hearing, perceptions, thoughts and control of one's motor faculties. All in the name of human non-consensual experimentation of course, nothing new in 20th century medical and educational practice, with the abiding precept that the persecutors/Psychopathic Confederacy/ECCO/perps/assholes will not declare themselves to their victims, or the populace at large. Sure, my family are in on the gig, as are a cast of thousands of locals, but no one is telling me squat, save the odd exception noted in the Anecdotes posting.

As a consequence of this invasive tyranny, there isn't a day that I look forward to getting up; I'd rather die in my sleep every night. And if I want to end it another way, by running a knife into my wrist, why, an invisible force field stops it. Long past experience is that they can choke one's throat as needed to prevent pills from going down, as well as making them sticky so they cannot be swallowed. That big cliff called McIntyre Bluff that the perps like me to hike up to from the trail side isn't an option either. I don't care for heights much and the perps make sure that governs my visit time up there. Plus, the notion doesn't even come to mind. Firearms aren't readily available in this country, about the only remaining direct and quick way of dealing with this infernal scourge.

Then to add recent insult to injury, a TI from Boston pulls this bizarre stunt of calling me a perp on her blog for crissakes. (Cannot find the link now). Not only is that an absurd and fatuous
[adjective, 1. foolish or inane, especially in an unconscious, complacent manner; silly 2. unreal; illusory] lie, or perhaps a mistaken belief, such a slanderous assertion suggests that all these 1700+ blog postings are somehow fabricated. Do yer due diligence RO; contact Debbie Newhook ( and  get a character reference, as they seem to be a rather useful vindicating method based on your recent experience. I have met Debbie at least three times, and spoke with her on the phone at least that again, and on one of her activist radio interviews she described me as "abused". And if she is an insufficient character reference, have her provide the names of those at the TI meeting we had at her place in 2010. And report your results, as I would love to hear what they are. And if you are ever out this way (western Canada, province of British Columbia) on your book research tour, come by and chat, no malice intended or held.

There is nothing like TI's to crap on each other, except perhaps for alien researchers. Hmm, maybe there is a common linkage there.

Another day of hell on the bottling line, made worse by the fact that the perps won't let me use my own (fair, not great) motor skills. Dithering my finger control, to make things worse (what else) all fucking day long. Naturally the anal retentive staff were on my ass, nagging and belittling, even if their claimed performance improvements weren't what they could attain themselves even.

Weed spraying and weed eating kept me from bottling today, but no such reprieve, such as it was, for tomorrow (read on).

On the bottling line again, this time taking a place where I was relatively free from nagging. Though there were plenty of adversities, though not of conventional human origin. We were doing well in the morning, but some equipment issues stalled us for the afternoon, and making for a shorter day. As usual, there is plenty of people action to walk or stand upon the very ground I had just vacated.

I was feeding the bottling line by dumping the upside down boxes on the platform so they end up right side up, and I push them in sequence onto the conveyor line. But of course nothing goes right, especially for me, and lo, if the perps didn't arrange a box insert/bottle separator to drop out too, getting in the way of conveying bottles down the production line. (To be then be conveyed on the equipment to be washed, dried, filled, corked, capsuled and then to be packed into the boxes by a coworker.) There isn't a second to spare, and if the separator comes out I need to somehow make sure the bottles go down the line and yet somehow put it back into the box one-handed. This isn't supposed to happen very often but for me, why, six in a row, 40x in two hours is "normal". And with cardboard boxes at my chest and letting the bottles out, why, that is perp heaven all that cardboard box contact. Add in that some were white boxes, though most were green with ink rub off to boot.

The 14th Anniversary of the Abusive Hell On Earth Onset today. Surprisingly, the perps laid off some, though the wine bottling work started as a hassle, and eventually I was allowed to improve my technique, and lo, if it didn't work.

I was dumped into a whole new world of abusive tyranny 14 years ago today, and things were mighty intense for the first year. A week before my co-workers began staring at me for no discernible reason and I hadn't done anything spectacular or otherwise to deserve it. Ms. L, who I would see a couple of times a week and was fun to be with had departed for NYC that week. Then Ms. C came back into my orbit and was at first pleasant and then sometimes weird. Strange enough that I wasn't going to spend Sunday night at her place, but instead do my income tax return at my place. I was getting scrambled for some reason, and could not apply myself to getting it done, the first of many unusual behaviors that came to be imposed on me.

There was a climate of impending doom though I could not understand how this came on. There was someone else on my PC and I could not figure out how they were on it. At some point I went out to work out at 24Hr Fitness and when I came back my place had been searched  by someone who wanted me to know about it. Clothes in my closet had been moved and shifted, a blue ink stain was on my chair mat at my PC, and some things were missing. I hadn't done anything illegal and was wondering what on earth this was all about. Later, about three males on an apartment balcony were looking over at my apartment that had the venetian blinds down. There were some small divots in the venetian blind slats, a rather strange event as they weren't otherwise mangled or significantly bent. And of all things, someone had had applied a nylon tie every 2' on this vertical pair of lead wires I had dangling from the top of the wall as I had installed a transformer for a low voltage lighting system. These nylon ties kept the two wires in a neat tidy bundle instead of the loose and separated look they had. This was constructive sabotage, not something the average police department would do.

Anyhow, I got spooked enough that I thought they were after something on my PC and took the hard drive out and decided to get rid of it elsewhere, away from the building. So I figured with some big imminent takedown that I would spend the night at 24Hr Fitness and drove down there this time. At 0200-0500h one can get a good take on who is there and why, as there aren't many folks there at that time. Sure enough, a SUV arrives outside my parked vehicle street side, as viewed at through the glass while on the treadmill, and stays there for a minute or so, double parked. Some dudes were inside, and why they had to park outside of my vehicle when there was plenty of street parking at that time was most curious.

Then some dudes arrived in the gym and seemed to be doing a half assed job of working out, more like they were doing it out of duty. And no less, packing a big bulge on their hip under their gym sweats. Anyhow, a few more surfaced, and I decided to split. I went to my locker, to get my gear and was going to take some more ADD medication and the pill bottle was gone. I had made a purposeful effort to bring them with me, to keep me awake of course. I drove back, but parked my vehicle on the street instead of in my stall five floors down. I got back to my apartment and my pill bottle was sitting on the bathroom counter, which clearly meant they had stolen it from my locker and put it back there ahead of me getting back.

Anyhow, I was pondering what all this was about when I fell asleep on my floor and the next recollection I had was six dudes packing me on their shoulders and placing me in that very same spot. Then the show began, and little did I know I was front and center. The door shifted a half inch in its frame, slowly, but enough to see it in progress. The whole show was scrambled in temporal terms, and to this day it causes me to ponder how they did that, as I NEVER forget event order of anything. They zapped me, they invoked brown colored beams that caused me to collapse to the floor, batteries rolled into view by themselves (on a carpeted floor), a 2' diameter hole was being cut into the floor, a screwdriver somehow arrived and when in hand I pulled on the steel blade and it bent into a 90 degree angle. Steel was made to be malleable without heat or change in the look no less, (the plastic handle stayed intact). Dogs barked outside in the hallway with the sound of rattling chains so I barricaded the door, only to find my props slipped, so I threw my CDs in the entrance hallway to foil this particular threat. At one point they allowed me to see someone teleporting through the bathroom wall and stepping into the bathtub. (At the time I thought they had rigged a door in the tiles, but on later examination it was all intact). Other unconventional events were these flies, later to be ascribed to being masers, that would plague me, or else fly at each other and then cross paths in front of me, presumably to check on my ability to track objects. (It is extremely rare they let me see a teleportation in progress, as usually there is a few seconds of forced inattention or an obstructing object and poof, they are gone or arrived).

At some point they signaled the end of this in-apartment unconventional assault, and I expected to see someone to arrest me, but no one showed up. No one.  Later they invoked a "reason" for me to visit another apartment at the opposite end of the complex but no one was there. I cut through the courtyard and lo, there were about 10 to 15 people lined up in two ranks for a group picture. I cannot recall if I ducked around this or not, but when back in my apartment someone came to visit, and for some reason I was OK with that, even if I never met him before. He blew up a balloon and then took it to the bathroom and flushed the balloon into the throat of the toilet to block it. And for some reason I didn't call him on this one. A few months later this asshole was walking past my vehicle while it was on the ferry car deck and I was inside, just awakened.

The next day at work, a Tuesday, no one said squat even if I missed a whole day without notice. On my way there, my very first gangstalker was in the hallway,  sitting there in the entry way chairs with this loopy grin on his face. (No one ever used the chairs to sit in, and why at 0900h?) On the way to work I discovered my street parked car with parking tickets on it, so I had to take it back to my parkade stall. Clearly the perps wanted to eliminate the option to drive away while this apartment assault was in progress.

At work, I learned my boss had the day off (Monday), and my former boss was away sick that day. Too much of a coincidence, and this was only the beginning of managed coincidences that dog me to this day.

Later in the week the targeted head pains started up, delivered to my head anywhere I was except around metal. This began a whole series of night time driving to avoid the pain, as I could not do anything else when they turned this on.

I haven't read my story (NB 27pp) for a few years, but I sure it has more of the particulars that followed those few months, and into the next year.

Saturday, and one that I took off to deal with the backlog of errands. The recycling of glass cannot be done curbside here, so it gets done with other items of the same category.

The the walk-in clinic doctor had some more test results and more mysteries unfold; my PSA is up and my bilirubin too, and something else too so more blood tests for next week. Something else to complicate my life and serve the perp purpose of more blood draws. Which strikes me as odd, as they can extract it by teleportational means anytime they want, so it must be all about doing it the conventional way for comparative purposes to the rest of the non-harassed populace, aka, naive human subjects

Then a hair cut and leg wax, and all performed by three fat ladies; the hair stylist, and the student and instructor on the leg wax job. Back to the wax habit after a winter of shaving; who knows what perp imperative this serves

This is cleaned up enough to post I figure. if there are any anomalies let me know as I getting intense keyboarding dithering at this very moment.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Yoga Dude Cluster

And what the point of putting two dudes around me at yoga tonight? Usually they disperse them but for some reason they put them both behind me, one directly behind me even.

The Noises Source house from across the lane "greeted" 

And a new yogi babe, though seen before in the lobby of prior weeks, she got there ahead of me. I was the second person to arrive for class, and lo, if she somehow didn't manage to pick my usual mat location in the empty room. Tall, maybe 5'10", and slender, always a feature to get my attention. It was the first time she has been in this class, though I had seen her in the lobby for the following class for the past six weeks or so. Per usual, the perps had me fantasizing about her for the whole class. My usual refrain when my thoughts are my own is; "forget it, I am 61 and she is under 30". Added to that is; "with the hounds of hell on me 24x7, and invaded up the asshole (literally and figuratively) why  would anyone be interested in me?". Indeed.

But as this is at least the fourth tall and lithe and yoga-competent woman yogi to loiter in my presence in yoga class, I can only assume she must have some perp promoted rationale to be there. Besides offering female scenery, and impressive yoga skills, I have no idea why the perps do this, sometimes double shifting them, having two in the class, like today. Star Girl was at the other side of the room, another cut from the same cloth.

Fertilizer games today; picked up 15 25 kg bags for the vineyard at the suppliers, and it was unloaded by forklift into the winery off the employer's pickup I drove. A half cup somehow spilled out from a bag and I cleaned it up from the pickup bed with a broom. And lo, when I returned home, why, the landlord had a "need" to spread fertilizer prills all over the back lawn, and the paved door way to my place. And so, out with the broom to clean that mess up too. Coincidences upon coincidences.

Warehouse shuttling with pickup and with cases of wine in the crew cab...

Broke my tying tool by having it drop on the concrete floor and breaking the hook attached to the spiral twist shaft. Hence, twisting the wire by hand for the afternoon while tying down canes to the fruiting wire.

Vineyard, then rain, then rain jacket, then a call to go to the warehouse and more wine case retrieval, this time in my vehicle. Then a change in the order, so it needed to be unpacked in part, and off to the warehouse again. Another change in the pallet shipment there too, and it  had to be unpacked in part. More coincidences upon coincidences.

Last night some strange dream vignettes; one, a friend of long ago, looking 30 (as he was 30 years ago) in the dream was lounging at a bus stop. In present day TI-style I avoided him, (knowing that he was a quisling perp abettor) and moved nearby where he could not see me. And somehow he knew and came from behind me and draped his arm around me. Rather perturbing to have anyone do this, and just the same in dream.

The second vignette, unrelated to the first, was ML sitting at a coffee shop, facing the door. She looked much the way she did in the mid 1990's, her days of unfortunate infamy, even slimmed down some. I came in and was about to duck out of the way (again, in present day TI-avoidance style) and she saw me and waved me over to join her at her table. Like WTF; I never met her, save seen her twice on the gangstalk circuit. It is most strange that these dreams would occur in the same sleep, and that both were "backdated", that is, the characters' ages were regressed, but present day TI engagement-avoidance mindset was in place.

Vine tying, still doing manual twisting of the wire tie as my tool is broke, and parts cannot be had. I tried to get a replacement tool at one place and they said they had 40 of them back-ordered. I went to a rural supplier of winery and farm gear N of the vineyard work site, and he had no parts either as it turned out, so I bought a new one. Now $80 down after the perps' tool breaking stunt of Monday.

And so, I had to modify the new tool in keeping with the one that is broke. That is, grind the lower jaw so that the tip is pointed and can reach into the smallest of crevices. I find it most curious that I have done this for four other pruning tools from differing manufacturers. Like, don't they ever use them and find that the bypass jaw needs to get into tight places? No wonder the perps had me purchase a grinder, something I don't ordinarily have a need for. It wouldn't be the first time I have purchased tools for no seeming need, only to find it useful two or more years later.

Both male co-workers have bi-level haircuts now; that skeechy faux mohawk cut with 1/4" on the sides and longer on top. One had his done three days ago on the weekend and the other yesterday. Another fine coincidence, two same dumbshit hair cuts within two days of each other.

A gross out staff large woman staff member on loiter duty at SOF supermarket last night. Same deal two nights ago; folds of fat spilling onto other folds it seemed. The perps have it in for me to see fat people of late.

Doing road traffic control today; that is, the glass bottle delivery semi-trailer blocks half the road while it is unloaded with fork lifts. Myself and my co-worker stand on the road at each end and direct and coordinate single lane alternating traffic for an hour or so, twice. We have radio contact, and line of sight as well, so not the adversity of a big road works job. And dressing a day-glo vest never hurt the perp cause, nor a orange plastic hard hat.

That was the OK part. but while getting myself together this morning, breakfast and all, the perps hit me with visiting the toilet four times for some very loose bowel movements. Not only a total gross out, but the specter of this "happening" me during the day in much less contained circumstances haunted my entire day. They did strike again in the afternoon, but I had adequate notice to get to the nearby washroom. Then again when I got back. So.... after dealing with the pissing problem on and off for over a year, and getting some 80% relief despite the useless urologist, the perps now hit me with bowel problems. They in fact did predict that, and telepathically claim they are rebuilding all my development and learning, from pissing, shitting, crawling, walking, speech etc. All in this densified magnetic field they keep me in, last measured at 1800Gauss in about 2009 or so. That is a huge whack of energy, as the base magnetic field of the Earth is 0.5Gauss. Thanks a bunch; I didn't ask for it, want it, and don't care, just leave me the fuck alone. No such chance.

An HD noise evening tonight from the back alley neighbor; at least two of them to join the dudes and their nattering and their big big ups they need to rev up ever so often. But the HD noise has been the most prevalant, about every 10 minutes I get treated to this infernal racket.

Why cannot I get streaming radio on the internet? I have been trying for years and I still cannot get it off the CBC.

04-08-2016, Friday
After doing this and that chores this week, as well as tying down vines, I get the word to "work faster". Like WTF; I had just spent 2.5 hours in the morning on other tasks in the morning, and the imminent bud break of the vines was wholly predictable from a week ago. Plus the other helper was sent home on Monday for no work.

The perps didn't help any by losing my new tying tool, so I was slower with tool swapping with the twine and regular secateurs. I "found" the new tying tool when my tool belt had been placed yesterday. All this infuriated me, along with them interfering with my fingers and making me slower. One of the office staff "happened" to be passing through the vineyard and called out to me to show me a hawk or eagle in the sky, and I agreed it was a beautiful bird. After that, the harassment hostilities abated some 60%.

The small time winery part time employer had me cleaning "totes" (IBC) of flaxseed oil, the former contents, with a hot water pressure washer. It would be the first time ever that the pressure washer didn't fail or break down. But as the flaxseed oil remnants, a liter or two, were sitting around for who knows how long, the oil had a rancid fishy smell. Then he had me use dishwasher soap and it added a scent too. And he plans to put wine into these tanks. I must stop working for this guy, as his parsimonious streak is going too far to make a quality wine.

Per text from the M-F boss, I was bummed out over the productivity comparison for tie -downs in the vineyard. It seems that she tied down the remaining rows 3x faster than I did, though I haven't yet seen the results. The perps like to be sure I stay bummed out.

Sunday, and a day of rest, though I was expecting to work, but yesterday's employer only came through on one day. Soo... a day like last week; domestic clean up, vacuuming, putting some things away and attending to getting winter clothes put away and bringing out the summer items. Some shopping, and even some tanning outside on the lawn. The gangstalk scene was full measure for hounding me when shopping, and they even put on an ambulance to cruise by.

My pruner blade sharpening activities (running a diamond burr on a dremel tool) were greeted with HD motorcycle noise, from the Noises Source house across the lane; not only a center for dude yapping (per above), pick-up parking rotation, and now a 22' boat arrival, but HD noise, and parked dump trucks in the past, as well as MB sedans that sit for months unused. The noise sequence continued with hot rod muffler noise, electric hand tool noise and overhead aircraft.

And infuriating harassment over sharpening the pruner blades again. I put on a nice 3mm wide bevel on the blades with the dremel burr and then planned to hone them with a diamond whetstone. It was a consistent bevel, and I put them down to get the supplies ready for the hand honing stage. When I picked up one of the blades ready to hone it with the whetstone, why, the bevel was partially attenuated; that is, it was 3mm at the hilt but 2mm at the tip, with a smooth transition. Like WTF; it wasn't that way when I put it down, and yet a few minutes later it is modified. All this after the dremel tool and the portable vice were put away of course. But as this at least the 12th time this has "happened", and that the perps have an insane obsession over sharpening tool steel and other metal fabrication/modification, I can only assume they are up to their fuckery again.

Anyhow, enough to call this done, and onto another week of whatever the Adversity Plan is.

Monday, April 04, 2016

Cold Fingered Day

And why is it for those days where gloves "become" a hassle, and that I must work in bare hands, do the perps crank on the cold weather? It was warm two days ago, but when attempting this vineyard task call "tie-downs" they pull cold days. This is a fine motor control activity, where one lays down the remaining (from pruning) canes on a horizontal trellis wire, spiralling it around so the cane is supported, and then tying down the end of the cane so it stays put. With this vertical (most often) to horizontal orientation, the buds on the cane face up and then form shoots in May to which bear fruit later in the year. The shoots are retained by catch wires higher up on the trellis and this keeps the shoots vertical for the season.

The problem of tie-downs gets exacerbated by the event, as in perp imposed, of my gloves getting pinched in the tying wire, between the canes and the trellis wire and any other imaginable pinch point. Until all this abuse began in 04-1002, I never had any problem with pinched gloves, and now it is incessant. To the point of being a grievous hassle, and so I take them off. Ergo, the cold weather comes on. Add on running my hand into sharp wire ends and the like, and I have at least 12 small cuts on my hand from one day's work.

Then the boss lady comes and ponders why I am taking so long to do the job, and we have perfect perp hassle "storm". Getting the victim with multiple abuses at once is straight out of the perp text book, Victim Abuse 101.

Big helicopters today; a big throbby Bell twin engine, some six passes over the day. They come from the N, sit at the airport for an hour or so, and then return from the opposite direction. This time it was the same helicopter make/model, but different ones going by the ownership livery. The same make/model was buzzing me two days ago when at  another vineyard, but today's visiting helicopters were of different livery.

What is with my new found interest in French language singers, aka chanson? Now numbering five artists this week, and averaging at least two albums downloaded per artist. The kind of music I like most is where I can listen to the lyrics and gain some interesting insights. Of course I am totally clueless as to what they singing about in chanson.

All day tie-downs on the vineyard, this time a cold morning followed by sunshine. The wind was up and kept me cool, so I got a tanned face and hands out of the deal. The construction babe at the adjacent building site, regularly featuring herself each time I finished a row, is not on the job any more. I was allowed to overhear that she quit and has moved on. A few more throbby Bell helicopters today, perhaps two.

The adjacent building site has the roof  going on, a torch-on one. A half dozen dudes are there with propane torches heating the tar and I suppose the roar of the torches and the flame just might be part of the perp's combustion-scape. The roofers were there yesterday too, which might of brought on the overhead combustion-scape, aka, the throbby helicopters. Who knows, though the perps love a good fire at times. And they do like petroleum products, e.g. tar, and perhaps rolls of tar all the more.

Of interest is a house now being built a half mile away, a copy-cat scenario it would seem. They had  concrete pour today, as the redi-mix trucks were passing on the road below. And we know who has a fixation over redi-mix trucks and concrete of all kinds.

Tying down canes onto the trellis wire all day, though the weather was not only sunny, but warmer. As mentioned above, the construction babe at the adjacent house construction wasn't there. The roofers were, and lo, if on the third day of roofing they didn't put on a woman roofer with the half dozen rabelous dude roofers. No babe she; twice as big and twice as old, though she did know roofing and seemed to be in charge of the dudes. One has to laugh; women in construction are rare enough, and here they go from the babe, now departed for another job, and  "substitute"  an older woman, at least for a day.

Same deal on the helicopters; the big throbby Bell came for a "visit", (fly past), and then returned  N bound a half hour later. No helicopter variety for three days now is quite unusual.

I was totally clued out about today being the last of the month and bills were due until 1830h. I got them done online, and though there was some of the now typical constant web page display obstruction, it wasn't too onerous.

Today, at my place, two pieces of stereo equipment arrived; a new amplifier and a used tuner, both made by Cyrus, from differing vendors. (Both vendors in Vancouver, BC interestingly). Not that I have a audiophile obsession, they were both purchased online without any audition. I was all set to get a $300 receiver and been done with it, but all these niggling quality obsession notions came on and so it goes. Both came in brown cardboard boxes, and are still sitting around before I get on  with connecting them to see how they play. Seeing that my YBA amplifier was sabotaged, shipped to Chicago and when back, still wasn't fully repaired, I was so pissed at this jerkaround that I decided to end my association with audio equipment that is serviced by boneheads who don't listen to the results of what they thought they fixed, but didn't. Now I am $600 deep into replacing $10 worth of parts in it, and am to ship it back for crissakes, though covered under warranty.

The perps diverted my normal dinner time to have me eat two 100g chocolate bars while seated next to the brown cardboard boxes from the Cyrus gear. I haven't had this "happen" for years, let alone two of them. It seems they wanted me to get "browned" up before I spend hours connecting and listening to them. And just maybe I will get to listen to the new speakers that have been sitting around unused for four months due to above sabotage and follow-on fuckery.

A weed spray on the vineyard today, wearing a back pack sprayer for two hours. And lo, when I was done and packing up, why, the local telephone service supplier trades van was parked in front of where I was parked and a boom truck was blocking the driveway. The repair guy was friendly enough, even if a young skin head. So while packing up, having lunch etc. I had these guys and their vehicle loitering around and and holding me up. Hardly a coincidence given the huge number of times that Telus vehicles are in the vehicular gangstalking trains/pods.

 Saturday, working in the vineyard of a large winery that accepts casual labor, the "drop-in" kind. Or at least until today, as I was told I was cut from the payroll as they wanted regulars only. But if I contacted the supervisor I could be put on the payroll for today's work and would then work out if I could stay casual. If not, I would have to give up this gig and work there in the fall when the Mon.-Fri. job ends.

But of course the gangstalk scene was ready for me in all its capacity. Not so much the 20 other farm workers, mostly Punjabis, but the overhead aircraft noise and flights. We were two miles or less from the Oliver airport and on this sunny and warm April day, why, someone needed to go all day on sail planing (gliding). That is, a noisy propeller aircraft towed the un-powered sailplane up and at a certain altitude unhitched it and each made their way back to the airport. A 15 min. cycle time on average made for over 20 flights on the day, though in fact, that was two aircraft per flight; the noisy propeller aircraft made extra returning passes overhead, and the sailplane did its (delayed) gliding in the same airspace, this bowl are where we were working, E of the airport. The odd extra private aircraft was added in, and a helicopter did some extended flights on a nearby bench region. It must of landed out of sight for four hours or so and then resumed its low level flights later. Strange helicopter behavior for a vineyard region, but of course what do I  know anyhow?

As this was a twinned fruiting wire vineyard, it was best that the workers worked in pairs. As it "happened", I was late, and lo, if I wasn't the odd man out. The foreman joined me from time to time  so I could keep up, and as he was talking to his adjacent Punjabi colleagues, I was treated to extra loud Punjabi some 3' from me. And for the first time this year, the Punjabi women joined the crew and added their colorful if not perverse clothing into the mix. Wearing a headscarf also wrapped around their face, with only their eyes uncovered struck me as most strange on a warm (20C) day in early April. But as always, how much is concocted and how much is genuine ethnic wear I have no idea anymore.

And what was with the forced finger fumbling when needing all my fine motor control to perform this detailed task of vine tie downs. And if that wasn't infuriating enough, the assholes stripped the tie-down tool from from my hand at least a dozen times on the day.

After work, and after dinner, it was my regular laundry evening. Always a big deal, doing laundry, and so they brought out the dudes at the backyard across the alley. Four large pick up trucks illegally blocked the alley, and if that wasn't enough noise, why, they added two HD motorcycles. Not only did I have the dude banter with the country music, but someone was also operating a power drill. Some party that.

 And at least 30 screamings/infuriations at the assholes tonight. What has got to into them? Could it be that I am now running a stereo with speakers for the first time since 2005? I bought a new amplifier after getting so fed up with the sabotage on the last one, followed by a round of sabotaging the repairs for crissakes. New amp, new speakers (after four months of sitting around) and a new FM tuner they had me get. A $30 radio would of done, but no, a 12x expenditure on a high end tuner instead. The perps like me follow, and eventually acquire, high end audio gear, but I could do without the expense. And screwing me out of having the amp that worked fine is just another piss off. it got sent off to the repair depot in Chicago for a second round of repairs that could of been done in one pass had the repair techs bothered to listen to what they purportedly fixed.

Another perp attraction/escalated abuse instigation might be that I changed my bedding; the blue camping mattress is out (uncleanable for some unfathomable reason), and I sleep directly on the black camping cot fabric.

A mellow Sunday; no big plans, just the ones I got saddled with. For some reason, in last night's weekly laundering, the contents of the two mesh bags, one for socks (often wool) and the underwear somehow got mixed. Since I began this system of separating the two so that sock fibers don't pollute my underwear (for which they have a particular affinity), they NEVER, EVER got mixed. And through some remote neural dithering methods, they screwed me last night. Ergo, more laundering today to separate the wool fibers from the underwear, also "happening" to be at a different laundromat with a different jug of the same detergent. Also, I "somehow" I left my jug at the laundromat last night, and so I used a new one today. All exciting stuff for the perps who constantly sabotage my laundry, and have an abetting interest in all possible parameters; machine, detergent, fabrics, water source (and filtering), dryer (or hang dry) etc. In the past they have stolen laundry, or even once had the thief parading around in my clothes.

Other excitement this morning was getting my car insurance renewed, aka "tags" in WA-speak, or perhaps that is a broader US term. A seeming trifling exercise, but two years ago, the assholes had me "forget" a few days past the date, and they also pulled that same stunt some years ago when I lived in WA.

Other BS was that they shook the house this morning at about 0730h when I was still in bed. That takes some doing as this place is wholly detached from any other building/floor/residence. No reported  earthquake/tremor today.

Anyhow, I am a day late in getting this posted, and so it goes  out like this.